walking to beautiful...and watching for God

I hadn't heard of the Fistula Hospital til a few weeks ago, but when a friend mentioned what it was, my curiousity led me to look it up on the internet. When small girls are thrust into poverty, often things get so ugly, that they are sold to husbands who are much older by parents who have reached desperation. For some, their parents never wanted them, so they grasp for the last shred of hope they have: an arranged marriage to what looks like a prosperous man. What it turns into is a glamourized type of child abuse, where ten and twelve year old children suffer sexual abuse at the hands of men who have multiple wives, concubines, and partners. These precious girls are exposed to diseases, but more importantly, often become pregnant as young as ten or eleven. Since their bodies are not ready for childbirth, these girls endure horrific obstructive labor, where the baby often dies. What the little girls are left with is a obstetric condition called a fistula, where they are unable to prevent incontinence. They become the unwanted. The outcasts. The untouchable. Imagine it.

I watched several ten and twelve year olds at church camp this week, tipping out of canoes, laughing and playing with their friends.

Across the world, there are ten and twelve year old girls huddled on dirty sidewalks. Sleeping in their own urine. Left to die an outcast, with no children, shunned by the 'husband' who proferred them such wealth and prosperity.

In Ethiopia, there are 100,000 women and little girls suffering from fistulas. There are 2 million women in the world suffering from fistulas right now. And all this is fixable. There is a hospital in Ethiopia who offers these women a simple medical procedure that will give them back their lives. Do you know how much it costs to give a ten year old her life back?

$450.00.

I was blown away. I want to be a nurse, and potentially a doctor someday. I have been enthralled by the new show Hopkins on ABC, where medical students work through the highs and lows of residency for the audience of America. And I realized how quickly our priorities can go awry. I want to be a doctor. Why? Is it the glamour? Is it because I want to help people? I heard a message from Louie Giglio recently where he asks "Have you had an encounter with Jesus? Have you REALLY?" I realized we can say all the right things...I can stream podcasts, I can read through my bible in a year. I can go to church three times a week and raise my hands in worship. But has God moved me? Has He shaken me to my core? I think that maybe He is working on it. Because when I read the stories of these girls in Ethiopia, girls who I might have been friends with when I was ten...I got uncomfortable. I got restless. I realized that if I become a doctor, I would HAVE to go to help those girls. I would have no option. That's how moved I was. My friend Daley Hake recently posted a blog about how we "are not what we do". He, a brilliant photographer, explained how he prays to be 'more than a brand', that he wants to be remembered for MORE. I want to be a nurse/doctor. But I want God to move me deep within. I want to sense His presence in the eyes of those girls as they get their lives back. I want God to overflow from me at my work. I want everything I do to be filtered through the realization that God is big enough. That I am not what I do. But that what I do must be overflowing from an Encounter with a Saviour.

So I will watch.

I will wait.

I will let God move me.

And as I sleep tonight, I will remember that across the ocean, a little girl in Ethiopia sleeps too, waiting for an encounter with her Saviour too.

Watching for God. Maybe He's closer than I think.


"God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house.
God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives.
God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war.
God is in the debris of wasted opprotunity and lives

and God is with us if we are with them."
-Bono

a picture i took, and some i definitely did not take.

i snapped this today at the field where we were working with 'wheelchairs for the world'. it came out pretty neat. natural light, heightened contrast, shot on manual setting, with black and white.

i have been so inspired by these two photographers:

mariano friginal, whose photography you can see here: www.marianofriginal.com
and mr. daley hake, whose photography is simply stunning. see his amazing pictures here
www.daleyhake.com.

one more balloon

slam. the phone hit the wall. silence. "...and i cant get away, cant get away..." i think, in my sleep deprived state, i realized what an ironic ringtone i chose. it seemed cute when i chose it, but at 645, it was downright mocking. the day went slightly downhill from there. i stumbled out of bed to answer the phone, which summoned me to work three hours earlier than i had planned. this meant that the time i had alloted for my freelance writing was now shoved back til when i got off work at 6pm. work was no better, i was rooming people in the wrong places, mixing up charts, and slowly wading through prescriptions that i couldnt pronounce. i made one very significant blunder that i caught as the doctor was in the room with the patient. i feverishly wavered between praying she wouldnt notice, and bracing myself for the moment when she did. when the door opened, i just knew i was in for it. i had forgotten a vital step of taking an oxygen level, and i was well aware that was a faux pas that was nearly unforgiveable. out came the physician...and she called me into her office. i could feel the tears welling up already. i was exhausted, clumsy, and forgetful all day, and i knew i deserved the chastisement i was sure would come. what i got was an act of mercy.

