Hanging my Harp in the Willow Tree.

“When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongues with shouts of joy; then they said among the nations, ‘The LORD has done great things for them.’ The LORD has done great things for us; we are glad. “Psalm 126: 1-3

This psalm I understand. It spoke straight to my heart.  The Israelites were returning to the Promise Land.  They had been delivered from their enemies.  Again.  Their deliverance happened so quickly that they barely had time to register that they were free.  Surely they thought, “This must be a dream!” As they slowly began to realize the truth their mouths were filled with laughter and their tongues with shouts of Joy.  I can hear the celebrating in my mind.  Psalm 137: 1-3 also talks about the time of Babylon captivity “By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion.  On the willows there we hung up our lyres.  For there our captors required of us songs, and our tormentors, mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!

Nothing would be more crushing to my soul than if somebody not only took music from me but made me sing my music out of spite and ridicule. Music of my country, my heritage, and my family made a complete mockery of.  It infuriates me when I see other countries mocking “The Star-Spangled Banner”.  It also makes me angry when people try to improve or sing their own version of the National Anthem.  No, the National Anthem cannot be improved. It is perfect the way it is.  The Song of our country is beautiful and it can’t be improved. 

What if we woke up tomorrow and it was gone. What if it became illegal to sing the songs of our country?  “The National Anthem”, “America the Beautiful”, “God Bless the USA”, and “My Country Tis of Thee” were all banned from our mouths?  This is just a small illustration of what the Israelites must have been experiencing. I can picture the Israelites walking underneath those trees and looking up longingly at those harps.  Their fingers would be itching to play and their voices desperate for a song.  They had to keep walking on by. I just know the day of their freedom a group of them went running to those willow trees and cut those harps down so quickly.  Their music would be filling up the land for the first time in 400 years. Oh what a Glorious Day it must have been! (yes I know this is figurative)

Over the span of my life I have played many instruments and have sung in many choirs.  I picked up the flute in 5^th grade and played my way through college on a flute scholarship.  Music is what brought me through a difficult childhood.  I dove myself into it and let it carry me away.  There are so many people that know exactly what I am talking about.  Music is a powerful thing.  So many times a song has been able to express the words/feelings I could not express myself.  So many times I have been moved to tears by music. Music can make me jump to my feet and dance, or make me calm and reflective.  It can cater to my every mood.  I believe I have more music stuck in my head than anything else. Thousands of songs are there and I can recall them in a second.  Most people can hear a few bars of music and know exactly what television show it belongs to. What would a movie be without music?  What would life be without music?

Every day you can hear me whistling or singing. Much to my husband’s dismay something in our home is always playing music.   Richard’s first indicator that something is bothering me is silence.  Only a few times have I experienced sorrow that was so overpowering, it stifled the music right out of me.  Sorrow so deep that silence was my only desired company.  Times when I hung my harp in the willow tree. 

Seven years ago my life shattered into a million pieces.  For a year and a half I had to rely on the mercy of others just to live.   It was a devastating time for me.  In addition to this shattering of my life I lost two grandparents, deep family skeletons were brought into the light, and a serious relationship in my life had ended abruptly.  I felt the enemy was choking the life out of me.  I spent every day for an entire year praying for deliverance. I felt surrounded and hopeless..  When my deliverance came, my mouth was filled with laughter and my tongue with shouts of joy! The LORD had most definitely done great things for me.  My music had been returned to me and it was more beautiful and precious than ever.

I know no matter what happens in my life I can rest in the promises of God.  The LORD will bind the brokenhearted, will proclaim liberty to the captives, and freedom for the prisoners…and comfort to those who mourn. (Isaiah 61:1-2) We all will experience sorrow. Some of you are experiencing it now.  Your harps are hung so high in those trees you can barely see them and they have been there a long time.  Some of you hung your own harps; while others had theirs ripped from their hands and nailed to that tree.  Sorrow most definitely hurts. Couple it with guilt or betrayal, and that sorrow runs much deeper.  I can give a hundred verses about comfort and sorrow but I am not going to.  All I can assure you is that one day you will stand in the throne room and “He will wipe away every tear from your eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4.  All things will be made new.  This gives us hope for the future.

“And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.” Philippians 4:8

That my dear friends is something excellent. I am praying for you whose hearts are broken and shattered. Whose beauty has been turned to ashes. Those who go to bed weeping and wake up sobbing. Praying you find rest and peace in the presence of Christ.  He is the only one who can turn your mourning into dancing. Who can turn your sorrow into music. He is the only one who can take your harp out of that willow tree. 

In Christ,

Amber

Letter to a Church Planter #3

This is the 3rd installment of "Letters to a Young Planter", the contents came from my journal. The idea I stole from Pastor Calvin Miller's book Letters to a Young Pastor

Dear Young Planter,

You will ask this a million times "What's my church's biggest weakness?" If you don't ask that every once in a while, you are foolish. I guess the answer varies from church to church, but overall I've learned that my answer isn't that hard.I've learned who the greatest weakness in the plant is. It's me!

That's not silly false humility, I believe God has equipped me, just like he has you. You will find (I hope) the greatest ministry work you will participate in is, of course, Prayer!  Planters that don't pray; don't stay (pretty catchy?) It's true. Pastoral work drives you to your knees and planting keeps you there.
I would pray and pray; I would pray for God to move, do powerful things, and he would often answer as only he can, but after reading 1 Peter, I realized I had neglected my greatest gift other than Jesus- my wife. I wasn't an absentee husband, but I could be overly critical and sometimes mean spirited.
 It was not intentional, but it happens.... It also is bad for ministry.

