This past week, I attended a four-day orientation retreat
for my new CPE (clinical pastoral education) program as part of a requirement
for my new hospital chaplaincy program. During the event, we discussed the need
to develop measurable learning goals – one of which is a spiritual learning
goal. Mine is to be more intentional about being silent in prayer.
Today, the message
from both our small group and the sermon centered on being intentional in our
faith and, not simply facing, but chasing our fears. All this combined has
convicted me.
Being silent in prayer is not something foreign to me. I am,
after all, a natural-born introvert. I thrive on the silence. However, I know
that silence (or my lack-there-of) in prayer is often a loud indicator that
something is wrong internally – there is some thought or emotion I have buried
and do not want to face. Being silent in prayer would mean risking God speaking
truth to me, uncovering and facing whatever is hidden.
The hard part is when I am unaware of anything I am
intentionally trying to bury. Yes – there are some things I would rather not
think about – but these issues I have discussed ad nauseum with my therapist.
In renewing the silence in prayer, am I willing to uncover that which my subconscious
has buried for a reason? Am I ready to chase that lion, whatever that lion may
be?
I believe I am. I set off on a journey over eight years ago
now to do the hard work – whatever it takes – to fix me. I have come a long
way, but I still have a lifetime of learning and growing to do. There are still
some things that terrify me about relationships, and although the same issues I
had about relationships even one year ago are not the same issues which terrify
me now, there are still some issues which keep me from allowing anyone to get
too close to me. Case in point – my therapist and my dog are the only two on
the planet (other than God) who know my deepest fears, longings, dreams, etc.
As open as I have become in the course of a decade, I am
still, in many ways, that frightened little girl trying so hard to be tough so
that no one can hurt me.
Day two of the
retreat:
After dinner, we gathered to watch a video about all the areas
available to chaplaincy. Did you know Nascar has their own chaplains who travel
with them? There is also a retirement community in Hollywood specifically
catering to retired Hollywood workers, and they have chaplains! One of the other
students and I decided we were going to become chaplains for NFL teams – him for
the Raiders and me for the Texans!
Anyway, to get back to the point, while watching the video,
I got so excited and energized and passionate about the idea of becoming a
military chaplain. Ever since Top Gun came out, I wanted to be a pilot in the
Air Force. (I know, I know. Maverick was a Navy man, but I wanted to be based
on land, not water.) Because of my hearing deficit, the military was never an
option.
After 9/11, I was told the requirements for some branches of the
military were now less stringent, and I may be able to get in. However, by this
point, I was happily married and didn’t think Brad would follow me wherever the
military would send me. I never even discussed the possibility with him.
When I felt the call to ministry, I was told there may be a
backdoor option for me as a military chaplain. This time, I did try to get in,
but the Air Force still would not take me. They had no need for a 40-something-year-old-female-Nazarene.
They needed Rabbis and Priests. There is only one reason I did not try other
branches, and her name is Bailey. I could not leave her. She is not just a dog.
She is my baby, my heart, the love of my life.
Watching this video stirred up those old emotions.
The next morning, I ended my time of prayer with a time of
silence, asking specifically about the military chaplaincy option. I love what
I am doing in the hospital, but why did the video stir up so much emotion?
Could I still be a military chaplain? Could I leave my church and the hospital
(and Bailey) behind?
As I sat in contemplative silence, I knew the answer. I was
not meant to be in the military then or now.
In that case, what is it about being in the military that still gets
me so dang fired up?
It is what the military represents to me, and what I feel
like it could give me that I do not think I already have:
A sense of belonging to something bigger than myself – I do not need a uniform or the recognition of the United States government to belong. I have always felt like an outsider. Even amongst friends, I often feel like an outsider. However, I have never felt such a sense of belonging as I have felt in my church and at the hospital. Am I afraid of finally feeling like I belong? Is the pessimist in me waiting for the other shoe to drop?
I already have a uniform. It is the armor of God. Ephesians 6:10-17 says:
“Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore, put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.”
I already work for the most powerful government. A multitude of places in both the Old and New Testaments speak of the Kingdom of God. Psalm 47:7 is one of many verses which proclaim that “God is the King of all the earth.”
