Intelleculy Simple

“Nothing that man purposes to do will be impossible for them.” – God (Genesis 11:6b)

The human brain is incredibly intellectual. The capacity to store, retrieve and formulate information and ideas is limitless. At the beginning of time, without internet or billions of people on earth to share information with, man began to build a tower to heaven. God created us with the capacity to do the “impossible” in our own purposes. Our own will and intellect and strength can, according to God, can accomplish anything we purpose. It boggles my mind. The amount of power, we as humans have. God gave us the capacity to literally do the impossible.

Yet, in that great power, we have been given an opportunity to sacrifice our own purposes, our own wills, our own desires and partner with God instead. In partnering with the living God, the one who created us, who gave us life, we are denying our own purposes and carrying out God’s purposes. It is a great battle. “Not my will, but your will be done.” Surrendering our will allows the LORD to do more than the impossible… it allows Him to reach his creation, it allows him to talk with his beloved humans, it gives Him power to perfect us, it give Him the power to carry out His plans through us.

Our intellectual power, interferes with the work of God. For in it, we believe that it is through us things are accomplished, that by us change is made. “We are God’s workmanship, created for good works in Christ, He calls us to offer of ourselves, a living sacrifice.” We were created for good works- but good works are temporal, if they are not rooted in the will of God. That is why we are called to sacrifice ourselves. We are literally putting our own agendas, ideas, purposes, plans, intentions on the altar, so that God’s agenda’s, ideas, purposes, plans and intentions can be carried out through us.

It’s no wonder why Jesus chose fishermen as his first disciples. Hard working, uneducated, simple men; their plans were to fish, make money for their families, repeat. They did not sit in the temple and get into long debates about the scriptures. They did not spiritualize events or actions or make plans to start a ministry or organization. It was easy for them to adopt the will of Jesus into their being. Jesus simply said, “Follow Me” and they did. They immediately subjected their will to His. Step by step, day by day, week by week, month by month, year by year, the disciples learned “not my will, but yours.”

They experienced the power of partnering with God. God always provided for them. There was no earthy need that was not met. Ministry happened organically. It was not planned in their hearts, it was embraced by their hearts. The plan has already been written. The organization has already been established. The mission and vision has already been laid out. All we have to do is “Follow Him.”

We were challenged with “Following Jesus” in 2008. Our life was in chaos and I heard the LORD say, “Sell all you have and follow me.” “All I have Jesus? What about my kids, and how am I going to live?” I told my husband what the Lord told me and he said, “Well let’s just start selling what we have until God tells us to stop.” So we did. We started with the extra “stuff” we owned. One by one, items began to leave our house. It was hard, sometimes, I held back and cried about “things” I was letting go of. It purged us. It stretched us out of the American mindset that we need “stuff.” It delivered us from the bondage of money and set us free from the expectations of others.

The hardest thing for me to sell was my kids Fisher Price toys. I put them out and brought them back in numerous time. It felt like I was selling my children’s childhood. Tossing it out with the wind. My dramatic flair, I am sure delights the LORD, as I emotionally embraced plastic toys and tied them to my children’s worth. I sobbed. I put them all out to sell. A family came by and looked at the toys. They were a young family, with four children under the age of 6. I could tell life had been hard for the mom. The dad too, looked exhausted and worn from the realities of life. “How much for all?” She asked. Now you have to realize. I come for a toy collector family. I know what toys are worth now and in the future. I told her $75 for the whole set. (I had a lot of Fisher Price toys) Her face dropped and she looked at her husband. He too seemed devastated. It hit me. “These are Fisher Price toys,” I thought in my head, “Not some Dollar Tree crap that has no worth.”

 They walked away from the toys and looked at some of the other things we had. After they were done looking around, they told their children it was time to go. Three of their children were playing with all the toys. They were laughing and make believing, using different voices and animal sounds as they acted out the scenes unfolding in plastic wonder. Their children begged their parents for these toys, like they were the latest items on the shelf. “Please!” The pleaded for the toys. The parents saw the wonder in their children’s eyes. I saw the hurt in the parent’s eyes that they could not afford even garage sale toys for their babies. “Would you consider selling them separately?” The dad asked. Of course I would NOT sell them separately! That was part of the value. A collection of toys, well cared for is where the value is at. “I am only selling as a set” was my answer.

