Benches.

Here is my first attempt at creative writing :) but first a little background. A couple months ago, on our trip through the US, we (5 of my fellow YWAM staff members and I) passed through Sophia, North Carolina and were privileged enough to spend a few hours with the Helser family (http://www.aplacefortheheart.org/). As short as it may have been, just one night, our time with them left a lasting impression on my mind and heart. The morning we left they, Jonathan and Melissa Helser, took time to share about their 18inchjourney, one of the programs taking place on the 52 acres of beautiful backwoods land we’d stayed on. Their website describes it as “a school like no other, designed to unlock the greatness God has deposited inside you,”  and explains part of its creative vision as “A forage into the unknown depths of your own heart as you engage artistic expressions that will push you, challenge you, and draw you out.  Pursue your art with hands on experience in photography, writing, music, and poetry; explore new spaces in the recording studio, darkroom, and art studio.  Embrace an exploration of creativity the will unlock the rivers of sounds, colors, melodies, rhythms, and creativity deposited inside your heart.” There is so much more I could say about this time, but I’ve already written one previous post about pieces of it... All I will say now is that during one of my afternoons in Amsterdam I went outside to journal and collect my thoughts. I was so overwhelmed and aware, in a positive way, of everything going on around me. So many sounds, smells, feelings and things to see in one small area. As I sat, trying to take it all in, I was reminded of our time with the Helsers and their challenge to each us to explore the depths of our hearts, through language, through arts, through music, through whatever means we could think of. Explore for the sake of exploring. Allow the heart to be stimulated in ways beyond what we are used to, or comfortable with. Explore with expression of the heart your guide and motivator, rather than the pressure to produce a finished or people pleasing product. Explore the God given creativity deposited in the depths of each one of our hearts.

Let’s get personal. Yes, I majored in English. I love reading and writing, papers. I’ll write a paper and develop an argument to support whatever topic you give me, not matter how ridiculous. Seriously. But creative writing? Writing “that goes outside the bounds of normal professional, journalistic, academic, and technical forms of literature” (thank you Wikipedia for that definition...). Nope. “I don’t have that kind of imagination,” is what I found myself too often saying... Never before had I even dared journeying upon that road. Until now... I'm on a mission to redeem my imagination and creativity and so friends, it is without any further adieu, I share the first of what I hope to be one of many steps taken as I begin my own 18 inch journey, this time from my heart to this page.

I encourage you to delve deeper and access areas of your own heart previous left untouched. Forget about not being creative, imaginative, or talented enough. Close your mouth and open your heart. Forget what other people might say or think. Close out those voice and tune in His. Allow God to release the things he longs for you to embrace. He is the creator, meaning he is creative. And we were created in his likeness, meaning we also have to ability, given by God, to create. So, let’s get to it :)

Benches.

A man sits on a park bench to the right of me. Loyalty divided between a cigarette and the mouth piece of his telephone. I wonder, if given the right to choose, which of these two his lips would pledge their allegiance to.

            Empty wine glasses dance together as a waiter collects them from a now deserted table.

I sit on a park bench underneath a tall and slender tree. Its leaves verdantly boast over me of youth and life, proclaiming newness known only through the changing of seasons.

Voices unified in laugher lift themselves high into the air from the patio of the corner cafe.

A woman now sits on the park bench to the right of me. Off to the side, and away from most wondering eyes, with feet crossed tenderly before her. ....

Rhythmic streams flow from the mouthpiece of a trumpet carving paths amidst the hum of a Saturday afternoon.  

A musician strolls confidently through the crowd. A birthday song for one, a marching tune for another.  A small cup sits openly in his hand. Will you give? A talent like this cannot go unrewarded. Please.

The woman now sits in the park bench in front of me. Something drew her in, quietly pulling her from side to center. What must she see in this place?

Her eyes are turned down. An empty gaze fixes on the pavement before her. What moves behind those hollow eyes?

Hands loosely grip the small juice carton resting in her lap.

Fingers tap one, two, three times along the carton’s edge; taps too light for ears to hear, but loud enough to speak of unrest. What must she feel in this place?

