Mission Accomplished!

In the last several years, we have started making a “time capsule” of sorts in the “mascot” of our mission trips, Al Buho (a.k.a. our plastic owl decoy that is a coveted White Elephant gift at our Christmas parties). This year our note from our trip to the Dominican Republic sums it up well:

Mission Field: Anywhere from Kansas to the DR

Mission: To Be the Hands and Feet of God, Serving His People

We assembled at Wichita airport, packed and ready to begin our journey. Each of us had our own concerns, excitements, expectations, but only one goal—to let God’s will be done. For most of the team, the language barrier was a huge challenge we’ve overcome. Though we were plagued with sickness and injury, we never lost sight of our mission. We taught lessons in schools, sang songs, did crafts, played with the kids, loved the kids, visited people in their homes, lead youth group, were a part of church services, and shared God’s love with all whom we met. It didn’t matter what happened before or after, we gave our all to put a smile on every face we came across. We had come to be a blessing, but in return, have been blessed by leaps and bounds. As individuals, we’ve grown in our own different ways. As a team, we have grown to become a family, striving for excellence in all that we do. Our mission in the mission field has been completed, but our mission for God never ends. Armed with our own stories, as testimonies of God’s goodness, we are ready to further God’s kingdom, by being His hands and feet, wherever we go from here.

Our mission trip reminded us of the power of God at work in the world around us…not that we were bringing God’s power…the Holy Spirit had already done that, but we became aware of the work that is being done in a part of the world far from us, in many ways. We experienced significant ministry within our group, as one of our members was hospitalized with Dengue Fever. We witnessed God’s healing in his life as he was released in time to travel home with us, and we experienced the power of prayer, as we kept vigil for him during a particularly dangerous time for him. And we came away with a reminder that God calls us to be in mission wherever we are. Thanks be to God...and mission accomplished!

Taking a Look Around

I tend to be one of those people who stays busy. If I'm truly honest, I really like it that way best, I suppose. I do recognize, however, that there are times in the year that I'm too busy. These last 6 weeks definitely fit that scenario. School starting involves all of the excitement, emotion, and stress of setting an inert machine into motion. The potential for great power is there, but so is the potential for numerous malfunctions. But by now, we are up and moving. The rust has worn off, the new pieces have been broken in, and we're moving.

And so, I stop. Yes, I stop and take a look around. I look back to these last 40 days and see that lots of great things have happened:

• I participated in a prayer effort that started on August 10 and finishes up tomorrow (Friday, September 25) that intentionally lifted United Methodist Campus Ministries in prayer. There were days when I felt like I was a hamster running on a wheel and when I prayed these prayers, I sensed camraderie, understanding, and provision in a significant way. There were some days when these prayers were the substance of my static prayer time, but even in those days, I was surrounded by prayers.
• We've initiated a new group of leaders for campus ministry at Southwestern. Both the Shepherd Team of Discipleship (affectionately known as the Disciple-Sheep) and the leaders for our Campus Ministries are leading others in ministry! There truly is nothing more exciting than when students that you love are ministering to others! Love it!
• Chapel at SC. Wow! I have been blown away by the chapel services this year so far! Each preacher (all from within the SC community so far--and I'm counting Steve Rankin as still being from within the SC community) has spoken words of challenge, comfort, and truth to our campus. The worship teams are learning what it means to lead their peers, and the support ministries are creatively engaging the community in worship. I can hardly wait to get to chapel each week.
• I've had a couple of conversations with current students and alumni this fall that have been incredibly affirming...not necessarily of me, but of what I sense that God is doing and wants to do in our midst. Many seeds have been planted in years past here at SC and things are coming together for fruit to be borne. It's exciting.

From reading this little glance around, it would seem that Southwestern is heaven on earth. Well, it is pretty great, but we have our own struggles, too. But through it all, we know that God's presence is guiding, sustaining, and empowering us to meet those challenges. As I look around, I see places where God is asking me to trust and keep going, places where I need to ask forgiveness, and even places where I may need to just stop what we've been doing. So whether we move forward, or stop, we trust all of it for God's glory alone! And that's actually the best place of all to be.

