I remember my first mission trip to Arizona. It was emotionally and physically the most difficult trip to date, of all of my trips. Somehow my zeal for missions was exponentially increased. Definitely a "God thing."
One day, during a devotional time, God gave me a scripture that I immediately internalized. "Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me." Matthew 10:37-38. I recall where I was sitting, the smell of the air, the color of the sky, tinged with the rays of the setting sun. In my heart, at that moment, I vowed to take up my cross and follow my Savior at any cost. For me, it is and always has been a no-brainer.
Other scriptures elude me, regardless of how I try to embody them. I've always related to Martha more than Mary. Generally--at home, at work, at church, I'm the one running around, cleaning up dishes, cooking dinner, setting things up, tearing things down, making sure everything is running smoothly for the feast. I've read, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30. I've tried to put Jesus' yoke on. I've recited this scripture countless times. I've begged God for His yoke. I've cried bitter tears, wondering why God would forsake me and not allow me rest.
This Christmas, God gave me a gift--actually many gifts--for which I have been asking. Looking at the past few months, I've actually had the gifts and have been walking in them. I spent much of Christmas day with the Jacksons. I had the opportunity to talk trash on my pastor as my team beat his at "Deal or No Deal." I was heckled by him as my Cowboys were crushed by his Eagles. I really enjoyed my Christmas--no stress, no weirdness, no aggravation. As I was driving home down Rt. 70, I heard Matthew 11:28-30. And I realized that I now have Jesus yoke. My soul is truly at rest.
When you are where God has called you to be, doing what He has created you to do, your soul can rest. It is the natural effect of walking in His will. For the first time in my life, I am not looking for the next opportunity to jet off to another place in the world. I am satisfied in NJ because I know that this is where God wants me. He hand-picked The Sanctuary, Pastor John, Voorhees Township to be in my life for such a time as this. Yes, my family life is chaotic at best. Yes, I need a less temporary job. But, even in those tings I find favor in my Savior's sight. Because I am where God has called me to be, doing what He's called me to do.
Showing posts with label pastors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pastors. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Monday, December 18, 2006
Ouch
Yesterday, after church, we were talking with Pastor John and Beth.
All of a sudden, we found ourselves talking about blogs. I mentioned that I had written that I want to be anywhere but NJ. Some more comments were made, and then Pastor John looked away and said, "You see. Deneen lives here, but she lives elsewhere." If that is not the exact quote, it's what I heard.
Ouch.
More conversation was had. A day was lived. But that comment stuck with me. Not in a bad way. But more in a this is something on which I have to work kind of way.
I've spent 31 years wishing I was somewhere else. To quote George Bailey in It's a Wonderful Life, "The three best sounds in the world are a plane engine, a train whistle and the sound of an anchor pulling up." I love to travel, even if it means getting on a PATCO train to go into Philadelphia.
However, I have to learn to abide where I am. I've never known so clearly that God has placed me here for such a time as this. The things that I see Him doing in my life right now, His constant presence, His words of encouragement, correction. He's placed me in a church where I am held accountable. Not the kind of accountability that makes me hide who I am. The kind of accountability that allows me to be who I am. He's given me something for which I have been asking for a long time.
One day we were singing "To the Ends of the Earth" by Hillsong United. The worship leader asked the congregation, "Would you go to the ends of the earth for God? What if the ends of the earth, for you, is NJ." I remember crying bitterly. However, those words have stuck deep within my heart. I've been crying out for years, "Here I am, lord. Send me." It seems that He's saying, "Deneen, I already have."'
Ouch.
So, my lesson for this week, month, 2007 seems to be learning to abide right here, where I am, in NJ.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
October
I am suffering from acute ADD today, this week. I don't know whether it is the allergies/cold, or the weather, or just life in general. Something about this week is not allowing me to concentrate. OK, I'll stop blameshifting the responsibility. However, I do think that a little backstory wouldn't hurt here.