The book of 1st Peter offers admonishment we need. As a planter, you will get to know 1st Peter well, it's a book that gives instruction to a misplaced, misunderstood and marginalized church. Two verses should grip you. They are 1st Peter 3:7 and 1st Peter 4:7.  To summarize, the first one says that you need to love your wife in an understanding way, SO YOUR PRAYERS won't be hindered. The 2nd says we should be self controlled and sober minded FOR THE SAKE OF OUR PRAYERS. Pretty powerful; God cares how we live our lives. Here's a more direct translation.

Translation: all that begging God for resources and people and vision and stuff doesn't matter if you are mean to your wife and don't take personal holiness seriously. Desire for a "touch from God "and spiritual power and vision can be held in check if we don't fight to be sober minded and love our family!  The key to your success may not be your cleverness or "cultural exegesis" (you will learn that term in time), but it will probably be rooted in your integrity of character.

Look around, the pastors that "fall from Grace" are often the most talented and most brilliant. They simply forgot to take their non-public life seriously; this cut off the spiritual lifeline to Christ through prayer and over time they "Died on the Vine".  If you want to last, cultivate character.

Finally,You want to be missional and impactful. Praise God, but you won't do it without prayer and your prayers won't do it if you're greatest gifts: your relationship with God and your beautiful bride aren't first in your life! Learn this lesson now; hopefully God will bless your family and your ministry!

Keep Plowing
Richard

Dear Church Planter, Letter #2

I began a series of blogs that are modified journal entries in the form of letters meant to encourage church planters

Dear Church Planter, 

“I want to do Big Things for God!” That phrase has been exclaimed, echoed and endured in the austere halls of seminaries to the hangout spots of youth ministry centers across the country. We love big things. No one cares about the world’s shortest skyscraper, no fast food joint markets an “efficiently, simple” hamburger; Humans seek superlatives.  Bigger, stronger, faster, and prettier are all adjectives that are seen as synonyms for better. Superlatives aren’t wrong but they aren’t everything. What you will find that church planting from the ground up recalibrates a pastor to enjoy simple blessings that aren’t big.

The goal of a church plant is to establish a growing, healthy, doctrinally sound, mission sending body. That should be the goal of all churches, regardless of age. However, the church planter has the calling to initiate and to lay the foundation for such a church. You and your core group are the ones that have the honor (sometimes toil) of connecting with skeptical people in the community- with atheists that think Catholics are out to lunch and Baptists are from Saturn, friendly neighbors that honestly don’t care about spirituality but think churches that “do good stuff are ok as long as they don’t cram the Bible down my throat”, good folks that have been perpetually wounded by thoughtless Christians and keep you at an arms length, and a whole lot of people that fit in no category, just lost souls that are making it through one day at a time. The church planter gets to show the love of Jesus and slowly change critics minds, slowly is the operative word.

You will pray and plead God for a huge harvest- you should! You want that!! God will put Christians in your path that will lock arms with you. Hopefully, you will see multitudes come to faith, maybe 1,000 at one time- Crusade style,, but in tough, fresh soil- it usually doesn’t work that way. It’s the little blessings you hide in your heart. An agnostic tells you that he read that portion of Mark’s gospel you recommended- WIN. The humanist social worker that has rejected Christianity but is now considering how a Christian worldview gives dignity to the poor, that’s a WIN. A store employee calls you “pastor”, because you are friendly to her and you and your wife gave her cupcakes- WIN.  The above stories happened in our first few weeks in Sioux City; yours will be different, guaranteed! None of these above stories are our goal. We want salvations and church gathering, but we love our neighbor because they are our neighbor, and we will always rejoice in little victories.

In Christ,

Richard

Those Who Sow in Tears

I am not going to lie.  Last week was hard for us.  We have been here six weeks and still do not have a single church member.  Our hearts are heavy and our heads are hanging low.  What are we doing wrong?  Why won’t people come? We saw a glimmer of hope last Sunday. Our neighbor finally accepted our invitation to join us for church.  He was also going to bring his girlfriend.  YES! Progress has been made.  They came into our apartment that morning, and stayed for exactly three minutes.  Then they left. Technically they came and I am counting that.  We still love our neighbor and still minister to him.  One day he will stay much longer. We are being patient. 

Every day we go out and every day we return home empty handed.  We spend our time and resources meeting others.  Resources we do not have an unlimited supply of.  The harvest is ripe and we are so willing to be used by God.  We came here, right?  We sold half of our stuff and moved across the country on faith, right? Where have we gone wrong?  We are desperate to see some fruits of our labor. We are tired of seeing sin destroy the lives of our neighbors, this community, and this city.  We are tired of seeing the hopelessness in their eyes.  We are tired of seeing our neighbor drown his sorrows in alcohol. We are tired.  Rest assured, we have not thrown in the towel.  We are being patient that nothing we have done has been in vain.  We continue our days bathed in prayer and diving into scripture.  We get up every morning and head out the door.  We know that the time of rejoicing is just around the corner.  

“Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy!  He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.” Psalm 126: 5-6

The Lord has led me to memorize the Psalms of Ascent.  I have made it successfully through Psalm 126.  I have read this verse at least forty times since moving to Sioux City. Somehow, I kept missing the significance of it.   One morning I was reading through a devotional book and read the very familiar passages of Luke 8: 5-8, 11-15:

“(5) A sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed, some fell along the path and was trampled underfoot, and the birds of the air devoured it. And some fell on the rock, and as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up with it and choked it. And some fell into good soil and grew and yielded a hundredfold.” As he said these things, he called out, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear….  (11) Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. The ones along the path are those who have heard; then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. And the ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe for a while, and in time of testing fall away.  And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature.  As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience.”

