How To Crawl Out from Under A Rock

Posted on April 9, 2012 by melissafed

I’ve been living under a rock. Feeling the weight of the whole world and feeling tired and misshapen. I’ve been feeling my sins heavy, my flesh weak, my body hunched with the weight of my own failures. I’ve not been feeling like myself.

Or more precisely, I’ve been feeling too much like myself.

BUT. When that stone rolls? It rolls off of us too and we stand straighter. We are children of the resurrection. I grab His hand, jab my finger in the scar, wanting to be sure. I have a tendency to crawl back under the rock, to turn from the mirror and forget what triumph looks like. To fall back into old habits…they die ugly death too. To hunch to the weight of sin, is to not believe his scars. I want a back-bone straitened by the power of One. I’ve seen him do it. He can.

This story isn’t quite over I know. Sometimes this old world will chase you back under that stone. Sometimes you (or others) will try to chain you back down. The trumpets are blaring victory, but the enemy has not quite waved a flag.

But. Days ago we were sharing in the death, broken with the weight of the world. Today we share in His rising. Today, when voices whisper failure, or sinner, we choose to hear a louder voice that says “Crawl out from under that rock child, you don’t live there anymore. I don’t live there anymore. Follow me. WE are heading in the opposite direction from that dark place and heading into the clear light of day. Leaving that shroud of death in the dust. I will just keep asking you over and over, DO YOU LOVE ME? ”

We people of the resurrection? We keep shouting YES. And the rocks crumble in our path.

Standing in the power of resurrection and giving thanks for:

692) Overhearing my incredible niece explaining the role that the asthenosphere plays in earthquakes. So thankful for the community around my kids. THANK YOU CASE-OF….I mean KAY-ZA BEAR!

693) For a wedding that reminds me of Ecc 9:7-…a biblical mandate I find easy to live.

694) The adorable voices waking in a hotel room and whispering…”There is a chocolate on my bed! He found us here!’

695) Road trips.

696) Coming home early.

697) Puzzle day

698) Snow almost melted

699) Seeing ALL of my nieces and nephews the last five days!

Because its true…you can’t do it all

Posted on April 4, 2012 by melissafed

In the morning now, when the house is quiet, and the lists are made I feel like I could do it…all of it.

By three pm today I will know that I cannot and I will sit exhausted and think about all the things I missed, forgot, could have done better. THESE DAYS ARE THE LONG ONES. The ones we are sure that God mixed up our life with someone else. That this hand that we’ve been dealt would be better played by another. I am weak today and broken and greater purposes (like motherhood) cannot possibly include me.

But. Jesus your strength is made perfect in my weakness and so I take it. Today? I take the children with tempers that flare, the events I don’t plan in time, the meetings I forget, the bills left unpaid, the uncertainties and the way I can’t keep it together.

I take the sudden stops, false starts, wasted passion. I admit that domesticity is a full-time job, and I cannot keep up with the Jones if I am going to work too. I cannot be the fun socialite, the team leader, the ministry guru, the mother I want to be…not all at once.

This Passion week…YOU are reminding…again…for the 1000 time. I want the whole of YOU and so much less of me. I breathe deep of that truth today and extend compassion over the expectations I have of myself.

How you doing this week mamma? Be gentle with yourself will you?

Need some encouragement?

Read this:

Amber on Shame and Motherhood…If I could write exactly what I am feeling today? This is what I would write. The woman is seriously gifted.

Emily on Dwelling in each moment Oh yes…Reminder about the priorities I really want to set

Linking with:

Linking with: The Wellspring

Painting Prose

and

Dear Church: A love letter to the body and the bride (I couldn’t make one metaphor stick)

Posted on March 27, 2012 by melissafed

Beloved Bride,

I watched you tonight. I sat in the car with sleeping littles while you passed Hope Centre windows en route to family dinner.

There goes that girl I met after she attended camp for the first time. I remember hugging her the week after her mother died. I remember watching her grow into this beautiful servant hearted woman, amazing leader.

There goes one of our seniors. Her grandchildren brought her back for bigger and better once. She put a clown costume on and fearlessly came onto stage, winning the team prize for best trade.

When the kids wake up and I walk in and I am greeted by the children from two of my favorite families. I feel the warmth of community deep and strong.

Later I will stand in the back of sanctuary and listen to you sing. I feel so in love with you that I cannot breath. There are young men and women who I have watched grow from angry or troubled teens. I see the anorexics healed. The anxious soothed. The prideful humbled. There on stage the kids I watched grow into these marvelous, wise and gifted parts of our body. There are people who love on my kids. People who serve with my husband. People that bring us food when babies are born. The ones that pray for us. It is too much for my clumsy mind…this lame blog.