Then the LORD spoke. “Teresa, let go of the things of this earth and follow me.” “But LORD, you told us to sell all we have, I am not going to just give things away!” A statement I wished I did not say. As the words formulated in my mind, I knew what was coming next. I heard the words that were harder than sell all you have. “I want you to give the whole set to them, as a gift from Me,” I heard the LORD say. I was fuming… steaming mad. “What?!?!? No, I am not giving these toys away, no way no how.” My thoughts were consumed in a temper tantrum with God. I was livid. I was already doing what He asked and it was HARD!!! Now you want me to just give away something I value and get nothing in return?

As I was immersed in thought, faint sounds of crying and hurt raised in the air. I came to, and saw the family getting into their old van. “Give them the toys!” I heard the LORD say. “Fine!!!” I yelled back to God, as my face put on the plastic smile. “Excuse me,” I yelled out to the parents. I think they thought I was about to accuse them of taking one of the Fisher Price people, because before they answered me, they both looked at their children to ensure nothing was in their hands. “Hold on,” I said. “I want to give you something.” I went to my garage and got out a big box, and a plastic bag. I started to put the Farm and the house and the gas station and the airport and the car wash and the fire station into the box. My children helped put the people and the animals and cars and trucks into bags.

“Here you go,” I said to the parents, “You can have these for your children.” I handed them the box. “We love these, but we just can’t pay for them.” I took credit for the action and said, “Don’t worry about the cost, they are a gift.” The dad fumbled in his wallet and took out some fives and tens and ones to pay me. “This is not a gift from you, it is a gift from Me,” The LORD reminded me. “No,” I said, “put your money away. These toys are a gift from God. He told me to give them to you, so you know just how much He loves you and your family. That he cares about the littles details of your heart.” My children handed the bags of toys to their children, standing there in awe, that I was just giving away these toys I had made them value.

Both of the parents began to cry. The mom, began to weep. She was overwhelmed by the love of God. Her face lightened and a burden lifted. She hugged me and told me that she did not know what to say. The dad was humbled, but not shamed. He felt honored, I think, that the LORD was there, in his midst. They both began to tell me that they could come by and pay me in payments for the toys. Again, I reminded them, that these were a gift from God. A cool light breeze swept across my front yard. I sensed the Holy Spirit covering them with hope, filling me with joy and our children with love. It was incredible. They got into the car and drove away. I never saw them again, and honestly, if I saw them in a crowd, one day, I would not even recognize them. As they drove down our street and turned the corner, I sighed a life changing sigh.

This event transfigured my soul. It changed my mindset and belief about myself and others. It helped me to see the stumbling blocks in my life and blessed me with the opportunity to partner with what God was doing. I will never know this side of heaven how my reluctant obedience affected this family. I will never see how those little plastic toys impacted this family. I do however see how this event changed me and my family. It was the beginning of a long journey to offer of ourselves a living sacrifice.

After that, the LORD said, “You are done. You do not have to sell anymore.” We closed up the yard sale and started to pack what remained in boxes. For the first time in my life, I felt I could trust God with our stuff, our finances, and our money. I discovered, that in reality, it is not mine anyway, but His, and I am just a caretaker of these things. Our family learned how to surrender our will and agendas. Even in the midst of obeying God, by selling all we had, I still had my own agenda. That $75 was going to be used for my own children. But God had a greater plan. I can only speculate that this event for the family was life changing. It may not have been. It may have only been a seed that was planted; or a weed that was pulled.

For us though, it started us on the journey of “Not my will but your will.” An adventure that has brought us to this place. The place of organic ministry flowing. Intense advocacy on God’s behalf as He presents it. Trusting God, no matter what our eyes see.

“With God, all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26

The Gift

Always? Always be joyful?

Is that even possible? To Always be joyful? No matter what happens?

Always be thankful!

Really? Always?

Even when life is falling apart around me?

Oh and by the way… pray too; while you are always being joyful and thankful… NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS.