After reading this, I almost fell out of my chair. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest.  I had ears to hear and I most definitely heard.  In that moment I was granted Hope and Peace.  I had a promise. Psalm 126:6 is a promise.  Those who go out with the Word of God with the intention of spreading the Gospel will return home with shouts of joy.  We will return home bringing our sheaves with us.  We are not responsible for the birds, the rocks, the thorns, or the soil.  We are responsible for the seed.  The Word of God.  His word will not return void.  We will see the fruit of our labors.  God is so good.

“and let us know grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up” Galatians 6:9

Dear friends. Do not give up. You will reap.  You can count on it.

In Christ,

Amber

Dear Church Planter, Letter #1

One of my favorite ministerial books is by Calvin Miller; Letters to a Young Pastor is a collection of pastoral essays written in a personal letter form. It’s one of those books I read selections from on a monthly basis. The work has the unique mix of practicality and thoughtfulness. For the next few blog entries, I’m going to use Miller’s format; most of these blogs will be sourced from my personal journal.

Dear Young Planter:

You have read all the books, blogs and even listened to the podcasts. They are good, always be reminded that fresh ideas keep you on “your game.” Please heed this! Understand that you don’t need them. You need the Scriptures, nothing else. I’d be a hypocrite to say extra-biblical writing is wrong to read. I read Dickens; I try to read Shakespeare. I count Luther, Spurgeon and Piper as close friends that I will meet one day. It is doubtful that I would be in the church planting “business” if Jonathan Edwards hadn’t published David Brainerd’s biography and if it hadn’t landed in my hand years ago.

The reason that all of the above writers have had impact in my life (even Dickens!-Christmas Carol?) is because the Scriptures shaped, encouraged and influenced their writing. The same is true of the church planting gurus of today, and tomorrow, and the day after. Gurus come and go, but only the Bible is eternal. Think about it. Planters in new areas have to answer some pretty complex questions.

How do I bridge a culture gap? How do I live as a minority? How do I communicate the Gospel of Jesus to people that think my accent is backwater and weird? Where’s the post office? (Ok, that’s not too complex). These questions are not easily answered; in fact, you may never answer them fully. That’s why you need an eternal source that bridges all cultures, all accents written by one that is King over every village and city to have ever existed.

Keep on plowing,

Richard

A Discontent Wife

We have been here a whole month, and it has not been that bad.  The weather has been absolutely perfect.  It gets chilly at night, and then a nice 75 degrees in the day.  We have yet to turn on the air conditioning or the heat.  The leaves have started changing colors, and it is beautiful.  We spend every waking moment outdoors because we know that in a very short time we will be confined inside for the winter.  This has been a wonderful season for us.  God has been so good. We do not have any additional members for our church yet.  From the inside it appears to be moving pretty slow.  The Lord has allowed us glimpses of progress in order to keep our heads up.  We knew going into this that it would be a very slow process, and we are being patient.  Our main goal everyday is to develop the friendships God has blessed us with. 

Yesterday the three of us sat down and made a list of all the people we have made friendships with.  In one month there is close to 50 names, and the list is still growing.  We pray over these names every single day.  Sometimes I struggle with guilt because my list of names is considerably shorter than Richard and Dusty’s lists.  They spend every day meeting people.  I generally stay back and hold the rope for them. If you know me, this is not something I am good at.  I have always been and desired to be on the front lines. I am a Do-er not a supporter of do-ers!  I have struggled with my role in the church plant.  I have prayed for wisdom and clarity. God has been surprisingly quiet, or so I thought.

I have been trying to balance my role as a wife and a member of the church plant.  I want to be a major part of the plant. My heart longs to do more, and be more involved.  Sometimes I go with Richard and Dusty when they meet people.  Every time I find myself watching the clock and cutting our time short. There are things at home that I have to take care of.  These things are not insignificant. We have people coming over for dinner in an hour, I told a neighbor to stop by at a certain time to come pick up lunch, or there is something at home that I needs to be done before dinner.  I always find myself needing to be at home. Disgruntled and discouraged, most days I let them go without me.  There just has to be more for me than this?

God can be speaking so loudly, but I just do not have ears to hear or eyes to see. It was not until Richard and I met with a local woman, who had a similar struggle to mine, did I hear God's voice.  We were not in the same situation, but our hearts were the same.  We both longed to be used radically by God, but could not see the work he had laid out in front of us.  In our homes. With our neighbors. In our communities. I began to see that my biblical place was next to Richard as his wife.  My ministry is to him first and foremost.  I am not called to be the associate pastor. The call on Richard’s life is completely different than the immediate call on my life. Yes, we are co-laborers. Yes, we do ministry together.   I know it is not popular or well accepted, but my role is to manage the home.  Each wife has a different set of circumstances.  Their "managing the home" may look completely different than my "managing the home." Managing the home does not give me an excuse to not share the gospel.  It is not a free pass to live a sinful or disobedient life.  What does my role in my home, with my neighbors, and in my community end up looking like? I am pretty sure it will take forever to answer that, and once I get it figured out it will change.  

To gain a better understanding of my role, I have been reflecting on my day-to-day/week-to-week activities. I am a very organized person.  One thing that has helped me save time and money is to make a monthly menu.  I plan out all of our meals. I try not to get bent out of shape when we do not eat a planned meal.  Flexibility, right? I usually make a trip to the grocery store once a month.  I buy everything we need with the exception of fruits and vegetables.  Richard knows better than to go into the kitchen for a snack.  He will inevitably eat a meal that has been planned for later in the month, and he will be in trouble. He is banned from the kitchen.  (Mainly because I am a control freak and the kitchen is my area. I’m working on it!)

