Partially-Known Communities

For years I was frustrated at the lack of "Christian Community" in my life. When the frustration became great enough, I would step out of my comfort zone and seek community. Too often I would be labeled or defined before I was actually known. I lived in this place of loneliness where I had few people to cheer my successes, and even fewer to carry my burdens. And so the cycle began - need community - seek community - flee community.

Fast forward to the present and I feel like I am surrounded by a strong community. Yes, I belong to a small group at church (the best small group ever), but my "community" today is much broader than that. My community is made up of a variety of people who weave in and out of my life. I originally started this paragraph with "... I am surrounded by a strong community of people who really know me." but something made me go back and change it. I wasn't moved to change it due to lack of interest from my community, but rather a lack of a desire on my part to be fully known.

I like to hold to the belief that I want "to be known". I like to glorify the idea of people really knowing me and understanding me. Ahh... the dream of true community.

This morning however, something shook my thoughts. I regularly receive emails, phone calls, or in person requests for prayer. And for some reason, during my commute today I began thinking about true community. I began thinking about how we share our needs with others.

I am afraid that down deep, most of us really want to be partially known. We guard closely what we allow other people to know about us. Like Adam/Eve, we want to hide. My guess is that most of us aren't hiding really big things like murder, or addictions, or theft - those would be tough to reveal. But we choose to hide the common struggles.

This all became real to me when I started reflecting on the prayer requests I hear my friends give - and the prayer requests I give to them. We have matured (a little) since youth group so instead of saying we have an "unspoken" request, we share vague little things, we share requests for our family/friends - but not for ourselves. We downplay, we spiritualize, or we stay silent.

We are afraid of what we really might look like. I haven't thought much about this aspect of hiding/image management says about our relationship with our Creator - but I think that would be a good thing to write about in the future.

I wonder what would happen if we really began to share our hurts, or needs, our weakness. I wonder how community would play out if we really shared with others... and if we really shared those things with God.

Running On Empty

Initially I thought I would have difficulty generating content for my blog on a regular basis. I have found that content is not the problem; For me, time is the problem. Actually time, and a lack of sleep.

With three children under the age of 5, life is somewhat busy... and tiring. The funny thing is that people keep asking me, "Is it hard having three kids?" and I say no, not really. I am starting to think my sense of reason must be impaired from sleep deprivation or something.

Lately our baby has decided she loves being with us so much that she just has to see us more, so she has figured out a way to make that happen - stop sleeping so much. But it isn't just her. She and her brothers (and the cat) have already begun forming a strong alliance against me (against us). On those nights when Riley can't keep her eyes open any longer, Ian will step up to the plate and disrupt my precious sleep... or Lucas will step up... or that wonderful cat of ours.

The cat - Nala - will only drink water from a running faucet... or our glasses of water. When Nala gets thirsty in the middle of the night, she will begin meowing the most annoying of meows until someone turns the water on. Or she will circle our bodies like a vulture circles its prey.

The boys - now they know that sleep is very important (for them, and for me) and they are supposed to stay in bed until 6:00am. They have a digital clock in their room and know what the first number needs to be, before they can get up. You would think this would be easy then right? Wrong. They are learning already to study the rules so they can find the loopholes. They have just about given up on coming in to ask me at 5:20am if it is time to get up. That is not to say they have given up on waking me at 5:20am - they just go about it in different ways. Their latest strategy is to come in and wake me up. Here is a sample of the exchange:

Boys: Daddy
Daddy: (Interrupting) Back to bed, it is not time to get up
Boys: No, daddy you aren't listening. I'm just asking how much longer until breakfast.

I am staring to think their conspiracy is much more advanced then I have been led to believe. Those sweet little cherubs. Hmmm... I wonder if Lucas really did fall out of bed the other night. He was sitting on the floor, but he wasn't crying at all. And I do remember seeing a stack of books on the floor.

Well, since I can't take nap right now, I am just going to feel loved that my kids want to see me every waking moment.


(Disclaimer: The statements within today's blog are the opinions of the blogger and do not necessarily reflect the views of the entire Jackson household.).

$207 Million

Each day for the past 6 years, I have passed by The Gateway Newstand in the train station. And each time I pass by, I see the signs for the various lottery's and the jackpot amounts prominently displayed. Nearly two weeks ago as I was walking by I noticed the mega millions lottery sign - $207 Million! For the next 10 or 15 minutes I thought about that jackpot. I thought about all the things I could do... all the "positive" things I could do with that much money. Some thoughts were very noble, while others were pretty silly - such as buying the two houses next to mine and knocking them down so my boys could have a real yard to run around in. I didn't really think much of this the rest of the day, until it was time to go home.