as i walked in to the office, and sat down, i felt the doctors eyes on me and i lifted my head.
i was met with a smile.
"grace...i just want you to know that you are doing a tremendous job." thats all.
with a wink, she had just done the impossible. extended Love in a moment when Law would have been expected, even justified.

i knew she had noticed my blunder, and still, she knew what i needed. rob bell tells this compelling illustration of Grace in his book, "several years ago, i conducted a wedding ceremony on a saturday afternoon in june. the bride wore a white summer dresss, the groom a white linen shirt. they insisted on the most simple ceremony possible. it was held in a park in a grove of trees. their family and friends stood in a circle with the three of us in the middle. i began with a welcome, they exchanged vows and rings, i prounounced them, they kissed, everyone clapped. the ceremony took seven minutes. they were then handed a cluster of helium balloons. the balloons were symbols of their past marriages, pregnancies they had chosen to terminate, relationships that did not last. as a picture of starting over, they wanted their first act as a married couple to be letting the balloons go. they walked into the grove of trees. just the two of them. standing in knee deep grass, exchanging words only they could hear. then they raised the balloons and let go. we watched the balloons float away til they drifted from sight.
there are moments you wonder if youll ever forget. moments that sear themselves on your conscience. that moment was one for me.

a few years later their marriage imploded.

she moved an hour away,

they divorced.

i finish with this story because life is messy. gut wrenching, risky. things dont turn out well. sometimes they dont turn out at all. sometimes everything falls apart. we're tempted to shut ourselves off, fortify the walls around our heart, and forge ahead, vowing we'll never open ourselves up again. but i have to believe that God can put anything back together.

i have to believe God that Jesus invites us to trust is as good as He says He is.
loving
forgiving.
merciful.
God does not run out of balloons."

seventeen dollar sunglasses

i squirm every time the videos come on. you know the type...sweeping orchestral background, moving portraits of children dying in Africa, villages ravaged by war and disease. they always make me so restless. i just want to pack up and move away and sell all my posessions and go save children. one of my friends had a different take on those videos though. he said "you know what those videos make me think? how absolutely depraved i am. i look at them and i dont think 'wow they have it rough.' i am blown away by the thought that...wow. look how i am living. why in the world did God choose to bless me in this way?" we got to talking about child sponsorship, and realized that the main problem with it (its a wonderful thing), but we realized its a tiny bit selfish. as Americans, as the church, we tend to like problems to go away. by tossing a check in the mail, i can appease the twinge of guilt, and emotionally 'check out' of the problem. a christian speaker once opened his talk with college students with,

"while you slept tonight, 33.000 children died of starvation."

so what do we do with that piece of information? we toss a check in the mail, we buy a "inspi(red)" shirt at Gap. we sport the bracelets, the bumper stickers, we join causes on facebook.
and still we are emotionally detached. i can look at the picture at the top of this post and feel my heart stretch to encompass that precious little boy. but tomorrow morning, my first thought will be the laundry i have to do.
that my car is out of gas.
that i had better go grocery shopping.
and kids are dying in haiti. mothers are dying in africa. kids that should be doctors and lawyers and nurses are starving to death. eating dirt.

dirt.

my friend drew summed it up with "if i sponsor a child, i know thats all i will give that child. i wont give any more than a few bucks in the mail. i cant be involved in that childs life. we are just so selfish. today i bought seventeen dollar sunglasses. i will lose them in about three weeks. and i think 'how in the world are we living like this'?"
i think we have to pray for restlessness. i never want to become comfortable with forgetting. i want to be restless. i want to be stirred. i want to always have that yearning to go. but i want to do it out of gratefulness. giving motivated from a prick of guilt is nothing. giving from a heart overflowing with gratefulness to a really big God is everything. we can still buy our seventeen dollar glasses. but i want to always walk in restlessness, propelled by the realization of the mercy of God, and the knowledge that we will never be at home here. One of my favorite songwriters, Australian Brooke Fraser wrote a song that says "Now that I have seen, I am responsible. Faith without deeds is dead."

make me restless, oh God.

