Ever hear the joke about the guy who was trapped in a flood and prayed for God to rescue him?

Two guys came by in a rowboat and offered the guy a ride, but he declined, preferring for God to rescue him.

Somebody came by in a powerboat and offered to rescue the guy, but he declined, preferring for God to rescue him.

Finally, somebody came by in a helicopter and offered to rescue the guy, but he declined, preferring for God to rescue him.

Eventually, the guy drowned. 

In heaven, he turned to God and said, 

"I prayed. Why didn't you rescue me?"

 To which God responded,

"I sent a rowboat, a powerboat, and a helicopter. What more did you want?"

I had a conversation just like that with God, this week.

I'd promised somebody I'd give a workshop on how to witness to children...even though I had no clue where I was going to find the time to put such a program together. 

Someone, who already prepared and presented just such a workshop, offered to handle the whole thing for me...before I even asked.  Fifteen minutes and three phone calls later, all of the logistics were ironed out, too.

I've been dreaming of having player and team pictures as part of the awards ceremony for this new soccer league. Somebody called and offered photography services...before I even asked.

And, so, as I was driving home one day this week, I turned to God and asked whether or not he really wants all of this stuff (the children's ministry and soccer program) to happen. Then, in my ADDness, I got distracted from praying and just sort of left the question hanging in the air.

No sooner had I walked through the door at home when my phone rang. It was a sign company offering me 'a trailer-full' (their words, not mine) of scrap, self-adhesive vinyl.

Less than four hours earlier, I'd envisioned making our own banner signs by having volunteer youth groups trace corporate logos and other stuff onto self-adhesive vinyl which we'd then stick onto blank banners and install into our homemade banner systems. I'd had the fleeting thought that it'd be great to connect with a local sign company in order to acquire their scrap vinyl. 

Now, I had a company offering everything I could have ever hoped for and more in terms of self-adhesive vinyl.

It was as if God was saying to me, 

"I sent a workshop, a photographer, and a trailer-full of self-adhesive vinyl. What else will it take for you to believe?"

As I ran the numbers on what it's going to take to run a soccer league for 300 children, I came up with the answer to that question...about $60,000.

Personally, I have $1.78 and a stack of bills to my name at the moment.

If he really, really wants this thing to happen, he's going to have to provide the personnel and the resources to make it possible...Because I am so far out of my league, it's not even funny.

If God's strength is made perfect in weakness, this is going to be one incredible show...because, all I've got is weakness at the moment...oh, and a little bit of pocket lint.

Somehow, I don't think God really needs the pocket lint.

Peace,

~Beth

This week I sort of volunteered, sort of inherited a project. I've been given the go-ahead to simply go-ahead and run as the League Director for a soccer program in the inner city neighborhood which surrounds the church where I now worship.

What a fabulous opportunity!  I am in waaaay over my head.

But, you know, as I looked at the printed version of flyers I'd designed today...in both English and Spanish...I was just amazed.

God is able to put just the right people together in the right order at the right time...to make amazing things happen...and I'm watching those things unfold before my very eyes.

It's been a fascinating week. It's been an exhausting week....and it's only half over.

I got to see an enormous warehouse, yesterday, where items are sent all over the world to meet people's needs. I walked away with eight cases of items for the children's ministry at my church.

I moved almost 2 pallets worth of cases weighing anywhere from five to 50 lbs each in order to select the items to be used in this ministry.

Once I loaded the items into my car, transported them to the church, and then unloaded the cases, and moved them to their temporary storage location, I was beat.

There was so much pain and exhaustion oozing from me that I couldn't even remember the name of the piece of furniture on which I'd placed my cell phone (it was a sofa). I crashed. It wasn't pretty. 

I slept for several hours and then slept for several more. I was supposed to go to physical therapy this morning, but I'm told that I need to start taking steps to take care of myself. Cancelling my physical therapy appointment and going back to bed was a significant step in that direction. 

And, although I intended to sleep most of the day, I got involved in working on wonderful projects again today. Every time I attempted to rest, there was something more that I could do....and so I did. A list, a brochure, a flyer, a phone call, a conversation, and email, some research...task after task after task.

