Monday, March 18, 2013

Eyes to See

My blogs have generally been about the deep places of my heart. The journey of reconciliations between my wounds and my love for Jesus. In the quiet desperation of pain, I have processed through writing and shared it with you. 

It has brought me to a place of complete and total surrender. Realizing that in all my pain and quiet suffering, that in all my anger and frustration with the silence of God, with all my sorrow and financial lack, one thing is imprinted on my DNA: I will always serve God. I will always love my Jesus. I do not know any other way. 

The Lord has moved in my life in a way that is unexpected and raw. I have to be true to the title of this blog... Real... Authentic... Worship... every day living that is not covered or religious or masked. It has cost me. I have been rebuked, belittled and questioned in my choice to live so transparent, yet I believe that is what God has called me to do.

So this next chapter of my blog will be about this new road the Lord has directed us too... planting a church. It will be the same... raw, true, transparent. Sharing the ups and downs of the journey. He has given us to see in a way we have never seen before and we will act on what he has shown us....

Eyes to See


My eyes are open and I see. I see the pain around me, the poverty, the murder, the drugs and alcohol that surround these kids. They are raised in it and know no different. They smile and wave to me when I see them. Quiet desperation of trials comes out in their words as they speak to me. Seeing someone stabbed in front of them, uncle shot in front of them, mom high again, brother in a gang, dad in prison, poverty in their everyday life.

Even in my most desperate times in life, I cannot relate to such intense struggle. Yet they smile. Yet they come to school and practice. I love these kids. I love their parents, who are in the place they are because of their own trial, their own pain. One of the moms I encounter is always high. She has five children who have five different fathers. She tries to do for them all she can in her brokenness. I see her drive kids to games and practice and appts. Her drug addiction keeps the pain she suffers quiet for a time. She lives across the street from a drug house. Always people outside with their smokes, 40’s and drugs.

I drive by there all the time. I wave to the men who hold the drugs. I smile at them and honk at the mom as I make my way to the school in the neighborhood. I see the colors flashing of gang territory and I do not fear. This community has come to accept us. They wave at us, joke around when we stop to see the mom. My husband drove to this street, to drop a child off from a football game,, and the men surrounded the car to make their presence known. He opened the door, stepped out and the intensity of violence turned into casual conversation. Asking about the game and thanking him for taking care of one of their own.

There was a drive by shooting in that neighborhood recently and still we go, still we wave, still we do not fear. I see them, these people who have endured hardship and I want to tell their story. I want to show them Jesus; I want to give them hope. For now, I just smile and wave. I build their trust, their way. I talk their talk and I walk their walk. I want them to know I am not there to change them, but to invade their culture with the love of Jesus.

One of my son’s friends told me his mom had been in a coma for over a year. When I asked what happened, he said he was not sure. He was at his grandma’s house for a few days and when he went home to check in with his mom, she was on the floor, beat to a pulp. No one knew who did it or why it happened. They took her to the hospital where she has been for a year. “She just woke up,” he told me. I put my arm around him to assure him that life was going to be okay, but he already made that assessment. He has already learned to adapt. My heart ached for him, but this is what he knows.

God is opening doors we did not expect or imagine, but we are faithfully walking through them. He is giving us eyes to see and we are taking it all in. He is giving us ears to hear and we are listening. He is giving us words to say and we are saying them. In this unexpected journey of love, I am healing. I don’t see thugs or gang bangers; drug addicts and alcoholics; poverty or filth; I see people that Jesus loves. I see families that are holding on. I see miracles and restoration.

As I dropped my oldest off to school today, one of the girls I talk to all the time, sees me, gets a big smile on her face and waves frantically… I smile and wave back. She turns to look at me again as she walks onto the school ground and waves again. I wave back in a silly fashion; she chuckles and then lifts up her head. I could see the spring in her step. I knew she saw the Lord. I knew right then that her eyes beheld the love of her Savior through me and I felt honored that the Lord would use me.
My son smiled and said, “You know more people than me.” I replied, “It’s because I want them to know Jesus.” He smiled and said, “They will mama, they will.”

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