"love you aunt gwace"

when i was in junior high, my name was such an embarassment. not because it was dorky, but rather because everytime anyone read a bible verse with the word 'grace' in it, i'd get elbowed and people would start snickering. unfortunately for 7th grade me, we memorized just about every mercy-filled passage in the bible. when i hit about 17, my name wasn't so bad. thankfully the laughter disappeared (along with my huge purple glasses), and i began to appreciate my unique name. it had yet to become 'hip' again, and i was one of very few grace's i knew of. when i hit twenty i realized another change my namesake presented...the Nickname. Now, my family has always called me gracey, but when my friends started tacking on the "ey", i realized that like it or not, it was bound to happen. there is just one person who i LOVE to hear 'gracey' from, and thats my nieces and nephews. to them, im aunt gracey and thats just fine with me.

a few months not too long ago, my three year old nephew benny (the cutie above), was going down for a nap. somehow, whenever i put him down for a nap, he immediately goes down without a fuss. his mom insists that he never does this at home, so im not really sure what kind of effect i have on the little guy (it could be my bossy voice), but he just grabs his blankie and snuggles down to sleep. this happens pretty regularly if i am watching him, but occasionally even the bossy voice doesnt cut it.
this particular day, i had put benny down in the twin bed in our guestroom, and the bed was about four times the size of him. i handed him his blankie and doggie and told him 'night night". well he looked at me with those huge blue eyes...and burst into tears. and when i say "tears', i mean the floodgates opened. i dont even know how he manuafactured so many tears, but the waterworks were kindof convincing. out came the 'bossy voice" and i told him again to go to sleep, and he just kept on crying. about ten minutes go by, and now he is a little upset, i am frustrated, and we are both slightly damp.
so i set him down on the bed, and since he's worn out and now REALLY tired, he snuggles down and does that really cute little sniffle thing that little ones do when they have been crying hard. and i turned out the light and went to leave, when i hear his little voice.

Love you, aunt gwace.

oh man. anyone who has ever heard a three year old's lisp combined with the words "i love you" knows their power. i went over and kissed him goodnight, and he fell right asleep. he had never called me aunt grace before. it was always gwacey or grace, when he could get the R sound right. and it struck me that our names hold such significance. look at isaiah 43:1"But now, God's Message, the God who made you in the first place, Jacob, the One who got you started, Israel:"Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you.

I've called your name. "

just like benny called my name, God calls us by name. and our response can be one of two things...we can fight it, or we can listen, ears inclined to the God who knows our name. and still i fight it, you know? i act like my timetable or my priorities are something God maybe has forgotten. i was worrying about something the other day, and my friend drew quickly reproached me with "Do you not serve a sovereign God?" Yea. I do. and He knows my name.

a place at the table

i talked to my sister last week, and as usual, she was cooking dinner, and changing a diaper and whispering so she didnt interrupt a long-awaited nap. usually it goes something like this: "oh hey grace, whats up? we havent talked in awh-hold on a sec okay? timmy just woke up from his nap...oh okay now i'm back...sorry, im trying to plan a barbeque..we are having friends for dinner..oh wait, now we are having twelve people for dinner...how'd that happen..." i love it. know why? cause with every runny nose she grabs a kleenex for, for every blankie she rescues off the floor, for every person she invites to her home...she is giving. she is probably the most hospitable person i know. her door is always open. her table never too full. not only that, my sister loves the unlovable and lovable alike. she loves her neighbors kids, who are hurting and alone, and who need a place to feel safe. she loves her home group, and has stood by her girlfriends as they have miscarried babies and sent husbands to iraq. she loves anyone who walks through her door.

rob bell says that "in philippians, it says look to the interest of others. subtle in nuance. others. its not look to the interests of those, its not look to those who are in your demographic. its not look to the interests of people we hang with, and its kinda fun to serve them. its others.

its all sorts of people. and essentially, the flow of the argument is, the one soul, one mind..you will encounter this when you serve others. if God is a trinity where one unit is a whole then you, my friends, need to be a whole. mimic this by orienting yourself around others. what paul is getting at (in phillipians), is the others are the strange, the different, the unintelligable. and some of you are thinking "oh yeah..strange...they have a name! three cubicles down!". but paul is saying is do you want to understand Gods love? Gods grace? do you want to truly understand what it means for God to envelop you with his grace, peace, forgiveness, truth and light? then orient yourself around the strange, the unintelligable, the coworker, the relative...circle around them. and in your frustration of trying to serve them well, you will see the meaning of what it means for God to love you in all your strangeness. the person who MOST gets under your skin..they may be the garment of Gods grace that is coming to you to bring you more fully into the love of God. if i could learn to take one step towards that, it will be a step into understanding what it means to be loved by God. if i could learn, maybe i would come to understand the God who loves me in spite of my flaws."

i want to open up my home. to open my heart.

to the unlovable.

to the strange.

to the unintelligable.

to the others.

most comforting...