About two weeks ago, Richard had an old magazine and was thumbing through it. There was an ad featuring a woman in her kitchen with all her appliances. I do not remember what it was advertising. He said that the ad was made during a time where modern appliances were being introduced.  He made a particular point about how the refrigerator was normally associated with extremely wealthy homes.  During the time of the ad the refrigerator was becoming more and more popular. They began to make their way in every kitchen in America. Before this time, people had to go to the grocery store/market every day to buy fresh food. They relied on the market for everyday needs because they could not buy foods in bulk. Particularly foods that needed to be refrigerated.   Meals were planned a day at a time.  As a result, they knew the butcher, the baker, the person who sold them their fruits/vegetables, the milk man, etc.  They literally saw them every single day.  They were a community that lived life with each other.  They relied on each other. 

I began to think about that, and saw some truth to it.  What better way to know my community than to be a part of it every day.  I decided that instead of going to the grocery store once a month I would go once a day. Going to the store everyday will increase the spending in our grocery and gas budget. I will just have to trust God to protect us financially.  I have gone to the grocery store every day for two weeks. Honestly, it is a hassle.  I see something that I will need for tomorrow, but I put it back on the shelf.  I need a reason to come tomorrow.  There are so many other things I could be doing with the time I spend at the grocery store every day.  Yet I still come every day and generally at the same time.  Yesterday time seemed to get away from me.  Before I knew it, it was 6:00pm and I still had not gone to the store.  I was tired, and really just wanted to pick something up at the nearest restaurant.  I went to the store anyway knowing that dinner was going to be late.  I walked in, and began my normal routine through the aisles.  I was deeply engrossed in the selection of enchilada sauces when somebody tapped me on the shoulder.  It was one of the employees that recognized me.  “I just about gave up on you today!  Thought we were not going to see you at all.”  We talked for a few minutes and I continued on my way.  I made my way to the meat department and found another familiar face. We pretty much had the same conversation. I realized in that moment that I knew these people and more importantly they knew me.  I had made it a point to see the same person every day.  The same butcher, baker, and cashier every single day.  Sometimes I wait in line a little longer so I can have the same person.  I checked out with my cashier, Michelle and the bagger handed me my bags and said, “See you tomorrow Amber” They know my name. Wait a minute. THEY KNOW MY NAME!

The drive home I began thinking about the different people I have met.  Another place I go every Saturday is the Sioux City Farmer’s Market.  There are so many vendors that it can get be hard to get to know any of them.  So I have selected four vendors that I buy from.  I will go to each vendor and talk with them, but my focus has been on four tables. Jim is who I buy peppers and Kale from. Kenny is tomatoes. Norman is apples. Lucas is my bread guy. I have gotten so familiar with them that when they are running low on food they will set my share to the side and wait for me. I have been praying over this area, and how to better use my time there.  It is a huge event in the community.  They have music, food, contests, and games.  This week we will be getting there early and eating breakfast there. It does not take long for somebody to pick up on our accents and start talking to us. We plan to make an entire morning out of it. We shall see what happens. 

I have begun to see everything I do in a different light.  My everyday/weekly activities have started to have significance. Every Sunday I get up a little early and we have a fairly decent breakfast.  We eat a very light breakfast during the week so Sunday morning is always a treat for us. We look forward to it every week. Then we sit in our living room and have church.  Complete with the Lord’s Supper.  I thought it would be strange at first but I absolutely love it.  The combination of great fellowship, Worship, learning about God, discussing the sermon, prayer, and the Lord’s Supper has impacted all three of us.  I can’t help but think that this is the way church was meant to be.  We are not rushed, time restricted, stressed, and we can show up in our pjs if we wanted to. Our cat is right there with us curled up in my lap. That’s my kind of church! J  I am not saying this boastfully by any means, but I feel that the breakfast and the time I put into our home has made a huge difference. By the end of every Sunday Service we are revived, refreshed, and thankful.  I am not naïve in thinking that it will always be this way.  Our biggest prayer is that our church would not stay at three members and we would outgrow our living room.  I have no doubt that in the future we will look back at this season with longing.  This time is precious.  We have rejoiced in it.  

God is changing my disgruntled heart.  He is teaching me the value in a wife that manages the home. There are still moments when I feel like I should be doing more but God will give me a soft reminder that I am exactly where I need to be. I am grateful.

“I lift my eyes to the hills, from where does my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1-2

In Christ,

Amber

A Planter's Prayer

I have been reading the 4^th century classic City of God by Augustine of Hippo. It is a voluminous work that is a defense of Christians that have been accused of causing the fall of Rome due to worshipping Jesus instead of the plethora of gods that dominated Roman culture. This book may be the most quoted Christian text with the Bible as the lone exception. In a straightforward quote, Augustine writes the following, “No man can be a good bishop if he loves his title but not his task.” Clearly, Augustine is instructing pastors to be committed to the pastoral office with sincerity and passion. I have modified the quote to a prayer for a fledgling church planter. “Help me love this future church and not the title of ‘church planter’.”

