Concrete Cross

Godzilla

2006-12-06T02:14:00.000-07:00

After tutoring last week on of the kids came running up to me.

A.B...A.B.!" Juan was out of breath but cut to the chase, "If you take the word Godzilla..."

"Yes?" I prompted, wondering what kind of adventure I was about to go on.

"If you take the word Godzilla and take off the "zilla' -- you have GOD!"

"Indeed you do." I said, trying to keep a straight face. "And what do you think that means?"

"I just don't know." Juan said sincerely, shaking his head.

Juan was so earnest in his discovery and near certain that he had made some sort of bold spiritual discovery.

So after a moment of taking in his wide-eyed wonder I replied, "Yes, I think that's because God is strong - stronger than Godzilla even. Maybe God made that monster name that way so that we would always remember His power."

Juan nodded and seemed confident in this truth. And just maybe, God did it that way.

"God is so powerful," I continued, "Nothing is stronger than God. He is the biggest and the best."

And Juan nodded.

The Good Samaritan

2006-11-25T02:30:00.000-07:00

The kids acted out the Parable of the Good Samaritan - click any picture for a larger image.

Animals?

2006-11-19T20:15:00.000-07:00

At tutoring each of the kids has a journal that they write in. Every week I take the stack of notebooks home and write back to each child. It is one of the best parts of my week. I love what has been born of this simple correspondence. Some kids write detailed versions of their days at school, others ask for advice and some just draw me simple pictures of monsters and man-eating sharks. One week I asked them to tell me what animal they would be if they could be any animal in the world. These answers will speak for themselves on why there is a smile on my face!

A spinosaurus! Wow - big word for a little guy!

As you can see - I have boys!

Feed

2006-11-14T04:44:00.001-07:00

Jesus kept telling Peter, "Feed my lambs. Feed my lambs. Feed my lambs." Now I know that this ancient seaside conversation between a risen Savior and an anxious disciple wasn't referring directly to chicken nuggets and fruit cocktail. It was a call to to nurture and love the people of God. It was, in a sense, the great commission. But perhaps - so is feeding chicken nuggets and fruit cocktail to a huddle of kids. God makes possible the mending of torn bodies, the healing of lost souls and the wholeness of broken beings.

We feed the kids because they are hungry. Families eat together. This is a glimpse into ours.

Joy

2006-10-31T01:08:00.000-07:00

This is life. Pure joy is always against the odds. It's a wonder that we even find it at all. But we do because God is the ultimate enigma. He shines in the darkest places.

Today Adam's and my church (Lone Tree Community Church) came and threw the kids a pumpkin party - if you want a taste, take a look at our slide show (HERE). In the midst of a week peppered with violence, intolerance and stories of another child being assaulted there was this incredible window of pure joy that broke through the trappings of humanity and reflected that awesome face of God. Joy does that. Every time.

Don't pray when it rains if you don't pray when the sun shines.
Satchel Paige

Half

2006-10-24T05:10:00.000-06:00

It all seemed so symbolic. Such a metaphor for life. My life.

My friend was driving me home after we had taken a crew of kids and set them loose among the rows and rows of books in the public library. We were talking about the mundane and I was absentmindedly letting my eyes wander as we passed dark street corners and city alleys.

"Wait -" I spoke with purpose, "Someone was lying in the middle of that alley. I think - maybe it was just a big piece of trash of something. Can we go back?"

Here in the neighborhood there are always people sleeping, living and often dying in the cracks and crevices of the urban structure. I see it daily. But this time it gave me a start. I don't know why. Perhaps it was because what I thought might be a man lying in an alley refused to process in my mind as "normal". We carefully backed up and turned into the alley.

It was a man - he saw our lights and crawled closer to the edge of the alley. He crawled. And I felt so alone and helpless.

My friend and I volleyed back and forth a few words. Neither of us making much sense. We were just a couple of thirty-something girls - how could we change the world?