'the most comforting thing about my faith...is I dont understand it."-drew aspinwall

conviction hurts

God likes to speak in ways that sometimes creep under my skin until I have no choice but to bleed out what little truth He is trying to convey. Like my friend Will just wrote a great blog about how he finds his self worth in people, and the "stamp" that they place on him, either "youre worth my time" or "youre not". He's totally right. I do it too.
I organize my oft-chaotic life around who I want to hang out with, people I want to avoid, and things I have to do. I. I. I. Did you notice how many times I said that? Its always about me.
God's been working hard on convicting my little heart lately. Wanna know what He's been saying?

You. Are. Selfish.

Yep.

Truth hurts huh. But truth rings true even when there is no audience. I love to dig my little heels in and, like CS Lewis says, continue "playing with mud pies" when paradise beckons from just around the corner. It dawns on me daily how absolutely depraved I am...how much in need of Gods unbelievable grace I am. I am tired of settling for a mediocre faith. I dont think God is placated with a so-so faith, like we can just be "good enough" and slide on by. I think God yearns for a ultimate faith, the kind that would be willing to be stretched until it hurts.

I want THAT.

Brandon Heath, one of my favorite singers wrote a new single called "Give me Your eyes", and I love it. It says "Give me Your eyes for just one second, Give me your eyes so I can see/Everything that Ive been missing, Give me your heart for humanity". Can you imagine what it would be like to have eyes like the Father's? To feel such compassion for others, for humanity, that it just overflows? I see so many hurting people at my job.
Lately God has been revealing some incredible things in the little medical office I work at.

I looked into the eyes of a woman whose eyes flooded with tears borne from a pain of a divorce.

I see parents who told me they spent the day in the welfare line.

I see girls whose eyes, thick with black eyeliner, tell a story full of hurt, abuse, and sadness.

Every day I have to chance to take fifteen minutes and be Love. To reach out with my stupid blood pressure cuff, and offer hope in the touch that I just pray bleeds love. But the truth is, Ill never be enough of Love, enough salt enough Light, without Christ. Because Im selfish! So I pray...


Give me Your eyes, Lord.

lipstick smudges and humanity

Putting on lipstick is something I rarely do. I am more of a lip gloss girl...I toss it in my purse and put it on at stoplights. But lipstick? Not so much. I wore some for a wedding recently, and the slick berry pigment slid on, reminding me why I dislike it so much. It's thick and sticky, and every sip of water tastes slightly waxy. But there's something about lipstick that reminds me, even amid wax-flavored sips, that I am a girl. There's something feminine, even romantic about old-fashioned red lipstick. Rob Bell reminded me of this when he talks about the experience of Colonel Gonin's experience in the Bergen Belsen concentration camps in WWII. The colonel remembers "It was shortly after that the British Red Cross arrived that a very large quantity of lipstick arrived. It was not at all what we wanted. We were screaming for hundreds and hundreds of other things...I dont know who asked for lipstick. I wish so much that I could discover who did it, it was the action of sheer genius, sheer unadulterated brilliance. I believe nothing did more for these internees than the lipstick. Women lay in bed with no sheets but with red scarlet lips. You saw them wandering around with nothing but a blanket, but with scarlet lips. I saw a woman dead on a table, and she was clutching a piece of red lipstick. At last, someone had done something to make them individuals. They were no longer merely the number tattooed on their arm. The lipstick gave them back their humanity. "

We don't think of these things unless we read about it. I wasn't in Bergen Belsen, I cant imagine the suffering that took place in those walls. But lipstick, I can envision. I can imagine being a girl in that camp, and sliding on that scarlet lipstick. I can imagine the dignity given back to the girls who had been stripped of their femininity. Isn't it funny how lipstick can be about something else? It wasnt about the lipstick. It was about the dignity wrapped up in that little tube of scarlet makeup. I think thats what life is sometimes. Its about loving people, through things that arent even about that. Sometimes I have coffee with friends, at starbucks.

It's not about the coffee.