Some Changes at SC

Well, it has often been said that change is inevitable, and we find that to be true at Southwestern College. After 14 wonderful years as the Campus Minister and Chair of the Philosophy and Religion department, Steve Rankin has felt the call of God to minister in another community. As of July 1, he has accepted an invitation to become the Chaplain at Southern Methodist University in Dallas. We are certainly sad to see him leave Southwestern, as his ministry is keenly felt on campus at this time. I was a sophomore the year that Steve started at SC, which means that during my freshmen year we were absent a Campus Minister. The impact that he made, even in the next 3 years, was significant. He redesigned chapel involving student worship teams. He started Discipleship Southwestern, a program that has now involved over 150 students (and of which I am currently the director). He nurtured the call to ministry in a number of students (including myself). And he poured his life into his students. In the 11 years since, he has continued on that initial impact in incredible ways. I have been honored to join him in the work at SC during the last four years. Keeping up with him is at times dizzying, but always significant. I cannot begin to express the impact that Steve has made on my own life and on the lives of many other students in the last 14 years.

Steve will be significantly missed on campus, but, as has been his goal, he is about the work of the Kingdom of God. He has simply chosen to be obedient to that goal through another arm of the United Methodist Church. While I'm sad for us at SC, I'm very excited for him and for SMU! I believe that he will make an impact for Christ in that community as well! Here is his take on the move. Please join me in praying for Steve and his family as they all adjust to life outside of Winfield.

On Call 24.7

I have a friend who formerly held a job with a large company that required her to carry a company phone and be on call virtually at all times. She technically had some days that she was "off duty," but due to her position as head over safety for the whole factory, "off duty" time meant nothing in the case of an accident that slowed down production. I remember meeting her for a quick lunch one day, only to have it disturbed by an emergency at work. This friend of mine, a powerful woman, hung up her phone, eyes threatening to spill over with tears, and said, "I just want to eat lunch with my friend in peace. Can't I just have an hour without being on duty?"

I feel for my friend. Her life was dictated by that little annoying gadget on her hip that could reach her anywhere (which meant everywhere). I remember thinking about how glad I was that I didn't have a job where I had to be on call all the time. I think I was sympathetic toward her and told her that she certainly deserved some time off every now and then, just as everyone deserves time off every now and then. And yet, I'm not so sure if I agree with myself anymore.

First...a qualification: everyone needs to take time to rest. In scripture we hear of that time as observing the Sabbath. I won't take the time right now to talk about why I think Sabbath is so important (and I do! I really, really do!), but what I do want to talk about is about the importance of living out our faith 24.7.

I'm currently teaching a Sunday School class at my church on the book of Philippians. I really don't know why I chose Philippians, except that several of my favorite verses are in it. I'm using a commentary by Tom Wright for some background info, but we're moving through pretty slowly and asking lots of questions of the text, and of ourselves. We've only made it through chapter 1, but one of the things that I've been struck by so far has to do with our citizenship as a Christian. Newsflash: as a Christian, I must relinquish any of my own rights and privileges, and take on the perspective of being a Kingdom citizen. This shouldn't be revolutionary, should it? And yet, far too often, I want to be a good Christian when the setting is convenient, but not if it requires something of me.

In various ways throughout chapter 1 of Philippians, Paul mentions that the Christians to whom he is writing will suffer. In fact, in verse 29 of chapter 1, he actually says that it is a privilege that they can suffer for Christ. What kind of masochistic man is that Paul? It sounds like the beginnings of the Opus Dei a la Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code. And yet, I become ever convinced that the suffering that Paul is talking about is not just something that the select few in the time of the earliest persecution of the church will experience. Rather, if we are reading the gospel correctly, we must acknowledge that obedience to it requires an element of suffering, no matter who you are. The gospel of Jesus Christ tells me that as a Christian, I'm required to take up my cross daily and follow Christ. That same passage goes on to say that if I want to gain my life, I must lose it. What a crazy gospel this is, is it not? To paraphrase C.S. Lewis' famous quote,
this gospel must either be crazy or be true. Why would people follow a God that required so much? The only plausible explaination that I can come up with is that people follow it because the God that authors that salvation story has transformed their lives and requires nothing less than offering our lives back to him.

And now...I return to my initial thoughts about being "on call 24.7." While my friend ended up quitting her job that sucked the life out of her because she was always on duty, in God's economy, we have the opportunity to live "on call 24.7" and actually find true life in Christ. And all that God expects in exchange is that we willingly lay down our lives for him. All the time. At work and at play. In our relationships. In our amusements. In our wallets, purses and bank accounts. In our despair. In our joy. It sounds like God is asking too much, and yet what a great God we serve! I give him my rags, and he gives me his righteousness. But why, oh why are those rags so difficult to give up?