"Just drive toward him." I said simply. And I rolled down my window. The man was older but I spoke softly like he was a child, "Here is a burrito. I already ate half of it. I'm sorry..."

He crawled over the few feet to the car and we were all silent.

My heart broke open and I felt like a mother looking at an orphan child. "You - please try to stay close to the wall when you go back to sleep." I didn't want him to get run over by passing cars. He smiled back and told me he had his special place where he slept.

We pulled away and my friend Anna prayed.

And that was it. Anna and Amy Beth didn't save the world. We both realized that for the grace of God the man sleeping in the middle of an alley could be us. But why did we get the grace and why didn't he?

And the symbolic part? Well, that's the half burrito. The world is pitching its way to disaster and all I've got to offer is a half eaten dinner. It feels so true to life. My best efforts are measly at best. I try but my heart is stifled by sin, plain old human inabilities and circumstances.

But somehow - we must believe that the God who took 5 loaves and 2 little fish, broke them and fed 5000 thousand can take take my leftovers and sustain humanity. He is God after all.

Nothing is my hands I bring...simply to Thy cross I cling.

Very Powerful

2006-07-04T02:49:00.000-06:00

For our Wednesday summer club teaching poses some challenges. If I use pictures or the flannel board my blind boy wiggles around - bored; and if I tell a story my kids from Mexico struggle for the meaning. I carefully choose my words and try to keep things simple.

A couple weeks ago we were learning about Moses and the Burning Bush. I was somewhat flustered with how to communicate this amazing, inexplicable show of Divine power. But it was one of my young boys who named it for me as I was asking questions after the lesson. He said, "A.B...it's God-Fire. Very powerful. God spoke to Moses through God-Fire."

God-Fire. Kind of packs a punch doesn't it? What do we have to fear with God-Fire on our side?

Tradition

2006-06-29T04:02:00.000-06:00

I'm often so overcome with wonder - I sit with the kids and just try to take in all the ways God moves in their tender hearts. It leaves me speechless. Today we talked about the final plague of Egypt and the Passover. Having a roomful of Spanish speakers and a boy who is totally blind - teaching lessons can be a challenge. So we did a simple "Seder" dinner. Hopefully the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob will let it slide that I used beef jerky instead of a shank bone. Nothing like watching a group of squirmy kids who live in the good ol' US in 2006, born in Mexico and speaking Spanish all learning Jewish customs established some 4000 years ago. But it worked.

God's word is timeless. His blood still covers the price.

L.A.R.K.

2006-06-26T01:11:00.000-06:00

Years ago we had a list of rules called "Cool things to Do at Club" - but it was so full of catchy words and creativity that it lost a bit in translation. The kid's at our Bible Clubs never really got the gist of it. So now we keep it simple with "L.A.R.K."

L- Listening
A- Attitude
R- Respect
K - Kindness

At the beginning of each club we repeat the rules out loud and when someone is acting out we often refer back to these simple four guidelines. I've said them so many times that I hardly think about what they mean. When I do think about our rules it's always in the context of the expectations we have for the kids and never my own actions.

But last week those four simple words kept tumbling through my mind and it left me to wonder about my own life. Do I really listen to people? When James begins another 10 minute description of rats and tornadoes do I stop and look into his eyes? When I'm tired does my attitude reflect the God to whom I belong - or does is just mirror back pessimism and a short fuse? Do I respect the people around me - do I treat them like they are made in God's image? And kindness - when a parent's apathy and ignorance dynamically mark the life of one of our children are my actions wrapped in truth and kindness? Do I react out of love? Does my anger motivate me towards a path of change or does it simply smolder into bitterness?

Geesh - I have a long way to go to live up to the God who made me. So my prayers have found a few new requests - God teach me to listen, mold my attitude into a reflection of your grace, teach me to love and respect all who you have created and let kindness pave my way.