“How exciting!” and similar exclamations from Christians in Sioux City and Desoto County is usually the response to us planting a church. To be sure, it is exciting. The hope that in the future an established, Gospel proclaiming church body with officers and a statement of faith will exist and God will use our core group to make it happen is what drives us to wake up every morning. However, “all that glitters is not gold.” It is heartbreaking, rewarding, painful, exhilarating and even monotonous. We pray for our neighbors; serve them; invite them to bible studies and suppers. Sometimes they are interested, but sometimes they aren’t. Circumstances can be frustrating; one friend of ours, Matt, was a good prospect. He claimed to be a Christian and liked what we were trying to do. God then blessed him with a promotion, but he had to move 3 hours away. On the other hand, there have been successes. I had a 2 hour long conversation with an ardent atheist, who became friends with me and has expressed interest in discussing the philosophy of Jesus; the Holy Spirit showed him flaws in his humanist worldview. We rejoice.

Rejoicing is not an option. We are told to “rejoice always” in Philippians. That text is so poignant to me because ministry success is always a mixed bag. Christ is never a mixed bag. He always encourages, always guides and always provides. Sometimes pursuing the calling of God is not exciting ; sometimes it’s not but it is always worth it.

In Christ, 

Richard

If You Feed Them, They Will Come

How are we going to get all the way to Iowa? What am I going to do once I get there? I had no problem with the first question.  I knew God would provide and oh how He did. We were so unbelievably shocked at how many people the LORD used to bring us here.  We will be sharing the story with our grandchildren for years to come.  The second question I repeatedly asked myself once a day before we moved to Iowa. Now that we are here, I ask myself this same question about three times a day.  What exactly am I suppose to be doing?  I am so unbelievably blessed with a husband that has a vision, a plan, a goal, and a passion for this journey.  I am not saying that I don’t have a passion for the church plant but the planning process has lied entirely at his feet.  The church planting internship has been preparing him for this for the last year.   Several times a week he would come home very excited about a new idea.  He would go into depth about his plans and visions until my eyes started crossing.  My job was to get us here.  Now that my job is over the question is front and center of my mind every single day.  Now what?

When my husband first introduced us to Michael Frost’s B.E.L.L.S. strategy (Be Generous, Eat, Learn Christ, Listen to God and Sent) I was immediately intrigued.  It seems quite simple.  Could this BELLS thing work?  What does it look like? I am a natural server so “Be Generous” and “Eat” should be a piece of cake (you see what I did there?).  Three weeks later I am finding “eat” to be the hardest goal to accomplish each week.  This actually requires me to go out and meet people.  If there is one thing I am not, it is an evangelist.  I am unbelievably shy and keep to myself.  It is something God has been working out of me for several years.  I am usually ok if I know the majority of people in the room.  I have to force myself to talk to people.  Once I get over the initial fear I am so very glad I did.  I have met some wonderful people.  My prayer for the last several months has been God reigning in this area of my life.  

Eat.  The idea is that once a week you share a meal with a non-believer and a believer. (If you have a family it is encouraged that you share at least one meal with your family per week) Those are the only rules with “E”.  It doesn’t matter who, where, or when.  You can combine the two or keep them separate.  The BELLS strategy allows for creativity.  It allows you to work within your skill sets.   I love to cook.  I am no Chef Ramsey let me assure you.  I am basically self-taught and elementary level at most.  I have no idea what half of those gadgets are or how they are used. All my “cooking stuff’ was either a wedding present or was purchased at the Goodwill. Eating meals together as a family (no matter how small) is extremely important to me.  Staying at home has allowed us to do that.  We eat almost every meal at the table together.  It has made a huge difference in our marriage and communication.   We may eat the same ten chicken recipes but we eat them together.  I am grateful for the time we have now because we may not always have it.  God has allowed me to stay at home during this season.  Who knows what tomorrow may bring? 

What am I suppose to be doing? After three weeks of praying over this question and the “BELLS” one thing is obviously clear.  I am already in my kitchen.  Why can’t I invite people here?  Who said that we had to eat in a restaurant or in a coffee shop?  I took the idea and have run with it.  Well I ran about ten feet until I hit a road block.   Inviting believers to our home has not been a problem.  We have been extremely successful in that area.  Part of that success is because we are new in town and believers are curious about who we are and what we are doing.  We get invited to restaurants to discuss our church plant every week.   Richard has lunch once a week with local pastors to discuss Sioux City and each other’s need/prayer requests.  However, I have not had any success in getting non-believers into our home.  My several attempts (I must admit that my approach has not been the best but I am working on it.  Again the shy thing. ) have utterly failed.  I can’t really invite men over for dinner without giving them the wrong idea or having wives/girlfriends question both parties’ motives.  The women have been polite but I could definitely tell they were not interested in coming over either.  Needless to say, I am still trying to figure this one out.  I will not give up though. 

One of our neighbors has an interesting habit of lingering outside our door while I am in the process of cooking something.  He conveniently needs to borrow something during dinner time.  He stops by at least a few nights a week.  It is starting to become a “no-knock-come-right-on-in” type of friendship.  He politely declines when I invite him to eat.  I know he wants to eat a home cooked meal. I know he is tired of frozen burritos and McDonald''s.  He practically drools on the table every time he comes over, but I will not push him.  However,  I have accidentally discovered if I bring him a meal and leave it on his table he will eat it (or give him a ‘to-go’ container.  He calls them 'doggy bowls') You better believe I am counting that towards my "E"! My goal is to bring him something once a week.  Not necessarily an entire meal. Cupcakes will suffice. Patience and baby-steps is the name of this game.  

I am trying to balance blessing people and not offending them with offering food.  I have discovered that people’s pride can be greatly wounded if I suggest that they come over for dinner or bring them a meal.  Some people are just not comfortable taking a handout from a church.  It doesn't matter what my intentions are.  They just do not want anyone suggesting that they cannot provide food for themselves or their families.  I have crossed a line several times and I am learning how to word my suggestions carefully as not to offend.  I need a back-up plan for “E”.  We are only three weeks in to this, and I am going to give myself a learning curve here. I will figure it out.  For now, I am sticking to many wise womens' life motto: If you feed them, they will come. 

