scaffolding

I don’t typically like change. I guess you could say I’m a sentimental sap to the core. I much prefer “the original” over the “upgraded” version. But alas, over the years, I have given in to the new fangled toys, giving up on my "originals" that may be broken, or in some cases, just aren't as spectacular as they once were.

I’ve heard plenty of rants about how we as Americans always want more, and are always looking for better - that we’ll tear apart perfectly good highways in order to have one that allows more traffic. Often times, instead of fixing something, we will just replace it… It’s just easier to replace, than to fix what’s broken – especially when it has the potential of breaking again, right? And sometimes, we just want what's new and shiny. We’ll get rid of our sedans and opt for the bigger SUV which of course, is the car of Americans. (Note sarcasm. *wink*) But I think we bypass the beauty in restoring what is "old" with this idea of getting “bigger and better”

I live in an area of the country where construction abounds… Maybe it’s like that everywhere in the U.S. It seems that everywhere there is some road, some bridge, or some building under construction. I work in the city, and so every day I take detours to avoid such construction. However, there is this one building that I pass on a regular basis. The entire building is encased in scaffolding, and when I say entire, I mean ENTIRE building. There doesn’t seem to be one piece of the building’s edifice that doesn’t have scaffolding attached to its side. I took a picture of it, which unfortunately didn’t turn out… Hopefully, I’ll have one for you soon because it’s absolutely amazing! Typically, I wouldn’t be drawn to this sort of spectacle. I mean, it’s just some old building being restored, right? However, this building is huge and is visible from many different parts in the city – it’s hard to miss. And I’ve come to LOVE this building. Any time I drive anywhere near it, I come close to a collision because I’m simply fascinated with this idea of restoration – the idea of updating the building, restoring its original beauty. During my moments of awe and near-collision, I began to think about the scaffolding. While I've come to think it looks pretty cool, to most, it makes the building look really ugly. However, I realized that it serves as a visual for the building’s future. It may look ugly for the moment, but it’s in the middle of an overhaul, about to be completely revitalized.

This thought moved me a step further. I have been writing a great deal about the church lately. I know, I know… You’re all probably pretty sick of hearing my “woes” about the church. But this is somewhat a continuation of my thoughts on authenticity. As I began to search where my hurt and disgruntled demeanor towards the church stems from, I realized that it’s due to the fact that I don’t believe God’s children have mastered the art of being authentic. The Scriptures provide us with all the ways in which we should live, and to be honest, it can be a little daunting. But instead of saying, “Hey, I don’t really measure up,” we try to mask it with the “I’ve got it all together” façade. I think we’ve become so good at trying to look already restored that we ignore our scaffolding. Plus, it’s ugly… who wants to proudly display it?

We are in a constant state of being renewed and restored – just like the building I drive past regularly. We don’t have it all together. We have scaffolding strapped to both sides, and are in the process of being renewed by our creator. We are being stripped of the old, the destructive, and all that is unwanted. We are being given back that which is missing. And yet, we try to hide the fact that we're there... that we are broken, and in need of restoration. We put sheets over the scaffolding and hide the ladders. We cover up the parts that are currently being worked on, and emphasize the parts that maybe don’t need as much work.

What would happen if we embraced it? What would happen if, like that building, we could be seen, flaws and all, by everyone – Christians and non-Christians alike? What happens if we were willing to restore the brokenness, even if we knew we might once again somewhere down the road be in the same mess all over again? What would the church look like if we allowed ourselves to be seen as a work in process?

Maybe if we were able to let the sheets fall, we might be able to be renewed together.

duck duck goose

Let me introduce you to D – a five year old with one of the biggest pouts known to man, and the most furrowed brow I’ve ever seen a little girl display. She wears this face rather often, and it’s quite a site to behold. One cannot help but laugh when seeing her disgruntled demeanor. However, I find it interesting and yet humbling that this face, her demeanor, taught me one of the greatest lesson’s I’ve learned recently.

D attends a tutoring program I help run. She started the tutoring program pretty late in the game and has only been there a couple times. Yet somehow I managed to be the one to have an interesting interaction with her.

One night, I noticed “the face.” She was sitting in the middle of the gym floor, obviously upset about something. I sat down in front of her, and inquired her about her saddened disposition. With tears streaming down her face, she cried aloud, “No one will play duck, duck, goose with me!” I held back my laughter at her seemingly ridiculous plight. I realized that to a five year old, this was serious business. I pointed out to her that there were many other children playing jump rope and basketball, and encouraged her to join. My advice was met with a strong headshake, and her crossed arms grew tighter. I told her that it doesn’t matter if we really really want something, it might just not be what we get. Obviously, this sort of advice never goes over well with small children. After realizing she would not magically be enlightened by this thought, I went with some good advice my dad gave me – let them come to their own realization. Ask questions.

