Abide with me

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me ...I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you... I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full."(excerpts from John 14-15).

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As I was soaking in these Scriptures this morning, I began to wrestle with the concept of abiding. The term ABIDE means "to stay, to stand, to endure, to reside, to dwell, to remain, to bear." Immediately, as I reflect on the the realities of the Father abiding in me, and I in the Father, I cannot but help and think about my own pain and brokenness (ie. absent father, broken relationships, and other themes of abandonment). Is it really true? The Lord abides with me? "I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you..." What would it look like for God to stand with me? To endure with me? To bear all things with me? And for me to stay with Him? To reside with Him? To remain in Him? And to abide in His love? 

Today, it struck me as I was at the hospital visiting my sick grandma, Lela. What she asks of me is simply to "abide" with her -- to stay, to endure, to remain, to bear her pain and be with her. There is nothing in me that can heal her, but there is power in simply abiding. A ministry of presence. Because we love each other, we don't necessarily need words to communicate our love. Holding her hand, exchanging glances and smiles, and reminding her that I'm there is enough. 

As I think about God the Father and His promise to abide in me, I am comforted. He will never leave me or abandon me in my pain. I am in a season where I have never been more challenged to stand firm in my faith. I have had my faith pruned and plucked and squeezed and stretched. I've lost so much. All the while trying to be faithful to God. His pruning of our faith does not always feel very loving; and at times, it can feel very lonely, and I come out kicking and moaning. But God abides with me in it. He doesn't prune us then leave us. He doesn't abandon us in it. His love endures.

In the same simple ways my grandma asks me to "abide" with her, God asks the same of me. Be with me. Stand with me. Endure with me. Remain in me. And it is by being in His presence that I am healed. That I am able to receive love. That I am able to love. That I am able to receive the fullness of joy. And ultimately bear fruit that brings God glory. 

As yesterday's pain and tomorrow's worries threaten to rob me of my joy, I am challenged today to simply abide. To be present to the moment. To take in all the love that God has for me today. To rest and know that He is God.

Psalm 139:18, "I awake, and I am still with you."

Wait and See

Words have power. But God's promises extend into eternity.

6 years ago, God spoke. Sitting in a 25,000 seat auditorium at the 2006 Urbana conference, God made it very clear that He was sending me. Sending me to the city. This was going to be my mission field. Not a life of comfort. Of seeking after the American dream. But one of identification with my urban neighbors. Making this my home. And seeking after the shalom of the city. Where, when, how, what? He didn't give those answers. He just said go.

Many of you that have history with me, you know my story. It has been an "up and down, but always forward" kind of journey. Trying to be faithful to the calling God has put in my life. He gave me a lightning bolt experience where I could see into the future what He wanted for my life in 2006, but then He only gave me a flashlight to get there. It has not been a linear path, but every time God has revealed the next step, I've taken it.

So, here I am. 6 years later. 2012. In Long Beach (via Wheaton, IL then La Mirada, CA). Invested. 

The last 18 months since my move to Long Beach has been one of extreme faith-testing and trial. Full of almost-moments, midnight hour breakthroughs, unexpected gifts, and heart-breaking loss. Obedience to God has not been the smooth and easy road. It's been quite the opposite, actually.

Lately, we have been studying in depth the story of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis 13-17 in Life Group. God must of had me in mind when He was writing their story. I have never identified with a character in the Bible as I have with Sarah. She knows what it's like to painstakingly wait for a promise to be fulfilled. She understands pain, loss, betrayal, and disappointment. She knows what it's like to have a great call on her life but feel powerless to make it happen. She knows what it's like to have her faith tested at the core of her being. To have to dig deep to find her identity in something greater than what her society deemed appropriate for women. Her faith was not perfect, and at times, she doubted. But she knew God and was comforted by the promise that one day, she would get the last laugh because God was on her side. 

This is why I have learned that I have to cling to God's word and His promises when life, people, circumstances seem to make you think that God has forsaken you. Last week was one of those weeks. So I decided to paint. God gave me an image and I attempted to capture it with my elementary painting skills. While painting, I could hear God say, "Remember? Remember what I have spoken. I will do it. I will establish you and your steps. I will plant you. I will make you into a beacon of light for the city. Drown out the voices that tell you differently. Just remain faithful to me. I see and know your desires, and in due time, these will be added to you. But first you must seek me, my kingdom, and my righteousness. In me, you will bear much fruit and the work of your hands will prosper. Wait and one day you will see. But for now, you must trust me."

I'm still sitting with these words. Clinging to His promises isn't easy. Especially when you've experienced much disappointment and broken promises, but this is where God is drawing us into intimacy with Him. Will we trust Him? Will we let Him heal our wounded hearts? Are we willing to suffer through the present waiting for the fulfillment of His promise? 