Praying for direction and His Will to be done.

If you would like more information about Micheal Frost’s BELLS strategy here is a link to a PDF file that will go into greater detail: The Five Habits to Highly Missional People

In Christ,

Amber

p.s. what exactly does this kitchen thingy do? 

Everyday Missions?

I enjoy apartment life. You have enough space to make your own, and the community owned amenities compound the experience. One less-than-stellar facet of our apartment complex is the fact that our building has to share one washer and dryer. This may seem splendidly spartan to some readers, however, to our many friends on the international field, our privilege is showing. My wife, the problem solver, found us a cheap Laundromat on the edge of our neighborhood, squeezed a few extra dozen quarters from the budget and christened Monday at 9:00 am Laundry Day.

Amber does the laundry; I help. Ok, I get in the way; therefore, I would stay in the apartment and do my daily administrative tasks while she got the laundry done. Well, last week, the plans sort of changed. She asked me to go with her; the laundry load was large, so I was her additional muscle. The Laundromat was a loud, musty image of the 21st Century America. The clientele was Native American, African American and Hispanic. The signage in the facility was in three languages. Even though she was new, Amber had developed a few friendships there, not “super-deep” “besties”, no weepy counseling sessions, but casual friends you make at a Laundromat. I watched as a few rowdy kids said hello to her, a Native American man clearly recognized her.

The owner is a hard working Vietnamese man named Steven , Amber has gotten to know him fairly well, just through conversations at his Laundromat. Today, she told him that we were planting a church in Sioux City and before she could present the Gospel, He shut down, but he was kind. Right now, he isn’t interested, but we will love him. What’s next for our journey with Steven? There’s no perfect solution, no “magic bullet”. We will pray for him and his business; it’s a pretty good Laundromat. One day I hope to speak the Gospel of Light in Love, until that happens, we will be there on Monday mornings with a bunch of quarters and hope for Steven.

In Christ,

Richard

O Martha? Martha? Where art thou Martha?

"As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42 

If you ask Richard to describe me in a few words “A Do-er” will make it to the top of the list. I am much more comfortable serving than learning. I relate to Martha so well. I understand why she gets mad at Mary. While she is in the kitchen preparing everything, Mary is sitting on her butt just staring at a man. There would have been pots banging loudly. There possibly would have been throwing of an apron and spatula at her head to make her get the hint. I believe that once I had the table set, there would not have been a place set for Mary. She would have had to go make her own meal and eat it by herself. She most definitely would have done the dishes all by herself. Nothing sets my temper off more than a person who has been assigned a task/job and they don’t do it. Especially if I am the one who assigned the task and especially if that assigned person is family. I know the point of the story but I can’t help but feel that Martha was justified in her feelings. However wrong they were. If the man had not been Jesus then Martha would have been in the right. Martha! I get you girl! We would have kicked it in the kitchen until the cows come home! 

I always feel like I should be doing something at all times and it drives Richard B-a-n-a-n-a-s. I never understood why it makes Richard so mad when I get up during a movie and start cleaning. He mentions something and I jump up to go grab it, fix it, or accomplish it. Doesn’t he want me to take care of things? At some point in every day Richard will lovingly grab my arms, cups my face with his hands so I will look at him, and tell me to go sit down and not to move again. 

Every week we visit with my mother and grandmother. We sit for hours in her living room and just talk. It’s a wonderful time. Yesterday while we were visiting, I noticed something I had never noticed before. Throughout the entire visit my mother never sat down. She was constantly on the go. Richard mentioned that he enjoys “The Twilight Zone” Mom quickly jumped up and went and got the movie. I mentioned that “Gone Girl” will be showing in theatres soon. She quickly went to her room and brought me the book so I could read it. She was constantly refilling our cups, picking up our plates, getting out cookies, or taking out the trash. She never stopped throughout the entire visit. I found myself repeating the same things over and over because she didn’t hear them the first time. It was exhausting and irritating. She couldn’t stop serving us for five minutes and enjoy our company. We didn’t come there to be served. We came to visit. 

The drive home was filled with us discussing Mom’s behavior. This is Richard’s area of expertise. I have long ago stop trying to understand why people act the way they do. Mom serves because she loves us. We were in her home and she was expressing her love to us. She missed out on spending quality time with us because she was too busy trying to please us with her actions. Quality time that is fleeting and she can never have back. Mom gives us her possessions because she is trying to show us how important we are to her. She would give up her time and possessions in order to serve us. Those are really the only two things she has. Time and Possessions. What she didn’t realize was we didn’t need her possessions or her sacrificed time. We needed fellowship with her. 

Cleaning up after dinner that night I was reflecting on the visit. Why couldn’t mom see it? How would I even approach the subject with her? Another thought kept popping into my head. Richard tells me all the time how much my mother and I are alike. Not just in looks. We do have the same face but our spirits are just alike as well. The same things I struggle with my mother struggles with. I am my mother’s daughter through and through. No matter how much I want to deny it. I am a stubborn, hard-headed, strong willed, animal loving, people loving, and a people serving machine. As I type this my cat is curled up in my lap. How many letters has Mom written to me with a pet in her lap. GAH! I might as well be her clone. 

