Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
Real Miracles
I have many memories of miracles in my life. God has been proving Himself in my recklessness forever! Of those many examples, the one that stands out for me is when I lived in Evansville and was teaching at St. John's in Newburg, IN.
I was late to work and speeding on a country road when my front tire hit a chuckhole throwing both front and back tires on the passenger side of the car off the road which then caused the whole car to veer off the right embankment right down into a deep ravine -- 10' or more down. All this happened in a split second and, still traveling at seventy miles per hour, in this time before seat belts, I was heading straight towards a solid concrete wall that had been poured beneath a driveway.
I knew I was dead, I could see no way out and I remember asking God to forgive my sins and feeling very sad because of how much my death would grieve my mother and sister. In those few seconds, I was at peace with my God, when, without any jerk or warning, my car rose out of the ravine and sailed above the concrete!! Though I had not moved the steering wheel or touched either gas peddle or break, my car was literally flying five or six feet up in the air over the top of that driveway.
I heard my own voice tell me to duck, to lean over, and even as I heard that in my mind I though, "I am gonna land really hard!" And I could see the top of my head hitting the roof of the car with sickening force, so I ducked way over and then I was landing on the other side of the concrete driveway, way down fifteen feet into the ravine on the other side. I landed so hard my back slammed into the roof of the car hard enough to knock the breath from me.
Then all was still. I was ten feet down in that ravine so narrow my car barely fit. The dirt and grass walls of the deep ditch less than a foot from either side of my car. I fit in there as neat as a loaf of bread in a shoebox! Except for sore muscles, (especially my back!) I was unhurt and the car was fine, too--though the tow truck like to never figure out how to get it out of the narrow, deep ditch.
The paramedics thought they would have to cut the top of the car off to get me out, but I told them I wasn't hurt, and wiggling sideways in the seat, I managed to shimmy out the driver's side window and they reached down under my arms and pulled me up to the edge of the road. I kept saying I was alright, but when I started to stand, my legs were pure rubber, so I just sat for awhile and waited, dissuading the paramedics from taking me away on a stretcher, watching as the tow truck guys and police marveled at the undamaged yellow Oldsmobile Cutless, and discussed how to extract it from it's earthen box . I remember telling them I managed to get it in there without a scratch, so could they get it out in the same shape, please?
People were shouting--those who were in cars following me, those who lived in the house whose driveway I had flown over--"Did you see that?? Did you see!?? It was a miracle!! God just picked up that car. I watched it!! God picked up her car right out of that ditch and placed it neatly on the other side of that cement wall!! Lady, are you saved??"
Yes, I thought to myself; yes I am.
I was late to work and speeding on a country road when my front tire hit a chuckhole throwing both front and back tires on the passenger side of the car off the road which then caused the whole car to veer off the right embankment right down into a deep ravine -- 10' or more down. All this happened in a split second and, still traveling at seventy miles per hour, in this time before seat belts, I was heading straight towards a solid concrete wall that had been poured beneath a driveway.
I knew I was dead, I could see no way out and I remember asking God to forgive my sins and feeling very sad because of how much my death would grieve my mother and sister. In those few seconds, I was at peace with my God, when, without any jerk or warning, my car rose out of the ravine and sailed above the concrete!! Though I had not moved the steering wheel or touched either gas peddle or break, my car was literally flying five or six feet up in the air over the top of that driveway.
I heard my own voice tell me to duck, to lean over, and even as I heard that in my mind I though, "I am gonna land really hard!" And I could see the top of my head hitting the roof of the car with sickening force, so I ducked way over and then I was landing on the other side of the concrete driveway, way down fifteen feet into the ravine on the other side. I landed so hard my back slammed into the roof of the car hard enough to knock the breath from me.
Then all was still. I was ten feet down in that ravine so narrow my car barely fit. The dirt and grass walls of the deep ditch less than a foot from either side of my car. I fit in there as neat as a loaf of bread in a shoebox! Except for sore muscles, (especially my back!) I was unhurt and the car was fine, too--though the tow truck like to never figure out how to get it out of the narrow, deep ditch.