Why? Oh because it’s God’s will for his children… oh okay… that seals it…

 I will ALWAYS BE JOYFUL AND THANKFUL… NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS!!!

Ummm… I don’t know about you… but yeah… that does NOT happen in my life.

I am NOT always joyful and thankful in all my circumstances. I don’t always pray through things.

Sometime I downright complain. Sometimes I give God the silent treatment.

 And being thankful? When we were sued for a million dollars; when my mom, dad and grandma died of cancer in two years; when our family dog died; when my husband could not get a job to save his life; when we had no hot water, waited in long lines at the food bank; got on welfare and food stamps; had one broken down car after another, with no funds to purchase a new one; gas and electric bills rolling in with 24 hour notices on them; counting change to pay for gas and sports and activities for our kids to be involved in, like normal kids; anxiety attacks that put me in the hospital; depression that tormented my husband; coaches bullying my son; mean girls spewing hate towards my daughter; broken washing machine; deep wounds coming up to the surface.

Sure I will be thankful for all those things… ummm… or maybe not.

Seven years of sorrow consumed my family like piranhas in our lives. It literally took us down to the bone. Raw, true, vulnerable. We were exposed, bare, broken… yet we kept our eyes on Jesus. That does not mean we were singing the halleluiah chours every day… but we continually looked to him, complained to, cried out to him, cussed at him. It was a purge, a volcanic eruption of every hidden and pressed down wound that was trapped in our soul. It came gushing out with a vengeance and kept on flowing for years…

But in the midst of this purge…something sneaked up on us. A quiet, secret, precious gift. The best kind of gift you can receive. You know the kind you never ever imagined or even thought of. The one that is everything you never knew you wanted. You know those kind. Well this is what the LORD gave to us.

A GIFT, all wrapped up in sorrow. We didn’t know it at the time, but the trials, the sorrow, the pain… It was just wrapping paper. It was the box that held the gift. As we went through each hard thing, as we endured each sorrow, as each wave of unexpected trial hit us in the face… we were being trained on how to unwrap this gift; how to use it. The trials were perfecting our faith, so that we could be joyful in our trials. We are nowhere experts at how to use this gift… but we have it in our possession and are doing our best to use it daily.

It seems that no matter where I turn today, sorrow, anger, grief, pain, hopelessness overcomes the world. I hear story after story of people who are overwhelmed by the tragedies of life. Do I say, “Always be joyful and thankful and pray, no matter your circumstances?” Um… no, I don’t. It is not a gift I can give. What I can give, is the expression of the gift I unwrapped in my own circumstances. I can bring comfort, prayer, love, hope. Walking out the Christian faith is no picnic. It is an everyday battle. All day and night the enemy comes to steal, kill and destroy us. All day and night, we have to fight the attack.

Thankfulness, joy, prayer… those are some to the weapons we have to fight back. Those are just some of the gifts God has given us to overcome darkness. Satan knows his days are numbered and so fights with a fury to turn us away from LOVE. In just the last two days, I have heard stories of unexpected death, suicide, homelessness, debilitating injury, cancer, rejection, abandonment, fear.

“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let the endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.” James 1:2-4

Here it is again, finding joy in the midst of various trials. Why? Because this testing of our faith produces endurance. Endurance for what? Endurance for the battle. The everyday struggles that the enemy hurls at us. The traumatic events that the enemy tries to destroy us with. Endurance is the power to endure (last, survive, continue) an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way.

Those who endure through great hardship, who find joy, who thank God in the midst of it, who pray without fail… We are counted as blessed. (James 5:11) For we know that it will push us to be more like Jesus. It is hard and I wish we could forgo the whole process. Yet the process works the sin out of us. It is a purification process- “making us perfect and complete, lacking nothing.”

Still, God is compassionate and merciful in the process. Giving us grace through the process.

My heart is full, my mind is overwhelmed; my love is deep, my anger is intense; my resolve is mighty, my resources are few. Still, with everything in me… I will praise my God, my ABBA, who give me life in the midst of this dying world. I will be thankful that I am His, even when everything around me fails. This world is not my home. I am a visitor, a stranger, on a journey home to live forever in perfection with my Savior, with my brothers and sisters in Christ.

