She did what she could...

Photo by Bgrace

Mark 14: 3-9
While he was at Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard.  She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.
Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, "Why this waste of perfume?"  It could have been sold for more than a year's wages and the money given to the poor."  And they rebuked her harshly.
"Leave her alone," said Jesus.  "Why are you bothering her?  She has done a beautiful thing to me.  The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want.  But you will not always have me.  She did what she could.  She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial.  I tell you the truth, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her."

I have been praying through some questions of late.  Trying to understand this season the Lord has me in.  We've been doing work on the house.  My living room is very significant and I have felt the Lord's guidance in every step.  It will be a very beautiful and meaningful room.  A sacred place.  I know most people won't understand and some may not approve.  I felt the lies press against my spirit this morning as I looked at the golden walls, full of the significance of His glory and His presence, and as I began to pray He brought the story above to my mind.

It reminded me of what happened a few days ago.  A couple months back a friend of mine who I deeply trusted went through a difficult time.  And in wrestling through the direction of God in her own journey, she began to critique mine.  She judged my actions and my heart by how God was leading her in her journey.  She didn't understand that God was doing a different thing in my life.  She decided to separate herself from me, and I blessed her and let her go.  The Lord gave me much love and grace for her during this time.  (He is so good that way.) 

A few weeks ago, she called me and said, "I cannot pretend to understand your journey, but I think our friendship is worth keeping."  I knew the Lord had opened a window.  We've talked a few times since and the Lord has been doing much repair work.  She's been helping me paint the last few days (which is so great because Jean is on vacation).  Monday night we had planned on having prayer time together and that afternoon the Lord spoke to me very clearly about her earlier accusations and He said, "I want you to have her ask Me if you sinned."  We had a very special time of prayer that evening and at the end she asked me to tell her what the Lord had said to me earlier.  So I told her what she was to do.  We were quiet for some time and she got a gentle smile on her face and started to giggle.  "Do you want to know what He said?" she asked.  I nodded, but there was such an inner assurance that I wasn't afraid.  She laughed and said in a deep voice, "He said it may not have been the wisest thing for you to tell anyone about it, and that you did so because of the confusion."  And He said, "But no, you didn't sin." 
I smiled and asked her, "Can you rest in that?"  She said yes, and that it had settled her spirit greatly. 
There are some answers we can only get from God.

Isn't God faithful?  Isn't He good?
As I sat in my golden room this morning and thought about it all, I said the words that came often to my mind yesterday.  My God is the God who answers my accusers. 

Can you hear Him now? 
He says, "Leave her alone.  Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me." 
It's what happens when we do what we can...when we focus on the work of love and allow God to answer our accusers...in His time and in His way. 

Precious Lord, may You be ever present in this room in my house.
May You be ever present in this room in me.

Hillside View

A wooded area slopes off to the side

I can feel the age of the trees
They're aware of me, 
But don't seem to mind
Their quiet is loosely enclosed
Allowing the ins and outs of blue birds and time

Squirrels skitter and jump from oak to birch
Cheering the sense of reverence
Lightening it's heart with an offbeat dance,

Like children in a too-formal church.

I inhale the serenity as my eyes reluctantly close against the sun
I'm aware of the apple orchard growing around my back
The fruit would only fill half my hand if I were to grasp it now
But patches blushing red hint at the sweetness to come

A haze veils the hillside before me
Cows settle under the trees, huddling in the shade
As if they had forgotten their sunscreen
Their tails fanning pests away

I love this hill
It reminds me of my Father
But he wouldn't be sitting still on this bench like me
He would be running or riding or reiterating his point.
He thinks best when he moves--when he labours to breathe

I feel him close 
Spotting squirrels and picking apples
Memories and anticipation bring him home
And as I watch the road he loves to travel