At the end of the day, I'm exhausted, but it's a wonderfully, satisfied tired on the back of a very long day.

Tomorrow will bring another round of things that can't wait to be done, but tonight, I'm going to sleep...tired & happy that the day is done.

Peace,

~Beth

Some days the voices are louder than others. Some days a lowly hummed whisper; some days a chant that rivals the loudest crowd. 

You are not good enough.

You'll never be good enough. 

You're not perfect.

You're in waaay over your head.

Some days I want to just curl up into a ball, pull the covers back over my head and cancel the day due to lack of interest....and the desire to believe the voices.

But, then there are the days I can answer them in total confidence.

I'm beautiful in the eyes of my Creator.

His strength is made perfect in my weakness.

Sure, I'm definitely in waaay over my head...but that's okay...because that's what makes life fun...discovering what and how and where to do things along the way.

So, today, I can tell the voices in my head to just 'HUSH!'

I'm too busy to listen to you...and I have some wonderful things to accomplish today.

Peace,

~Beth

I totally stole the post for today's blog...mostly because I think it's something that needs to be said.

Lots of people have asked what my thoughts are regarding the issue of gay marriage. Given the news coverage, it's hard to get away from the subject. I actually shared my thoughts on the issue a few months ago (True Love & Ending the Debate), but I think this author sums it up quite eloquently:

'Let them eat cake.'

That’s what she said.

It wasn’t out of malice or even hard-heartedness that Marie Antoinette supposedly uttered these now infamous words, but out of a barnacled ignorance that grows and eventually blinds all people who live in positions of advantage for extended periods of time…

Entitlement.

Marie suffered from the same blindness that American Christians suffer so greatly from today:

We actually think we’re the oppressed majority…
We actually think we’re under attack…
We actually think people are waging war on our values…

We’ve become accustomed to our particular Christian values being the exclusive values of the United States of America. We’ve lost sight that the same people we’re convinced are waging war on our bastions of society (or morality) are, in fact, our co-inhabitors of this country who are equal inheritors of the words of our founding fathers.

These are not peasant rabblers at our gates trying to take “our” country.
These are not gays and immigrants trying to loot “our” ideals…
These are not occupiers, socialists and anarchists who simply hate “our” politics.

These are US citizens, made in the likeness and image of God.
And how we choose to respond to them, says more about us than them.

It’s odd when I look back on history and see stories such as the French Revolution. I’m so often struck at the blindness of the entitled population to the climate of the time. There is a cyclical struggle where entitled people really do feel that they are being oppressed and “kicked-out” of being able to participate in society. I often hear this fear rise-up from many of my conservative Christian friends, but I gently remind them of this:

You’re not being oppressed.
You’re being asked to be inclusive of others.

You’re not being kicked-out.
You’re being asked to share the rights and liberties that you now enjoy.

I realize as I’m watching current events unfold that it’s difficult for a segment of Christians to recognize this because we’ve become so entrenched that we own the exclusive right to dictate terms to others in our society, and anyone who challenges this exclusive right is obviously oppressing us! We’re uncomfortably comfortable demanding other faiths, oriented people, races, and genders obey our specific personal brands of Jesus, which sadly, violates the very pattern of humanity Jesus shows us.

I have big news for everyone…

We’re all witnessing, before our very eyes, those days racing toward a very swift culmination. The days when Christians dictate all the terms of engagement in society by crafting all the laws to reflect our specific spiritual practices are coming to a quick end.

Society has shifted under Christians feet, but many of us have yet to realize it.

In twenty years our children will think it is strange that gay people couldn’t get married, just like I think it’s strange that my black friends couldn’t eat at the same counter as me, or that I could actually buy one of my black friends just 150 years ago! In twenty years it will seem normal that Christianity is just one of several perspectives in the civic (and civil) discourse.

In twenty years almost every Christian will understand the rights and importance of being inclusive of our LGBTQ neighbors. Think I’m crazy? Try finding an older Christian who will admit that they rallied against Martin Luther King, or that they voted against women being given the right to vote.

Christians cannot delay the inevitable.