Back in the mid-nineties, my friends and I had this obsession with ouija boards and tarot cards and psychics. I knew that it was not something in which I should have been dabbling, but I tried anyway. I had a psychic give me completely a wrong reading. When I called her on it, she was not a little unhappy with me. Another time, my friends and I were playing with a ouija board and the board told my friends that it would not talk to me because God was too close to me. No lie. I got mad because, at the time, I just wanted to hear something and I even got denied by a stupid ouija board.
It was in October that I decided to stop playing around with my life and give it up for God. The second time. Not the time for good. Anyway. We have a friend who was stayed with us for a night because he had no place to sleep. He stayed with us on Mischief Night 1996 if I recall properly. He is a really cool guy--a real free spirit, a gift of worship, all over a neat fellow. I let him have my room and I spent the night on the couch. He woke up to take his kids to school because someone had slashed the tires of the woman who was caring for his kids for the night. I was in a miserable mood when he left, so as soon as our front door closed, I was asleep in my bed. A little while later, I awoke to the smell of bacon and waffles, and the sound of the guitar playing in my living room. I was starving, so I got up. I was barely in the living room when the conviction of the Lord came upon me and I knew that it was time to stop playing around with the occult and walk forward into what God had for me. I walked full on for God, looking to please pastors and friends and man in general for two years. I attended two churches in that time, and saw God do some really amazing things--heal cancer, straighten backs, even uneven legs. One day I got my feelings hurt and made up some lame excuse as to why I couldn't go to church anymore.
I walked away from everything about God for six months, beginning in October of 1998. It was probably the darkest period of my life, because I knew that God had something amazing for me, that He'd called me into ministry, to do amazing things for Him. I wrestled with wanting the things of the world more: men, money, acclaim, respect. I went on a six month drinking binge. I still cannot believe that I was so irresponsible, but I thank God for that time because I've seen Him use it over and over again. My binge ended on February 6, 1999 when I nearly crashed into a median on Rt. 295 going way too fast on a rainy, puddly day. I returned to church on February 7, 1999 and the rest, as they say, is history.
October is traditionally a difficult month spiritually, physically, emotionally for me. I find myself, like Paul, wanting to do the things that I don't want to do and not doing the things that I want to do. I find myself questioning God, the things of God. I find myself wondering what the heck I am doing.
This year God is redeeming October. I've seen God move in amazing ways. I've seen more favor of God this October than ever. I've fallen in love with my church, with my friends, with my God. Though I admit to joking incessantly about going to business school rather than to seminary, I've never been so sure of anything in my life. It is my mission, my desire, to allow God to redeem a lot more than October. I want to see God redeem 6 billion people.
Back in the mid-nineties, my friends and I had this obsession with ouija boards and tarot cards and psychics. I knew that it was not something in which I should have been dabbling, but I tried anyway. I had a psychic give me completely a wrong reading. When I called her on it, she was not a little unhappy with me. Another time, my friends and I were playing with a ouija board and the board told my friends that it would not talk to me because God was too close to me. No lie. I got mad because, at the time, I just wanted to hear something and I even got denied by a stupid ouija board.
It was in October that I decided to stop playing around with my life and give it up for God. The second time. Not the time for good. Anyway. We have a friend who was stayed with us for a night because he had no place to sleep. He stayed with us on Mischief Night 1996 if I recall properly. He is a really cool guy--a real free spirit, a gift of worship, all over a neat fellow. I let him have my room and I spent the night on the couch. He woke up to take his kids to school because someone had slashed the tires of the woman who was caring for his kids for the night. I was in a miserable mood when he left, so as soon as our front door closed, I was asleep in my bed. A little while later, I awoke to the smell of bacon and waffles, and the sound of the guitar playing in my living room. I was starving, so I got up. I was barely in the living room when the conviction of the Lord came upon me and I knew that it was time to stop playing around with the occult and walk forward into what God had for me. I walked full on for God, looking to please pastors and friends and man in general for two years. I attended two churches in that time, and saw God do some really amazing things--heal cancer, straighten backs, even uneven legs. One day I got my feelings hurt and made up some lame excuse as to why I couldn't go to church anymore.