The Pain of Change

I spent the better part of the afternoon and early evening rearranging my office. Coming from a person that doesn't love change--but loves order--it was a bit of a painful, yet refreshing experience. A couple of weeks ago, just several days before all the students returned to campus, I had the opportunity to get a different desk. Considering the fact that my former desk was functional, but was HUGE for my smallish office, I was thrilled at the prospect of getting one that was more flexible in size (and has a great built-in light!). The new desk would be great, but the timing was about as bad as it could be! The week before students come and the first week that they're here are about the busiest days of the year on campus. Think Macy's on the day after Thanksgiving! We have a very integrated campus when it comes to faculty and staff involvement and so I end up playing several roles when it comes to those first two weeks and I was not in any mood to play Trading Spaces with my office. And yet, because of the disdain I had for my old desk and the sweet built-in light, I packed up my desk and prepared to rearrange.

On the appointed day, (with much anticipation, I might add) I opened my door to see my new desk in it's proper position. Unfortunately because this new one was shorter on one side and longer on the other, it left about an 8 inch swath between the desk and a bookshelf through which I might squeeze. My co-worker said, "That's a bruise waiting to happen." And right she was! I've gotten at least 2 since my new arrangement happened! So, finally today I invested 3.5 hours of my life to bring a little order to the chaos that was my office. I cleaned out filing cabinets, moved a very-full (and very dusty!) bookshelf (which made me temporarily wish that I wasn't such a bibliophile, but just temporarily! I do love my books!), and separated the two parts of the desk to make my office more inviting. If someone would have seen me an hour before I was done, they would have thought that a tornado came my way, but by now, everything looks like it's been exactly where it is for months. The new arrangement is fantastic! My office looks twice as big, is comfortable and looks like a place that welcomes people to come and "sit a spell," instead of getting an answer to their question and moving on to the next task on their list. Looking at the new arrangement makes me wonder why I waited 3 years to push things around a bit since I was never really happy with how it formerly was.

Change is inevitable, they say. But that doesn't make it easy. I suppose that's a good thing. Establishing patterns are part of Christian discipleship. Sometimes the patterns (or disciplines, to use a not very fun sounding word) carry us through the times in our lives when our motivation can't. But patterns can sometimes kill, or at least bruise, us spiritually. We get used to playing a certain role in a community, or doing the things that we know will keep us safe and (moderately) happy, or doing what we've always done because even if we aren't totally happy, at least we know what to expect. And then, every now and then, something happens to jar us into a new reality. We get sick, get a new job, take a risk, watch someone else get sick, get a new job or take a risk and we realize that the patterns that we've been living in have constricted us to a place where we're no longer trusting God with the future, but rather controlling it (or at least attempting to) with our well-worn patterns.

Clearly rearranging my office is nothing compared to the kind of changes that really shock our systems and instill in us a sense of the awareness of God's provision at EVERY level in life. And yet, God speaks, even through rearranging an office. The message that he's whispering to me is that what may feel inconvenient, difficult, or even painful in the moment can serve to free us from our status quo and open us to the winds of change that blow through from time to time. And at least right now, some of the clutter (and dust!) is gone.

Would you join me in prayer?

His name was Ed. He was wearing an old Tommy Hilfiger jersey shirt over a plaid flannel shirt and a Budweiser Select ball cap. His face showed that at its last shave, he had worn a goatee. But his last shave had to have been over a week ago. His eyes were brown and welled up with tears from time to time. He was missing one bottom tooth. And he was homeless. Not only was he homeless, but he was a heroin addict. I met him last Friday at a “Soup Kitchen” in St. Louis. Discipleship had taken its annual mission trip there for this year and we had worked in a variety of places: a children’s home (for a rough group of kids), two different schools (for an even rougher group of kids), and the soup kitchen. There were 21 of us in total. A group of students had worked all year planning the trip, another group fundraising for it, and all of us praying for it. And now we were in the midst of the trip. We had just completed a “Homeless Walk,” where we had spent two hours trying to understand the homeless situation in downtown St. Louis. We walked (in the rain, as it had been raining the whole week we were there) for four miles from place to place, a church where they were allowed to pray, “Hobo Park” where they could take a nap, a library where they could read or search the internet, a couple of shelters where they could sleep for the night, and back to the church, where they could grab their next meal. We were pretty miserable from the two hours that we spent in the cold and rain, and then had the opportunity to eat with some of the men, women and children with whom we now felt solidarity. I followed two of my students to a table near the back of the room where they sat down beside a man who nodded and said hi when we sat down.