Now please, understand that this is not a threat, or some literary shot across the bow to my fellow Christians…this is my desperate attempt to help you realize that entitled groups (who naturally exclude those who are not like them) only flourish for so long. Let me be abundantly clear, this has nothing to do with personal belief! Christians have the right to hold onto their beliefs regarding gay people, or women, or politics or birth-control…but we’ll need to let go of the idea that we, American Christians, have any right to pass laws that force others live under our moral code.

Because, and I want you to hear this, current “rights” issues are not about gay people. Just like its wasn’t about black folks, or women years ago. This is about us and our entitlement. The conversation surrounding gay marriage is exposing the issues barnacled onto our hearts…just like the peasants need for affordable bread exposed Marie Antoinette’s perspective.

There is one common ending for groups who resist loving their neighbor as themselves, refusing to be inclusive of others, and stubbornly entrenching themselves as the sole keepers and scribes of all social norms, laws, and liberties for as long as they can…

They eventually all suffer the fate of Marie Antoinette.

So, let me take a few final words and implore Christians to re-imagine with me a new ending to this cycle we find ourselves in. I’m re-imagining an ending where Christians choose to live out the teachings of Jesus and pro-actively include others who differ from them, even loving them without agenda. I’m re-imagining a new beginning where we move beyond ‘us and them’ and finally see the world the Way that God sees it, with only an ‘us.’ Let us each be determined to shake off the scales of blindness, and realize  that there is no cake for some in the US to eat. Finally, let us steadfastly work together toward a bold new world that Jesus will be proud to come back to where He finds His followers no longer trapped in proving that we are right, but in every moment…

Proving that we are love.

—–

And those are my thoughts, exactly!

Peace,

~Beth

Jimmy Spencer Jr (@jimmyspencerjr) is the founder and CEO of Love Without Agenda and author of Love Without Agenda: Moving Our Spiritual Goalposts from Heaven & Hell to Wholeness. He’s just a good guy trying to change the world—and himself—one act of love at a time.

Today's post stolen from http://www.redletterchristians.org/let-them-eat-cake/

I spent the last two days in class for my latest enumeration project.

The first day resulted in my doodling all over the day's agenda. The pictures ranged from a compass to sea monsters to a tropical island to grain, corn, and a scarecrow. I was bored out of my mind within the first 47 minutes of class and was seriously practicing my deep breathing, relaxation techniques. 

The day did actually get a little bit better after that, but by the end, I was again frustrated by many of the people in my class who....just don't get it. Some of these people were so lost that we wonder how they actually manage to make it through the rest of their lives...let alone manage to remain employed.

That evening, I attended an 'employee appreciation dinner' in which I was required to pay for my own meal. That certainly doesn't go a long way to make me feel appreciated.

Anyway, in recognition for having continued to work for the organization for an entire year, I was given a logo emblazoned messenger bag. In recognition for simply being an employee, I was given a logo emblazoned lunch bag. In recognition for having worked more than 500 hours last year, I was given a logo emblazoned golf umbrella. 

(Uhm, thank you, but I never bother to use an umbrella...let alone one the size of a golf umbrella. Sigh.)

Neither the night before nor last night did I manage to get much sleep. This morning, I completely abandoned the effort at 4:00 a.m., after having tossed and turned for about five hours. At that point, I got up, showered, dressed, and went to work on my laptop so I could at least claim to be productive through the night.

Oh, how I was annoyed.

I was irritated by the little annoyances from the previous day's class. I was irritated about somewhat useless employee recognition 'trinkets' and how I really could have benefited from receiving cash instead of 'stuff' I really don't need. And, I was irritated over a somewhat misunderstood comment someone made the night before. 

As much as I tried to quell my general irritation once I received a better explanation of the previously misunderstood comment, going back to class today just added fuel to the already flickering flames.

It didn't matter that I'm paid to attend class. I was simply not in the mood to be there. It seems we 'learn' the same ridiculous material over and over again.

If these farm surveys always include some of the exact same questions....then why do we have to go over those same questions every time we have class? 

During all of this already irritating day, there was a woman sitting behind me wearing a tiny set of wind chimes as a necklace. Every time she moved, they made a high-pitched, metallic tinkling noise.

Hanging in a window and hit by an occasional breeze, the wind chimes might have been pleasant. Hanging four feet behind me and sounding almost constantly for three hours on end, I felt like I was being subjected to my own personal, dog whistle. What's worse is that nobody else seemed to be able to hear them but me.