I walked away from everything about God for six months, beginning in October of 1998. It was probably the darkest period of my life, because I knew that God had something amazing for me, that He'd called me into ministry, to do amazing things for Him. I wrestled with wanting the things of the world more: men, money, acclaim, respect. I went on a six month drinking binge. I still cannot believe that I was so irresponsible, but I thank God for that time because I've seen Him use it over and over again. My binge ended on February 6, 1999 when I nearly crashed into a median on Rt. 295 going way too fast on a rainy, puddly day. I returned to church on February 7, 1999 and the rest, as they say, is history.
October is traditionally a difficult month spiritually, physically, emotionally for me. I find myself, like Paul, wanting to do the things that I don't want to do and not doing the things that I want to do. I find myself questioning God, the things of God. I find myself wondering what the heck I am doing.
This year God is redeeming October. I've seen God move in amazing ways. I've seen more favor of God this October than ever. I've fallen in love with my church, with my friends, with my God. Though I admit to joking incessantly about going to business school rather than to seminary, I've never been so sure of anything in my life. It is my mission, my desire, to allow God to redeem a lot more than October. I want to see God redeem 6 billion people.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
The call to ministry
The heart of a pastor must remain guarded from sin while available to sinners.
The other night that thought raced through my mind until I could contain it no longer. That led to this being written in my journal. It's raw...very raw.
I don't know if I am truly cut out for ministry. The responsibility is awesome. First and foremost, you have to keep your relationship with Christ healthy, in tact. That requires time consistently, intentionally spent in His presence. More than the 15 minutes in the shower or a half hour commute. Further, your availability must be constant--12 PM, 8 AM, 3 AM, anything in between. God does not require sacrifice. That would be easy. He requires obedience. I must be bridled and not only able but willing to be used however, whenever, wherever He chooses. Further, God uses what man considers foolish to confound the wise. So no, I have to be willing to look foolish or act foolishly--change direction on a dime, go somewhere where no opportunities appear from my current perspective though there are many opportunities where I am, not being fully certain of what lay ahead or IF I'll return to this place I've grown to love. I will have to love wholeheartedly people who will inevitably break my heart and semmingly donate my heart to ungrateful people, knowing that my heart wil be returned abused, bleeding and deeply bruised. I will have to trust that God can heal those deep hurts and that the seeds sown will not come back void. I will have the responsibility of being a bridge--walked on, overlooked, standing fast in a quick current--to Jesus. I will have to present the Word of God to some who have never heard it; to those who will use my sermons as their biblical shot for the week, month, year; those those who loathe the message I am bringing. I will have to risk rejection as I call people on their bluffs, their lies, their illusions. I will counsel people through the biggest events of their lives--marriage, parenthood, death, career changes, the call of God, illness, lifestyle changes and choices, college choices, how to navigate the gray areas of life. I will have to protect sheep from wolves, sheep from their own pack mentality. I will help to navigate the return to society from the wilderness, from society into the wilderness. I will have to love people, watch them grow and send them out into their destiny, trusting God to fill the void in me that is left. I will stand on the mountaintop and hear the whisper of God in the storm; I will sit at the table prepared for me in the Valley of the Shadow of Death in front of my enemies. I will have many enemies and very few true friends. Many enemies will turn into friend and many friends will quickly turn into enemies. People will see me as a well instead of a person; they will see what I can do rather than who I am or Whose I am. My nails will most likely be painfully short and my hair prematurely grey. Sleep will surely elude me most nights, coffee will comfort me as much as the Holy Spirit. My brain will be picked, my motives constantly checked, my heart purged, my life--past, present and future--under a microscope. There will be no skeletons in my closet, no detail too personal to be exploited. Yet, somehow, I cannot imagine any other life. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm foolish. But I choose to walk forward certainly into the uncertain. Jesus asked me if I would leave Him like others have. My response, "Lord, where else have I to go?"