Ed confessed to us his heroin addiction early in our conversation and then told us that he would be entering a treatment program for his addiction that afternoon. He told us that he had a ride coming to pick him up after lunch was over. As we talked, he shared with us that he had not always been a drug addict. He had formerly been a window washer for high rise buildings and had been able to work anywhere he wanted. At one point, he even told use that he “was not like the rest of these homeless guys.” He said that he had only been homeless for a week and that he had now hit rock bottom. He spoke with clarity, not appearing to be high at the moment. He expressed his regret, sadness, and anger at his addiction. And thankfully, he had hope. He had hope that he would break out of his darkness, but not a naïve, unfounded hope.

“Five years ago, I would have been the one here helping out with this program, telling these guys that they can break out of addiction,” he said. You see, he had been “clean” several different times, once for more than two years. But, slowly, temptation had arisen for him, one time in the form of a client who offered him drugs, sending him into the downward spiral of addiction, once again. This time, he said that it had partially been because of his girlfriend, Stephanie. They were both addicts who had been clean when they met, but “were not good for each other,” as he said. She had entered the hospital that morning for her attempt at rehabilitation. But he painfully told me that they had broken up that morning when she went to rehab. He wants to be clean and he knows that he can’t be clean and stay connected to her. Now, I was hopeful. He might have a chance, I internally reasoned. I asked him why he had been able to stop doing drugs before and he said, “God. I know that God is the only thing stronger than heroin. I just hope that he can break the addiction in me this time, too, and for good.” At one point, he even said, “You don’t know how hard it is for me to stay sitting here. Everything in me wants to just get up right now and go outside and find drugs.” Thankfully, not quite everything. I believe that there is a glimmer of God’s grace that is holding on to him in the midst of his darkness.

I have to say, I don’t understand the downward spiral of addiction. I hear it has dark claws that hold on to the heart and mind of those that submit. I think of Frodo in Lord of the Rings and the weakness that results for him when he “uses” the ring to “hide.” The final scenes of the last movie of the trilogy illustrate the bitter conflict of addiction, as best I can ascertain. The darkness that enfolds a person when they are in sin, that is something that we can all identify with, I suppose. The apostle Paul said it this way: “For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this is what I keep on doing” (Romans 7:19). He goes on to say, “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24). Truly, only the power of God can set any of us free from our inclination to sin. And thankfully Ed knows that, too. Unfortunately, admitting you have a problem is only the first step.

Ed will have many steps to take in getting free from his addiction. And unfortunately he will have to take the hardest of those steps by himself. He will need every possible grace of God in order to make it. I asked him how long his rehab would be. He said 12 weeks to 6 months, but hoped that it would be 6 months long. He really wants to make it this time and the longer he would have, the better his chance would be. As he spoke, I forcefully felt the urge to pray for him, not just that day, but until his treatment was over. I tried to shove it away…intercession is hard work! But, the urge would not leave me. I offered it to him. “Ed, would it be okay with you for me to pray with you for the next 6 months, while you’re in rehab?” Those brown eyes, now rimmed in red, welled up with tears as he said, “Oh please! And would you pray for Stephanie, too?” He went on to say that he knew that he needed every support that he could possibly get in order to break free from his addiction.

His ride came right on time to pick him up. He gathered his things and said over his shoulder, “Thanks for your prayers.” His next 6 months will be the hardest of his life. He will have to let his body get rid of the drugs. He will have to resist the urges to “stop” the pain by getting more drugs. And he will have to learn how to forgive himself and others who have contributed to his addiction. I do believe that he’s learned the lesson of sacrifice in obedience. He yielded his relationship with his girlfriend in an attempt to make it this time. But, even still, I don’t know if he’ll make it. I want to believe that he will. I want Ed to draw strength knowing that someone is praying for him in Kansas. I want him to turn his life around and begin a ministry of reaching out to drug addicts to show them the way of life in Christ. I want all that to happen, but I will never know, even if it does happen. The task of the Christian is to be faithful, even when one doesn’t see results. Even so, I pray that this time, Ed can make it. May it be so, Lord, may it be so.