The paramedics thought they would have to cut the top of the car off to get me out, but I told them I wasn't hurt, and wiggling sideways in the seat, I managed to shimmy out the driver's side window and they reached down under my arms and pulled me up to the edge of the road. I kept saying I was alright, but when I started to stand, my legs were pure rubber, so I just sat for awhile and waited, dissuading the paramedics from taking me away on a stretcher, watching as the tow truck guys and police marveled at the undamaged yellow Oldsmobile Cutless, and discussed how to extract it from it's earthen box . I remember telling them I managed to get it in there without a scratch, so could they get it out in the same shape, please?
People were shouting--those who were in cars following me, those who lived in the house whose driveway I had flown over--"Did you see that?? Did you see!?? It was a miracle!! God just picked up that car. I watched it!! God picked up her car right out of that ditch and placed it neatly on the other side of that cement wall!! Lady, are you saved??"
Yes, I thought to myself; yes I am.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
We Can Not Allow the Fire to Die in the Young!!
I just watched youth pour their hearts out in song for Christ all weekend at Greater Indy Chrysalis Flights #43 and #44. I watched what reaches them, and found relating to them easy. With selections including music right from the radio mixed in with more traditional contemporary and old hymns, we created a space which had an exceptional effect on our potential for high energy--in all of us!
The message all weekend was of the same Christ we all know and love; the presentation was even very school-like, with listening, discussing, note-taking, reporting out, but the addition of music weaving through the whole day and including that kind which they related to naturally helped them . . . relate!! This is not difficult to understand . . .
What is this stubborness that makes us matured adults think we must only permit services with music from our generations? What are we so afraid will happen? No one kind of music is going to prevail over all any more than it ever has. Parishioners who do not relate to rock style presentations are free to attend other services. Sometimes I think we are afraid our passion will show, like the spirit within us is something we need to keep hidden, when showing spirit is what makes it grow stronger--like a plant exposed to the sun!
I used to go to my church's traditional service for thoughtful prayer, meditation, edification in the Word, soul centering, then go to our church's contemporary service for renewal and empowerment. Now, our contemporary service, which used to be filled with singing, participating young people is devoid of the youth, with carefully styled contemporary songs . . . and fabulous musicians . . . but is the same as the traditional . . . I no longer go very much since I attended earlier in the day. The missing youth, who seem to demand, over all, simple passion in music presentation, have taken the uncommon energy with them.
I get that power on the way home--singing in the car--from radio music, or CDs. Maybe that is okay, too . . . except . . . there is no community in that power, alone in my car, as it were. So, though I find energy to prop my faith, I long for the exquisite, long lasting power of community members reveling together in the innocent energy of young souls! I miss it.
Maybe the answer is to ensure all of our young people attend and then after volunteer for Chrysalis Flights! I will be there as often as I can. Fly With Christ
http://www.todayschristianmusic.com/artists/genre/contemporary/
The message all weekend was of the same Christ we all know and love; the presentation was even very school-like, with listening, discussing, note-taking, reporting out, but the addition of music weaving through the whole day and including that kind which they related to naturally helped them . . . relate!! This is not difficult to understand . . .
What is this stubborness that makes us matured adults think we must only permit services with music from our generations? What are we so afraid will happen? No one kind of music is going to prevail over all any more than it ever has. Parishioners who do not relate to rock style presentations are free to attend other services. Sometimes I think we are afraid our passion will show, like the spirit within us is something we need to keep hidden, when showing spirit is what makes it grow stronger--like a plant exposed to the sun!
I used to go to my church's traditional service for thoughtful prayer, meditation, edification in the Word, soul centering, then go to our church's contemporary service for renewal and empowerment. Now, our contemporary service, which used to be filled with singing, participating young people is devoid of the youth, with carefully styled contemporary songs . . . and fabulous musicians . . . but is the same as the traditional . . . I no longer go very much since I attended earlier in the day. The missing youth, who seem to demand, over all, simple passion in music presentation, have taken the uncommon energy with them.
I get that power on the way home--singing in the car--from radio music, or CDs. Maybe that is okay, too . . . except . . . there is no community in that power, alone in my car, as it were. So, though I find energy to prop my faith, I long for the exquisite, long lasting power of community members reveling together in the innocent energy of young souls! I miss it.
http://www.todayschristianmusic.com/artists/genre/contemporary/
Monday, February 13, 2012
Finding Our Center in a World of Chaos
Dwelling in the Holy Spirit
As United Methodists, we believe we are filled with the Holy Spirit, but what does that really mean? What does the Holy Spirit have to do with daily prayer?