When I (somewhat) jokingly admitted to the woman that her chimes were driving me nuts, she responded by telling me that she always wears them when she goes away from home becausethey bring her peace and serenity and allow her to remain centered.

Frankly, I wanted to center those chimes right in front of her as I used the cord on which they hung to choke the living daylights out of the woman!

And, so, I was annoyed...by the stupidity of the material, by the stupidity of the people who failed to understand the material as it was reviewed for the gazillionth time, and by those oh, so annoying wind chimes!

Towards the end of class, someone made a comment which revealed that this part-time, intermittent job will be even more intermittent than usual given that there are no more major projects for the rest of this calendar year. This wasn't even an actual announcement...it was more of an aside, which was not at all pleasant news.

No more projects means no more work...and no more work means no more income. It also means that the money I attempt to earn in the next month will have to last for the rest of the year. Try as I might, I can't see how ends can possibly meet on a financial string that is so incredibly short.

And still those blasted wind chimes made their noise.

When I finally escaped for the day, I drove home on the interstate during rush hour. After about the sixth time traffic in the passing lane went from 70 mph down to 40 mph without warning, I decided that I needed some serenity and centering, so I turned on a CD and went directly to Track 4 in order to sing along.

• "Great is Thy faithfulness!" "Great is Thy faithfulness!"
    Morning by morning new mercies I see;
  All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—
      "Great is Thy faithfulness," Lord, unto me!

Recently, when I was complaining about the fact that written prayers have always seemed so hollow and so much like 'vain repetition', someone told me something I'd never heard before. I don't know if this is an exact quote, but I'll repeat it to the best of my understanding: 

Say it until you pray it. Pray it until you believe it.

And, so I repeated the song on the CD as I drove, over and over and over again.

Great is Thy Faithfulness. Great is Thy Faithfulness. Great is Thy Faithfulness.

Do I really believe that?

Wow. I don't know if I do. And, the tears began to stream down my face.

But, if I sing it enough times, it does become a prayer for me...something I really do want to believe.

And, as I continued to pray it and desire to believe it with all of my heart, I felt myself beginning to calm down. As I calmed down and slowed down my breathing, it was suddenly okay for me to not drive fast and angry and to move over to the next lane, setting my cruise control to a slower speed.

As I concentrated on the words of the song and began to believe in God's provisional abilities, I felt an amazing sense of peace which also allowed me to finally come down out of the sense of urgency and adrenaline in which I've spent most of the past two days.

As I allowed myself to fully experience just how tired I am, I got home with the full intention of taking a nap.

Naturally, that didn't happen. I walked into my bedroom and realized I'd left my pillow at the hotel this morning and then, when I went to call the hotel, I realized I left my cell phone in the car. Instantly, my irritation levels hit the roof again as I lost all of the peace I'd worked so hard to achieve.

I retrieved my cell phone from the car and made arrangements to retrieve my pillow from the hotel and then sat down to read my email...in which I received another reminder that God's faithfulness is great...and that his provision abilities are, indeed, infinite.

I won't become a millionaire overnight, but, if I remain trusting and patient, he will provide and enable me to minister in every way my heart desires. 

Now, if only I can remember his great faithfulness the next time I'm subjected to extended torment by tiny wind chimes, I'll really be in great shape!

Peace,

~Beth

© 1923. Ren. 1951 Hope Publishing Co., Carol Stream, IL 60188
www.hopepublishing.com
All rights reserved.  Used by permission.

Source: http://www.hymnal.net/hymn.php/h/19#ixzz1uPWcALac

Of all the things I do well, I seem to have a great deal of difficulty just being me...and acknowledging all of my personal abilities.

Last week when a woman thanked me for being there and taking care of her in an emergency, I just looked up at her and quipped, "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time," essentially dismissing her comment and gratitude.

Last week I also had to sit through a number of student sermons on a day when I was emotionally drained and exhausted. I warned the speakers that if I were to fall asleep, it was nothing personal. 