The woman’s left hand moves gingerly up towards her face. A marriage vow to reveals itself. Fingers unite to adjust the scarf slipping below her chin unannounced. Up again her eyes wander, and lock on something in the distance. For just one moment she seems to lose herself in thought. What must she think of in this place?

Movement. The woman finds herself again.  Legs exchange short strides as an instrument is lowered and the musician takes his leave. Worn trumpet in hand, he makes his way from the crowd and towards the park benches, towards the woman. Eyes lock.

            Coins jingle in chorus with the casual procession of the musician’s feet.

The woman raises her head to fully meet the musician’s gaze.

I raise my head to fully meet this moment. My curiosity grows as the distance between them shrinks.

Shiny round faces catch the light of the setting sun as coins move from the hand of one to the hand of another. From the pocket to the purse. From the musician to the woman. A brief exchange, with minimal words passes between the two. Opening his backpack, in and away goes the trumpet. Standing with the musician, up and away goes the woman.

A marriage vow reveals itself.

* This came from what I was seeing and hearing around me as I journaled outside our building in Amsterdam. I had noticied this woman sitting alone and a street musican entertaining the people who were eating at the street cafe on the corner. But I had no idea there was a connection with the two until the end when he gave her his earnings and they walked off together. I had started writing about each one seperately then came to find our they were associated with each other in the end . It was a very exciting and encouraging surprise for me, and my pen, and made me wonder how many other things around me are often associated, but I never pay attention long enough to see it.  :) 

Why Amsterdam

Eli, Hales and I, live (at the time) from Amsterdam! Three things you should know about Amsterdam and a bit of an explanation on why we chose to spend the month of May together in this city. :)





**  props to Andrew York for filming this for us :)

Longing Heart : Amsterdam wk 1

All my soul is pleading for.

It's been three days since we first set foot in Amsterdam, and our bodies are still associating too closely for my liking with jet lag. I remember hearing somewhere that you should expect one day for every hour of difference in time before you may, or may not, pass over the mountain that is irregular sleep. So for us that means seven days... Almost there.

Each day we've chosen a destination and ventured out into the city. Day one took us to a cafe started by YWAM years back, day two the kitchen we'll use should we get ambitious beyond the realms of microwave or toaster oven. And today, day three, led us towards The Tabernacle, YWAM Amsterdam's prayer room quietly nestled a street over from the heart of the Red Light District.

We had plans to meet a friend of Eli's, who lives above the prayer room, for dinner and left early enough to give us plenty of time. We anticipated it would be a good little walk from where we were staying, but we didn't anticipate getting lost and ending up in right in the middle of the Red Light district. My eyes have never become as accustomed with the ground as they did today. It's interesting, no matter what you hear, nothing can prepare you for what you see. I find it hard to know how to respond to an experience like today. It seemed strangely easy to disconnect myself.

 Amidst the weight of shock, confusion, and brokenness there is an surrealism that surrounds the fact that this is "life" for so many people. Whether it be women advertising themselves in the windows or the a running the Marijuana store around the corner. This is normal. This is "another day at the office." This is life.

In between figuring out where we needed to go, and trying to keep my eyes directed away from as much as possible, I remember reaching into my purse to check my phone for the time. As I pulled it from my bag music was softly playing. Some time along the way, although it was locked, shuffle had begun and random songs were coming together to make a playlist of their own. I pushed pause, made a mental note of what song it had last been on (wanting to go back later and listen to it,) curious as whether it would apply somehow to that moment in the Red Light District. Then I gingerly tucked it away in the side pocket where it had been before.

After over an hour and a half of hunting we found our destination and spent the next few hours eating homemade Thai food, Dutch sweets and learning to play Dutch blitz. Cultures seemed to came together well tonight.

After spending most of the evening with Eli's friend we made our way back to the base in about a fourth of the time it took us to get there. Rain had just started tapping its presence against our window as walked up four flights of stairs and finally to our room. When I pulled out my phone I was reminded of the song, still on hold, from when we'd made our way out of one of that well-known sinister area of Amsterdam. The song was one I don't think I've ever listened too, even thoughI own it... Jeremy Camp's "Longing Heart" from his Carried Me worship album.