One thing is certain. We are two Marthas that desperately need to become more like Mary. How much quality time have I missed out on because I was too busy serving? How many times have I only half listened to Richard because I was thinking about a hundred other things that needed to get done. Were they important? Some of them were very important but not more important that giving my husband my undivided attention. The time we have together is fleeting and I have been wasting it running around trying to serve him. What he wants is fellowship. Oh how God opens our eyes. Nothing seems to speak louder to me than when I run into a person who is a reflection of myself. How much time have I wasted only half reading my bible because breakfast needed to be prepared? How many times has distractions overshadowed quality time with the LORD in my life? If distractions are overshadowing my husband then they are definitely overshadowing the LORD.

Jesus said: “Mary has chosen what is better and it will not be taken from her” Mary chose time with the Savior.

This Martha is choosing time and it will not be taken from me either. 

Thank you Lord for opening my eyes. 

My Mother and me.  We are about the same age in this picture.  Me in 2010.  My mother in 1982

At my Wedding in 2010

In Christ, 

Amber

Everyday Shepherd

Time rarely moves slowly anymore. It seems that in our swirling modern world of social media and instantaneous everything, hours tick away and they are gone. That has not proven to be the case for us in our first couple weeks in the Siouxland.  Our days have been full of the same issues that any new family has when moving into a new city. We have had to find the post office, Laundromat, and power company—knowledge of streets and directions sort of come from learning the necessities. During the process of getting settled, all three of us have been able to do the one thing that slows life to a beautiful pace—conversations. Students, barbers, ministry leaders, believers, atheists, agnostics, angry and content have been some of the categories that one could put on our new friends in West Central Iowa. We have been able to learn about our fair city, some of the deep struggles of her citizens and share the gospel with some of them.

The challenge for us is how to make friends from our ever increasing community of relationships. Thankfully, we have seen some imperfect success by utilizing a thoughtful strategy by Michael Frost called BELLS. The acronym (Be Generous, Eat, Learn Christ, Listen to God and Sent) is a summary of the weekly spiritual and personal disciplines we stress in our church and neighbor life.

• Be Generous- We challenge all church members to be tangibly generous to two people, one inside the faith, one person outside the faith

• Eat- Share a meal or coffee with one person outside the faith

• Listen to Christ- Pray/journal intentionally at least once a week about how the Gospel affects your everyday life

• Learn Christ- Read the Bible daily.

• Sent- journal/meditate weekly on what it means to be “sent” to Sioux City

Our prayer is that our church will be full of thoughts, prayers and discussions about new friendships they have developed, principles Jesus has taught them, and fresh, practical ways we can love our community to the glory of God and for the maturing of disciples.

In Christ, 

Richard

Sioux City, IA

We have unpacked the last box.  We are officially moved in and unless a natural disaster happens we will not be moving for a long time.  Every day our tiny little apartment feels more like home.  We will not mention that every nook and cranny has something shoved into it.  Open all closet doors with caution as items may have shifted during the “shoving in” stage.  Sometimes you just have to take a blow to the head for the sake of the Gospel.  

I am starting to learn my way around the city.  Siri has long abandoned me and has led me astray more than once.  She is absolutely no help and I am starting to believe she enjoys flustering me with her insistent “I can’t take any requests right now.” speech.  This has led to hours of aimlessly driving through the city.  I now know the city pretty well and have found some pretty nifty spots.  The biggest surprise was the library.  It is massive.  It has three floors and is just absolutely beautiful.  What is even more surprising is not only the amount of books but the number of homeless people who congregate in it.  Libraries are not the first place that pops into my head when I think of homeless people. This is the first library that I have been to that is located in a downtown area.  It makes sense that the homeless would congregate there.  It is free and warm.

Things we need prayer for:

·        God would raise up people for Redemption Hill

·        God would give us divine appointments with the lost

·        God would nurture and develop the friendships we have already made.

·        God would protect us spiritually, physically, emotionally, and financially

·        God would protect our vehicles

·        God would prepare the hearts of those we will encounter

·        Pray for our neighbors.

In Christ,

Amber

We Are Here

The old Chinese saying is “the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” This week has begun a long and beautiful journey for Amber, Dusty and me. Amber drove the U-haul which contained 95% of our belongings, the most difficult part of the trip to Sioux City was maneuvering into the mighty storm that hit the Mid-South last week; the truck swayed and shook but Amber got us through Memphis, the states of Arkansas and Missouri and at about 1:30pm on Friday afternoon she triumphantly drove the into our apartment lot, in frigid Western Iowa with an intact PT Cruiser towed behind. The task of unpacking that huge truck and two vehicles remained but we were jubilant.

Even in spite of 95 degree heat, we were blessed to have friends in Hernando help pack our U-haul back in Mississippi, but we were unsure if we would have people in Sioux City to do the same. One of the churches in the Baptist Convention of Iowa, Southern Hills Baptist Church said it would ask its congregation to come to our apartment between 2:00 and 3:00 pm to help move us. By 3:00, however, no one was there, we still had a truck full of belongings and I had twisted my back- Amber was seriously considering tossing everything in a dumpster.

At 3:15, a van pulls up with a Nebraska tag, and a lady named Tess got out and said, “Richard? We are here to help!” Another van and car drove in minutes later. Thirteen people came. Our clothes, bed, nightstands, mirrors, kitchen goods and TWENTY NINE boxes of books were in our apartment within 45 minutes. An hour later, Jamie from the church even brought us sloppy joe’s and watermelon for supper. 

Church planting is hard work; we are in the fight of our lives, but we don’t fight alone.

Volunteers from Southern Hills Baptist Church. 

In Christ,

Richard Crowson

Loving Your Neighbor....