We were given evaluation sheets to fill out for each speaker. In attempt to keep myself awake, I resorted to my old, stand-by method of concentration...focused doodling. The person was talking about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. I started thinking about water and before I realized it, I'd doodled a pitcher with a towel that was hanging over the edge of a table and a basin of water on the floor next to it. 

The little drawing no more than two inches square only took a couple of minutes to complete, but when my classmates and instructor saw it, they reacted like it was some sort of prized Picasso. The speaker to whose sermon my doodling applied seemed to want to take my comment sheet home and frame it.

As we exited the classroom for break, the instructor leaned over to me and said, "You're an artist, too, aren't you?" I shrugged my shoulders a bit and said, "Well, sometimes, those things just sort of slip out."

In my counseling session, yesterday, we talked a lot about my inability (or unwillingness) to acknowledge my pain until I've reached the point of not being able to function...or total collapse. Her advice was for me to create a pain log for which I take regular, conscious inventory of my pain AND WRITE IT DOWN, acknowledging the existence of my pain. It's legitimate. It's real. It's part of me...just like everything else that's a part of me.

Yes, actually, I am an artist. I've been paid for my artwork in the past. People have seen it, liked it, and offered money for it. (Shocked the heck out of me at the time, but, I've even done commissioned artwork.)

Yes, actually, I am a musician...and have been paid for my efforts there, as well. I play the flute these days and I sing.

Yes, actually, I am a writer. I was a journalist for a few years...and loved it. I'm a published poet. People read my stuff and laugh or cry with me. I am a storyteller.

Yes, actually, I do have two graduate degrees. I hear other folks talk about people who have two graduate degrees with a sense of awe. To me, they're just pieces of paper.

I've been a radio DJ. I'm an EMT and am certified to (and DO) drive an ambulance the size of a dump truck.

I can design newsletters or make delicate beaded jewelry that earns compliments from total strangers.

I can coordinate every detail of a conference for hundreds of people or run a crafts' program for 80 kids at a time. The size of the challenge makes no difference to me. I will get it done.

There are a whole mess of gifts wrapped up in this person of me; but, if you come up try to compliment me on any one of them...or all of them, I'll deflect your comments as if I was having some sort of out-of-body experience at the time and the event in question happened purely by accident.

All my life, I've been deathly afraid of committing the sin of 'PRIDE'. Yet, in my unwillingness to acknowledge that all of these God-given gifts are a part of me, I've essentially been denying who I really am. Perhaps unlike 'pride' where I'd laud my gifts over someone else, maybe I can simply learn to celebrate the vast array of talents and abilities I've been given.

Some days I wonder why, despite the fact that I'm willing to accept anybody else...no matter how unloveable that person may be, my biggest problem trying to accept...myself.

Maybe simply acknowledging that issue...like acknowledging my pain...is a step in the right direction.

Peace,

~Beth

I was on a mission last Sunday. I arrived early with plans to charge up my laptop for use in my afternoon class and then I got involved in some paperwork. Busy, busy, busy.

I glanced at the old lady sitting on the leather chair in the entry way. I thought perhaps she'd stopped to catch her breath before continuing on to the sanctuary. I smiled and greeted her as I walked by but paid her no more heed as I went about my business. Busy, busy, busy.

I saw her reflection in the glass of the office door. It seemed odd that she continued to sit there when the service was about to start. I figured that I'd go and check on her when I was done with my other stuff. Busy, busy, busy.

Other people beat me to my best intention and came to talk to me as if I were someone official, as I stood there in the church office. "She's crying," they said.

I was suddenly torn between my need to finish my paperwork and a feeling of obligation to talk to this woman. I didn't know her. I honestly didn't even know her name. I'd seen her once before and noticed her angry, stubborn persona. I'd also noticed other distasteful characteristics about her. And, at the same time, something within me was drawn to her.

I didn't act on my intuition the first time I saw her because my shyness still wins out most of the time.

But, this time, people were actually looking to me to assist her. And, so I went to talk to the woman. She'd just tripped and caught herself on the railing, somehow hurting her arm in the process. 

The EMT training took over as I carefully removed her blazer and examined her shoulder. I didn't see any obvious swelling, but she was obviously in pain. I thought about offering her a ride home, but I didn't like the way she grimaced when she moved her arm. Instead, I quickly collected my belongings, bundled her into my car, and made the trip to the closest emergency room, stopping at her home only long enough to collect her insurance cards.