I find myself deeply grateful

Though sometimes we wrestle, we often disagree

He loves me enough to fight for me

That is comfort for today

Sacred shade for the heat of the day

It Comes in Waves

Photo by Bgrace

I headed out to the beach the first morning we were in Bombinhas.  I walked and listened and hoped the Lord would speak.  I watched the ocean.  Finally the still small voice came.  He said this, "It comes in waves."  I didn't have any context.  I didn't know what He was referring to.  Sometimes I know the meaning of a word, or at least have a sense or a connection--but this was just naked.  I've thought about it since.  It's true about so many things.  Perhaps most true about my connection with God Himself. 
I love God.  It may come as a surprise to you to know that I recently came to that conclusion.  I guess you could say I had to redecide.  There were a few mistrials along the way and in the most recent deliberations the jury was out for quite a while.  But now I know I can say with the Psalmist from the heart, "I love You, God."
You see, I used to love God a lot.  Actually, I didn't realize it, but I loved my idea of God.  Then we started to become more personally acquainted, more intimate.  I got to know Him at a whole new level.
Then I wasn't so sure.
I mean, I knew He was still God.  Just not so sure I wanted Him to be my God.  I wasn't so sure I could love this Him.  Especially not in public.  I wasn't so sure that if everyone was walking around with team jerseys on that this was the God I wanted plastered all over mine.  Then I thought maybe I could wear the jersey but put a bag over my head so I wouldn't have to deal with the insults. (The Saints fans always did seem to follow that pattern.)  Ohhh--and what about all those times I denied that God was this kind of a God--did I have to make that right?  How could I even begin to think about that?  Could I really own Him for who He was revealing Himself to me as?  Could I accept the whole package? Did I have to go public?
This God who speaks to me, who shows me things I couldn't otherwise see, who reveals Himself in unexpected and unconventional ways, who connects me to others in ways I cannot explain or control.  This God who no longer fit my theology or followed my rules or even my understanding of His rules.  This God who so many wouldn't approve of.  Who asked the unthinkable and allowed the unpardonable.
Could I accept this God?
Could I own this God?
Could I follow in His footsteps?
Because to truly love Him I must own Him--not hide Him in some rental apartment across town like a dirty mistress.  No, I needed not to be ashamed of Him.  I needed to put His picture on the mantle, to acknowledge the revelation of Himself to me even in the midst of my uncertainty and inability to process all these changes in my understanding of Him. 
But wasn't it at least appropriate for me to protect my loved ones from this God?
I needed not to be so arrogant as to believe it was my burden to defend Him or explain Him or somehow justify Him--most of all to myself.    But then too, I needed not to hesitate to speak the truth when He called me to entrust to others what He had revealed of Himself to me.  I had to trust that He would show me what, when, and how...and that He would prepare the way.
Isn't that what it means to be a witness?
So I gave Him His rightful place in my life. I received all He was opening up to me of Himself--as best as I knew how.  I allowed it all to flow together rather than try to segment it off into all my neat little compartments. (It always bled anyway, who was I kidding?)
Then I became one.
I became whole.
And I fell in love again with the One who owns my soul.
Oh God You are my God, and I will ever praise You.
I will never know the end of You.
But I will love the journey of discovery...I welcome every wave.
And I am not ashamed any more.

Psalm 18

Favorite Things #2

Red Shoes and Yellow Dresses

Photos by M. Daddy Bruckner

Truth in Love

Photo by Bgrace

How can I put this gently

So tenderly you'll stay

To hear what's on my heart

What I'd so much like to say

A deep clean incision

A caress upon your ear

A decision you must make

To trust me more than fear

You must hold still

Though you'll want to fight

When you sense the edge of the blade

I have no anesthetic

My love will feel your pain

Favorite Things #1

Picking fresh raspberries from the backyard for breakfast.

Oh yeah...

C.

C. is a young girl that works with me.  I didn't know much about her until last week.  I knew she was serious about her faith and she has a presence about her that tells you something about her spirit.  Lately though, I've sensed the difficulty of her journey.  On Saturday night, she mentioned in passing that her junior year of college was really hard--awful actually. Then on Sunday afternoon she mentioned that her parents had divorced recently. 
Sunday was a weird wedding.  The bride and groom (and shortly after everyone else) left their reception 2 hours early.  Anyways, we had some time on our hands because it was such a small crowd.  I usually take a break around sunset time.  I don't plan it that way, but it always seems to be the time where there is a lull and I'm tired of Lady Gaga and I make my way out back.  The back door opens into heaven--the heavens more precisely.  It's all cornfield, sky and quiet.  I just go out and breathe. 
C. began to notice and discreetly she started to join me. Sometimes we don't talk much.  She's the kind of person you can sit with in the quiet and not feel awkward.  I had a sense that for some reason she just wanted to be near me, but I wasn't sure why.  But on Sunday night I felt that pressure in my spirit and I sensed the Lord had prepared an opening for me to speak.  I asked her if the reason it was such a difficult year was because of her parent's split.  "Partly," she responded.  We talked about that for a little bit and then it was quiet again.  Then she started speaking quietly and I could feel the pain in her voice.  "I was dating a guy really seriously for a few years.  We were planning on getting married and then he broke up with me...that was really hard."  "Been there," I said and thought I might tell her about E.  But before I could speak she continued.  "Then last July he was in a car accident and died."  I felt the punch in my gut for her.
I hadn't been there.  I started to sense the level of suffering she had experienced and the difficulty of understanding the circumstances and the pain the Lord had allowed her to go through. "It was like I had to go through everything all over again," she said.
"C. I do not believe that God plans out hardship for us, or causes bad things to happen to us to make us suffer in order to prepare us."  She nodded.  "But I do believe that He allows us to suffer and that it changes us and does work in us that otherwise would not be done. I sense that God is preparing you for something."  She nodded again and we both felt the weight of His presence affirming her calling. 
She began to explain, "It was just this last year that I realized God was asking me to be a missionary.  I guess I should have put it together earlier, but it wasn't until recently that it became clear."
She continued, "Then this year I took a counseling course and my teacher said that I am very gifted and need to become a crisis counselor."
It was at that moment I knew God had directed this conversation toward what I was to talk to her about next.  I told her very briefly about some of my journey.  "When the pain is so bad that you ask God to take you, that you would rather die than live, and when it lasts over a period of years and you survive that--it changes you."  The tears started their trail down her face.  I paused because the pressure on my spirit to speak was so great.  "C. I feel very strongly right now that I am supposed to speak to you about something," I said.  She nodded and I continued.
"When I first started feeling like the Lord was asking me to minister to very wounded people, I had a very strong sense that I was to create an Oasis.  A place of healing, a safe place for recovery, a sanctuary.  One day, when Rev. Mary was praying over me, she told me that though the Oasis may be an actual physical place at some point, the Lord wanted me to understand the Oasis was in me.  People would come to me for His healing.  I took that word to the Lord, but I already knew when she spoke it that it was true.  When you go through the kind of pain you have gone through in faithfulness to God, and He brings you through it, there is a sanctuary, a place of healing that He creates inside of you.  There is a spiritual power in it and you will be able offer it to others for their healing." 
"Think of it like this," I continued.  "Think of Jesus dying and going to hell.  He conquered hell, and rose from the dead to new life.  He gives us the power of the resurrection through His resurrection." 
"C., He never asks us to suffer the cross without the resurrection in view," I said.  "He will always work to bring purpose and meaning to our suffering--it is the promise of redemption."
She was taking every word in as if it were a life-saving antidote.  "I'm not saying the Lord won't lead you to get formal training of some sort.  Maybe He will."  Then I spoke with the certainty that only comes from above, "But there is a place of healing that is in you now, and you can give that to others.  You have been through hell, and you are coming out of it.  You know the way now and you can help others find it." 
We were both crying at this point and very aware of the sweet presence of the Spirit of God around us. We were interrupted by a call to join the cake cutting. 
"Thank you," C. whispered as we made our way back inside.
I smiled. "I knew there was a reason I was supposed to come to work tonight," I spoke and turned my spirit with gratefulness to the God who helps us to stay in the midst of troublesome situations and blesses us by using us to do His work.
I knew that God had used the Oasis in me to bring healing and hope to her.  I had been able to give her a glimpse of the redemption she was heading toward. 

