Confessions of a Nobody #3 - Legacy of the ones taken too soon

His name is Marquis Sutton. I never met him. I never knew anything about him.

The sun was setting and the glow was dancing orange hues over the worn down stadium in Easton, Ca where my son was practicing football. I had come early to watch him practice with the new coach, and see how the team was doing.

To the left of me on the stadium stairs were a few of Elijah’s teammates sitting together, huddled close and talking quietly. One of the players put his hands in his face and another put his arm around him. I could sense the tension in the air, the sorrow, and continued to observe their actions. I scanned the field to see if I could make out the reason behind the sorrow, but could not pick up what was going on.

We had just started to settle into Easton. I was just started to get to know the players and the community. I knew these boys names, but don’t even think I had a conversation with them. I felt compelled to talk to them, as my mothering heart could not take the pain of these young people any longer.

“Is everything ok?” I asked intrusively.

The young man with his hands in his face, didn’t even look up at me. “I can’t believe he’s gone,” he said, “I just can’t believe it.” The other boys pulled in closer to the young man, as he began to cry.

“What happened?” I asked the friends standing near him, in the most compassionate tone I could acquire.

“Bruh, our boy was shot. They was playing Russian roulette or something. Like What The F@#k. Who does that?” There was a somber silence, then he continued, “That boy was gonna ball in the pros, man.” He shook his head in disappointment and then stopped talking.

“Is he from Washington Union?” I asked.

“Nah bruh, he from Edison.”

I did not know what to do. I had only heard of shootings on the news. The victims were just faces and names of an unfortunate situation, but had no bearing on my life. I had never been in a place where a shooting hit so close to home. I didn’t really know how to comfort them or what to say. I asked if I could pray for them, and they said yes. My prayer seemed feeble and ignorant, not able to grasp the pain they were overcome with.

I walked away and sat back down on the bleachers to wait for practice to end. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. It covered me like a shadow. I could not escape the reality. These boys, these young men knew this boy from Edison. They were friends, grew up together, had relationship with him. He was not just some name and face on the news. He was a part of their life.

Having homeschooled my children, and participating in home church, we kept our children close to home. Most of our friends homeschooled and home churched too. So this new life, of being in community with people who did not share my way of life, was perplexing.

When practice was over, we drove home and I asked Elijah if he had heard about the incident. He said that some of the players were crying and couldn’t practice, but didn’t really know what happened. When I got home, I searched the internet for a young football player who was shot from Edison, to see if I could get more information. I saw a news report and read it. My heart ached. It pained deep. The LORD was giving me a burden to pray for the families and friends of this young man. I had never experienced this kind of intercession before, to pray for people I did not know personally, but the calling was deep and personal. I prayed for hours and days for this family. My heart grieved for a young man, I never even met, for his family, whose names I did not know. This grief felt personal and real and my heart ached with a deep intensity.

I looked him up on facebook to see if I could get some more information. I saw pictures and read stories about this young man, wondering what he was like. I was blessed by the words that people were writing, a living memorial, solidifying his legacy in words and blessings. I was overcome with emotion and there I was, writing on his wall too… I dont know what I said, but I remember promising you that I would do my best to reach young people, so that more lives would not be lost.

Marquis, I have fulfilled that proclamation. Actually, both my husband and I have. After that, my husband started a Bible Study for young men, to find a safe place to go, to laugh, cry, eat, play and get to know Jesus, that only one who can deliver us from the pain of the world. It grew and grew, the Bible Study, and the ministry. We started a Friday night Open Gym, to give young people a positive, safe place to go and hang out. The Bible Study now includes young woman as well.

I wish we could do more.

I often speak about you, and how your death was the inspiration for what we do today. It changed our lives and the lives of so many young men. Your light was not snuffed out when you died, it grew brighter. It is in every young man we minister to, help, encourage and inspire.

This past Friday, two young people I knew personally were shot and killed, Kayla DeBorde and William Harris. I knew them, had relationship with them, loved them, laughed with them, mentored them, did life with them. They were taken from this earth for no good reason. I have been in such pain, personally and also for the families that are let behind. My heart aches in the deep reaches of my soul.

At the Candlelight prayer vigil, you came to mind again. You inspired the words that came out of my mouth. You were remembered at their prayer vigil too, as I encouraged and challenged others to not snuff out the light that was in these two beautiful people, but to carry it on, let it grow brighter, go farther and last longer in the legacy of our lives and those after us. That is what we did for you, Marquis, me and my husband. We carried your legacy with us, even to the young people and families that were grieving William and Kayla.