She put on a brave front when she insisted I park and we walk together into the hospital instead of allowing me to get a wheelchair for her. She held onto me for dear life as I walked, bent over, to facilitate her balance.

Tears of fear streamed down her face when she begged me not to let them keep her. They'd kept her husband, just a few short years earlier, and he never did make it home. In the midst of her pain, trauma, and the fear of losing her independence, her grief for him became that much more acute.

At one point she turned to me and said, "Don't ever get old."

And, at that point, I cried with her. My grandmother used to say that to me all the time in her last moments of lucidity. I told that to the woman as we sat in the Emergency Room last Sunday. I said that I used to think my grandmother was joking. The woman knew exactly what my grandmother meant.

I sat with her in the ER and quietly wiped away her tears before brushing away a few of my own.

Once the x-rays were read, the doctor told her that her arm had broken in three places. She was discharged with a sling and instructions to follow up with an orthopedic surgeon some time this week. I got her prescription filled and made sure she was settled in at home before running off to my afternoon class. Busy, busy, busy.

I was physically and emotionally exhausted more than any time in recent memory...but I persevered and went back to check on her as soon as I could that evening. I helped her change clothes and refilled ice packs for her to use on her arm.

We exchanged telephone numbers, she insisted that she was fine, and I went out for a walk, all the while berating myself over all the things I should have done for her...but didn't.

She ended up going back to the ER that night and I berated myself again for not having done enough. I wanted to be there but hate the fact that there doesn't seem to be enough of me to go around.

She called to thank me today, but I was in the middle of a conversation when she called. I let it go to voicemail intending to call her right back. I still haven't listened to her voicemail and have actually set an appointment so that I'll remember to call her back tomorrow morning. I've bounced from one thing to another all day long and still hate the fact that there aren't enough hours in a day and there doesn't seem to be enough of me to go around.

Where does the balance lie between loving others and loving myself? We're instructed to love others as we love ourselves. But, if I do a lousy job of taking care of myself by not bothering to rest until my body literally shuts down (like it's been doing quite frequently as of late), doesn't that translate into doing a lousy job of loving others?

Yet, how can I accurately measure my ability to love others when some people are so desperate for love that any little bit I share leads them to believe I'm caring for them with every fiber of my being?

On Monday morning, a woman in a knitted, blue hat came into the church and asked for a cup of coffee. She reeked with the stench of the streets. I smiled and chatted with her for a few seconds.

There was a pot of coffee that was in the process of perculating, so I didn't see any harm in offering a cup to her as soon as it was ready. In the mean time, she asked for a couple of donuts.

Four donuts later for her, I still held an empty coffee cup, still waiting for the coffee to be ready, someone else told the woman that some one was serving coffee down the street. As soon as she left someone commented that

People like that shouldn't be allowed into this area of the church

to drink 'our' coffee.

Pretty soon, they'll be lined up around the block to come in here for coffee.

We just can't have that.

Exactly what about that can't we have? Is that to say that people shouldn't block the business entrance to the church offices with a coffee line or that those people just aren't worth of drinking 'our' coffee?

Internally, I cried last Monday, too.

What's a cup of coffee and a few donuts in the face of eternity? 

If you do it unto the least of these...

It wasn't until I went outside again about an hour later that I saw three cars pull up down the street where people were just starting to set up the coffee which was supposedly being served down the street all that time ago. The woman in the knitted, blue hat was nowhere to be seen.

There are some days when I wonder how I'll ever be able to handle organizing ministry to hundreds of people when I can't even seem to handle ministering to the few that cross my path each day.

Maybe my encounters with these individuals should be my reminder to take a 'time out' or simply to breathe once in a while. Maybe these people represent my opportunity to remain grounded and to never rise so high above the fray that I forget to wipe away someone's tears or share coffee and donuts with those who have done nothing to deserve them.

Peace,

~Beth

After a spending a couple of decades decrying the practice, I finally succumbed to the temptation this weekend...and took a spiritual gifts inventory.

At the conclusion of the test, when we'd finished scoring our responses, the instructor asked if any of us were surprised by the results.