“What can separate us
From the love of Jesus Christ
Nothing this world can even change
The thought I once was lost
But now been given grace
It's a mystery that I will not chase

                                          you, you, you, all this heart is longing for
                                           Jesus, you are all my soul is pleading for

                                                                                       What can separate us
                                                                                       From the love of Jesus Christ
                                                                      Nothing in this world can even change
                                                                                       The thought I once was lost
                                                                                        But now been given grace
                                                                                        It's a mystery I will not chase

                                             I don't understand it
                                      How you love the way you do
                      Even when I've fallen
                                                   You always lift me up to you.”

As I listen to these lyrics I wonder if any of the people I passed tonight ever imagined life bringing them to this place. I wonder how many dreams were lost here, how many lives stolen, hopes dashed, and hearts deceived. But, I also am left wondering at the amazing Love of God. I wonder at the way He sees each person who works in or passes through the Red Light Disctrict just as He sees me. I wonder at how His love runs as deep for them as it does for me, and nothing can hide or separate them from that love. Oh, that one day they would know that love. His Love.

                              And oh, that one day I could learn to carry that Love. To carry His Love.

Redding, CA. Baptism

Bethel Church. A wild and crazy, joy-filled place, completely off my radar until last June that is, when I came on staff with Youth with a Mission (YWAM). This was the second to last stop on our road trip across the US. Many people I’ve met over the last year in Kona have either read book by or listen to podcasts from Kris Vallotton and Bill Johnson (pastors at Bethel), been through their internship or classes, or attended a weekend service. So, it is safe to say that even though it was fairly “new” in my world a lot had been built up about it. There were tales of miraculous healings and outbursts of joyous laughter than lasted for extended periods of time. When it came down to it, none of us knew what would be waiting for us when we got there, and baptisms were perhaps one of the last things I was expecting.

I was baptized as an infant by my grandfather LeRoy, a Lutheran Pastor whose parents emigrated from Norway when he was a small child. I had friends who were baptized in their “later” years, but beyond these two instances I, myself, had not put much thought into baptism really at all. It wasn’t that I was against either in any way. I supposed I just didn’t understand baptism well enough to create much of an opinion. More recently I’ve had friends share about it being a “public declaration” of faith and commitment to Jesus. Which is a very cool thing, but when Jesus is baptized in Matthew 3 He doesn’t any sort of declaration. Rather, when John questions why he came to him to be baptized, rather than the other way around, Jesus responds with, “Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness” (v. 15b). So that makes me wonder if there is more to baptism than “salvation” or “declarations of faith.” Another interesting thing about Jesus’ baptism is once he comes up out of the water “heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and lightning upon him” (v. 16b). Notice how it says “like and dove” and not “as a dove.” Interesting. For some reason I always pictured a dove landing on his shoulder... probably attributed to the Flying House or Super Book cartoons I watched growing up.... How amazing that Jesus talks about righteousness before he is baptized and after He is baptized he sees HEAVEN OPEN UP! WHAT!? “Um yes, I would like to be baptized please, thank you.” Yes, I definitely think there is more to being baptized that we can even know.

A few days before we arrived in Redding I mentioned something to my friend Andrew about baptism and how I since being an adult had not, but was starting to feel like maybe I should... We got into Redding on a Friday, and went to one of the services at Bethel that following evening. And wouldn’t you know it, before the service an announcement about baptisms flashed across the screen. As we walked back to our van after the service Andrew asked if I wanted to do it, and I suddenly felt all nervous about saying yes, but said yes anyway. So, it was with that same apprehension and nervousness that I stepped into a large empty chair lined room a few minutes before 5 pm on Sunday, April 10th, our last night in Redding. One of Bethel’s requirements for baptisms is an hour long informational class to help educate people more the act and meaning behind it. I sat down off to the side and slowly others began trickling in with a change of clothes in one arm and a towel in the other. It was reassuring to know I wasn’t alone. Surprisingly, the nervousness didn’t leave as the people came, perhaps because I didn’t know anyone of them. But, as I think back it was actually was a good thing, a humbling thing. I realized it’s good every now and then to feel like the “new guy” and a little unsure of yourself. I think it helps our ability to relate to others when they step into that place and we’ve stepped out of it. The class was good, helpful and freeing, and no one told me they were “worried about my salvation because I had not been baptized” (insert scene from Nacho Libre here). Publicly declaring your membership in the Kingdom of heaven, symbolically dying to death (the old life) and rising to life (new life), in Christ were a couple of the reasons they shared behind importance of baptism along with receiving the Holy Spirit. They sent around a baptism signup sheet and we all lined up along the stairs leading to the stage in the sanctuary. The sanctuary. A room filled with over 500 people. I new 6 of them. Intimidated would be an minor understatement.
As I stood on the top of the stairs, waiting to set foot on the stage before a sea of unknown faces, I remembered my heavenly Father. I remembered who I stand before first and foremost, my God and only my God. Then I got all excited, which may have been partially attributed to the thumping Rocky style music being played by the band, and stepped up with joy, excited to be the first baptized before this crowd of witnesses.