A greater sense of purpose – I do not have to face life-and-death situations, travel to war-ravaged countries in order to have a greater purpose.
In 2 Timothy 2, Paul likens Timothy to a soldier in God’s army. He encourages him to “be strong through the grace that God gives you in Christ Jesus. You have heard me teach things that have been confirmed by many reliable witnesses. Now teach these truths to other trustworthy people who will be able to pass them on to others. Endure suffering along with me, as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. Soldiers don’t get tied up in the affairs of civilian life, for then they cannot please the officer who enlisted them.” (vs 1-4)
And Joshua 1:9, one of my favorite verses says “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
I must work on reframing my idea of what I need with what I already have. I am already blessed beyond measure. I am already enlisted in God’s Army.
Yesterday:
As I concluded my morning prayer time, I was reminded by last Sunday’s suggestion: enlist at least fifteen minutes a week of uninterrupted time of silence – no distractions – no electronics – no pets. This got my attention because my girls often snuggle with me or near me during my prayer time. Sometimes, they are a distraction. Yesterday morning, they were both very disruptive.
I felt antsy. Not only was my prayer time interrupted by my girls, but this would be my first time back at work after the orientation retreat. I wanted to be able to put into practice some of the wonderful advice the more seasoned chaplains offered.
So, I left for work a little early and spent fifteen minutes in the chaplain manager’s office. The office is small and has no windows. I kept the lights out and sat with my eyes closed in silence. When I first turned out the lights, the room was almost pitch black. The only light I could see shone from the edges of the door.
During my time in silence, I felt compelled to open my eyes. Now, even though nothing had changed in the room, my eyes began to focus. The book case and other items in the room began to take shape. The Holy Spirit reminded me of John 1:5 “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” He whispered, “we must sit in the darkness before we can see the light.”
I left that brief time in silence feeling more relaxed than I ever have before making my rounds. What is most amazing to me is that I saw a record number of patients but feel like I experienced more quality time with them.
This Morning:
We have been challenged to bless, spend time with, and pray for our unbelieving friends. I am reading and studying, for the second time, a book called Organic Outreach for Ordinary People: Sharing the Good News Naturally.
I struggle with this because when I am not at church or at work (both places where I am surrounded by people like me or who I can easily pray with/for), I am at home. All my hobbies are introverted hobbies. I do not need others to read or write or watch movies. The challenge to free up my time to be available to unbelievers is quite a perplexing challenge – at least it was until I realized that I have been successful at this in the past.
I, like so many others, hate the term “evangelism,” and saw this as someone else’s gift. I thought being in ministry was my way of getting into evangelism. Now I learn that this is flawed thinking? Okay, but how do I change? How do I free up time when I struggle to pay the bills? (my fear)
While sitting in small group this morning, with my head already throbbing, the truth hit me smack between the eyes. Before I answered the call to ministry, I made the time for evangelism, even though I had no real knowledge of what I was doing at the time.
I wrote about my idea of evangelism in my first novel. It was based on a real experience I had in college. During Holy Week one year, I hung out downtown with some of the homeless population. Anyone who knows me knows I am most comfortable in jeans, a t-shirt, and ball cap. Wearing my comfort gear, sitting next to homeless men and women, it was easy for others to mistake me for one of them.
I got a bird’s eye view, along with real-life commentary, on evangelism done wrong. On Sunday afternoons, buses would pull up next to our rag-tag gang. Out came a bunch of well dressed “Christians.” They stood in a tightly knit group, walked closely behind their pastor, handing our tracts and singing at the top of their lungs – never once making eye contact with any of us. Then, they got back into their vans and drove away. I got an earful about what these individuals believed about “their” Jesus.
Another unmarked van pulled up. No one got out. Someone inside simply threw open the doors. Many of the homeless climbed inside without a word. The ghost inside the van shut the doors and drove off. I asked someone else what that was all about. That van belonged to the mission. They picked them up, took them to lunch, then brought them back. No “evangelism” done. Just a meal.
A few years later, I drove for a nonprofit called Mobile Loaves and Fishes. It was a favor for a friend who needed a legal driver for her sociology students to fulfill a course requirement. One of our stops was tent city. It was there that I met my friend, Cowboy. He convinced me to stop with the “roach coach,” as he called it, and come down into Tent City for a cookout.
