"Welcome to the Chart Room"

I have been in the midst of the BRAVE journey with Crossroads and many other churches in our city.  Recently, I spent some time going through the BRAVE experience at CityLink Center.  This interactive prayer experience was one that provided some hands on tools to further explore the places in which God has been calling us as individuals to be brave.

***

I walk into the Chart Room not knowing what to expect. 

I am met by two huge wooden tables that look as though they have maps on them underneath a sheet of glass.  They are surrounded by well lit alcoves filled with messages inviting me to chart out a course. 

The track playing through the headphones I am wearing tells me to look for the message that connects with my heading.

My heading during this BRAVE journey has been: “Find a woman of peace.” 

I landed on this after reviewing a few things the BRAVE app pulled up for me to consider—where I want to be less stressed, where I need change, something I want to do, and looking at my “next spiritual step.”  It was this last area that really drew my attention, since all of these other items felt like areas where I have actively been make changes in my life recently. 

In looking at the spiritual progression—from seeking truth, to receiving Jesus, to focusing on obedience—I really am at the place where these are a part of my story, but I need to step towards replicating my faith in others.  This is something that I have been open to for a long time; and in some ways I think this happens on some level in snippets with many people I meet daily.  I am a teacher and love to share the things I am learning.  I also have the privilege of doing this daily with my Little Love.  However, I am constantly challenged by the stories I hear of others in our community at Crossroads who are actively and intentionally moving with a purpose to disciple others in their lives, encouraging and guiding them along as they seek Jesus in the midst of their life in a more disciplined and regular way. 

I don’t know how pursue this, really.  It doesn’t seem like something I can make happen.  So in some ways this brave challenge seemed to be the one that would require me to trust God to act most.  In the end, that is why I picked this heading. 

Truthfully, it feels risky to me, because I see no way of accomplishing all this on my own. 

However, after too many times of failing, I have learned that when I build up plans in my own way, they fall far short of what I hope for or expect.  God’s way is always better.  I sense that God has been in the midst of the formation of this heading, but nothing in my life at the moment really seems to suggest that this can be accomplished.  Certainly not in six weeks. 

Yet, I’m choosing to follow.  That’s what it is to be obedient, right?  I think of the disciples.   Jesus often asked them to go and do things that probably seemed a bit odd to them.  Yet,they followed and discovered things just as he told them they would be.  I wonder what I will find.

When I am asked to sum all this thinking up in six words or less, I remembered a phrase I have heard used around Crossroads to describe the way they encourage discipleship—“find a person of peace.” 

This phrase was meant to refer to the passage where Jesus sends out his twelve disciples in Matthew: 

^“ Whatever town or village you enter, search there for some worthy person and stay at their house until you leave.  As you enter the home, give it your greeting.  If the home is deserving, let your peace rest on it; if it is not, let your peace return to you.  If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, leave that home or town and shake the dust off your feet.”  -Matthew 10:11-14, NIV

It is a phrase to express that our time is best spent sharing the good news and fostering growth in someone who is a willing recipient.  This person is a “person of peace.” 

I have all this in mind as I set my heading.  “Find a woman of peace.” 

I think about all of this in the Chart Room as I look around in these nooks trying to find a message that speaks to me. 

It is the sign that says   “I AM THE AUTHOR OF PEACE” that I keep coming back to.

There is something in this proclamation of God’s character makes me pause. 

I grab a brochure and sit down to consider this.

I am struck by the idea that in this journey to “find a woman of peace” it is God who is the author of peace.  He wants to bring His peace to my life.  I am also amazed by the thought that just as He brings His peace into my life I can trust He will prepare a person of peace for me; and as I consider this, I begin to think that perhaps this journey to find a woman of peace is not primarily an external thing.  I didn’t see that coming! 

As I Set Sail I am aware of God’s love for me.  I am aware of his provision.  I am aware that He wants my good, as I seek him and desire to be part of His vision, where disciples reproduce.  He wants me to be a woman of peace.

I step into the Storm Room and take a seat on steps.   I watch as people walk out on the water.  Like Peter, when Jesus says, “Come,” these people step out in faith.  The waves are churning and still they go.  I spy a spot high up and walk across the waters where I find a place to rest on the edge of a wave.

I sit and think about the storms that have been raging in me during this BRAVE journey.  Fear is something I have battled again and again in my life.  This time fear comes in the form of a full life.  How does this challenge fit into it?  I am not sure I see that yet.  I am afraid of being overwhelmed.  Yet, I realize, Jesus knows my capacity better than I do. 

I keep coming back to that chart room message: “I am the author of peace.”

All I can think is that God will take care of finding a woman of peace.  He wants me to concentrate on the internal journey of finding my peace in Christ.

With this revelation I move into the sanctuary.

I move through in the sand up to the front and find a spot to sit on a wooden bench.

I sit and listen to the music.

I lift up praise.

I thank God for speaking to me.

It is good to rest here in His presence.

In His presence I find peace.

As the minutes pass and I finally stand to leave.  I leave knowing that I do not go alone.