I long for all of you to come. I desperately desire that all seek this gift of endurance in the trials, so that you will find yourself unwrapping the JOY, the deep, true, unfailing JOY that comes from persevering and believing that God has never left you. It is there that peace comes. It is there that rest remains.

Perfection is impossible… but blamelessness is POSSIBLE. Perfection is our goal… always walking towards it. And although it can never be obtained on this earth, it is the direction in which we are going. Thanking God along the way, being joyful no matter the circumstances, always praying and talking with God about the journey. This is His will for us… this is our goal.

May today bring us opportunities to share joy, be thankful and pray for others… NO MATTER THE CIRCUMSTANCES. 

Counting the Cost of Freedom

The lights in the room are turned off, music plays, lyrics flash on the screen in the room.

Twenty seven young men sit and watch as the words flash in front of their eyes:

I won't stay here another night

If I gotta sacrifice

Who I am on the inside

I'd rather be an outsider

And you can stay if you'd like

I'll see you on the other side

I wanna live the free life

I'd rather be an outsider [5x]

Yeah

Outsiders

I really can't tell if I'm over-dressed or I'm under-dressed

If I'm under-paid, or just over-stressed

If I'm cynical, or just over this

Cause I'm tired of trying to get over them

Man, it's over then, party's over

You probably couldn't tell that we over here, because you hardly sober

Double shots in that ego

They laughing at us, yeah, we know

Maybe at the bottom, but we not forgotten

The directors plotting that sequel

Till' then we live on the outside

And it might storm and we might die

But, I'd rather go where my fist high

Standing outside of your inside

I tried my best to fit in

Looking for a suit to fit in

Standing outside of your prison

Trying to find ways I could get in

Now I realize that I'm free

And I realize that I'm me

And I found out that I'm not alone cause' there's plenty people like me

That's right there's plenty people like me

All love me, despite me

And all unashamed and all unafraid to speak out for what we might see

I said there's plenty people like me

All outsiders like me

And all unashamed and all unafraid to live out what they supposed to be

Uh

I know what they asking for, I know what they asking for

But, how you gonna come and charge me, my life is sold, and then turn around and ask for more

Time to go, plus the line is long

I'ma color the outside, but lines a drone

If you wanna exclude me, for being the true me

It's Gucci, I already found my home

Homesick

Homeless, if I'm on this

Cause' my home is somewhere I ain't never been before

I'ma own this here gift, even if it doesn't fit in the box that'll bleed these folks

Some of ya'll don't need these quotes

I ain't tryna' eat, I'm tryna' feed these folks

Martin, Mandela, yeah, we need these folks

We believe these folks

We can be these folks

Yeah

But they want me to take an L

Tired of taking losses, so they can call me a failure

I failed at being you, but I'm winning at being me

I'm winning at being free, ain't no competition but me

See I realize that I'm free

And I realize that I'm me

And I found out that I'm not alone, and there's plenty of people like me

I said there's plenty of people like me

All outsiders like me

All unashamed and all unafraid to live out what they supposed to be

Outsiders!

You spend your time

So many lives

Turn on the lights

Open your eye

We'll be running through the night

It's brighter on the other side

Somethings bigger than You and I

Brighter on the other side [5x]

The lights turn on and they are looking at a fisherman of Jesus. His heart is full and his passion is intense. He is overwhelmed with love for the boys who are seeking the Christ, a Savior. He is not eloquent, he did not receive a Bible degree or any degree for that matter. He is like Peter. An entrepreneur, who left all he had to follow Jesus. When Jesus said walk on water, Peter said, “Yes Lord.” Peter was the only one of his followers who said yes. It is true with this 21^st century Peter. When the Lord said, “Trust Me, Follow Me, Believe Me,” he said yes.

The young men listen intently, yet they are still young men. Giggles, phones flashing off and on, fidgeting, pushing each other to move, getting up to go to the bathroom, take a phone call or get more food. There are only males in the group. No young girls to distract them from hearing the Holy Spirit. I see them crowded around the room, on couches, laying on the floor, sitting on the fringes and realize they have become brothers. They are becoming a family. They are open and honest, they share their struggles and fears and weaknesses. They cry in front of each other, confess sin to each other, grow with each other.