I looked at D and said, “Are you having fun? Do you like sitting in the middle of the floor crying? Because to me, playing jump rope and basketball looks like a lot of fun, but I don’t know about crying. Crying doesn’t seem like fun… are you having any fun?” She looked at me as though I had just asked her the most stupid question in the world – which I suppose I had. However, it worked. Her demeanor started to change. She suddenly realized that her friends were having way more fun than she was, even though it wasn’t playing duck, duck, goose. I then asked her, “Should we make a good decision and start having fun, instead of sitting here NOT having fun?” At this point, she wiped the tears from her eyes, stood up, and determined we should play basketball.

During my drive home, I snickered thinking about D and the interaction we just had. It was then that my laughter slowly turned into a dreaded realization. I have a friend who used to ask, “Were you just hit by a holy 2x4?” Now, I realize that’s somewhat of a cheesy statement, but it was totally true in this case. It was as if God said, “Oh yeah? Know anyone else who sits on the floor pouting when they don’t get exactly what they want?”

With the holidays upon us, it’s easy for me to be saddened by the fact that I will be spending yet another holiday season single and childless. I can't wait to carry the title "wife" and I hope and pray for the day when I can finally have children to call my own (I especially hope to adopt). And for the past couple weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, I was dreading having to spend the holidays alone. I was like D, sitting in the middle of the floor, pouting, asking God why yet again, I have to do this. And this has not been the only thing on my list. There’s been my car which isn’t 100% satisfactory to me, I don’t have a place of my own, I haven't been able to backpack across Europe yet, and the list goes on. These things that are all such "serious business" to me, of such great desire, probably sound like “No one will play duck, duck, goose with me.”

Then, I thought about this: There are people this holiday season who literally have no one - no family, no friends - no one. There are people who don't have a place to sleep, or a place to eat, or even a place to feel safe. There are people who don't have any transportation, and are required to use their feet to travel many miles. There are people who haven't seen anything other than their neighborhood. When thinking of these things, my simple and somewhat lofty desires seem so unimportant.

I do not mean to say all these things aren’t important – some of them probably are. In fact, I have friends who are struggling to have children, and it is a very serious thing for them. These situations are important to God. But the lesson I learned from D went a bit further. How often do I sit with my arms folded, refusing to engage in all the great things around me just because life didn’t turn out the way I had hoped? Yes, it’s ok to desire things. Yes, it’s ok to be sad when they don’t happen. But what if I’m missing the rest of the riches God has for me because I’m don’t have what I deem as “most important”. What if God has something so much more wonderful to show me in the games of jump rope and basketball?

By no means have I moved beyond the game of duck, duck, goose that my little friend D has… I still have my pouting moments. But the 2x4 definitely left a dent in my head that will be hard to ignore.

stories

Tonight, I was able to hang out with one of my favorite kids - we'll call her K. She's a total blast, and SUPER smart. I love it when I get to spend time with her at tutoring.

We worked our way through math facts and worksheets, she did her reading, and we moved onto one of my favorite activities - writing stories. So, K and I decided we'd each write a story, and then share them with one another. For a frame of reference, K is in 3rd grade, so roughly 8 or 9 years old.

Without further ado, the stories of K & Tory.

The Mouse Who Was Lost
by K

Once upon a time there was a little animal. It was a mouse. The town name was Mousetown. He was lost in a store. He could not find his mother. His mother was a mouse too. He went to the cashier and said can you call my mother up here. Then he left with his mother. Then they lived happy ever after. The end.


Sniffles, then Giggles
by Tory

Once upon a time, there were two princesses named K & T. Both of them were very beautiful and lived in a huge palace. They had a dog named Sniffles who always had a cold. He would sneeze and sneeze and sneeze and no one knew why. One day, K and T tickled him so hard he stopped sneezing, but couldn't stop laughing. They changed his name to Giggles instead. The end.


I love stories.


(image taken from www.stickergirl.com)

kids

Recently, I have been thinking about my job and how much I love the kids that I work with. There are times where I don't know how I feel about my job, but it's the kids that make it totally worthwhile. Seriously, the times I get to interact with them are so special. I absolutely love when I get the "Miss Tory, come here I want to tell you something!" and get a whispered secret. Or a little hand that slips into mine. Or getting to read a book with them, teach them Bible verses, or just play with them. I cherish the moments I get to spend with them.

However, there are also times when it's really hard. There are times when I hear stories of how tough their loves are - the things they have to see at such a young age, the things they have to hear, experience... things they shouldn't have to face at such a young age. So many of them are asked to grow up way too quickly. And some of them don't have a lot of the conveniences we have either. I recently got ringworm - kinda gross, I know. But I was thinking about what I had to pay to treat it. Granted, it seemed somewhat cheap to me. Being without insurance, I was glad I didn't have to pay $60-80 for a doctor's appointment. However, it made me wonder how many families that I work with couldn't even afford to pay what I did for treatment, and how many kids have to go without treatment.

There are times where I find myself wanting to help them all... I want to make sure they have food to eat, good clothes to wear, and maybe even a few toys so they can enjoy their childhood while they have it. But I know I can't help them all... I don't have the means to provide for them all...

But that is why I LOVE the fact that I get to spend time with them. I love the fact that I can give them hugs, pat them on the back, and hold their hands - even if it means that I get ringworm. I love the fact that I can help them learn their numbers, their letters, how to say please and thank you, and even give them a little bit of structure. I've realized that even though I can't provide for them with tangible items, that I can love them to pieces and let them know what great kids they are.