The Wisdom of Inconvenience

2006-06-21T02:30:00.000-06:00

We have a lot of older boys who want to come to club. They just don't have anything else to do. I wish we had a hoop or a bunch of male volunteers to meet their needs. But we don't. So they run around causing chaos - like boys do! To calm things down a bit I was trying to split them into groups and separate the combinations that were the most disruptive.

I had the boys all divided up and Michelle (one of our volunteers) spoke up, "I know it's hard - but they want to be in the same group. I think you should let them." I asked her why and very simply she replied, "Because it's all they have." And Michelle is right. Sure it's a little crazy for us - but a little noise and inconvenience is well worth the fact that we're keeping intact the "family" that these boys create for themselves. These "brothers of the street" watch out for each other, keep one another in line and provide a sort of love and loyalty that's often missing at home.

It's all they have.

Heritage

2006-06-18T03:22:00.000-06:00

It seems a bit self-serving and well - human. But I want some of me to rub off on my kids - it would bring me great joy for them to step into the adult world loving big dogs, boasting a bit of a knack for singing, a taste for jambalaya and smoked sausage, and insisting that life be more of a comedy/adventure than a drama.

Of course hopes for a true heritage run much deeper - I pray that my kids will build their hearts on truth that has the power to transform brokenness, faith the size of a mustard seed that can explode into a mountain of dauntless belief, love that in its human imperfection gives a glimpse into God's perfect love.

Wanting a kid to love Batman because you do is certainly more common and mundane - but it's how we leave a legacy. Whether though the lessons we, by the grace of God, try to instill in young hearts or in the simple fact that I make sure my kids have the chance to play with a bucket of legos. It's what we leave behind.

Fried Rice

2006-06-14T01:14:00.000-06:00

Jesus fed the masses. I imagine is was a pretty clean cut deal. The blessing was raised, bread broke and the miracle of multiplication ensued. But around here it's kind of messy.

But I suppose our common ground with the Miracle Man is the hunger that surrounds us. Spiritual, emotional and if you've around our church basement on Wednesday evenings you'll see a serving of physical hunger - the kids eat and eat and eat.

And as we're throwing stir fry on paper plates and sloshing water into plastic cups I hope that the Miracle Man sees that we're trying our hardest to be like Him.

Eyeliner

2006-06-11T02:51:00.000-06:00

We were working our way around the neighborhood - checking in with families. The hope is to build relationships and trust. As the sun began to shift lower into the sky we stopped to visit a family that we've been in contact with for nearly 15 years. Several families live in this small brick home (although they are all related some way or another). Those old walls have witnessed death, sexual assault, violence and extreme poverty. We sat on the porch and I began to talk to Jazmin - who is 16. Not too long ago Jazmin used to come to Bible club. She was a good kid - pretty solid head on her shoulders. I carried most of the conversation because Jazmin was bound and determined to get her eye makeup perfect. She replied to my questions with short, but sincere answer as she painstakingly applied thick black lines around her eyes. She was being the epitome of a teenage girl. And it would have made me smile...

But it didn't. Because Jazmin is a mom. Her young daughter was running around barefoot among the broken glass and other trash - but Jazmin didn't even notice. All she wanted was makeup that didn't smudge. She had just moved back home with her mom and her sister's family (her sister is 31 and has four kids - the oldest is turning 15 this summer). Jazmin came home because her boyfriend wouldn't quit hitting her. All while her young daughter watched.

I know Jazmin with go back to him and I know that the odds of her little girl doing the same thing in a decade and a half are fairly solid.

I just wish all she had to worry about was eyeliner.

End of School Year Pics

2006-06-06T02:58:00.000-06:00

Here are our some group pics of our two Street Churches - it's only been a few weeks since we ended and I miss having coffee with my crew on Thursday nights! We're starting summer club (better known as Star Camp) on Wednesday! Can't wait...

Leadville

2006-06-04T20:28:00.000-06:00

Adam, Jack and I headed up to the hills to escape the heat. Here are some camping pictures for those interested in seeing a lot of shots of a wet dog! On our photo-site the slideshow is a nice little feature if you want to try it.