The other night that thought raced through my mind until I could contain it no longer. That led to this being written in my journal. It's raw...very raw.
I don't know if I am truly cut out for ministry. The responsibility is awesome. First and foremost, you have to keep your relationship with Christ healthy, in tact. That requires time consistently, intentionally spent in His presence. More than the 15 minutes in the shower or a half hour commute. Further, your availability must be constant--12 PM, 8 AM, 3 AM, anything in between. God does not require sacrifice. That would be easy. He requires obedience. I must be bridled and not only able but willing to be used however, whenever, wherever He chooses. Further, God uses what man considers foolish to confound the wise. So no, I have to be willing to look foolish or act foolishly--change direction on a dime, go somewhere where no opportunities appear from my current perspective though there are many opportunities where I am, not being fully certain of what lay ahead or IF I'll return to this place I've grown to love. I will have to love wholeheartedly people who will inevitably break my heart and semmingly donate my heart to ungrateful people, knowing that my heart wil be returned abused, bleeding and deeply bruised. I will have to trust that God can heal those deep hurts and that the seeds sown will not come back void. I will have the responsibility of being a bridge--walked on, overlooked, standing fast in a quick current--to Jesus. I will have to present the Word of God to some who have never heard it; to those who will use my sermons as their biblical shot for the week, month, year; those those who loathe the message I am bringing. I will have to risk rejection as I call people on their bluffs, their lies, their illusions. I will counsel people through the biggest events of their lives--marriage, parenthood, death, career changes, the call of God, illness, lifestyle changes and choices, college choices, how to navigate the gray areas of life. I will have to protect sheep from wolves, sheep from their own pack mentality. I will help to navigate the return to society from the wilderness, from society into the wilderness. I will have to love people, watch them grow and send them out into their destiny, trusting God to fill the void in me that is left. I will stand on the mountaintop and hear the whisper of God in the storm; I will sit at the table prepared for me in the Valley of the Shadow of Death in front of my enemies. I will have many enemies and very few true friends. Many enemies will turn into friend and many friends will quickly turn into enemies. People will see me as a well instead of a person; they will see what I can do rather than who I am or Whose I am. My nails will most likely be painfully short and my hair prematurely grey. Sleep will surely elude me most nights, coffee will comfort me as much as the Holy Spirit. My brain will be picked, my motives constantly checked, my heart purged, my life--past, present and future--under a microscope. There will be no skeletons in my closet, no detail too personal to be exploited. Yet, somehow, I cannot imagine any other life. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm foolish. But I choose to walk forward certainly into the uncertain. Jesus asked me if I would leave Him like others have. My response, "Lord, where else have I to go?"
Did that really happen?
Yesterday I spent the day completely nervous, wondering if, once again, my heart would be crushed into a thousand little piece and my vision scoffed. I walked out of my pastors' house wanting to pinch myself to make sure that I hadn't been dreaming. I can't imagine life not where I am at the moment. I can't imagine having a pastor who...
My mom and I were debriefing about my meeting. She asked me how my meeting went. I began by telling her how afraid I was...so much so that I cleaned the house from top to bottom and didn't eat. Two miracles...haha...mental note to self...must stop self depricating humor. We discussed my track record with pastors...one could not remember my name to save his life; one told me that if I wanted to go into ministry that I should become a nurse. One told me that I should be a teacher, a lawyer. I understand now why he wanted me to become a lawyer, but that is a whole other story. *snickers* So, a few weeks ago I completely bombarded my pastor with the news that I wanted to go to seminary, that I wanted to go to Gordon Conwell, that I was leaving in a few months. I was expecting rejection, so I dropped the bomb, told him to have a good week and literally RAN out of church. Joshua would have been proud.