But. Its been a ride these last years hasn’t it? Sometimes I’ve felt we’ve been more like a battered woman than a spotless bride. The layoffs, departures, conflict, drama. We’ve lost some dear ones and we still feel those phantom limbs just below the knee cap. Sometimes it aches. There have been transplants too and we are waiting to see if we can weight bare on them or not. There has been healing but we still limp. We’ve donated our kidneys to other churches, sliced off a piece of our liver to grow somewhere else.

My brother-in-law calls his wife ‘the bride’; always. It was when I knew I was going to like him. He calls her that no matter what. 20 years later, after everything he knows of her, he chooses to think of her as spotless bride.

Can we do the same? Can we look through the lens of what Jesus is doing in all of us, how He sees us? Can we trust that there is a method in this sometimes madness? Can we believe really deeply that devotion and dedication are hard; perhaps the hardest things. We are a terribly broken bunch, I have to tell you it is the whole point of the cross; of this church. Can we REALLY believe that it is what we do with our sins and missteps that shows how deep Grace has drilled? Do we believe that he is ABLE to be glorified in this? In spite of this? In spite all the ways we, the church, do the wrong things with right intentions or the right things with the wrong intentions. All the times we act without prayer or speak without grace. All the violations I’ve imposed on others by my self-righteousness and lack of love. All the times we’ve glossed over wounds in others rather than face them. All the times we’ve not pursued His peace with fervency. I know it goes so much deeper than all that…

We get things wrong. We are trying to get it right. It is the process of working out our faith and learning to walk in humility. No, we’ll likely never get it all right…but in the baby steps to righteousness may we make reverence, humility, love, grace and peace our footholds.

Still, I ask for your forgiveness in advance.

Even my baby steps have a tendency to step on toes.

But still. This love for you rages.

Melissa

Linking with: The Wellspring
and:

Five Minute Prompt: Loud

Posted on March 24, 2012 by melissafed

I’ve been quiet.

There is just so much noise sometimes. I don’t want to be a part of it. Sometimes, I feel the weight of so many voices and they drown the still, quiet One. The one that rarely roars like an earthquake, rushes like wind, rages like fire. Mostly He whispers and if we don’t take time to be still and quiet we might miss it. I’m so afraid of being someone elses thunder, the loud shouting, sometimes I get afraid to speak.

I want His voice loud in my ears and for me that only happens when the words are flowing. With scripture cracked wide and pen starts swirling in my rock cleft on my window ledge. Or when we walk in spring quiet, with the birds just starting to sing, and I sense peace reaching deep and words starting to form just under the surface, in the centre of my chest. And I can’t keep quiet, the rocks shout at me and together we praise.

I share it here, because my tongue is clumsy and my words stop cold in my mouth. But. I still think we are all called to raise our voice in whatever way that he releases in hopes of moving others to praise.

But if there is too much shouting? Too many voices? If the whisper is quieted…Shut it down. Find your rocky cliff, wherever it is that you can hear clearly and stay there until He passes by.

Small

Posted on March 5, 2012 by melissafed

I have been feeling marvelously small lately. Quiet. Humble. Hushed.

I’ve been thinking on intent and purpose and why I do certain things. Like write a blog for example.

I’ve been thinking how there are no great things on earth.
No Great Men or Women.

Pursuing greatness? Cripples you, sabotages you.

All God wants from you today? Submission. Pursuit of Him alone. Great love in the next tiny thing.

You have not been called to change the whole world. Only to change the tiny space that you can wrap your arms around in this moment you are living.

And if by some miracle God uses you to reach further?
Get on your face and praise Him for it.

Standing on a soap box looking down? Look out. People will do everything they can to knock you clear of it. It is a very dangerous place.

Forgive me as I step away from it. Hiding in my cabin in the woods, you’ll hear more from me after Easter.

Who makes you better?

Posted on February 2, 2012 by melissafed

My relationship with Mary began about 10 years ago. It was about 10:30 at night and we were the last two people left pricing items for a youth garage sale. Amongst all the boxes and dirty objects we were surrounded by, somehow I knew that I was on consecrated ground. The presence of the Lord felt so heavy that I felt like maybe I should take off my shoes. We told stories that night and we found we had much in common. The way we came to know the Lord, the way that we stumbled into the strange life of being the wife of a pastor (both of us sort of surprised by the idea). That night began one of the most influential relationships in my life. While my time actually spent with Mary wasn’t that extensive, every moment I did taught me something about Jesus chasing and I always felt a very deep kinship and affection for her. And these last few days I have seen clearly that my feelings for her, our relationship, was not unique.