Stronger

2006-05-30T14:33:00.000-06:00

Picture taken during the prayer time we have after every club and tutoring session.

"Don't pray for lighter burdens, but for stronger backs." - Annonymous

Magnificent

2006-05-28T02:23:00.000-06:00

Somewhere between 10 and 20 years old we are at risk of forgetting how to see - we can easily become satisfied with just looking. I love how kids can take a simple moment and elevate it to a level of pure joy.

At our end of the year Tutoring Party I was shooting whipped cream into my dogs mouth - arching a stream of sugary cream through the air as my wise pup opened his jaws at just the right time. The kids were delighted. In there eyes I was simply magnificent.

Look at the wonder in their eyes. They know how to see...

My Brother

2006-05-26T00:07:00.000-06:00

Around here when it comes to family - kids create their own or strengthen what little they have. During the week you'll see two of my boys hanging around at the church. I met there mom on the street one night - she was black and blue after a beating from the boy's dad. She begged me, a total stranger, to take her boys to church. So we did.

And as the months have turned into years I have been witness to a loyalty between these brothers that warms my heart and challenges my character.

The boys were skateboarding for us in the church parking lot - showing off for me and a handful of college volunteers who love them deeply.

"Hey! Hey! Watch - I can ollie my brother!" Eddie yelled across the blacktop.

I bit my lip and help my breath and Eddie successfully jumped over his little brother's body. Ernie lay in the middle of the parking lot with absolute trust.

Eddie wanted to show us that he could even jump farther and I was afraid he was going to offer to ollie over me - but he seemed satisfied to line up our playground cones and race across the parking and come flying past on his skateboard - trying to get enough air to clear the cones. As we sat and watched he would add cones - one at a time - and try again. Soon he had quite a line of cones lined up along the blacktop. He turned his back and began to walk to his starting point. And though Eddie didn't see it, Ernie ran to the cones and pushed them all a bit closer together.

Ernie wanted his brother to succeed.

And I sat there utterly taken by the love I saw. Family - around here we call it "familia". For all that's broken in our neighborhood there are still so many moments that shine.

God bless you boys...

The Crash of '06

2006-05-25T23:48:00.000-06:00

Forgive my long absence - my computer had a total crash and I've spent the best part of the past three weeks rebuilding files and programs.

Now we're back on track!

Read on...

Holy

2006-05-06T04:56:00.000-06:00

Everyone’s been telling me to read this new Christian book. It’s the testimony of a young man’s conversion from “religion to spirituality”. I’ve heard raves about how this thin paperback is bringing the heart of Christ back to the church, so I sat down and began to read.

And I was so confused.

The author’s language was crass and cavalier. God was always described in terms of the author’s journey – as if Jesus was a sort of passive follower. The supporting role. The book offered an enlightened view where God always fits the moment and meshes just fine with modern morality. The “open minded” seeker arrives when adopting a sort of Sunday psychology instead of “archaic humble worship”. The author raved about following his own path and made sarcastic jabs at the church. The Gospel was seemingly absent.

And my confusion only grew because the writing was engaging. It was colloquial and fun and I’m sure I would have loved the book if it weren’t for one thing – it was a book about God. And the way the author described Him I started to picture God as the kind of friend who cheers from the sidelines and then pats your back after the race. Like a coach who’s all about positive self image. It made me think of my childhood desire for an invisible friend who would eat all my zucchini but would never ask for my ice cream.

Then my confusion faded into something I’m much more familiar with – fear. It actually scares me to think that people are lapping this up and stamping their hearts with what really boils down to idolatry. And beyond that I know that my sinful heart would crash through the hands of a god so contrived and balanced. There would be no solution to the real problems of my selfishness and pride. The book brushed over sin with antidotal references to teenage pranks – written to make the reader smile. But sin’s not funny.

