Staying in the Forest

He's 18.

He's been in prison.

Several times.

He's clean now. And straight. He makes money like you and I do. Honest money. He says it feels good to make money and not have to fear if the police will find him. He gives most of his money to his mom.

I drove him home from work. We had to travel the toll roads. Somehow he avoids these the days I don't take him. He had never heard of or seen a toll tag. He didn't know how it worked. He doesn't have a license.

He works for minimum wage in a low end restaurant chain. Promotion opportunities are limited. He's an artist at heart. One of those natural artists. He has God given artistic ability but limited opportunities for expression.

He asked how to hear God.

So, I demonstrated.

I asked God for an image for him.

God answered.

I told him I saw him in a forest. Big beautiful towering trees were all around him. He was inspecting the trees. He was enjoying the texture of the bark. He was happy. At peace. He didn't mind inspecting bark.

As I shared this image that God gave, I heard him gasp with understanding. I turned to look at him.

He said, "I get it. I'm stuck in the forest and not looking for a way through the forest to get out."

He heard God in that moment.

His forest is large. There are trees called poverty, victim, ex-inmate, gang member and others that block his view.

But with God there is a way through.

One of the Scriptures we looked at was that he "Can do all things through Christ who strengthens him." Philippians 4:13. 

Wanting to hear God is an awesome beginning to find the way through.

I'm praying he has ears to hear.

That's his art above.

I Am No Longer Safe

Since I started working with juvenile inmates I find that I am no longer safe. I've passed my phone number out. I've opened my home. I've driven former inmate’s places. I am surrounded by drug addicts, thieves, convicted felons, habitual liars, cheaters, manipulators, violent offenders, victims and perpetrators.

I am no longer safe.

I am fearful for my life.

Not my physical life.

I am fearful of losing my existence.

My existence has consisted of raising children in the suburbs. Sending them to private Christian education from preschool through high school and one is in a Christian college. My husband and I have spent years creating a safe environment. We are protectors. There's nothing wrong with that.

My safe life is colliding violently with a world I have been shielded from and have shielded my family from. As they rub up against each other friction creates tension.

What's the friction?

Learning that injured people are dealt with differently depending on their address. In my white suburbs if you are jumped by a pack of people you call the police and seek immediate medical attention. Which actually happened to my husband years ago in a different state. However, down the street, a beaten man calls his cousin to pick him up and goes on with life. His medical attention consists of a few shots of alcohol to take the pain away. There's no money. There are no questions. This is the way through.

I find that drug addicts are well...addicted. They give up children for the thing that gives them temporary relief. They call people and ask for money. They steal to get what they don't have. Yet, God loves them as deeply as He loves me.

There is a whole segment of society that are victims of the society.

And perpetrators of it as well.

I used to pass by the homeless man on the street corner when I drove through the city. Now I work with young men who have no where to go upon their release.

So why am I no longer safe?

My white suburban protected existence works only in a white suburban protected existence.

My ways are not their ways.

To reach them, I must operate in a new skin. Which means I choose to lay aside my judgments of how things are done "right" and pick up what looks completely barbaric and call that "good."

As I write, I see Jesus doing the same with us. For the first time I have a sliver of understanding about how His way is not our way! I see dimly how Jesus laid aside his rights to pick up mans barbaric ways.

I find that the safe existence I deliberately created day by day is no longer protected. In fact it is getting toppled over one brick at a time. I don't know what will be left once the fortress is completely demolished.

During the demolition I feel utterly raw and exposed. But THAT'S it! THAT'S the spot for "them" as well. As my world collides with the inmate’s world they too feel raw and exposed. They wrestle with the Truth that God loves them. He forgives them. He welcomes them. And wants to help them rebuild a new life based on a new foundation.

See there's no difference between me and the inmate. We both have the opportunity to lose our life.

Will we?

Will you?

Plowing Your Field

It's time. You have a field to plow. You have seeds to plant. You have a harvest to reap. Yes, all at the same time.

First, realize you have a field. God has given you a field and not only that you get to name it. Naming your field brings ownership. It brings dominion. And yes, stewardship too. However, women typically don't struggle with the stewardship part. We struggle more with the dominion part. But, girlfriend, YOU are a land owner. Stop for a minute and take a look around. What's on your land? What do you see? The land the Lord has given you is your sphere of influence. It's your area of ministry.

Second, acknowledge the seed you get to plant on your field. What's the "seed" God has planted in you? Is it artistic expression, writing, speaking, praying? You hold a powerful seed. It was birthed from heaven the moment you were created and you were meant to scatter that seed on your land. Name the seed while you cast it forth. It's ok to plant many fields. You've been given more than one field. You've been given more than one seed. Ecclesiates 11:6 tells us, "Sow your seed in the morning, and at evening let your hands not be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, or whether both will do equally well."

Keep believing for the harvest. Keep watering that field with words of love and life. Regularly stop and enjoy the fruit of your labor. Inspect the plants and rejoice over what's grown. Stoop down over the soil and believe new life will burst forth soon.

Your land is good because God has called it good. Your seed is good because God has deemed it so. Your harvest is good because God is the one who made it grow.


Go plow.