I think back to the young boys who were grieving you that day that found out you were gone. Now, I know that pain. I feel it today, as I write this. My heart feels broken from the senseless violence that stole the legacy these young people were supposed to live out. Yet, in this pain and sorrow. I will continue to let their light shine in me as well. I will shine their lights too, for all the people I encounter. I will remember them, as I remembered you.

 I never met you, Marquis, but you left an everlasting impact on my soul.  You, William and Kayla will continue to live on in the ministry we do, in the lives we encounter, in the stories we tell.

I look forward to meeting you in heaven and seeing my sweet friends William and Kayla too. 

Marquis Sutton

Kayla DeBorde

William Harris

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. 

Church on Wheels... Why I am who I am Part 3

After my mom found faith, she was desperate to give it to us. My father, a devout atheist objected to such nonsense and would not subject himself to such foolishness. My mother, persistent and stubborn found a way to get me to church. She would stay home on Sundays with my father and brother and I was put on the Liberty Baptist church bus that came around my neighborhood to pick up kids.

I don’t have a lot of vivid memories of my time with both parents, but this series of memories is the most vivid of them all. In fact, I would say that the very foundation of my faith was established on those long bus rides to and from church. It was not in Sunday school or church. It was not the crafts or snacks they gave us. It was the relationships I built with the leaders and kids. You see the bus rides were not structured or strict; they were not regimen or mundane. They were full of life!

Songs were sung and stories were told and laughter raised at funny puppets that were used to entertain us. Individual attention was given to those, who were downcast; empowerment was bestowed upon those who were charismatic; love was given to those who were broken hearted; and encouragement was given to those who were lost. I honestly do not remember church or Sunday school. I do however, remember the bus rides.

I wish I could tell those volunteers, who may have deemed there service miniscule, how huge their sacrifice was. I wish I could tell the woman who used to encourage me to pray at 5 years old for my mom and dad that it became the core of my faith. I wish I could tell the man who did the funny voices for the puppets how much joy it brought me. I wish I could tell the bus driver, who endured the loud screaming and laughing children, what a blessing the service was. And to the couple who played their guitar and sang songs with us, on the hour long bus ride to the church; it transfigured my DNA to reflect Jesus, the son of the living God.

It was essentially a church on wheels. They could have drove us around for an hour or so, then dropped us back off at home, without ever stepping foot in “church” and I would have loved Jesus and followed him the rest of my life. I actually accepted Christ on that bus. I asked the lady who used to sit in the back how I could be a Christian and she prayed with me right then and there. I was baptized not long after in the “church” without wheels.

Ironically, that way of church has been in me since. It hit me like a ton of bricks… that is why I feel uncomfortable in traditional churches with walls and pews. That is why I prefer a church that is fluid and moves and changes with the spirit. That is why I struggle with the way modern day churches look. I was taught by example how to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. It didn’t come with a degree or title or certificate. It came with purpose, it came with sacrifice, and it came with LOVE!

As I grew up in “churches without wheels”, I became increasingly disappointed and angry at the irreverent behavior towards this pure, loving, funny, selfless Jesus I had come to know through these nameless ambassadors of Jesus Christ. The pastors and leaders waved their titles and degrees over the heads of those who attended, lording their authority over them. There was abuse of authority, pride, deception, manipulation and elitism running rampant in the place that was supposed to give just the opposite.

I saw my mom and step dad bow down to the god of religion, being deceived by the seductive voice of eloquent speakers, who used the Bible as a reference. I saw my brother being completely emasculated and demeaned and belittled and devalued by the “so-called” church leaders, who protected to malice of the pastors kids against my brother; rather than extend the hand of mercy and love and justice to him. I saw idolatry and adultery; doctrine of man and excessive productions; all in the name of Jesus. I began to hate the church and what it stood for. I wanted nothing to do with the church, but everything to do with Jesus.

I married a man, who knew nothing of church expectations or mandates; a man who came to know Jesus in his 20’s. He was in love with Jesus. He loved the Word of God and the grace and forgiveness that was given to him and the joy he found from following Him. We began a journey of reconciliation to the church.

What did it look like, how would we get there, how could we ensure its authentic nature and foundational truths? From two extremes we pushed and we sought and we studied and we prayed and we fasted to determine what the Lord would have for us. For most of our married years we chose to just do church at home. Teach our kids the truth about Jesus Christ and show them love.