They are learning how to be an Outsider. Learning how to Rebel against the world. They are multicultural, coming from very different backgrounds and experiences. Their hearts are torn into pieces from a life that isn’t fair. Many of them do not have fathers that are present. Raised by single moms or grandmothers, they long to know what a REAL MAN is. They are desperate, hungry for TRUTH. They want to be different. They want to be Men of Honor, Men of Character, Men of Integrity.

So the group grows. It started with 6 young men, 2 of which were our own. Some young men gave their lives to Christ at a football camp, but had no place to grow. The fisherman saw that they needed a place, so started a little Bible Study, called Real Talk. He gave them space to come as they were. Rough, cussing, drinking, smoking pot, having sex - young men, followed the fisherman to grow in their new found faith. That was September 2012. Those 6 young men were discipled and loved, and learned how to be a follower of Jesus. The next year, September 2013, the young new fishermen started sharing their faith with others. One by one new boys started coming. One by one young men gave their lives to Christ. One by one young men made a public profession of faith and were baptized. The group grew; in faith and in number.

Then, it happened. Something I used to read about in Revelation. Something that seemed so far off from my everyday life. Christians being beheaded for their faith. Twenty one young men, going about their lives, were abducted and brought to an ISIS camp for the purpose of terror and threat. They weren’t much different from our young men sitting in the youth room we meet in. Men, on their way to work, newly married, looking for a job. Men who were fathers, sons and husbands. They weren’t radical Christians, they were everyday Christians. Men, who went to church, who worked, who loved their families. My image of what the beheaded Christians looked like in Revelation was very different than what I saw on the news. They are us, just in another country. They were once new believers, walking away from the world and walking in faith in a country that denies it. They were Outsiders who died for their faith, who were killed simply because they loved Jesus.

I look around the room and see the two young men who just gave their lives to Christ this weekend. I wonder if they know how much it costs to follow Jesus. I wonder if they would lose their life for Him, knowing that they would spend eternity with their Savior. For these boys a beheading is far from their minds. But death is not. Just the week before another young life was taken by gangs. They are familiar with it. They know how short life can be. The fisherman reads Romans 12; Do not be conformed to this world, but renew your mind. For this group of young men walking away from the world, it is the biggest challenge of their lives.

They are learning to be Outsiders. They are beginning to believe that they are free, they are realizing who they are and that there are plenty of people like them, all love them, despite them; all unashamed and all unafraid to speak out for what they might see. Outsiders who aren’t afraid to live out what they are supposed to be.

And so, this group of Outsiders becomes a family. They stand outside the prison, door open and encourage others to follow them to the place where freedom is.

Please pray for our Christian men. They are being devoured by the enemy. Please consider partnering with what God is doing in our West Fresno/Easton area.

For more information about how you can partner with us call 559-776-9313

Or Go to our Facebook page and LIKE

Real Authentic Worship

Remembering the lost.....

We walked in when Janessa’s mom was telling her story. She was at the laundry mat with her nine year old daughter. All of a sudden she heard fire crackers and asked her mom why? Janessa’s mom thought they were too, but a friend said they were gun shots. Then Janessa told her mom her stomach hurt. Her mom looked and saw what looked like a cigarette burn. Her friend realized it was a gun shot. She was rushed to the hospital. Her mom recalled the last things her daughter said to her and shared how amazing her little girl was.   Many tears were shed, many people were holding each other. On stage congressmen, police officers, pastors and faith based organizations stood to support the family. An innocent life taken, in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Then this mother, who had just lost her daughter to senseless violence, said in a loud voice…”I forgive the ones who were involved in this shooting.”

Tears streamed down my face. My resolve grew even stronger. Why do these kids do these things? Why do they think shooting at each other is going to solve anything?