It's about the humanity wrapped up in that tiny mocha. God uses things to show us...it's not about that. It's always about love. It's ALWAYS ABOUT THAT. Rob Bell calls it "bringing heaven crashing into earth." He says "I have a new hero. Her name is Lil and she is in her late fifties. Early in their marriage, her and her husband decided they would adopt. As they became familiar with the foster care system, they found kids nobody wanted. So they asked for the kids with the most pronounced disabilities, the most traumatic histories. So they have raised over twenty children. When Lil got to this point, she reached down and patted her daughter and said 'this is Crystal. She is 27 years old, but will be about six months old for the rest of her life. She cant walk or talk or move or do anything by herself. She will be like this forever. And I love her so much. My family cant imagine life without her. She makes everything so much better.' What is Lil doing? She is bringing heaven to earth. Instead of labels like 'invalid", 'reject', or 'invalid", Lil sees only 'human'. She has only one response. Love. It makes all the difference"."

See? It's about that. When I go to Starbucks (which, I have realized, is the stomping grounds to learn real compassion for strangers. I am pretty sure God planned it that way. We may think we are just getting a frappachino, but we are really getting a lesson in Love, Jesus style.) There is a guy there, named Downtown Dan. Im sure that Dan has been the brunt of many jokes, and many stabs at his often-funny antics. I have been the producer of such thinking, I admit. But my friend Will captured a moment a while back, a moment captured with film, that changed my thinking about Dan. It's the photo at the top of my post. Look closely, he's reading a book called "crisis".

I dont think the book was about anything really important, but its not about that.

I love that photo. It moved me to tears. Because here is the resident homeless man of Medford, reading a book called Crisis. I hope it hits you as hard as it hit me.

Who has given him his humanity back?

Who has brought heaven crashing into his hell?

Who loves him?

See, like Rob Bell points out, there are "moments when the "enemy" becomes just like me. When a soldier becomes a son. When a prostitute becomes a mother. When they become we. When those become us. When he becomes me. Moments when all the differences dividing us disappear. We are faced with the fact that we are humans. In this together. Marine. Iraqi. Orphan. Family. Pastor. Prostitute. We could be them." I'd add: Middle class college student. Homeless Man.

Them becomes We.

Lipstick hands back dignity.

A handshake to a homeless man gives him back his humanity.

Thats what Love is about.

Its' not about the coffee. or the lipstick. It's about bringing heaven crashing into earth.

Maria Sue Chapman May 11, 2003- May 22, 2008

stop and search

the artwork above and the title artwork in my blog is from an artist named banksy. you probably haven't heard of him, mostly because no one actually knows who he is. he paints his murals (graffiti-style) in the dark on the streets on London, and only his art dealer knows his true identity. His evocative pieces poke fun at commercial American, including a child being dragged away by Mickey and Ronald Mc Donald, and tons of rats on a red carpet holding a sign that says "it is not a race". it is modern art at it's finest, with hard hitting pieces that will hit you at your core, and some that will simply make you laugh.

I have recently picked up the book "Lord Save Us from Your Followers", by Dan Merchant, recommended by my friend Matthew Turner. It is a social commentary about the views the world has about Christianity as a whole, and it asks the question "Why is the gospel of Love dividing America?". In it, Merchant sets out to set the nation on fire, by asking questions some of the church would rather not ask. In perhaps the most poignant chapter, called "confession booth", Merchant invites homosexuals to dialogue with him about the way Christians have treated them. It will make even the most stout republican cringe. He DOES NOT condone the behaviour, or insist it is not sin, but rather apologizes on behalf of the body of Christ for forgetting to love the people God has called us to love. If we are truly overflowing with the love of Christ, then it cannot be exclusive.

He says

"Gloria's round face quickly dissipated my apprehension. "This is my first time in a confessional, so I thought I would confess." I managed with a nervous laugh. "Okay", she said with smiling enthusiasm. I took a deep breath. "I'd like to confess on behalf of the church, a church I love and am a part of, for letting you down, in light of what Jesus has done for us...which is to love one another. our church hasnt done that, and I havent done that." I said in a steady voice. "Oh!", she exclaimed, "Apology accepted". "Next I'd like to apologize for pretty much ignoring the aids crisis." I heard my smooth baritone roll on. I was quickly becoming a spectator to what God was doing here. "Not only did we ignore the crisis, but we cast condemnation on thosewho were hurting and dying. So I'm sorry for that too." "You;re forgiven", my new friend whispered with a nod. "Thank you", I squeaked. "Lastly, I want to apologize for not living up to what Christ has taught me. I'm to show compassion and not judge, the bible says "He who is without sin cast the first stone", and my sins are numerous. I apologize for all the people I have driven away frm Jesus' love through my poor example. I'm sorry." A hot tear streamed down my cheek. "Absolved. You know, Dan, one of the things that kept me from becoming a Christian was being treated so poorly by Christians. And though I am not a Christian, I appreciate the words you are saying to me today". " -Confession Booth, LORD SAVE US

What does this have to do with mystery artist Banksy? Because the title of his piece above is 'stop and search'. I think Dan Merchant got it right. He stopped and searched. He dug down deep. He reached out where Jesus called us to reach. He didn't condone, but he loved.