It proved to be a path that was successful. We would encounter people at sports events or the park or the grocery store or school or neighbors and inevitably would share Jesus with them. Our home had a door that became revolving and people would come and go daily for prayer or Bible Study or fellowship or help. We did not need a big fancy church with a huge mortgage to engage our community. We were doing it the New Testament way. Through encounters that the Lord arranged.

I was content with this “church on wheels” way of living and would not change a thing… but the Lord had a different plan.

Sunday Morning dread...

I wish Sunday mornings in church buildings across America consisted of a family style breakfast, where everyone sits around tables and eats and drinks and talks about their week. Where many different people from many walks of life got up and shared what The Lord revealed to them that week in Spirit or in the Word. 

Where the spiritually mature watched over to be sure truth was spoken, but didn't find their identity in a title or position. 

Where people prayed for one another while they are eating and drinking and the results of those prayers were healing; emotionally, spiritually and physically. 

Where worshiping in song happened after Acts 2:42-43 took place, and it was not limited to the program or time, but went as long or short as the spirit led. Where people who don't worship in song could stay and pray or fellowship or minister to or be ministered to by the people they are breaking bread with! (Which is actually communion, not the wafer grape juice nock off version)

I wish churches in America looked like what the Bible says they should look like and not how man says it should look like. I wish Bible colleges stopped giving people papers that says they are pastors, when in fact only God determines who is equip to lead. I wish churches put less stake on paper and more on discernment of character. 

I wish pastors stopped teaching tithing and instead expected giving as a by product of loving Jesus. Where people gave as much or as little as they felt lead and they did not have to measure their gift by a number or a percentage. 

I wish churches in America were filled with gang bangers, prostitutes, homeless, single moms, Adulterers, porn addicts, drug addicts, alcoholic, abusive and abused people, so that they could receive the saving grace and love of a Savior, who already died innocently on a cross for them to experience freedom from the bondage they are in; so they could be loved by those who already know the love of Jesus. So they would feel like the most beautiful, valued people on earth! 

I wish the American church embraced other denominations besides their own, collaborated with with other churches, ministries and individuals who have the common goal of being people to the saving grace of Jesus Christ; instead of competing with one another. 

I wish I could see Jesus lived out in the churches as he promised us: "Greater things will you do in my name." GREATER THINGS!!! Meaning greater than what He did in the Bible? Do you see "greater things" happening at your church? 

Then....

I wouldn't wake up on Sunday morning dreading going to a building that says it is Christian, but is really just another place to promote self and agendas. 

I wouldn't dread worshipping in song and listening to singers who have no concept of the heart of worship! I wouldn't be irritated by a man or woman who  decides that 3 songs is enough.

I wouldn't have to listen to one man over and over again, giving me their perspective of God. 

Do people really think that the nature of God can be summed up by one person! If so, we serve a small limited God! No one person can clearly communicate God, which is why it is mandatory that multiple people share their perspective of how God loves them, so we, as a community can have a more well rounded view of the Creator of this Universe! 

I was in church last week and listened to the 20 year veteran pastor talk about vanity. I would rather hear the guy who was sitting in front of me tattooed up with gang symbols! I would love to hear his take on vanity! He was weeping during worship, because you could see it was deep for him! It was not an obligation or duty! Jesus Christ was his life!

Sigh...

So off I go to some building, where I will reach deep to grab whatever crumb of the Word I am given today, that generally lacks passion or conviction. I will worship in song, with everything in me and be told later by my kids that people were staring at me. My husband will leave during the sermon and go outside to pray for the pastor... My kids will look at me with their "really" mom faces, because we have taught them the truth about what the Bible says about church and they are wondering why we are there.

And we will do our best to love, serve and worship in a broken place called -the American church!

I wonder...

I wonder...

What Joseph went through as he sat in a jail cell completely forgotten. I wonder if he ever lost hope or suffered from depression or felt completely and totally alone. I wonder if, even in his provision and favor felt as if he was a crazy person. I wonder if he dreamt about the day when he was released and what he would do or say. I wonder how many times he questioned God. How many times had conversations with God about the unfair predicament of his situation?

I wonder…

So many times when we think about people in the Bible we picture super-human beings who were able to smile and wave through all their struggles while singing praises and thanking God for all their circumstances. They were human like us. They probably cussed a few times, doubted, worried, feared, questioned and even sinned. The people we read about in the Bible struggled with their callings, their families, and their flesh. Yet God still used them.