Nouwen captures it perfectly, "How do we wait for God? We wait with patience. But patience does not mean passivity. Waiting patiently is not like waiting for the bus to come, the rain to stop, or the sun to rise. It is an active waiting in which we live the present moment to the full in order to find there the signs of the One we are waiting for. The Word patience comes from the Latin verb ‘patior’ which means ‘to suffer.’ Waiting patiently is suffering through the present moment, tasting it to the full, and letting the seeds that are sown in the ground on which we stand grow into strong plants. Waiting patiently always means paying attention to what is happening right before our eyes and seeing there the first rays of God’s glorious coming.” (Nouwen, Bread for the Journey, Nov 20). 

So, Lord, strengthen my feeble and wounded faith. May my roots be established deep and be unwavering in the storms of life.  I will continue to wait and hope for the day that I will see. God is enough for today. And His word endures forever. Amen.

In the Face of Failure

I picked up a book this week called, "The Search for Significance" by Robert McGee, on oldie but goodie which talks about the traps we all face in building our sense of self-worth. It seemed like an appropriate place to start after I received the news this week.

As of Monday, I was officially let go from my job, and I am now unemployed.

Without going into all of the details, I will say that this news came as quite a shock and disappointment. But, as I let myself be honest about the last 120 days at my new job, I was also surprised at the relief I felt. I have come to accept that God has something much better for me -- He wouldn't have brought me this far to leave me hanging. But I must say that it was pretty confusing after all that I've been through this past year, the hope of being able to finally settle into a new career, and the fact that I have never been let go from a job before. 

Situations like this really bring to light the messages you believe to be true about your identity and self-worth. When I allowed myself to be honest, I realized that I have a deep-seated belief that at the core of my being, "I am a hard worker." And therefore, because I pride myself in being a hard worker, "I am successful" - I can do anything I set out to accomplish... right? So what happens when you are faced with the reality that you in fact did not succeed, but actually failed (or failed to meet someone else's expectations of you)? What will you believe about yourself? Will you let that experience define who you are? Will you let someone else's opinion of you define who you are?

I have always been praised for what I do and my successes. Yet sometimes I forget that I am a limited being - I am not God. I am not perfect. I am not superhuman. And I shouldn't be shocked when I cannot be all things to all people nor meet every person's expectations of me. 

Will I run from failure or fight compulsively to achieve at the expense of myself and others in order to avoid failure?

I think that I am finally coming to a place in my Christian walk where I am coming to see that "I am not what I do." And I don't have to avoid failure by not taking risks or feel the need to justify all of my mistakes to make myself look better. I may not be perfect. But I am not a failure.

I was not willing to make my work my life (which is what it would have taken to succeed in this role) so I believe that God was really releasing me from this job and has better for me.

Sometimes you don't know what is in your heart, until it has been tested. And I would say that in the midst of disappointing circumstances, I am encouraged that my faith has endured, my identity is secure, and God's promises still remain true.

Sometimes failing is our greatest teacher. It brings us to our knees and reminds us that He is God and we are not. So in the face of failure, "I lift my eyes to the hills, for where comes my help? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth" (Psalm 121).

Story Time: Spiritual Partners

One of my biggest prayers over the last few weeks has been that God would provide spiritual partners in our neighborhood who could partner with us for the sake of showing Christ's love on our block. This block needs a lot of love. Some of our neighbors have given us a little glimpse into the history of this neighborhood and even our home, and they insist that this neighborhood is SO much better than what it was 20-30 years ago. Part of why I believe this is true is because of prayer warriors like our neighbor, Diane.

We met Diane through a mutual friend who is on staff at a church in Long Beach. When we told our mutual friend where we were moving, she quickly told us, "You have to meet Diane. She is an incredible woman who loves Jesus and has been in that neighborhood for over 25 years."

Shortly after, our paths finally crossed as Diane was walking her dog, Sassy. She had a huge smile on her face -- I will never forget it. We chatted. Hugged. And immediately I knew -- this woman was special.

In the coming weeks, we invited Diane to our home for lunch where we shared stories and good food. In such a short amount of time, I felt like this woman was a kindred spirit -- someone I've known for years. Her love for the Lord was so evident in the ways she spoke about her story and her commitment to praying for and loving her neighbors. She has been invested for 25 years and is growing weary. A recent widow, she revealed ways that she too had been praying for spiritual partners within this community and believed that we were that answer.