With a little research, I found that “praying in the Spirit,” is mentioned three times in Scripture. In 1Corinthians 14:15 Paul says, “So what shall I do? I will pray with my spirit, but I will also pray with my mind; I will sing with my spirit, but I will also sing with my mind.” Ephesians 6:18 Paul, again, says, “And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.” Then, finally, Jude 20 says, “But you, dear friends, build yourselves up in your most holy faith and pray in the Holy Spirit.”
Praying in the Spirit does not refer to the words we are saying. Rather, it refers to how we are praying. Praying in the Spirit is praying according to the Spirit’s leading. It is praying for things the Spirit leads us to pray for. Romans 8:26 tells us, “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.”
Of all the gifts given to mankind by God, there is none greater than the presence of the Holy Spirit. He works in the hearts of all people everywhere. Everyone has a “God consciousness,” whether or not they really understand it. We all know this—even very young children have “feelings” of right and wrong. We often call this a “conscience.” The Spirit applies the truths of God to minds of people to convince them by fair and sufficient arguments that they are sinners. Responding to that conviction brings us to salvation. Simply said--we do wrong, we know it to be wrong, we say we are sorry, and we are forgiven. This is the Gift brought to us in Jesus, and the Holy Spirit is our Guide and Comforter, helping us learn to use this Gift to bring love to others and ourselves.
The Holy Spirit constantly seeks to guide us to Truth. The Spirit’s presence within us enables us to understand and interpret God’s Word. Jesus told His disciples that “When He, the Spirit of Truth, comes, He will guide you into all truth” (John 16:13). We already know, too, this Truth, almost without thinking about it. The fruit of the Holy Spirit brings us ever to Truth over and over each day. As He dwells us, He begins the work of harvesting His fruit in our lives—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). These are not works of our flesh, which is incapable of producing such fruit, but they are products of the Spirit’s presence in our lives. When we look inward, the goodness we see is the Holy Spirit, so much a part of each of us, we may not even realize how well we know Him.
So, why do we pray? We pray because God commands us to pray, as Jesus prayed, as all who seek to know God, pray. Praying in the Holy Spirit simply means to lean back in Him, safe and comforted, and confess our fears and mistakes--knowing we are encouraged and forgiven, loved and supported, in our daily worlds. A Christian, then, cannot be “alone,” for all Christians dwell in the Father through the inner Spirit of Truth.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Friday, January 6, 2012
Sunday, August 21, 2011
L@@King UP
Nietzsche said, “After you’ve gazed long enough into the abyss, it will also gaze into you.”
In Philippians 4:8, Paul writes, “Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.”
Both are right. One tells us how to find peace and happiness, how to help ourselves focus on loving like Christ, while the other flat out warns us of the alternative.
I have had long staring contests with the abyss, and only now, past half a decade of days, seen clearly my way to look uninhibitedly upon the glory of the other. Ironically enough, it is the hot depths of despair that burned the cataracts of doubt from my eyes making them clear and clean enough to see God.
I hope to spend all the rest of my days describing what I see in the depths of joy. I wish to spend the rest of my days in the palm of the gentle hand of Christ. I plan to spend all the rest of my days bathing in the fresh cool waters His fount of love.
I hope, I wish, I plan . . . I pray . . . even as I know I am not in charge anymore. He decides for me, and He, I know, plans to use me for tasks that will carry me far down away from His embrace into the needs of His people. Into the depths, again, from which I have so recently emerged, so rapturously been rescued.
The way I know well. He needs someone who knows the way in because he must have someone who can find her way back out. He needs someone who understands why others would descend in the first place. He needs the hands and feet of someone who has been tested by the fire, so no longer fears it. Someone who can endure the fire long enough to bring others out as their will allows them; someone willing to ignore death for the sake of life.
This is not the same route through which I first entered, but I will recognize the way regardless and this time, I will be carrying a Lantern through the darkness. A Lantern planted within me at birth, which now shines through glass as clear as mountain air, glass molten once in a pool of fire, now poured and blown, then shaped and cooled with the artistry of the breath of the Holy Spirit.
I start work, officially, tomorrow.
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