I see that happen a lot in the Christian culture. This façade of “perfect” that one thinks must be portrayed to be a true “Christian.” I often think of how sad a life that must be; to pretend to be someone you’re not to try to reflect Jesus, who died to purify us. There is no perfect on this earth. There is only imperfect. That is why Jesus is coming back to get us, that is why God is destroying this current earth and creating a new heaven and a new earth.

I wonder…

Why this life I live is hard. Why, no matter how many jobs we apply for, none come our way. I told my husband today, maybe you should apply for jobs you are not qualified for, instead of the jobs you are qualified for and see if you get a job that way. Cuz you are sure not getting a job applying for jobs you are qualified for. Five years we have been doing this… FIVE!!! My nerves are fraying. My hope is holding on. I am undone. I mean completely unraveling. I have no control of my life and it is causing me to break.

I wonder…

How much more of me can break? I am already broken, already undone, already shaken. I have to keep reminding myself that a broken life with Jesus is better than a whole life without Him. My body is revolting and I feel out of alignment. I don’t know where to go, what to do, how to get there. Everywhere we turn doors close. Even in areas where we hear the Lord say go, SLAM! The door closes with a force that pushes me back.

I wonder…

Is it just me or are other people feeling agitated at the current state of our church and state and country. I see an expression of Jesus that I think is manufactured and it irritates me. I see people being turned away from the truth because they are not holy enough or righteous enough or clean enough. I see churches blame groups of people for the reason there is violence or injustice. I want to change it, but feel paralyzed on how to.

I wonder…

If this weight will ever come off of my body. Will I really be able to be successful if I got picked to go to Biggest Loser? What about my kids? Could I really leave them for 6 months at the most important time of their lives? Elijah’s last year in high school, Noah’s first year in high school and Carah a Jr. Higher. Would I be able to withstand the loneliness of not being around my most important support system? Would I break some more? Would I be able to handle the fact that I am doing something for myself and not for my family?

I wonder…

Why people feel threatened by our hearts desire to want to help the youth. I wonder why people in the Christian community find it necessary to invalidate who we are with rumors and lies and stir up trouble amongst our Christian family. Do we really scare you? Are we really intimidating? What is it about us that scare you from my raw authentic approach to life? Or is it that you are scared someone will require you to be the same and you don’t want to take the mask off. Is it really necessary to us abusive tactics to get people in the church to follow you? How about just show the love of Jesus? How about that!!! Maybe then the church would grow!! And youth would be knocking down your door!!!

I wonder…

How much more of this the Lord will require of us to take. I hope it is not too much longer. I hope!!! I have a lot of things I want to do and see and experience with my kids… they are almost grown and gone... Please Lord, hear our prayer; hear our cries; hear our thoughts. We need some breakthrough. Will it come soon?

I wonder…

my prayer

Death is all around me... I have never experienced it so much. The sorrow is unreal. The questions real and true. I have been around life most of my life. Seen people die mostly because of old age. Long lives of health and happiness lived and family around to celebrate that blessing. Recently however, I have seen lives cut short, to early to go home with the Lord. I have been exposed to disease and sickness the is from the pit of hell. It has become overwhelming to me. I am not sure what to make of it.

So here is my request, my desire to my Lord:

Father, the desire of my heart is to live. Not to breath in the air on this earth, but to live!!! To walk in abundant living with my family, to be a blessing to everyone around me. My desire, more than anything is to have white hair and wrinkles, to hold my great-grandchildren and be active and fit enough to play with them on the floor. I desire to grow old with my husband, to touch people's lives who need to feel your presence. My desire is to make a difference in my family line. To stop generational curses from continuing down my family. That is my desire, Lord, to leave a legacy of family and love and truth and health. May sickness and disease not touch my family, I curse it and command it to die, in the name of Jesus. May enviromental garbage not have a hold on my family, I ask for protection for myf family in the name of Jesus. You say we have not because we ask not... and so Lord, I am asking. This is my desire. This is my request. May the spirit of fear not touch my family and may love always abound. Lord, remove this shroud that covers us... it is not your way, it is not how we desire to live. Help us to make every day the best day, no matter the circumstances. Please give us favor and bless us in all we do. Please keep my kids safe and on the straight and narrow. In Jesus name, Amen!