I didn’t realize it until this morning, but what those early exchanges amounted to was Cowboy calling me out – challenging my faith. In essence, he was telling me that spending a few minutes handing out sandwiches was a way for me (Christians) to feel good about myself (ourselves). If I really wanted to make a difference, I should invest in them – go spend quality time with them on their turf.
Without realizing what I was doing, I took him up on his invitation. We spent one Saturday a month grilling hotdogs and burgers. The only “religion” we brought was our prayer before we ate. No other agenda. In my mind, I wanted to stay as far away from that van group as I possibly could. I wanted to live Jesus without trying to “evangelize” anyone.
I remember one day, one of the men, who used to just get his food and wander back into the woods to his tent, hung back. After a while of watching us, he asked to speak with me in private. He asked us why we were there, what we were trying to do. I told him nothing. We were simply enjoying a meal together. He asked me why again. I said, “Because we have the same Daddy, and our Daddy told me to.” That day, he asked me to pray with him.
I didn’t realize it then, but I was “evangelizing” – not as that horrible bus group, but in my own way. Man, I loved that ministry. We did it until the great flood of 2010 wiped out the camp.
So, why was I convicted today? Because I used to be a workaholic, busier than I am these days. Still, somehow, I managed to spend time getting to know a bunch of strangers who became close friends – some I still maintain relationships with today.
This challenge for Organic Outreach is not out of my reach. Like the reality of where I am, and where I am not called to serve as a chaplain, there is a way I can serve the unchurched community today.
As we discussed this morning, uncovering the where begins with prayer – and the prayer must include the silent space for God to speak.
- A greater sense of purpose
- A sense of belonging to something bigger than myself
- Escape
A sense of belonging to something bigger than myself – I do not need a uniform or the recognition of the United States government to belong. I have always felt like an outsider. Even amongst friends, I often feel like an outsider. However, I have never felt such a sense of belonging as I have felt in my church and at the hospital. Am I afraid of finally feeling like I belong? Is the pessimist in me waiting for the other shoe to drop?
I already have a uniform. It is the armor of God. Ephesians 6:10-17 says:
“Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore, put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.”
I already work for the most powerful government. A multitude of places in both the Old and New Testaments speak of the Kingdom of God. Psalm 47:7 is one of many verses which proclaim that “God is the King of all the earth.”
A greater sense of purpose – I do not have to face life-and-death situations, travel to war-ravaged countries in order to have a greater purpose.
In 2 Timothy 2, Paul likens Timothy to a soldier in God’s army. He encourages him to “be strong through the grace that God gives you in Christ Jesus. You have heard me teach things that have been confirmed by many reliable witnesses. Now teach these truths to other trustworthy people who will be able to pass them on to others. Endure suffering along with me, as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. Soldiers don’t get tied up in the affairs of civilian life, for then they cannot please the officer who enlisted them.” (vs 1-4)
And Joshua 1:9, one of my favorite verses says “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
I must work on reframing my idea of what I need with what I already have. I am already blessed beyond measure. I am already enlisted in God’s Army.
Yesterday:
As I concluded my morning prayer time, I was reminded by last Sunday’s suggestion: enlist at least fifteen minutes a week of uninterrupted time of silence – no distractions – no electronics – no pets. This got my attention because my girls often snuggle with me or near me during my prayer time. Sometimes, they are a distraction. Yesterday morning, they were both very disruptive.
I felt antsy. Not only was my prayer time interrupted by my girls, but this would be my first time back at work after the orientation retreat. I wanted to be able to put into practice some of the wonderful advice the more seasoned chaplains offered.
So, I left for work a little early and spent fifteen minutes in the chaplain manager’s office. The office is small and has no windows. I kept the lights out and sat with my eyes closed in silence. When I first turned out the lights, the room was almost pitch black. The only light I could see shone from the edges of the door.
During my time in silence, I felt compelled to open my eyes. Now, even though nothing had changed in the room, my eyes began to focus. The book case and other items in the room began to take shape. The Holy Spirit reminded me of John 1:5 “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” He whispered, “we must sit in the darkness before we can see the light.”