Stop. and Search.

put your left foot in...

I have read all of Matthew Turner's books, and they have evoked lots of tears...and lots of laughter. But until Hokey Pokey, they never evoked the curiousity and wonder that I am pretty certain my friend Matthew intended. Well written and intruiging, Hokey Pokey seeks to offer my generation a freedom to follow the oft-intrepid path of God's purpose for our lives. Chock full of Matthew's signature wit, this time the book follows in the trenches of storysmiths Donald Miller and Rob Bell by invoking Matthew's newly honed storytelling skills. Before you know it, you will have read another chapter, unaware you just might be learning something abut yourself, about God...while reading a simple story. Perhaps it's because we identify so well with honesty and community that when we hear stories, instantly we connect. Matthew skillfully draws his reader in, even moreso than previous works, by appealing to our natural curiousity, by simply telling the stories of other "curious people". For those looking for a cut-and dry manual to finding God's purpose for their lives...dont waste the 13.99. But for the rest of us, people eager to put effort into life and "shake it all about", then pick up Hokey Pokey with the realization that there is no formula to find the perfect purpose, but rather it's how you live your life and use it to the glory of God. so go ahead. Put your left foot in. All the way.

the kite runner

for those of you looking for a good book (all five of you reading my blog, that is), please pick up the kite runner. however, if you are looking for a sweet, happy ending this is not the book for you. for readers seeking a sweeping, evocative portrait of a country at war, for those of you who are willing to be uncomfortably jarred out of middle America, this is the book for you. there is a beautiful movie of the same name, based on tbe book, but its well worth it to read the book first. the movie is well-made, impeccably cast, and painfully raw.

another great movie i have seen of late is "bella", another foreign film, also very moving, and tinged with a realistic pro life message. camera work is brilliant and the storyline is deceptively simple.

both breathe plots seeping with redemption, forgiveness, and true compassion. what does it mean to be a friend, what does it mean to love someone?

how far will love go to seek and save? be reminded how far Love went for His friends.

spirituality of the cell phone

I recently heard a talk by Shane Hipps on a podcast from Mars Hill Bible Church. He was talking about how we are so quick to use our cell phones to communicate, and it will never really replace real relationships. Now, I am preaching to myself here...I text people ten feet away! I am constantly "talking" with text messages, carrying on full conversations with just a few taps. But I have come to realize what Shane was pointing out, that it will never replace our need for fellowship. And as Christians, and as a church, we are made to be communal. Our hearts thrive on fellowship, and community. And the cell phone can actually enable us to become distant and detached from people we should be face-to-face with, by enabling us to skip the conversation and get right to the message. A friend of mine once said "I love texting, because you can just skip right through all the 'how are you's' and just say 'meet me at 7'." At the moment, I thought that was accurate, even correct. But I have changed my mind.

A friend of mine recently lost her dad. I found out the same day it had happened, and I was going out the door to have coffee with another friend. Instantly, I thought 'I need to be with her" and the next thought was "Are you kidding? What are you going to say?". Fear crept its way into my thinking, but I knew I still had to go see her. So I swallowed hard and chose some flowers at Safeway to take by. The whole way over, I was fighting God. How dare He call me to go see her. I was so inadequete. I was tongue tied just thinking about it. How do you go comfort your twenty year old friend, when she has just lost her dad? I had hardly recovered from the shock of his death, and was in no way equipped to extend compassion or love to her. My well was dry.

But God's grace is sufficient. He overwhelmed me with extra grace and love. And when I knocked on the door, I found no words were even needed. I opened my arms, and we cried.

It was enough.

Shane talks about a similar incident in his podcast, and he notes "How do you say that with a cell phone? Just heavy breathing? A blank text message?" No. You cannot substitute community for technology. Never will a text message telling me "meet me at 7" substitute for crying with a friend who needs open arms, not an open cell phone.

So dont let the cell phone become a voice. Often extending my faith to my friends means shutting my mouth and moving my feet. Being love, being compassion. Often it means shutting my phone and getting in my car and going to meet a hurting girlfriend. Or having honest dialogue with a non christian friend.

So I'll continue to text. But when God calls me to reach...I'll hang up.