"Raise your hand if you know the name(s) of the neighbor to the right of you" No hands went up.  "Now raise your hand if you know the name(s) of the neighbor to your immediate left" Still no hands went up. "Ok. Now raise your hand if you know the names of any single person or animal that lives on your street" Not a single hand was raised.  Sunday School was profoundly quiet that morning. I felt justified in the fact that we had just moved into our rental home, and we had a legitimate excuse not to know our neighbors.  So what was everyone else's excuses? How can they NOT know the names of their neighbors?

Raised in a small farm town in Iowa, I knew everybody on my street and all the streets around me.  I could walk down any street in town (all one square mile of it) and could tell you at least the first or last name of most of the people living in the houses.  I could probably even tell you some of their telephone numbers.  I knew every child enrolled in my class and the classes below and above me.  If a stray animal came into my yard, I knew what house it belonged to.  It's just the way it was.  I never thought twice about it.  I could not understand how I could not know these people. Even though I have been away from that small town for 15 years, I can almost bet that if I walked into the grocery store I would know at least five people.  Knowing your neighbor is a piece of cake. I totally got this.

About 6 months later, I was working at Petco and a family approached me to purchase a guinea pig.  As I was helping them get their purchase together, I noticed the parents were looking at me in a strange way. "This is a little awkward but are you our neighbor?"  They did not look familiar to me whatsoever.  I had never seen them before.  "Surely not, I would recognize you!" As they described my house, my car and even said "Yes, your house is the blue house with the Siamese cat that sits in the front window!"  Busted! I did not know my neighbor.  Not only did I not know them, I didn't even recognize them. It may not seem like a big deal but it bothered me immensely that I didn't recognize their faces.  

What had changed in my life that I didn't know the family that lived right next door to me?  Conviction devoured me. Over the next few days the Holy Spirit continually put my neighbors on my heart.  It was so easy to minister to those in the church that came to me for help.  It was second nature to whip up a sunday school lesson and teach on the spot. I thrived living life with church members that I love so dearly.  What about those who lived next door to me that desperately needed truth?  One night Richard and I began to earnestly pray for our neighbors.  We prayed for opportunities to meet them and become apart of their lives.  We prayed for opportunities to meet their needs and hopefully reach them with the Gospel.

A month later the neighbor across the street backed his truck into Richard's car. My first instinct was to spaz out but I calmly walked across the street and knocked on the door.  After finalizing insurance details, he asks if my husband's name is Richard.  Wait...What? Why yes.. yes it is.   He tells me that he is in the National Guard and Richard use to preach every week and he remembered seeing him there. Richard has had coffee with him in our home several times since.   His dog's name is Bear.

I found out that the neighbor to our left works for a business that I consult with on a daily basis. We have been invited to every birthday and cookout they have had in their home for the last four years.   Her children can always be found playing in our backyard. They always greet me when I pull into the driveway and last year they each made us a homemade Christmas card.  Her dog's names are Boss and Lea.

One day a little girl knocked on our door holding a Guinea Pig that didn't feel very well. I'll give you a guess who that was.  Our neighbor's to the right. I was invited over and quickly discovered the Guinea Pig was not getting any Vitamin C.  They also have a pet snake and a turtle. I have pet-sat for them on numerous occasions until the family moved to a new home.  Their dog's name was CoCo. 

A new group of individuals moved in next door.  Three young men. I knew I couldn't just walk over there and knock on the door so I prayed for opportunity.  Our landlord for whatever reason began to mow their yard when he mowed ours. One day a girlfriend of one of the men approached me.  She thanked me for mowing their yard.  They had recently received some very bad news about one of their friends and appreciated the gesture.  Conveniently the UPS guy continually delivered me their packages for several months requiring me to go over to their house and deliver them. :) Their dog's name is Chief. 

One by one God opened up the doors to our neighbors.  Usually the method he used is their pets.  Everyone on my street knows I now work at a vet clinic.  The children love to show me their new pets and I have enjoyed watching them grow up.  Very often the neighborhood children congregate in our yard.  We know most of their parents and most of them come from very destructive homes.  We continue to pray over them.  

Two nights ago I was summoned to the door by frantic knocking.  A gentleman was holding a young puppy that had gotten very sick.  My instinct told me it was Parvo.  A deadly (and expensive) virus puppies get and if not treated the puppy will die.  I discussed the situation with him standing in my front yard in my pajamas. He met me at my job first thing in the morning and the puppy did indeed have Parvo.  As he explained his life circumstances I quickly came to the understanding that this gentleman and his girlfriend had no money.  They couldn't afford to treat the puppy.  We did everything we could for the puppy with the budget we were given which wasn't much.  My heart was broken for them.  I returned their puppy back to them very ill and very lethargic and told them I was praying for the puppy and for them.  It wasn't very hopeful.

Tonight as I was preparing for bed somebody knocked on our door.  I am getting quite use to people stopping by and didn't think much about it.  I opened the door and four (different) neighbors were standing on our front porch.  In the middle of the circle was the puppy running around and playing at their feet.  We as a neighborhood celebrated a very small victory and a very small miracle.  The puppy had lived and was thriving.

As I am typing this my heart if very full.  I can now successfully name everyone of my neighbors. God has answered our prayers and these relationships are growing.  One step at a time we are loving our neighbors and really it hasn't cost us a thing.  Just a little determination, patience, and much prayer.  We still have a long ways to go.  

Do we have it figured out? No way.  It took almost five years to come as far as we have.  We have barely scratched the surface.  These people are destructive and are in desperate need of the Gospel.  Honestly, some of them struggle just to put food on the table.  There is a lot of pain and suffering behind those walls. We just continue to pray and remain faithful.  God will always present opportunities to meet your neighbors and their needs. All you need to do is ask.

The puppy's name is Lucky.