I raised my hand. I had two categories of 'gifts' which scored at the top of the list. One 'gift' is leadership. Okay, that one I can understand because I've been winning leadership awards for as long as I can remember and have spent more than a decade in classes pursuing advanced degrees in the same. Having that one come out as a high score makes total sense to me.

The other 'gift' which turned out to be a high scorer for me is prophecy. Seriously?!?

Like foretelling the future?

No, actually, not at all like foretelling the future.

According to the definition of prophecy as it was used in this context, prophecy simply means the ability to evaluate a situation, understand what's wrong with that situation, and having the ability to recommend changes to resolve whatever is wrong with that situation.

Oh.

I couldn't protest that definition nearly as vehemently as I could protest the image of sitting there with a crystal ball and projecting what's supposed to happen next week.

I've long contended that spiritual gifts are natural abilities which are so innate within us that we can't help but express them. I'm told that spiritual gifts are not the same as talents such as art or music.

In many cases, it seems, spiritual gifts directly impact how we interact with other people.

In my case, perhaps, having this gift comes to light when I'm surrounded by idiots. 

Every once in a while I receive emails from friends which I take one look at and immediately identify as fraudulent. You've probably seen some of them yourself...those incredible stories that turn out to be complete fabrications or urban legends.

My typical go-to verification source is Snopes.com. Their database of urban legends is really the most complete I've found and they're not afraid to admit when there is an element of truth to some of these stories. (Isn't a grain of truth all it takes to tell the best lies?)

Anyway, I have a couple of friends who are experts at receiving, believing, and forwarding urban legend stories like those refuted by Snopes. My general practice is to automatically look up the topic on Snopes and forward their refutal link back to my friends...in hopes of derailing the train of panic on which they're riding. But, almost like clockwork, a few weeks later, I get another email on a slightly different (but agonizingly similar) topic. I roll my eyes, do a little bit of research on the topic, and send back yet another link in order to debunk another lie.

This time I received an email claiming that Snopes.com itself is party to the fraud. The email went on to claim that the site is backdoor financed by a known political sympathizer, yadda, yadda, yadda. The email's original author claimed to have researched his or her facts on the Supreme Court's website, thus lending credence to the claims purported by the rest of the email. And, this time, the person who forwarded the email to me tried to use this 'refutable' evidence as proof that I've been wrong all along.

So, I researched the claims, both on the Supreme Court's website and on other websites. Once again, I'm left holding a pile of lies woven around a couple grains of truth. I sent a website link back to this person refuting the email I'd received and granted that person the permission to believe whatever he or she so chooses and to think whatever is necessary of me.

I said it jokingly in class this past weekend that a prophet isn't welcome in her home town. I really think that's true. I can refute all the lies on the planet, but as long as people are happy believing those lies, I'm never going to get anywhere. I guess it'd be like presenting a piece of moon rock to someone who has always believed the moon is made of green cheese. At that moment, given my recent experience, the person is just as likely to refuse to accept that piece of rock as 'moon rock' simply because it isn't made of green cheese.

Perhaps it's because I spent so many years in a situation where I was constantly told I was wrong that I tend to couch things in terms of my finite ability to comprehend things, but I'm extremely thankful that I don't gauge my self-worth based upon the willingness of others to listen to what I have to say. It's not my job to force people to believe me.

It's my job (and I believed it was my job even before this crazy inventory score came back the way it did) simply to present the facts. It's the onus of others to accept those facts as truth or to reject them as the biggest conspiracy known to man.

If you want to continue to live a lie, that's fine by me. Just don't ever try to claim that I didn't warn you.

Peace,

~Beth

Yesterday, I wrote about a group of people being stuck in an adolescent stage of spiritual development courtesy of their 'religious' leaders.

Today, a friend of mine suggested I take a look at some scholarly writings with regard to organizational leadership. Since that field is an educational passion of mine, I immediately took her advice and researched the writings of Joseph Cangemi.

Virtually the first thing I read was a quote from the man who is sort of considered the 'father' of the study of Organizational Leadership, Peter Drucker. With some apologies to Professor Drucker, I've modified his quote in order to specifically apply it to my recent experience with those 'religious' leaders. Read on:

So where does this system church fail?