Yay for kids.

dare

I don't really believe in omens, or signs, or any of that superstitious stuff... However, I do find it interesting that the one topic I cannot seem to get a grasp on and have been avoiding for about 2 years, has raised its head in a few interesting and significant ways this week.

The topic: Church.

My friend Joshua started a photographic community on his blog. How it works is that he comes up with some sort of topic, and then asks his readers to send him pictures that follow the chosen theme. His most recent theme was "I am the church." He is in the process of preparing a sermon about the church, and what exactly "the church" is. He writes, "I am the church. You are the church. The people are the church. The building is not the church. The music style isn't the church. The doughnuts and coffee aren't the church. We don't go to church. We are the church. We are the hands and feet of Christ." Many of his readers are from different countries, so he asked for people to submit their photos with the phrase "I am the church" in their native tongue. Pretty sweet, if you ask me.

I had missed the first photo community opportunity, and did not want to miss submitting something for this one. However, here's the irony of it all...

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to attend Epikos. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Milwaukee, or do not know what Epikos is, it's a church plant (through the Baptist General Conference) on the East Side of Milwaukee. It meets right in the heart of UWM town, and is surrounded by the "artsy" folk. I have been to this church gathering quite a few times in the past, and haven't really felt as "connected" as I would have hoped. However, I also never really gave it much of a chance. After a service a couple of weeks ago, I felt really challenged about how I so quickly brushed it off. What you must know about Epikos is, it feels VERY similar to another community I was a part of - a community that fell apart at the seams and was really hard to watch collapse. I didn't and am still not sure I want to be a part of something that feels so similar to that. However, I felt that comparison was really unfair to the Epikos community, as well as the pastor, and so I sent an email to Danny - the pastor of Epikos, apologizing for my "write-off."

Danny and I decided to meet up for coffe to discuss "my journey." While it felt a bit like a psychiatric visit, it was also really good for me to talk about my experiences in ministry, and my frustrations with "the church." I explained to him how my head and my heart have been mutilated by the things "the church" has done not only to me, but more so to other people whom I love very much. It has been incredibly hard for me to see "the church" as the bride of Christ - something that is loved and cherished by God. However, as I talked with Danny, I realized I had a lot to work through, and I had to realize that I can no longer look at "them" and say "the church" as if I'm somehow not a part of it. If I am a Christ-follower, that means I am a part of the collective "church." I cannot seperate myself from it.

As I was setting up some stuff to work on for this photo project of Joshua's, I struggled with whether or not I should even do it. Do I really believe the picture I am creating? Do I really believe that I am the church? And can I really have such anger and frustration with the people we call "church," when I myself am just as much a part of it as the next person? As I looked through the pictures I took, I really had to think long and hard about how I felt, and whether or not I could stand behind the statement "I am the church."

Then, as I was driving home today, I had an interesting experience. For those of you who know me, you know that I absolutely LOVE lightning. For whatever reason, I feel really close to God when I'm amidst a storm, and today I drove home through a pretty ugly one. Lightning and thunder, sleet and snow... It was nasty. But for some reason, I felt really close to God. Here's where we come to the "I don't believe in omens" part. I really don't believe in them, I promise, but this struck me as interesting...

I had my iPod on shuffle, and the song "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot came on. Now, I've heard that song a thousand times before. The radio stations here played it until the public finally cried "Uncle!" But tonight, I was struck with the lines of the chorus: "I dare you to move/ I dare you to move/ I dare you pick yourself up off the floor." In those words, in that moment, I felt such a strong sense that I simply need to move. I need to take that risk again, and invest in the beauty (and at times, ugliness) of those around me - the church. I need to risk the hurt, the pain, and everything ugly that comes with a bunch of broken people. I need to lean on them, and let them lean on me, even if it means at one point, we let the other one fall.

My brother once made an interesting comment to me. He said, "God can't steer the car if it's in park." Now granted, I'm not making a statement about the sovereignty of God. If he really wanted the parked car to move, he could totally do it. However, I love the idea behind his statement. God can't direct me/guide me if I'm not even moving.

I dare you to move.

I dare you to love my church again.

I dare you to BE the church.

I've still got a long way to go in this journey, but I'm now at least feeling an urge to move... Instead of staying parked where I am, dwelling in only the ugliness I see in the church, I will move forward, and strive to see past it - to see the beauty that can only come through brokeness.

(To see more of the "I am the church" photographic community project, visit www.thelongbrake.com.)

beck

As many of you know, music is a HUGE passion of mine, and I take it very seriously... However, I love it when artists are able to NOT be so serious about music, and just enjoy themselves, making music that is fun and entertaining...

Justin, a friend I met through Relevant Magazine, posted this video on his myspace blog today (THANKS, JUSTIN!). I was so unbelievably amused (as I am with most things Beck touches) and thought I'd share this with all of you. It's Beck's performance on SNL a couple weeks ago.

It made my heart happy...