I stepped onto the stage and into the baptismal hot tub :), kneeled down and left the old behind to take on the new ahead. Coming out of the water was the most amazing feeling. Every part of me felt relaxed, and I had the most overwhelming sense of peace surround me. As I came out of the water my ears met the sounds of hundreds of fellow believers clapping and cheering me on. Regardless of all my initial nervousness I woudn’t have had it any other way.

Bethel was the last church we visited on our US road trip and I feel so blessed to have been able to share this piece of my life with this place.

Kansas City, MO. Practicing Perseverance

I was flipping through a note book of mine the other day and came across two pages scribbled with purple ink I written late one night in Kansas City, Missouri. I'd forgotten about them until now. I do have a journal that I am trying to be more faithful in using, but for whatever reason a couple sheets of college ruled paper seemed to suit me better this night. We spent four nights in KC, three of which I felt led to spend in the IHOP prayer room. For three nights I laid down something very dear to me, my sleep, and picked up something very dear to the Lord, spending intentional time in His presence. I've been wanting to develop in the area of perseverance and this was a great way for me to start. Here are some of my thoughts from night two.

Practicing Perseverance

“It is by the grace of God that I got through this last hour. 3:06 am on what is now Thursday, March 10th. This is the second night, of what I feel will be three nights, in the prayer room at IHOP Kansas City. Last night Haley and I were in here from 8:45 pm to 5 am. It started as somewhat of a joke, “We should just go to the prayer room and stay there all night!” [We had a meeting with a man, Bob Hartley, the following morning at 6:45 am, which is pretty early, and decided we should just pull an all nighter than go...].

I had planned to sleep in the afternoon to prepare for night two. Unfortunately, for a few different reasons, that didn’t go quite as expected. A 45 minute nap was all I managed to get in before more meetings and round two. It wasn’t until 10:45 pm that I got in here. But oh man was I feeling it by 1 am. “There is no way I can make it to 5 am.” Somehow, between a few bathroom runs, an outing outside in 35 degree weather, and eating an apple in an attempt to shake the sleepiness off of me, I made it to 2 am. Truth be known I dozed off a few times along the way... Not sure what that looked like, but hopefully I managed to keep my saliva in this time as opposed to other times when I apparently felt the need to share it with the rest of the world around me.

After waking up for the 5th or 6th time I was feeling pretty defeated and convinced I could not make it through the next two hours. “Just go back, get a couple of extra sleep and go at it again tomorrow night.” As I continued to wrestle with what to do I heard to word “perseverance” leave the lips of one of the singers, followed closely by “Grace to follow through... when I set my heart to obey, meet me with grace” and “helper, help me.” Haha, at first I thought “helper” was “help her” and then I was really about to explode. It may not have been “help her” but it did help me.

The time is now 4:21 and I am reminded of God’s extravagant love and the worthiness of the lamb that was slain. After this, I am beginning to believe more and more that if God calls you to do something He will give you the grace to do it. It may not be easy, but He will make a way. He is a gentle helper who cares more about my cause than I do.”

Those three days were pretty amazing, and tiring ;) But so good. If you’re unfamiliar with IHOP or their 24/7 prayer room (IHOP = International House of Prayer, not pancakes;) you can check out their online live stream that runs all day every day at: (http://www.ihop.org/Articles/1000058181/The_Prayer_Room.aspx ).