For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness,"

made his light shine in our hearts

 to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay

to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed;

perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned;

struck down, but not destroyed.

We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus,

so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.

For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake,

so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body.

So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

II Cor. 4:6-12

B

I open my book

Turn every page

Etched in see-through tears.

"Let's not waste a one of them," I whisper
So only He can hear.

We'll pour them into Calvary's cup,

Light them with His glory,

Form them into a crystal sea

Full of love, life, and story.

Kiss the covers with blessing.

Bind them with promises kept true.

Hand it out to the one's

Who need more healing than proof.

I love you, Jesus.

I love you, my Lord.

More than ever before.

Keep me safe until You come

And sail me off to Heaven's shores.

Seeing What is Sacred

Seeing What is Sacred is the title of a book that you might find helpful if you think that this next post is a bit unusual.  (Mom--I think you still have my copy.)  It talks about how God can speak to you through lots of things--like movies.  My guess is, if you have watched The Lord of the Rings, you have some sense of how this could be true.
I would not be telling you some important aspects of the butterfly story if I did not say that I have felt the Lord often speaking to me when I watch movies.  They have helped to shape my emotions, thoughts, and beliefs about a number of things, but often they also focus my attention on a particular problem or issue and the Lord will say, "Pay attention--I'm telling you something here." 
Some of the movies that I look back on as very significant as it relates to the butterflies may not seem to be directly related to you, but they were definitely points of connection for me. 
I'll list the ones that have been most significant regarding this particular issue--you may have seen many of them. 
Patch Adams
Born into Brothels (Link)
Grand Torino
Taken
City of God (Cidade de Deus)
Lady in the Water

I have also been hugely impacted by a number of authors.  No one more than Amy Carmichael.  She was a missionary to India and helped to save children from temple prostitution.  Her writings have been special to me for a long time.  She was my Grandmother Grace's favorite author and I have many of my Grandmother's original editions of Amy's works. 
Jim Eliot, Immaculee Illibagiza (Link), and Benjamin Skinner (Link), have also been largely instrumental in this process as well.  I have had the priviledge of hearing both Immaculee and Ben speak and they both have books that are well worth reading as well.  
It seems a bit vague for me to give you these pieces instead of making the connections for you about how they shaped my vision about the butterflies, but honestly, they all just sort of came together for me one morning as I was praying.  God took the pieces and all of a sudden it was as if it all fit together and I understood the value of the pain, the darkness, the suffering, and the loss of the past years and I knew what I wanted to do.  I wanted to find a way to bring sanctuary and healing to these women and children.  And suddenly all that I had gone through seemed insignificant in light of the fact that it felt like necessary preparation for what God was leading me toward.  The Lord had been talking to me about land, an oasis, my writings, the women and children, and HEALING.  But I had no understanding of what it meant or how it fit.  Then one Sunday morning, he brought it all together. 
I'll tell you about that next.

The Men

The Fire That Consumes All Before It

Painting by Cy Twombly

From my journal, 7-3-08
"I had a dream last night.  The details are not important.  The point of the dream is that men were sexually abusing children and I could see the blood on their hands.  This is the second time I have had this kind of dream and I wonder if God is calling me.  I want to be led--not just go and do something.  So I will pray."