While walking through the train station to catch my train home, I again passed by the lottery signs and saw $207 million. This vast sum of money was stuck in my head, but this time my thoughts were different. As I sat on the train thinking about my thoughts from the morning, I realized having $207 million would be the worst thing that could happen to my soul (in case you are wondering - no, I did not buy a ticket). I determined that although this could provide for so much, in the end it might very well cost me many times more than what I could ever have gained. It would ultimately eliminate my need to trust God. It would ultimately lead me to a place where I would be seduced by the lie that I no longer needed to trust in my Father; Jehova Jira - the God who provides.

You see, this past year... maybe going on two years now, I have realized you can experience peace in the midst of pain and struggle. Financially there have been deep valleys. There has been a long journey through the desert with seemingly no hope in sight. During these times there were many days when I simply chose to try to take control and think of ways that I could solve these problems rather than depend upon God. These efforts were all in vain. But God is good, He is faithful... and He has never left us. He may not drop bread from the sky, but He still sends manna... He still makes provisions for His children.

It is hard for me to write this - because I still struggle with it daily... but my soul would rather live a life requiring dependence than a life of affluence (my flesh on the other hand...). I would rather struggle the rest of my life financially knowing that God is enough and needing Him, than to live a life of plenty and rely on myself and my own abilities.

Go... Somewhere

I am trying to write quickly, before the boys finish watching Charlotte's Web... and before Riley wakes up. I am starting to think maybe those late night writing sessions you hear people talk about is more about finding quiet than about feeling inspiration.

I have been thinking about Turkey a lot lately. Last year I traveled to Turkey to explore ministry partnerships for our church. Tomorrow I am talking with some of the children at our church - they are raising money this year for Turkey - so I have been trying to figure out what to say to them. No, this post is not about what I am going to tell them... not totally at least.

I have been staring out at my backyard, thinking about how God marked my life during that trip. On the surface I think about the important of missions - certainly true. But when I think about that trip, I cant say that God called me to pack up my family and move overseas. I returned home a different person for many other reasons - primarily playing a more active supporting role in missions. As I process what that exactly means, I will write about that in the future.

As my memory takes me back to my time in Istanbul and Antalya, I t makes me wish I was there. Actually, I just wish I was somewhere. I don't know exactly where I want to go, but I just want to go. I want to revisit those experiences overseas, I want to feel that feeling again first hand of seeing God at work globally. It is a blessing to see God at work in my community, but for me it just can't compare to the blessing to see God transforming lives in places that don't have churches on every corner... or those places where people witness horror everyday, yet still believe that God is good.

Gary Haugen of International Justice Mission talks about Gods rescue plan. He says we are Gods plan to save the world... and He doesn't have another plan.

Lets go... somewhere and be the light of the world.

Community-Friendly Church?

I have been thinking a lot lately about the role of the church within the community it belongs. In many ways I am struggling because for many churches, I am not sure they are necessarily making a positive difference in the community they belong.

Today's post is about the church influencing its neighbors. This post below if from a book I have been shaped by - And You Call Yourself A Christian by Dr. Robert Lupton.

"Through the trees in my back yard I can see the steeple of the Lighthouse Tabernacle Holiness Church, Inc. It's a charming church with white columns and neatly manicured landscape. For as long as neighborhood residents can remember, it has maintained a quiet presence on the street. Its Sunday morning worshipers fit easily into the church parking lot, and the sounds of music and preaching are well contained within the air-conditioned sanctuary. It can genuinely be said of the Lighthouse Tabernacle Holiness Church that it does no harm to our community.

That is not to say that the church is community-friendly, however. it is just not community-unfriendly. Some neighbors even remember that a few years back, church members went door-to-door inviting community children to enroll in their summer vacation bible school. But they haven't done this for some time now. Like most of the churches in our neighborhood, Lighthouse Tabernacle Holiness Church is a commuter church and neither pastor nor parishioners live in the area. Because they drive in from other places, they have little vested interest in the neighborhood - except, or course, their building, which they maintain beautifully.

In 1934, the church was a vital part of the life of the neighborhood. It served as a moral compass, a spiritual strand in the fabric of the community. The pastor lived in a parsonage next door and his children attended the neighborhood schools. his voice carried authority when he attended PTA meetings because he spoke not only for his own children but also for those of his congregation.