Knowing that someone like Diane has been praying for you long before you ever considered moving in the neighborhood is pretty incredible. She has prayed over our home as we have had many tenants in and out of this home -- some involved in very dark and shady things. She even snuck in while it was temporarily tenant-less and anointed our home with oil -- including our basement. Seriously? This is God.

And now we are here. Building on the foundations that have already been built by people like Diane -- fighting spiritual strongholds through prayer, building relationships in an environment of distrust, and exhorting neighbors to love the land and show each other respect. She has given me such a great model of incarnational ministry at its best.

Just last week, Diane invited all of us over to her place -- the gift of reciprocity. She spoiled us rotten with a delicious spread of hors d'oeuvres, wine, gourmet dinner and dessert. We lingered for hours in her backyard -- which is a peaceful haven in the midst of the noise of this city. At the end of our time, we prayed for each other, blessed each other, and parted ways.

We are hopeful that this is just the beginning of a beautiful relationship and partnership. This is just one of many confirmations that we are supposed to be here.

Story Time: Being a Neighbor

What does it mean to be a neighbor? To love your neighbor as yourself? To seek out their welfare? These are the questions that we are seeking to live into the answer day-by-day in our new neighborhood.

After our huge Housewarming party, we were left with dozens and dozens of cookies and desserts. In an attempt to bless our neighbors, I put together some plates of cookies to bring over to our neighbors whom we've already established some sort of connection.

My first stop was at our neighbor's house -- Lucy. We met Lucy at our Yard Sale -- she has lived in the neighborhood for 40 years and is a veteran in this community. She is from Mexico originally, a school teacher, and a lovely woman. She is a wealth of knowledge in regards to the community and just a warm soul. As I knocked on her door, I was greeted by numerous family members and her roommate. Lucy greeted me with a big hug. I feel drawn towards Lucy -- so interested in hearing her story. She is a beacon of light in this community and quickly becoming an ally and friend. 

My second stop was at our Cambodian neighbor's apartment. She doesn't speak much English so our interactions were short. But she has made connections with my roommates who are Cambodian so she knows who we are. I dropped off the cookies and despite the language barrier, I was grateful for the connection.

Finally, I ran into Adamaris, an 8-year old Guatemalan little girl who lives behind us. She was walking her dog, Snoopy. I always see her and her family doing yard sales every weekend, so I decided to re-introduce myself. As I chatted with her, I asked her if she would introduce me to her family as I wanted to pass on some cookies. She was very friendly and brought me to her house. There I met her grandma Elvia and her high school brother, Walfred. They were very sweet, and in our short interaction, I knew that this was going to be a family where continued relationship would happen. They moved here from the Westside of Long Beach and the boy went to the same middle school where my church is now located -- Stephen's Middle. I left them the cookies, and went home. 

Later that evening, I found a note on our doorstep from Adamaris... it was identical to the note I left her earlier. She had also left me some cookies. I was so floored to receive this gift from her. It is one thing to give. But it is just as powerful to receive from your neighbors. It was such a great reminder that my neighbors have just as much to offer me in this season as I have to offer them. What a privilege to love and be loved in this community. I am hopeful that this is just the beginning of new and fruitful relationships with my neighbors. God has so much more in store than I can imagine. I hope to partner with Him in His work on our block. He's doing something....

"Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving.  At the same time, pray also for us, that God may open to us a door for the word, to declare the mystery of Christ, on account of which I am in prison— that I may make it clear, which is how I ought to speak. Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person." Colossians 4:2-6

Story Time: Facing Fears

In the first month of my transition to my new neighborhood, I was quickly confronted by my fears. You don't always realize how tightly you are holding on to your life and things until they are threatened.

I was hanging out at home one Friday night by myself, watching a movie in the TV room. I had only been living here for about a week when I was first confronted by my fears. Earlier that day, we had a yard sale where a neighbor shared with us some crazy stories and history about this house and the neighborhood. While these thoughts were ruminating in my mind, I suddenly heard a sound outside our den (converted garage) which sounded like spray paint. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that someone must have been graffiti-ing outside on our garage. I didn't know what graffiti-ing meant -- was this a threat -- we're new to the neighborhood -- are we being targeted -- were the first thoughts that came to mind. Fear crept in. I froze, didn't know what to do. My roommate finally was able to talk me down on the phone and I decided to not call the cops. All I could do to calm me down was take a shower, pray the blood of Jesus over our home, and then put myself to sleep with a noise maker to block out any outside sounds. I was so surprised at myself and my response. My self talk -- come on Michelle, it's just spray paint. No big deal. Calm down. Feeling inadequate, insecure, unsure of how to navigate these new surroundings -- confronted with the reality that I must hold loosely my stuff and my life -- God is my only security and the protector of my life, and that is enough. The Lord gave me peace that night, but this was the beginning of looking at my fears square in the face. Who and what voices was I going to give power to? The next day, we checked our garage -- no graffiti.