Everyone that Mary encountered felt the same.

I’ve been asked to speak about Marys ministry to the youth of Willow Park Church and that could be a long conversation. I asked around to our team and there were certain themes that every person mentioned.

PRAYER

The first of those was prayer. We trusted Mary to stand in the gap for us. She understood that staking a claim and doing battle for the spiritual lives of kids is not to be taken lightly or unprotected. Mary formed armies around our youth group. We felt she helped us stand when our legs were weak.

Some of the most precious memories of Mary revolve around her prayer ministry. The way she always arrived the day before our conferences started and walked the perimeter and the building praying for the youth that would be attending. The way she was present for every session we held, the names of each registrant in her hand, prayed over. I remember walking the camp property with her, meeting all the people she brought along for the same purpose. She didn’t do this just occasionally. She did this every year.

Rachel Lindsay, our girls ministry director, mentioned how every time she saw Mary, she introduced her to someone else who was praying specifically for her needs. Sue Enns mentioned how even recently (three years after she left our staff) when she saw her she was still praying for her, wondering about her life, keeping track of where she was and what she needed. Each of us felt like we were known intimately, cared for immensely.

DEDICATION

The second thing that all of us noticed about Marys ministry was the way she managed to know not only all the details of our lives, but also all the dates of every event we held. I am the wife of the youth pastor and most of the time I cannot keep up with all the events but somehow Mary knew, exactly when we were departing for missions trips and would always arrive about an hour before we left. Sometimes she brought a verse for each student missionary. Sometimes she brought anointing oil that she sprinkled on the bus. She ensured she had the staff list for our camp, the names of every camper that was registered. She prayed for each of us all summer. Several times we would send messages about challenges we were facing and she would rally the troops, pray intensely for us. Her dedication to the ministry left us overwhelmed at times.

LOVE

Everyone who speaks about Mary, mentions the way she made you feel so very cared for. The way she made you feel like you were the only person in the room, that you might somehow be her very favorite person on earth. Mary who walked grace, talked Jesus chasing, touched gentle. She spoke with lips dripping blessing and each word built on the other and it built you up and you felt stronger in her presence.

The air shifted when she walked into the room and we all swayed closer to her. This was true of Mary in every context I saw her in. Teenagers, women, men, all of us; we were like plants drawn to the light, her radiant Jesus reflecting face.

LEGACY

I think one of the greatest things I learned from Mary is how Jesus can change your legacy. She told me once that she didn’t always pray like she did these last few years. That one January she asked God what he wanted for her and he said I want you to be a woman of prayer. That really stuck in my mind. It made me realize that at any point in our lives, Jesus can completely alter our legacies. That what we are known for now does not need to dictate what we will always be known for. That as we push into him, we see Him we can become new creations. This church, all of us, every time we described her, we claimed her as our own, our prayer warrior.

My ears always perked when she talked of how she hears and how she walks and how she listens and how she lives this life. This is how one walks redemption and lives love and I wanted to learn every lesson she could teach.

Satisfied? (and just in case you only read the title? GIVING CIRCLE is starting again!)

Posted on January 27, 2012 by melissafed

It is all ache and yearning. It is the thing that will let brain settle on nothing else. It is craving and emptiness and desire. It borders on obsession. You can think of little else.

Its like longing and lust and its nearly impossible to ignore.

Hunger. Thirst.

And those red letters in my bible tell me if I hunger and thirst it is good, that I will be satisfied. And that is backwards in the flesh, but His kingdom is often upside down, bowing lower to raise higher.

As I hunger I will be satisfied… Not with the things that flesh tries to fill itself with, but instead with the things that satisfy soul; peace, purity, mercy.

And thirst doesn’t go away, not really. It goes under ground sometimes but it always comes back.
And I want that kind of ache for righteousness. The kind that on some level I can’t quench, that always tells me there is room for more, because in this world? There will always be need for more…

Blessed are those who HUNGER AND THIRST for they are satisfied.

I want to hunger. I want to be famished for the right things.

A FEW NOTES?
GIVING CIRCLE is starting up again. Feeling so excited! Kelowna ladies will you join us? February 28,7pm. Location TBA. Interested in joining us ‘virtually’? Send me your email and I will send you the links to the issue we are studying that month!

Memorizing the Sermon on the Mount in 2012. Once a week I will wax poetic on something I am learning about it. This post is partially inspired by a great sermon by John Piper here.