It took me back to 2011. My mother was dying of cancer, Elijah was playing football at an underprivileged high school and we were barely surviving. I read on Facebook that a young African American boy was shot in the head during a Russian roulette game, from Edison high school. It grieved my heart, but I was so disconnected from it, the reality of this life did not scathe me. The next day, while I was at a football practice I met a young man, who played football with my son. He was a very nice looking man, with enchanting eyes and a strong sense of pride. I engaged him, asking about his life and why he wasn’t practicing. He shared that his friend had just been shot and killed and didn’t feel like practicing. I determined, through our conversation, that it was the young man I had read about on Facebook.

Something happened to me that day. It connected me to the boy who was shot. I was just one person away from it. My kids were going to school with the kids who were affected by it. I changed me. It gave me resolve to make a difference, to be a positive voice in the mind of the youth, were so much negative is spoken over them. I vowed on the deceased young man’s Facebook page to make his life matter. To make a difference in his community.

Three years later, my husband and I are all in. Coaching, Bible Study, FCA, camp, prayer, making dinners, encouraging words... I had a conversation with the same young man from that football practice in 2011, Isaac, before he graduated about a shirt he was wearing. It that had three young men on it and R.I.P. across the top. I inquired about the young men on the shirt and he told me that one was his cousin, one was his older brother and one was the young man he told me about earlier that was shot from Russian roulette.

“Why?” I asked him. “Why do young men get involved in this kind of activity?” He began to tell me their stories. Each one of them. What happened, how they were shot, who was responsible and when it happened? I listened carefully, trying to find the key to stopping the violence. I asked him again, “Why does this happen so often in West Fresno?” I asked him. His answer shocked me, troubles me to this day. “Because we have nothing to do. People get bored, so they hang out and smoke and drink and get involved in gangs to have something to do.”

My heart skipped a beat. His answer was so matter of fact. He was so certain that if there were things to do, less people would get involved in gangs. He continued to tell me that there are skateboard parks in North Fresno, but not here. There are lights on at night for basketball in North Fresno, but not here. There are movie theaters and shopping centers to go to and do stuff in North Fresno, but not here. Then he continued to articulate his belief that with those kind of things in their community there would be positive things to do, jobs to work and poverty would be less. His intelligence and well thought out response told me he had thought about this many times.

I told him that I was going to do whatever it takes to make a difference. I shared my passion for the community and how God gave me a love for the youth in this community. He smiled and said, “Thanks that means a lot to me.”

Isaac encouraged Bill and I to do what we are doing now. Two years in the making RAW has become a full time ministry for us. Reaching youth, showing them how much they are loved and valued is our goal. In doing so, we found that much of what Isaac said is true. However, the source of violence stems in a mindset that has been passed down from generation to generation that affects the way family life happens.

Many of the youth we encounter come from broken homes. There is no sense of family life that is healthy and safe. In reality, the simple truth in how to stop gang violence lies in a simple action…. LOVE.

Love covers a multitude of sins

Love never fails

Love gives hope

Love produces value

Love gives purpose

Love multiplies

Love invades

God is LOVE

The practical aspects of engaging young people to steer away from gangs, violence and drugs can be found in the “things to do” as Isaac said; but the life changing events that make a difference lie in relationships, rooted in love and lived out in truth.

Janessa’s mom sat down and many faith based organizations shared how they are doing their part to help Stop the Violence. I didn’t even stop to think about the thugs who shot her. Why would I? There senseless violence took and innocent life.

The next morning I woke up to a foggy day schedule. We all got to sleep in and I was thankful for some added sleep. My phone beeped and I looked to see what the notification was telling me. Someone pinned one of my Pinterest pins; someone liked my Instagram photo; 5 new emails; Full lives on Candy Crush; Facebook notifications; Instant Messenger. I clicked on the Instant Messenger to see who sent me a message. I opened it. A mom from Washington Union wrote:

“Did you hear about Isaac Sears? I am just sad by it all.”

My heart stopped.

“No, what happened?” I responded.

“He was arrested for 9 year old Janessa shooting death. Him and another gang rival. I will share the link…. Praying for all,” she wrote back.

“What?!?!? Are you sure? I thought he went to college!” I typed frantically.

As I waited for her to post the link, I frantically looked it up. I saw the story on ABC news, clicked it and read. It said Isaac Stafford and Brian Cooks were involved. Sigh of relief left my lips.