God is Holy. The journey is about Him, not me. He’s the I AM – hence, I’m the I am not. But postmodern spirituality turns truth on its head and pares God down to someone so human, something so fair and benign (a bit mysterious, but still benign). How quickly we forget that God put a death sentence on the seed of his promise – twice (Isaac and Jesus). If we reduce God to the conversational we have nothing more than folklore.

Our relationship with God is sacred not cozy. Jesus bridged the gap between heaven and earth when He gave His life – but He did not destroy it. He is still God and we are still humans mired in our brokenness. The promise was redemption – not equality. It’s tempting to snuggle up with spiritually and forget the intensity of Righteousness. Who wants to admit our inability to please God?

If you think I sound a bit legalistic let me assure you that I’m sold out on the truth of grace and my life has been transformed by mercy. God chose not only to create us, but He molded the promise to redeem us and opened His heart to love us with a passion both fierce and good. But we must remember that we were made in His image – not the other way around.

As I read the authors well crafted words I actually felt lonely. I long for something so much more than a God who fits in the vernacular of a world too enlightened and sophisticated for a Savior. And the crux of all this paring down of God? The crux is that when we run from Holiness the farther we fall from what’s at the very heart of God being set apart and divine – intimacy.

And isn’t that relationship what we desire more than anything?

Just a thought.

Shadows

2006-05-01T02:30:00.000-06:00

Generally I just leave my camera out during club - the volunteers pick it up to take a few shots and our older girls love to take pics of themselves. As I was downloading the memory card I found this amazing picture (taken by Emmy I believe). It struck me as so symbolic.

Sometimes we feel so alone with the shadows of our fears and the unknown looming over us. Everything seems so distorted and ominous. So this is a glimpse - but God knows the big pictures. There are no shadows for Divine Eyes. No unknowns or even mysteries. Just the I Am and those Everlasting Arms.

Dead or Alive

2006-04-26T22:58:00.000-06:00

We were in the middle of sharing prayer requests and Rosa raised her hand, waiting patiently for me to call on her. Each week the kids have a chance to talk about things in their lives that are bothering them or that they need help with. I had just wrapped up a lesson on Jesus' resurrection and had coaxed the kids into a "sort of" circle for our prayer time.

"What's your prayer request Rosa?

"I would like to pray for God..."

For a moment I didn't know how to respond, "Um - okay Rosa, what would you like to pray for Him for?"

"Well, he's dead." Rosa's reply was simple.

I smiled, partly because the whole lesson had been on the very opposite and also because I understood how mind numbing having a God with three names can be, "Thanks Rosa for your prayer request. You know, God is alive. It's kind of confusing because we talk about God and we talk about Jesus - Jesus is God's son and he died and came back to life. But Jesus is God."

"What? They're the same person??" Tony called out, "What are you saying A.B.?"

And so it went - trying to explain the Trinity to a basement full of curious hearts. Finally I told the kids that there are just some mysteries that belong to God and God alone. They seemed satisfied for the moment.

I still have a little chuckle when I think of teaching an entire lesson solely on the resurrection and having a kid ask us to pray for God because he's dead. Keeps me humble. But eventually my smile turns to genuine gratefulness because the crux of those few minutes at the church is that Rosa went home with her prayer request answered - even if she didn't understand it. God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit are alive, well and on the Throne. I don't understand the mystery of Jesus who was all God and all man - at the same time, but no matter because I do believe it. And just as we trust God with what we know, how much more should we trust Him with what we don't?

God Breaks

2006-04-19T04:13:00.000-06:00

We have a bit of a language barrier from time to time and I could see it in the kid's eyes as we were talking about Easter. I watched a little boy named Kenny fidgeting in his chair and I wondered if this native Spanish speaker had any idea what I was saying. He's been learning English in school and is doing amazingly well - but when you throw words like sin, resurrection and crucifixion in the mix, even I can get confused. As these thoughts were going through my head Kenny seemed to be losing the battle with sitting still and suddenly he began to yell.