Things I Never I Thought I Would Do: Worshiping With Maasai Warriors

Posted on January 11, 2012 by melissafed

I expected it to break under the weight. I was fully prepared for my back to sway and distort with the whole mass of Africa firmly planted on that point between my shoulder blades where burdens tend to congregate.

Miriam- Community Health Worker

It didn’t happen though. How could I justify a break when the people here speak of their hope? The woman who leads this support group for HIV positive people opens the meeting by saying, “Thank you friends for being so brave to come and share today with our friends from Canada. They have come to hear us so that they can tell more people your stories. These are some of the people who helped to pay for our program”. And all the Maasai turn to us and nod like we are the heroes and I gasp at the thought for I have never been more inspired by someones heroism.

Here under the acacia tree Miriam begins her story. How she was left alone in her bed, dying from the infection and from the misery of being abandoned by her community when World Vision came to her. They assisted her with accessing anti-retroviral medications. They trained her to be a community health worker and to reach out to other HIV positive people in her community. She says “And now each day, because God gives me one more to live, I know that I have a purpose, that we will help more and more people in our community”. This community with twice the infection rate of the rest of Kenya; more than 13 %.

Here we sing songs of praise in the tongue of the Maasai to a God who would give them opportunity to live another day because HE HAD A PURPOSE FOR THEM. I tried to clap as we sang but the tears rolling down my face made it hard to keep a rhythm. The smile on my face impossible to hide. And they cried THANK YOU FOR TAKING CARE OF US GOD. JESUS WE NEED YOU.

The stories are of new families formed in this support group. Of orphans given homes, of new friends sharing all they have. The stories are rich in bravery and grace. I am covered in flies; we all are and still I can’t think of looking away, of leaving. This tree? It’s on fire with the presence of a God who finds the sick and the broken and weaves us all back together into something that matters, something beautiful.

And beneath that tree when the stories are all told, when the prayers are said, when the songs cease, we eat together. I sit with my new friend who I can communicate with only through touch and through spirit. She holds tight to my hand after we eat and soon her son comes up and he translates for us.
“The people in this community will not eat our food. They think it is cursed. She wants you to know she would have had me kill one of the goats for you if she thought you would eat with her. She is very honoured and blessed that you shared this meal with us”

Those goats are life and livelihood to these people. I sip deeply on my tin cup, enjoy my tea mixed with goat’s milk and ginger and I know that this has given life to my dry bones too.

Do you want to be a part of this story too? Join us!

Learn about the communities we are visiting here. We will visit Garba Tulla (a new project just a year into development) as well as Masharu (a village that is 12 years into its World Vision development cycle).

You can follow our Flickr photo stream here.

Or sponsor a child from Garba Tulla here!

We will do our best to update this blog frequently as well! See all World Vision related posts here.

What if the whole world changed?

Posted on January 7, 2012 by melissafed

Garba Tulla main street

Its hot today when we pull into the Garba Tulla region. The security was tight here on this road that leads to Somalia, here where guns were being smuggled. Here where the rain didn’t fall for three years. Here where life has been hard. The people here are pastoralists, they herd their flocks over 40 km sometimes to find water and over these years of no rain more than half the cattle has died.

Imagine you are a muslim, a single mother in the midst of this.

When the water stops flowing.

When the rain stops falling.

What would you do with three starving daughters?

Planks

Posted on January 3, 2012 by melissafed

It was in the airport that it really got to me.

The people next to me in their matching mission trip t-shirts. Those that would come to this land cloaked with a pity that serves to only disenfranchise people further. Those that would come with simple solutions for the worlds most complex problems, those exactly like me.

Suddenly and without warning my whole body cringed. I wondered,

“What do you think you are doing here?”

Mercifully the paleness of my skin illuminated the plank in my eye.

So Kenya? I just wanted to tell you something. I know there is nothing about you that needs rescuing by a doofus like me. I am here hoping that the brokenness in you and the brokenness in me can come together to do something that looks like kingdom work. That Jesus can weave us into something beautiful. I’m dreaming that my time with you might just loosen the white knuckle grip that I hold to the material. Perhaps in that I will someday be able to climb through that needle hole.

I’m imagining my conversation with Emily someday when she is 14 and full of teenage self-righteousness, questioning my integrity in the face of famines past I will be able to say I stood beside you.

But today? I am just here to listen to what you have to teach me.

And just a note? We started reading “When Helping Hurts” by Corbett and Fikkert. It is an extraordinary read. Not just for the traveling in the majority world but for EVERYONE. SO good.