Lord, be with Ed and Stephanie. Surround them with your love and grace. Bring people into their lives that have compassion and care for them. Remove the darkness that addiction brings to them. Shine in your healing light. Let them know that they are worth loving, even in their darkest moments.

Lenten Lament

The season of Lent is upon us! We are caught in the middle of the time when we are initiated into death (Ash Wednesday) and when we celebrate the New Life of Jesus Christ through Resurrection Sunday (Easter). I did not grow up observing Lent. I thought it was something that only my Catholic friends did, and even then, I didn’t have any clue what it was that they did (except not eating meat). My first real exposure to Lent was when I went to a United Methodist college and we had an Ash Wednesday service in Chapel one year. I received the smudge of ashes on my forehead, feeling self-conscious for the next hour about what the ashes said about me. They boldly proclaimed my mortality—ashes to ashes, dust to dust. They said I was a “religious” person. They sent a message to others about who I was. And they made me uncomfortable! Sure, I was a Christian—others on campus who knew me already knew that about me. But somehow the ashes signified my brokenness in a way that I’d never “broadcast” before.

Lent is the time of year when we embrace the fact that we are a finite and broken people. In a sense, we mourn our humanity. We remember that one day we will die. In fact, as the preacher on Ash Wednesday said this year, “Without Christ, we are dead.” It sounds blunt, but it is the truth. When we live a life without Christ, we actually are dead already. Dead to eternal life. Dead because of our sin. We are walking dead. The Lenten season reminds us of our death. That’s not very encouraging! We like to put a positive spin on things. Naturally, we like to push our thoughts toward Easter, that resurrection morning when death was defeated. And yet, it’s important to dwell in the morbid thoughts of our broken humanity for this season of the year.

Christian tradition teaches us to deny ourselves of something during the Lenten season. Some choose chocolate, others Facebook, or something else. This year I chose morning TV. I’m not ashamed to admit it…my day starts better when I have Good Morning America to accompany me in my morning ritual! I sometimes switch to The Today Show when GMA isn’t so hot, but I do enjoy catching some news along with the new spring fashions. This year, I decided that I would give up morning television as a way of denying myself and focusing on Christ. All was well until that chapel a week after Ash Wednesday. It was announced in chapel that the Discipleship team would be giving up pop and sending the money to Blood: Water Mission to dig a well in Africa. This was news to me, but I was all for it! I had just recently heard about this project and their plan to build wells for clean water in Africa. I was happy to donate money, but not too keen on giving up pop. During this first week, I sort of played around with this idea. Okay…so I won’t buy any new pop, but I’ll drink what I have on hand (fortunately for me, I had purchased 2-24 packs. Hey—they were on sale!) just a week before Lent. Or, I won’t buy any pop at a restaurant, but if I’m not paying for it and it’s included in the price, it’s okay. I’ll still donate money. For goodness sake, I’m giving up morning TV for Lent! I didn’t decide on the pop thing—it was decided for me and I’ll donate the money.

And then, this weekend…the still, small voice of God finally broke through my litany of excuses.

“Ashlee…is this really about not drinking pop, or is this about your
stubborn humanity? Do you want to do things your way, or are you willing
to yield to me? Have you taken seriously what it means to ‘take up your
cross and follow me’?”

Well…when you put it that way, Lord! My broken excuses revealed for all to see about my humanity, much more obviously than the smudge of ashes on my forehead ever did. It’s easy for me (as for all of us) to justify our actions, pay off our “guilt,” or plug our ears to the still, small voice of our Savior. And so, we can’t skip ahead to Easter. We need Lent. A time when we willingly admit our brokenness, for all to see! We remind ourselves that without Christ, we are dead. We deny our “wants” in order to join in the sufferings of Christ, relying on his strength. I’m still not watching morning TV until after Easter, but for me, Lent has become about denying myself in another way. I’m letting the decision of another person (the Kingdom Committee of the Discipleship team) help break me of my stubbornness. I’m giving of my financial resources and I’m hopeful for the recipients of the well that we will contribute to, but that’s not the goal. (Don’t get me wrong—it’s a wonderful, wonderful byproduct of our obedience!). The goal is that we would become people that are fully submitted to Christ, every day of the year, able to respond to the countless ways that we are employed by Christ to do the work that he has called us to do. So…lament! Lament and remember your humanity. Remember that without Christ, you are dead. And on that day when we celebrate the new life that we have in Christ, we will join with Christ and be raised from the dead. And this year, the recipients of the new well in Africa can celebrate with us, too.