The peace of Christ goes with me.  He is with me wherever I go.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.  I do not give as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”  -John 14:27 NIV

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we seek Christ and step boldly into the plans He has laid out for us—especially when they seem bigger than we can handle.  May we find that He is the peace in the midst of the stormy places.  May we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus.  May we discover that He never leaves us or forsakes us.  May we come to know His faithfulness anew.

Jessica :)


A big thank you to my dear husband for capturing some photos of the prayer experience for me.  It wasn't until long after I returned I wished I had thought to pull out my camera!

Fruit of Authenticity

I am sitting in the center of the canoe, holding a camera, as Jason and a Park Ranger paddle us across Black Bay toward a spot where we may have a chance to see a patch of wild rice.  I look for the picturesque moments, while the two men talk of all the things you talk about when you don’t know someone—where you grew up, what you do and how you got there.  I listen.

They talk about the National Parks and I chime in as Jason asks me to help recall the places we have visited.  Sometime after this, the ranger asks us what our parents do.  As Jason tells about his parents and the retreat center they direct in retirement, I begin to consider how to respond.

When I am asked about my parents, I often wonder how much to tell.  I tend to think people believe this is a safe question for casual conversation, but my parents’ story is not a normal one.  Inwardly, my stomach knots up as I decide to take the direct and uncomfortable approach.  I almost always do.  It is my story and to tell anything less is not being really authentic.

I wait until Jason’s voice comes to a stop before I speak up.  I tell of how my mom is a retired nurse and how my dad is in prison. 

For a moment after I speak, there is silence.  I am not surprised by this.  It usually takes people a moment to take it in, because prison is never something people expect to hear.  This is always the hardest part of the telling for me—getting it out there and wondering how the person who is listening will respond?  It is a little like dying.  I have to let go, not knowing what the results might be.

The ranger says that he is sorry.  It must be very hard.

I acknowledge this.  It is hard. 

But I tell him, there is so much good that has come from all that has happened.  I talk of how my dad’s life has been changed by God. 

I tell of how he began walking away from God in my early high school years.  I tell of how he left my mother in my junior year of high school.  I tell of the emotional distance that grew, year after year.  I don’t tell of what happened to my dad for him to be arrested and charged with six felonies.  It is a long story, so I only say that he did some of what he was charged with, but probably not all.  It is hard to know since he doesn’t remember much of that day. 

I tell of the prescription drug coma that he recovered from over the course of a month as he was taken of all the medications his psychiatrist had him taking for depression, anxiety, sleep, and a few other things.  I tell how it is after this they discover he had bi-polar, not at all treated by the medications he had been on; instead his medication likely made him worse. 

I tell of how my dad tried to do the right thing by working with the prosecution.  I tell of how they told him they would not push for the maximum sentence.  So, he agreed to plead guilty, which meant he did not go to trial.  Then, the prosecution pursued the maximum anyway.  I tell how the judge gave him the maximum, despite a court psychologist who wrote on his behalf for release and counseling.  I tell of his twenty-five year sentence without parole, because of the way the judge wrote the sentence—this for a man who had no previous record.  This is the difficult part of his story.

I pause because of some static on the radio.  After it stops, the ranger voices his surprise and his interest.  I continue to share.

I tell the beautiful part of my dad’s story too—one of grace.  I tell of how my parents have reconciled.  They are friends and in love—in a way they never were when I was growing up.  I tell of how my dad has drawn close to God and lives with such joy now, even in such a place as prison.  I tell of how he has softened in a way that has made his good qualities better and the change that continues to transform a proud man into a humble one.  I tell of how inmates respect him and come to ask him questions and talk to him about God.  I tell of how proud I am of who he is becoming. 

Jason agrees with me and tells of his own experiences of my dad as he knew him while we were dating and the change he has witnessed since he has been incarcerated.  He says he is like a totally different person.

As we marvel about his transformation the ranger sits quietly, listening closely.  He responds a little tentatively by saying how he is speaking for himself as a man, not as a park employee, when he says he is encouraged to hear my dad’s story.  He says that we sound like we are people of faith and asks us a little bit about our own faith stories.

I am delighted; because as we continue to talk the ranger begins to share about his own relationship with Christ.  He tells of how it was two years ago in this same park that his life began to change.  He tells of how his church and a group of men from Chi Alpha provided community and encouraged him to grow.  He tells us how he has come a long way—from a man who lived an impure life to a man who seeks to honor God with his life. 

Jason and I share how delighted we are that the ranger would share his story with us.  It never gets old, hearing the way lives change when a person encounters Jesus.  We talk about the challenges and the joys of discipleship.  We listen and encourage one another.  We speak blessing.

We paddle along exploring wild rice, listening to the rush of cormorant wings flapping overhead, watching an osprey circling, and hearing the distant call of a loon—we enjoy God’s creation and we enjoy fellowship that happens so naturally in the presence of believers—each moment of it blessing.

I tuck away this vacation memory, the fruit of authenticity. 

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we share the story God has given us.  May we find that people are drawn to Him in the midst of our authenticity.  As we die to ourselves may we find that we have true life in Christ.

Jessica :)