Tithes and offerings stayed largely in the community, paying for salaries, youth programs, benevolence for those in need, and, of course, the building. When the church bought the adjacent lot to build an educational wing, the neighborhood was supportive. What was good fro the church, they knew was good for the community. That's when the church was of the community.

But over time members moved to the suburbs and eventually the church was sold to another group. The new pastor owned a home in another part of the city and had no need for the parsonage. The new congregation was friendly enough, but their busy lives were invested elsewhere. Their community "outreach" efforts were well-intentioned but lacked consistency. And hey gave the subtle impression that they viewed neighborhood folk as "the lost," which seemed not a very community-friendly theology.

Expressways and multiple-car families have changed everything over the past 50 years. Especially the church. From an institution rooted in the soil of community it has become a spiritual health club for commuters. Pastors now measure their success by the number of ZIP codes they draw their membership from. Accessibility and parking have become two of the church's greatest challenges....

When our culture traded front-porch neighborhood life for private backyard patios, when we succumbed to the seduction of individualism and lost touch with our next-door neighbors, a void was created in the spirit of our people that chat rooms cannot fill. The commuting church, with its scattered members buzzing in and out of the neighborhood, is one more troubling reminder of what we have lost. A community-starved society, by its protests, is calling the church back to its historic mandate: to be the exemplar within the community of both love of God and love of neighbor."

I would love to hear your thoughts.

Doing More - Living Less

God speaks to me - or places thoughts in my mind - in the most interesting ways. It fascinates me that the Creator of all, this God of majesty and awe speaks to me in the most ordinary ways... and in the routine places within my day.

Riding the train to work. Walking by myself. Washing the dishes. Reading to my kids. Holding my baby.

Recently God has been speaking to me about the pace at which we move through life. Those of you who know me may find that odd because as you know, I enjoy the unhurried life. In fact two "friends" claim to have seen me walking home from the train at an unusually slow pace (I still believe that was an illusion caused by them driving by me at excessive speeds). Maybe it isn't so much the speed at which we live our lives, but rather the inability to be fully present in the moment. Or the ability to take the time to engage in observing what is happening around us.

Being a product of the United States, we are taught the value of multi-tasking. We are told the way to success is getting more things done in less time by partially engaging in multiple activities at the same time. But I am starting to wonder about that. I mean, if multi-tasking results in freeing up more time for us to be with those we love, or things we love... then I can see the value.

But what if multi-tasking breeds the need to do more, and to be fully present less? What if it allows us to get more done, but results in us living life less?

What are you really accomplishing when...
You completed your to do list but didn't have time to answer your child's question?
You buy your dream house, but your extra hours at the office allow little time to enjoy it?
You are so focused on ______ that you miss _______

We could go on and on.

I am afraid that all too often I neglect the relationships I most need... all so I can earn a few more dollars, run a few more errands, and complete my list of menial tasks.

Maybe being the most productive society doesn't always mean being the best.

In The Beginning...

For years I have loved the idea of writing - not actually writing... but the idea of it. I hated every writing assignment in high school and college, but there was something inside me that always dreamed of writing.

I think I disliked the structure of writing. The pressure to write, or being forced to write about something I cared nothing about. I disliked writing because I did not excel in intellectual discovery, persuasion, or grammatical structure. But on occasion I experienced glimpses of the joy I found in writing.

Growing up, and in fact to this very day, verbalizing my thoughts proves very difficult. Expressing my feelings out loud (coherently) seemed impossible at times. I remember the difficulty being so great in high school that one time I took a zero on a speech assignment rather than give the speech.

Throughout college my greater struggles were understanding what was going on within my soul. You could ask me how I felt about something and I would find it difficult to tell you what I was feeling... about almost anything. It was during these times that I began to find myself through the process of writing. I began to gain insight into my soul and hear the promptings of God as I wrote. Writing became a way for me to rediscover the desires God planted within my heart.

As I begin to write more regularly, I have found that I need to write. I am discovering that I connect deeply with God through writing. My soul finds the words it longs to speak... and God reveals Himself to me through this process. My hope is that God will use my words to speak to you... but this isn't all about you - it is about me processing who Jesus is.

My intent is to post daily. The reality is that I still hate writing assignments and the pressure to write. I write when I feel led. I write when God stirs my soul. This blog has become my journal, and these posts will mark events on my journey.

The Disruptive Life? You may be wondering where I came up with this name. Well... if you want to follow Jesus, you better be prepared to have your life disrupted. His plans are not always are plans...