The traditional approach creates numerous shortcomings which restrict employee church member creativity and develop “in-the-box” solutions. The controlling, upper management church leaders' decision-making frequently fails to include those who are closest to the any problem within the church (ahem...again, the church members!).

Under time constraints, pressure builds for a quick solution. As pressure builds, people church members are blamed rather than problems being fixed. As tempers flare, trust declines and people church leadership and members, alike, become closed and guarded.

Even in a less pressured environment, people church members are reluctant to offer newer creative ideas because the ideas are disregarded, devalued, taken by management church leadership with no recognition to the originator, or used to increase baseline work expectations for the hourly work force church members. So the organization church continues to deal with problems in its usual “in the box” solutions (Drucker, 2002).

It really hurts me to see such a classic case of organizational stagnation occurring within a group of people I know...especially when I care about them so much.

The sad thing is that with my educational background and experience, I could help them...if they wanted to be helped. The saddest thing is that I've tried to politely offer suggestions designed to foster some introspection on the part of the church leadership...and was 'shot-down', in no uncertain terms.

Further justifying the decision I'd made several months ago, it is safest (and most emotionally healthy) for me to simply walk away. In a 'spiritual brotherhood' kind of way, I still love those people.

I'm just refusing to be part of their organizational entropy.

Doggone it! If I hadn't inherited all of those compassion genes, watching chaos would be entertaining instead of hurting the way it does.

(sigh)

Peace,

~Beth

Some time ago I wrote about Fowler's 'Stages of Spiritual Development'.

When I wrote about those stages of development, I wasn't necessarily thinking about the same folks I wrote about in yesterday's blog post.

Lately, a good friend and I have been trying to sort through the emotional detritus that was left behind after we'd encountered allegedly well-meaning, but totally clueless 'religious' leaders (The same folks I did write about yesterday).

As my friend explained why she was upset after her particular encounter, I told her I'd email a linkto the article which explained Fowler's stages. 

When we discussed what she read the next day, it was as if a light bulb had turned on for her. She completely understood what I'd been trying to tell her previously.

Today, when we revisited the topic, we both experienced another 'lightbulb' moment as we talked through the situation.

We've been able to identify these 'religious' leaders as being stuck in what Fowler described as the 'adolescent' stage of their spiritual development. Wikipedia lists that stage as follows:

Stage 3 – "Synthetic-Conventional" faith (arising in adolescence; aged 12 to adulthood) characterized by conformity to religious authority and the development of a personal identity. Any conflicts with one's beliefs are ignored at this stage due to the fear of threat from inconsistencies.

Anyone who has ever spent quality time around teenagers knows that they are able to pitch some hellacious temper tantrums. And, a hellacious temper tantrum was exactly what that church leader was throwing both when he chastised me for leaving his worship service and again when I elected to re-examine the issue this past Sunday.

Someone recently told me that when Christians are stuck at this stage of spiritual development, they're master manipulators (just like any other teenager). They'll do whatever is necessary to force us to see 'their' point of view. It doesn't matter if that involves manipulation, dragging us down to their level, or telling us what horrible Christians we are, simply because we don't believe as they do.

Doesn't that sound just like a teenager berating his parents just because they've made the 'mistake' of behaving the way a good parent should actually behave?

I HATE you! You NEVER let me do anything! You're the worst parent anybody could ever have!

And, yet, just like when I committed the horrible crime of singing in their choir, the only crime which the parent of the whining teenager committed was looking out for the child's welfare. (For shame!)

As my friend and I discussed the scenario we've recently encountered, we agreed that it's terribly disappointing to see these people (whom we actually, at one time, respected) stuck in this perpetual state of adolescence. We really wish we could help pull them up to the next level of development, but we realize that until those folks are ready to change, they never will.

At the same time we're experiencing the disappointment over their condition, we've also realized just how freeing it is to know that we're not really at fault for the chaos that's been happening lately. The only mistake we've managed to make is to actually take a few steps forward in our personal, spiritual journey.

What a wonderful gift that is...the ability to look back and say...'Cool! Being un-stuck is a really, really great feeling!'

Woohoo!

Peace,

~Beth