“It said Isaac Stafford…not Sears… thank goodness!!!” I wrote her back.

“It’s him. Didn’t you see the pic? I don’t know why a different name” was her quick response.

Her next message was a picture of the two young men involved.

I started to cry. It can’t be him… There is no way this kid is involved in this. He had such resolve and focus to go to college and play basketball and stay out this kind of life, since 3 of the people he loved were lost to it.

It was him. The young man who encouraged me to do what I do today. All of a sudden my mind wandered to the Stop the Violence rally. I was so angry and disgusted at the thugs who did this and gave them no other thought. But this “thug” was not a thug at all. In fact that would be the last word I would use to describe him. He was in no means a perfect kid. But generally kept his head down to do what needed to be done to play basketball in high school and college.

Another layer of love opened up in my heart.

The first layer was the night I was taking a kid home from Bible Study. Noah and I were in the front seats and 3 of the boys from Real Talk were in the back. We were all laughing and joking around, Lecrea playing in the background. I was following the directions of one of the boys to get to his house. As I turned the corner, there was a drug deal going down. The guys at the window saw my 1999 red Cadillac and jumped. The driver opened his door and pulled a gun on us. I put the car in reverse and punched it harder than I have ever driven before. My heart was beating out of my chest, “Ummm, is there another way to your house?” I asked the boy calmly.

We took another way and I dropped him off. I found out that one of the biggest drug dealers in the West Side had the exact car that we had, so it was a case of mistaken identity. I was thanking Jesus for protecting us, when all of a sudden my heart grieved. Instead of going through the what ifs in my head, as I usually do, I thought about the boy who lived in this neighborhood. I was devastated that he has to live this out every day. My heart changed. Instead of thinking about me, I thought about him.

I literally wondered if I could actually reach such a hard and dark place. I questioned our little Bible Study and pondered if we were making a difference at all. The fear I usually have, melted away into a puddle of love for these families and kids, who live in a community that suffers greatly.

I looked at Isaac’s picture, read all the stories that were posted about the event and just cried and prayed. I did not know what else to do. The Lord reminded me of a book I read by Jackie Pullinger, Chasing the Dragon. She went into the worst city in Hong Kong and dealt with the vilest gangs. Yet, her little Bible Club began to grow and change an entire city. It moved the hardest gangs to their knees in faith of Jesus and hundreds and thousands were set free from a life of drugs, gangs and human trafficking. I realized that is was no different here. Our little Bible Club was making a difference. Our prayers were effecting change. Our persistence to LOVE was changing lives.

And so we continue to fight the good fight. Praying for those who are the shooters, as well as though who have been shot. All need hope, all need love, all need forgiveness. I am so thankful for Janessa’s parents. In their forgiveness to Brian and Isaac, they have shown more love than most. They have partnered with us in showing love to those who many write off. Their love and forgiveness may be the very thing that brings them to the saving grace and hope that Jesus has to offer.

Today as I process the grief and the pain of a life gone too soon and young men, who will bear the burden of it. Today, we press on with the vision God has put in our heart, believing God is going to bring revival and hope.

If you would like to more about the vision God has put in our hearts and would like to support what we are doing to show the LOVE of Jesus, please:

- like us on Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/pages/RAW-Real-Authentic-Worship/1532870260290204

- email us at beukersbill@gmail.com

- leave a comment below

Playing in the mud

Life is messy.

It is not a neat organized, well planned event.

No matter how well we fake it, present it, package it- it’s a mess.

It is messy in our childhoods, messy in our love lives, messy in marriage, messy in parenthood, messy in friendships, messy in extended family, messy at school, messy at work.

It is the way the world works. Broken, falling apart, always dying. There is no hope in this world that can fix the messes. No joy in cleaning up the messes.

My life is a mess. It has always been a mess. From the moment I was brought into this world. Parents, not long after marrying, barely hanging on. Yelling, screaming, fighting; my father’s unfaithful heart broke my mothers. Messy. Divorce, depression, fear; my mother’s broken heart began to break ours. Messy.

At a young age, my innocence was stolen from me. Messy. Trying to find love and acceptance. Messy Falling in love with the wrong person, at too young an age. Messy. Giving too much of myself away. Messy.