I left that brief time in silence feeling more relaxed than I ever have before making my rounds. What is most amazing to me is that I saw a record number of patients but feel like I experienced more quality time with them.
This Morning:
We have been challenged to bless, spend time with, and pray for our unbelieving friends. I am reading and studying, for the second time, a book called Organic Outreach for Ordinary People: Sharing the Good News Naturally.
I struggle with this because when I am not at church or at work (both places where I am surrounded by people like me or who I can easily pray with/for), I am at home. All my hobbies are introverted hobbies. I do not need others to read or write or watch movies. The challenge to free up my time to be available to unbelievers is quite a perplexing challenge – at least it was until I realized that I have been successful at this in the past.
I, like so many others, hate the term “evangelism,” and saw this as someone else’s gift. I thought being in ministry was my way of getting into evangelism. Now I learn that this is flawed thinking? Okay, but how do I change? How do I free up time when I struggle to pay the bills? (my fear)
While sitting in small group this morning, with my head already throbbing, the truth hit me smack between the eyes. Before I answered the call to ministry, I made the time for evangelism, even though I had no real knowledge of what I was doing at the time.
I wrote about my idea of evangelism in my first novel. It was based on a real experience I had in college. During Holy Week one year, I hung out downtown with some of the homeless population. Anyone who knows me knows I am most comfortable in jeans, a t-shirt, and ball cap. Wearing my comfort gear, sitting next to homeless men and women, it was easy for others to mistake me for one of them.
I got a bird’s eye view, along with real-life commentary, on evangelism done wrong. On Sunday afternoons, buses would pull up next to our rag-tag gang. Out came a bunch of well dressed “Christians.” They stood in a tightly knit group, walked closely behind their pastor, handing our tracts and singing at the top of their lungs – never once making eye contact with any of us. Then, they got back into their vans and drove away. I got an earful about what these individuals believed about “their” Jesus.
Another unmarked van pulled up. No one got out. Someone inside simply threw open the doors. Many of the homeless climbed inside without a word. The ghost inside the van shut the doors and drove off. I asked someone else what that was all about. That van belonged to the mission. They picked them up, took them to lunch, then brought them back. No “evangelism” done. Just a meal.
A few years later, I drove for a nonprofit called Mobile Loaves and Fishes. It was a favor for a friend who needed a legal driver for her sociology students to fulfill a course requirement. One of our stops was tent city. It was there that I met my friend, Cowboy. He convinced me to stop with the “roach coach,” as he called it, and come down into Tent City for a cookout.
I didn’t realize it until this morning, but what those early exchanges amounted to was Cowboy calling me out – challenging my faith. In essence, he was telling me that spending a few minutes handing out sandwiches was a way for me (Christians) to feel good about myself (ourselves). If I really wanted to make a difference, I should invest in them – go spend quality time with them on their turf.
Without realizing what I was doing, I took him up on his invitation. We spent one Saturday a month grilling hotdogs and burgers. The only “religion” we brought was our prayer before we ate. No other agenda. In my mind, I wanted to stay as far away from that van group as I possibly could. I wanted to live Jesus without trying to “evangelize” anyone.
I remember one day, one of the men, who used to just get his food and wander back into the woods to his tent, hung back. After a while of watching us, he asked to speak with me in private. He asked us why we were there, what we were trying to do. I told him nothing. We were simply enjoying a meal together. He asked me why again. I said, “Because we have the same Daddy, and our Daddy told me to.” That day, he asked me to pray with him.
I didn’t realize it then, but I was “evangelizing” – not as that horrible bus group, but in my own way. Man, I loved that ministry. We did it until the great flood of 2010 wiped out the camp.
So, why was I convicted today? Because I used to be a workaholic, busier than I am these days. Still, somehow, I managed to spend time getting to know a bunch of strangers who became close friends – some I still maintain relationships with today.
This challenge for Organic Outreach is not out of my reach. Like the reality of where I am, and where I am not called to serve as a chaplain, there is a way I can serve the unchurched community today.
As we discussed this morning, uncovering the where begins with prayer – and the prayer must include the silent space for God to speak.
No comments:
Post a Comment