*** Also, if you want to hear more about this week in Kansas City you can follow this link have a listen to me share more about it. It was definitely a highlight week for me with too much to fit into one blog. The video’s a little long but it’s a cool way for me to literally tell you about what God did that week. So, for whoever’s interested here’s the link :) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FVFhxY8pZ_c If you watch it, thanks :) if you don’t, hey, it's ok! :)

Winston-Salem, NC. Redefining Father

“What do you see happening in the church over the next five years?” is a question Andrew, our friend and leader, often leads out with during the meetings on this trip. So, when he presented it to Matt Peterson back on that fateful day in February of 2011 it wasn’t the question, but the response which followed that struck me. And by struck I mean stuck. And by stuck I mean stick. And by stick I mean it’s been over a month and I’m still “chewing” on it. Awww yeeeas.

Our crew sat outside Krankies Coffee in Winsten-Salem, NC with Matt Peterson while cars, trains and mohawks (yes mohawks-see photo---), passed by around us. Matt, an ex-CIA agent, director of ZAO Water, pastor of Awake Church (http://awakews.org/media.php?pageID=28), and good friend of the Helsers, who arranged this hangout for us, has witnessed some pretty amazing things. A few years ago, while in Africa working on a water project, an ornery old man walked right up to him and began speaking slurs of all sorts in a dialect far from anything English. Matt, through a translator, confronted him with the reality that he was old and would die, soon, “so do you want to change?” With a chuckle as he thought back to that moment he said, “that was something I had never done, and don’t recommend it,” referring to the bluntness of his comments. The man, an African witchdoctor of high authority in that region, which Matt didn’t know until a little later, led him to his home then proceeded, under Matt’s guidance, to throw out all of the items he used for spells, along with the tokens of his power buried deep within pocket of his pants.

Within 30 minutes of their first meeting this man became a follower of Christ and was baptized. What?! After coming into this man’s home and willingly throwing everything evil out, he told Matt the same dream had swallowed his nights every since he was about 15, so around 40-50 years! In the dream he saw Matt taking hold of his head and dunking him under water. That picture penetrated the dream world into the real world as this witchdoctor received Christ and was baptized. Powerful. This story is a pretty clear testament to God going before us to prepare the way... Oh boy, now I’ve gotten off track... But that story is too incredible to share. Back to the original questions, “What do you see happening in the church over the next five years?” and his response.

The response Matt gave was not really what I was expecting. “I believe the definition of ‘who God the Father is’ is changing.” Then he went into the well known parable of the Lost Son (Prodigal Son), and shared a simple observation I, and many others I’m sure, up to that point had failed to ever notice. “The prodigal son did not know his father.” Wait... what? ............ Oh... WHOA. About half way through the parable the son is at the end of his ropes. He squandered his time and money, and reached unimaginable levels of shame. The son prepares an apology to bring back to his father, since by this point it’s the only thing he has to offer, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men” (Lk 15:18b,19), then sets off on his way back to his father’s house. In the son’s mind this was the best possible scenario he could imagine! To become a servant in his father’s home.... That was the absolute BEST possible scenario! A servant!

With his repentance speech in tongue the son makes his way back to his father’s home. The passage says, “But while he was still a long way off his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him” (v. 20b) Ok so, firstly, the father sees his returning son and is filled with COMPASSION for him. Secondly, he RUNS to him. And thirdly, he THROWS his ARMS AROUND him and KISSES him. Matt candidly pointed out that the son, after having been sent to the fields to work with pigs, for who knows how long, probably smelled anything but fresh. Yet, the father unabashedly embraces AND kisses him. And if that weren’t enough, before the son can even make it through his repentance speech the father calls the servants to bring out the best robe, place a ring on the son’s finger and sandals on his feet, and to kill the fattened cow. “Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found. So they began to celebrate” (v.22b-24). Feast and celebrate! How often do we wallow in self pity and shame before our Heavenly Father, resisting facing Him, thinking He will never, can’t ever, receive us as sons or daughters again? And there He is in the distance watching, waiting for the silhouette of the weary and humiliated surface over the horizon so He can run to us, embrace us, kiss us, welcome us, spoil us, celebrate us. Matt’s main point through all of this was that even though he had grown up in his house, the son did not truly know the father. If he had, he would have known the father to receive him as he was, filthy, warn out, dreams shattered, but still his son. This being said it’s pretty key that this parable is told by Jesus, one who has not only come from the father but is our way to know the father (John 14:9b-10). God is not, nor will he ever be, disappointed in us.