Back to last night. I went to John and Beth's house, and had coffee with them. We (the THREE of us, 'cause she's allowed to be a part of this stuff) talked about vision, passions, likes, dislikes. We talked about the past, the present, the future. Long-term and short-term ideas. How to reach out to our community. Not how to draw people to a church location, but how to reach the community with absolutely no strings attached. We discussed some of the greatest church planters of our time. We talked about church explosion and the vision of the church. I told them that I am dying to get my hands dirty...I seriously cannot stand sitting on the sidelines any longer. So, after our discussion, I got offered something. I am going to oversee our outreach to our community. They asked me what title I wanted. I laughed and told them that I really don't need a title. Pastor John kind of laughed and said of course you need a title. So, I am now a ministry liasion. How 007! I'm getting cards and everything.
There is an element of irony here. When I was at my last church, I wanted, asked, almost begged them to see me, to give me an identity, a marker to let me know what I was, what my role was. I nearly got on my knees and grovelled for validation. Over the past year, any desire for title has been more than killed. It has been cremated. Beth looked at me and said, "You know, there is no room for ego in ministry. But I don't think that we have to worry about that with you." I smiled and nodded. How can I have too much ego? I live at home with my parents; I graduated from college but cannot find a job; I'm 31 and I drive my mom's minivan; I've had my name dragged through the mud among friend and foe alike. I've been a little humbled over the past year or two. I don't wear my process like a badge, but it is something that has been seared into the fabric of my being.
Be on the lookout, Voorhees. Deneen, Ministry Liasion is coming to a business near you to get to know you, to love you, to bring you cool stuff, like pens. You don't have to do anything in return. A smile would be nice, but I won't even ask that of you.
Oh yeah...I also think that I've perhaps found a piece of my voice in the greater conversation that is occuring.
My mom and I were debriefing about my meeting. She asked me how my meeting went. I began by telling her how afraid I was...so much so that I cleaned the house from top to bottom and didn't eat. Two miracles...haha...mental note to self...must stop self depricating humor. We discussed my track record with pastors...one could not remember my name to save his life; one told me that if I wanted to go into ministry that I should become a nurse. One told me that I should be a teacher, a lawyer. I understand now why he wanted me to become a lawyer, but that is a whole other story. *snickers* So, a few weeks ago I completely bombarded my pastor with the news that I wanted to go to seminary, that I wanted to go to Gordon Conwell, that I was leaving in a few months. I was expecting rejection, so I dropped the bomb, told him to have a good week and literally RAN out of church. Joshua would have been proud.
Back to last night. I went to John and Beth's house, and had coffee with them. We (the THREE of us, 'cause she's allowed to be a part of this stuff) talked about vision, passions, likes, dislikes. We talked about the past, the present, the future. Long-term and short-term ideas. How to reach out to our community. Not how to draw people to a church location, but how to reach the community with absolutely no strings attached. We discussed some of the greatest church planters of our time. We talked about church explosion and the vision of the church. I told them that I am dying to get my hands dirty...I seriously cannot stand sitting on the sidelines any longer. So, after our discussion, I got offered something. I am going to oversee our outreach to our community. They asked me what title I wanted. I laughed and told them that I really don't need a title. Pastor John kind of laughed and said of course you need a title. So, I am now a ministry liasion. How 007! I'm getting cards and everything.
There is an element of irony here. When I was at my last church, I wanted, asked, almost begged them to see me, to give me an identity, a marker to let me know what I was, what my role was. I nearly got on my knees and grovelled for validation. Over the past year, any desire for title has been more than killed. It has been cremated. Beth looked at me and said, "You know, there is no room for ego in ministry. But I don't think that we have to worry about that with you." I smiled and nodded. How can I have too much ego? I live at home with my parents; I graduated from college but cannot find a job; I'm 31 and I drive my mom's minivan; I've had my name dragged through the mud among friend and foe alike. I've been a little humbled over the past year or two. I don't wear my process like a badge, but it is something that has been seared into the fabric of my being.
Be on the lookout, Voorhees. Deneen, Ministry Liasion is coming to a business near you to get to know you, to love you, to bring you cool stuff, like pens. You don't have to do anything in return. A smile would be nice, but I won't even ask that of you.
Oh yeah...I also think that I've perhaps found a piece of my voice in the greater conversation that is occuring.
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