I believed that life, was a fairy tale and that my prince would swoop me up from the messes and take me away to a castle far far away and all the messes would stay far behind me. My creative imagination captivated me and allowed me to live in Wonderland. My time there lasted only a year, but I found my Prince. His name is Jesus and he rescued me for the messes of reality.

In steps the man I was to marry. I was not attracted to him, I did not love him, yet the Lord told me he was my husband. I trusted my Prince and stepped into an adventure likened to Alice in Wonderland, falling down the hole into a place I could not even imagine in my mind.

For a moment in time, I felt safe and calm, brushing all the messes of my life under the rug. And for a time, a short while, we presented a clean, well-organized front.

The messes of my life and his, began to seep out from under the rug and our life became messy. In our most noble attempts to follow the Bible, trust God and believe Jesus, the messes of our lives created havoc in our marriage. Arguments, disagreement, words that can never be taken back. Forgiveness, repentance, washing our hands in the redeeming love of Jesus. Finding a way to live in the mess.

Not long after, children adorned our life and the messes from our own childhoods began to make their ways into our family. Fighting hard to keep the messes off our children, we became more of a mess. The arguing-refrained, turned into fear; the disagreements-kept quiet, turned into depression. Still the messes grew and grew in our little family. On a physical front, emotional and spiritual.

Trying to look good for church, we brushed the mess under the rug, smiled and waved at the perfect, plastic church people who maintained a clean, tight, organized life. Inadequacy wrecked our lives. At work, at home, as parents and lovers.

Then one day, as if a messenger from heaven came to deliver the message, hope came. The day was hot and miserable. The water was rushing form the hose and the kids were staying cool. Slowly the planter box filled up with water, as they played. I sat there, watching them slip and fall in the mud, laughing with a deep contentment. Mud flying everywhere, they giggled and slipped and threw the mess everywhere. Splats of mud smashed on the outside of the house, water spraying up into the air and spotting their dirty faces with hints of clean. Mesmerized by the beauty of innocence, wallowing in the mud, transfigured my mindset. Their joy spilled over into their us, thier parents, who threw off the image of clean perfection. We indulged in the simple wonder of contentment.

That was the day I began to delight in the messes. I began to delve into the messes. My vantage point was altered and the messes became an opportunity to play, to laugh, to be content. It was a life moment that would become my life motto. It was as if God was preparing me for the next part of my life. For not long after we encountered the messiest time of our lives.

Following dreams, losing dreams. Facing reality of poverty and loss. Insecure, angry, hopeless. Fighting, not arguing, fighting and yelling and screaming. Homelessness, fear, death. Being swallowed up in the abyss of grief, sorrow overtaking me. Oppression, continued poverty, more death. Guilt, shame, regret.

In the middle of it all, were my children. The ones I wanted to spare from the messes of this life. Standing right in the middle of it, my children experienced an indescribable mess. And, as if prophetic, I watched them play in the midst of it. The mess saturated their being, but it was just mud. It was just a time. The mess is still very present in their lives. It covers them from head to toe. But they have learned to find the joy in the mess, it is not debilitating. They have learned to be content in the mess, it has not destroyed them. They have learned to make the mess fashionable, and walk around without explanation of the mess.

In my attempt to keep my kids from the messes of this life, they were immersed in it. In my passion to give them more, the Lord reached down and showed me that “Life is the messy bits!” It is the stuff that defines us, that grows us, that shapes us. It will never be clean and tidy, it will always be a mess.

And so I delight in the messy bits of life. I find ways to play in the mud. I do my best to see things from the vantage point of my little children, who took the dirt of life and made it an adventure.

Life is a mess, but Jesus cleans us up. He wipes our faces so we can see, He cleanses us from the filth.  We will get dirty again, because this journey is long. But there is a promise that in eternity, the messes will no longer exist. Everything will be neat and clean and orderly as Jesus cleanses us from the filth.

Until then, I will trudge through the mud, finding new ways to play. New ways to make mud pies and mud baths and mud castles and mud art. I will embrace the reality that life is a mess, and I, I was made to play in it.