I grew up in an amazing home, and am blessed with really really solid parents. Truly incredible. But, I feel as if at some point, I don’t know when, I hardened my heart a bit. It wasn’t that I rejected God. I seemed to just turn myself off to a lot of things, many emotions being one of them, and became more guarded. So, after hearing Matt share his insight into this story, I can’t help but feel like I’ve been living in the father’s house all my life, but without truly knowing the father. I’ve known him with my mind and not my heart.

This trip has helped me towards that realization, thanks to Matt. I am learning there is so much more to Him than I even know, and there are places I can go to with him that I’ve never dreamt of. I know in addition to what He’s shown me already, there is much more He wants to reveal to me about who He really is, and He longs to bring me into a place of deeper knowledge of Him, not just as God, but as Father. I’m ready.

Sophia, NC. A Place for the Heart

After a few wrong turns, a couple correcting u-turns, and plenty of laughter we made our way up the long moonlit driveway of the Helser family. It’s hard to get a good lay of the land in the dark, but from what little I can see it looks like an amazing place. Our home for the night rests on 52 acres of land in the country side of Sophia, NC. We had planned to meet with a man named Jonathan Helser, who spent some time at our base in Kona this last year speaking and leading worship, but had the privilege of getting some time with his father, Ken, first. Let me back up a bit and explain. Amy Sollars, one of the leaders of the Fire & Fragrance School at our base in Kona gave us a bundle of envelopes each of which had a date to be opened and a mystery “task” for us to do. The first two were to find the Paul Revere statue in Boston, meet with a man named Jamey Galloway, and third, get time with Jonathan’s father, Ken Helser. I don’t know much about Jonathan, which means I knew even less about his father, if that is even possible. Regardless, what I came away with tonight was even greater than I could have imagined.


We rolled in about 20 minutes late, but were greeted warmly and led into the Helser’s elegant dining room where we sipped on tea, ate fresh coconut cream pie (a first for me), and listened closely to Ken share his past, present and future heart with us. Many things he said were so simple, but profound at the same time. More than once did the purity and depth of his heart radiate so strongly that I was moved near to tears. I have never met a man like him.



It never ceases to amaze me how God lines things up for us. On our way here today we listened to a Kris Vallotton podcast, my first, about writing your destiny and living life in a way that sets things up for those to come after us. Life should not be only about what I get to be a part of and do, but how me doing those things sets the stage for the next generation, allowing them to go even further. That, my friends, is a powerful thought. It’s hard enough for me to think about the next five years of my life, nonetheless the next 70.



These are a few of the powerful word "nuggets" Ken shared with us:

"I want to plant seeds that create orchards. So that, like in leapfrog, I can bend down allowing you to go over and further than me."

"God has never been disappointed in you. He is not surprised by our failures. He has covered them already. All of them."

"Most people have a relationsip with the Bible, not the Author. We like to be proud of our knowledge, not knowing the Author behind it."

"Tonight you have an invitation into the best seminary there is, but it will cost you everything. The seminary of life. Your professor, the Holy Spirit. Your library, 66 books. Your labratory, life. The world is your classroom... the greatest prayer you can pray is 'You get to me, God. Don't let me hide from you."

"If you wait to get what you 'need' to do ministry, you'll never do ministry."

One of the most impacting things about Ken Helser was how his life was a living example of what he spoke about. He doesn't just impress into you the importance of community, the value of family and why we need to prepare the way for the next wave of believers. He models it.

Two of Ken's children live in homes not down the road from him, but down the driveway from him, and work alongside him in a ministry called "A Place for the Heart." If you are unfamiliar with it, like I was, I encourage you to check it out their website - http://www.aplacefortheheart.org/. The more I heard the more I felt like this was a place I could stay forever. I think now would be a great time to figure out how to be in two places at one time...