Almost three weeks ago, I had decided to come home for a quick visit to make some dinner before doing some other errands. It was 6:30pm and still light outside. As I was in the kitchen, I heard 2 loud knocks on the door. As I finished washing my hands, I made my way to the door to see through the glass a shorter Latino male in his young 20s. He was turning around to walk away as I rounded the corner, so I was pretty sure he didn't see me. I didn't know him and was by myself, so I decided to not answer it. As I headed back to the kitchen, something in my gut just felt like something wasn't right. So, I began to make sure all the windows were secure in the house. I made my way through the kitchen, the living room, looked outside the front room curtains and closed them, went to my bedroom at the front of the house and did the same thing. Just then, I heard a loud crash which sounded like a window shattering. I looked outside my bedroom window to the backyard and saw 2 Latino males jumping over our fence escaping. I couldn't believe what I was witnessing. I wasn't sure if there were others that got in... So I called the cops right away and they were at the house in 30 seconds (literally). We walked through the house to see that no damage had been done. What I heard was a crate breaking -- the one that they used to prop themselves over the fence. I saw them and they saw me (probably from a lookout) before any damage had been done. The cop had told us that there had been a burglary about 2 blocks away earlier that week and that it would be wise to get a security alarm since we had one of the nicer homes on the block.

I realized that I had a choice. I could go into fix-it mode and do everything within my power to make sure we were "safe" and "secure." I could go into retaliation mode and figure out a way to fight back if this happened again. I could become powerless -- filled with anxiety and fear -- and allow it to cripple me from actually living my life. Or I could pray. 

This time I chose to pray first. My roommate and I grabbed some oil on our shelf and began to pray over and anoint every door frame and window in our home claiming the blood of Jesus over our home. There was something so empowering and liberating in doing this. He who is in us IS greater than he who is in the world. We have authority in Jesus' name. We do not have to live in fear -- for God holds our lives and promises us that He will be with us.

Eventually, we decided to get a security alarm and have made some security measures to make sure that we are being smart. But, overall, I am believing that God was with me -- allowed me to be home at that moment -- for if I decided to not come home that day, our house would have been robbed and we would have been dealing with a very different set of issues. God was gracious and in His mercy protected me and our stuff. It also makes me come back and reclaim this sense of calling to the city -- I chose this. I said yes to God to live incarnationally in this community knowing full well that this was coming with a cost. I am trusting that this is where God has me. In it, I am being transformed and my faith deepened.

Since our prayer time that night, I feel at peace. I don't feel the same anxiety that I experienced my first couple weeks. It is a sobering reality to wrestle with the preservation of our lives and stuff -- but it has been a good place for me to be. It keeps me longing for the kingdom, and helps me to recognize where my true security lies -- solely in Christ and His salvation. I have nothing to fear.

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Psalm 91: My Refuge and My Fortress

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

 I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,

my God, in whom I trust.”

 For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler

and from the deadly pestilence.

 He will cover you with his pinions,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.

 You will not fear the terror of the night,

nor the arrow that flies by day,

 nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,

nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.

 A thousand may fall at your side,

ten thousand at your right hand,

but it will not come near you.

 You will only look with your eyes

and see the recompense of the wicked.

 Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—

the Most High, who is my refuge—

 no evil shall be allowed to befall you,

no plague come near your tent.

 For he will command his angels concerning you

to guard you in all your ways.

 On their hands they will bear you up,

lest you strike your foot against a stone.

 You will tread on the lion and the adder;

the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot.

 “Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;

I will protect him, because he knows my name.

 When he calls to me, I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble;

I will rescue him and honor him.

 With long life I will satisfy him

and show him my salvation.”

Snapshots of June

TODAY MARKS WEEK 6 AT MY NEW HOME.

June was a whirlwind of moving in -- settling -- celebrations -- parties -- and adjusting to my new surroundings. In these short 6 weeks...

I hosted a Cocktail party in celebration of family being in town...

Had a Yard Sale and got connected to some of our neighbors... 

We hosted a Garden Party where we completely re-hauled our backyard -- 

tilled the soil, planted sod, herbs, and flowers;

 

Hosted a Housewarming Party with over 100 guests; 

and have been getting to know 3 awesome roommates from 

completely different church, family, neighborhood and ethnic backgrounds.

For those who have had the pleasure of coming to our place already, you can see what a gift this house and my roommates are. I don't even have words to describe how grateful I am.

June has come and gone and I'm still recuperating from it all...