"Who broke him?"

"What?" I asked, having no clue what he was talking about. "Who broke who?"

"Who broke him!!" he raised his voice.

It took me a second before I understood - I was amazed at the picture Kenny's simple question painted, "We broke him Kenny. Jesus chose to die to pay the price for all the bad things we've done and the painful things that people have done to us. It was us Kenny - we broke him."

All this time, I thought Kenny didn't understand - but perhaps he saw things clearer than I ever had. We broke Him. Not because of our strength or smarts but because Jesus chose to be broken. He gave His life and sinful humanity feasted like fools - little knowing that our act of hate was in fact the opening lines in God's dialogue of redemption.

In fact, it is in the very breaking of God that our wounded hearts find mending. Easter is more than a story, it is the story. God breaks and we are made whole.

Kenny understands.

Through the Roof

2006-04-12T21:04:00.000-06:00

I just finished building a Lego replica of "The Healing of the Paralytic". Later today I'm telling the kids this story and hoping to teach them a little about faith. I have all my little Lego minifigures hovering around a yellow house with a black tile roof. Inside is Jesus (actually it’s Han Solo – but it will work) and more people sitting on Lego stools.

A broken man with four friends. They wanted him well - so they carried him to Jesus. When they couldn't get through the crowd they climbed the wall. They made an opening in the roof and then dug though the mortar and tiles until their was enough room to lower their friend down. Amazing.

There are miracles popping out all over this story. Jesus made the lame man to walk and he forgave his sins – and the sins of his faithful friends. Why? Because He's God.

But my favorite miracle isn't the one that's the stuff of epic stories and headlines – it was the miracle of the four men whose faith in the healer and love for the broken moved them to dig through a tile roof for a chance to see their friend walk.

It is a miracle because in a world of destruction, chaos and cold evil we still see sparks and reflections of the God who created us – in His image. Those men were doing nothing less than claiming their heritage. In expecting a miracle? No. Their heritage was in loving their brother.

And as I read over the words of Jesus it's clear that it was the friend's faith that led to healing and forgiveness. And I'm left with this incredible image of skinned knees and dirty fingernails. Am I digging deep, covered with mud and thatch – scrambling up walls and carrying the broken?

Or am I just calmly waiting in line at the door…

Blue Water

2006-04-12T04:27:00.000-06:00

Life is a bit quirky. We have things that make our church unusual, homey and – well, unique. Namely, it's Jack. My wild nine-year-old golden retriever who barks too much, knocks over every trash can and is an expert at stealing the kid's food.

But as one of 15 year old girls say, "A.B. we do love Jack …deep, deep, deep deep, deep down."

Several months ago the custodian started putting those blue tablets in the toilet tanks to keep everything disinfected and fresh. Little did he know that he had just desecrated the drinking bowl of my dog.

So every day that we come in, I race down the stairs in a dead heat with Jack, trying get to the bathroom to close the lids before he gets a taste. The kids know the drill too and my volunteers (especially Lindsey) are very helpful in the quest to keep Jack away from the “blue water.”

But still – he sometimes manages to get his snout in there and fill his big belly with that cool blue delight. I suppose most dogs would just up and fall over from chemical poisoning. But not Jack, blue water just makes him uncontrollably wild. I mean – so wild that I have to lie on top of him to get him to quit rampaging the basement.

So I had gone home after a “blue water night” and was relaying my woes to Adam.

"What am I going to do? I can’t keep him away from it and he goes crazy."

Adam closed his eyes and nodded. Then he looked at Jack and proceed with this off the cuff rhyme, "Jackie – if the water is blue, it's not for you."

I nearly choked on a glass of water I was working on.

Then thoughtfully Adam continued, "What a second – dogs are colorblind. Let me try again. Jack, if the water is gray – stay away!"

Now you know why I go to bed every night with a smile on my face…