Benny

this is a story i wrote like 2 years ago.  public radio was on a mini-tour down the south eastern coast.  i always meant to blog it.  better late than never.....right?

He was a simple man, short in stature and easily overlooked.  Dressed to kill as a street urchin in a dark and faded track jacket, some stone washed jeans dated 1988 and tilted backwards on his round little head was an old ball cap that read Penske in washed out letters.  He came in and out of the kitschy, southern coffee shop briskly kindly telling everyone he saw to "be safe tonight, you hear?"  he spoke to me and i smiled.  he smiled back with a crooked, toothless grin and said "i've missed you".  as he wandered back out into the cold night it was hard not to notice his glasses.  they were well worn and forced to stay together with large pieces of masking tape, leaving little room for his dark, beady eyes to peer out from behind them.  Just enough of each lense was left un-taped to see that he did indeed have a sparkle in his eye.  

We set up our gear, ate some delicious vegetarian food, drank some fresh-squeezed limeade and began playing the set to a mostly empty room.  A quiet chess game of three men; two, young shop keepers were busy behind the counter making lattes and quesadillas, and one other headphone clad man at his laptop became our audience.  During the middle of our second song, the beady eyes behind the masking tape came in and stood cheering so loudly that the headphones came off and the chess game took a pause.  As he rooted through his 1988 stone washed pockets he yelled:  "You guys are gonna make it BIG!  You hear me?  You're gonna hit it!  Hit it BIG!  You're gonna be Big.  You're gonna make it.  And I got yer back, you hear?  I ain't gonna let anyone do anything to stop it.  The big times!"  He got close to me on stage and motioned for me to open my hands.  He dropped a crumpled dollar bill and some coins into my hand as he said "Here's my beer money, hunny".  I smiled and asked him his name.  We dedicated our next song to him.

This one goes out to Benny.  (it was Miss America)

He loved it.  The man with the headphones kept them off and made a phone call to a friend to come see the rest of our show.  The girls behind the counter came out from working  for a bit, and another girl who had been biking came in for a hot tea.  Benny loved the rest of the show and cheered incessantly after each song.  More people came in and by the end of the show, we actually sold some cd's and made some friends.  As we all packed up our gear, Luke had a talk with Benny and asked him what he thought heaven was like.  With a glimmer in his eye he answered sharp as a knife "It's a whole lot better than this place. Trust me, man".  

Later we sat outside and talked a bit more with Benny.  He informed us that he used to live in the Bronx and was apart of the Bloods gang.  But that now he just wants to help people out and keep the streets of Savannah safe.  "But I tell you guys, if anyone were to mess with you.  I got yer back, you hear me?  I'd mess up anyone that tried to mess with you guys.....in the name of the Bloods."

He didn't fool me.....I knew exactly what he meat....the blood of the Lamb that is.  My dear friends, Benny is one of the many guardian angels sent to this earth to be safety patrols and prophets to those who choose to do the work of the Lord, and see His kingdom come.  

Benny's got our back.  He'll take on anyone in the name of the Blood.

how to talk to a woman

Women are God's greatest mystery.  We are more difficult to navigate than the Bermuda Triangle.  More complex than a DNA molecule.  More ambiguous than a platypus.  Yet, believe it or not....we are apart of His crowning glory.  I have been a female for 28 years and frequently am stumped not only by my fellow females and why they do what they do, but am stumped by my own strange girly behaviors.  I'm not kidding.  Men, you couldn't be more right when you say that women are confusing.  It is so true, I cannot tell a lie.   

So I am going to step out on a limb here and try to make some "general" statements about women and what we want/need.  By no means do I think that these apply to ALL women (no that would be unheard of), nor do they apply at ALL times - again ridiculous.  If you're asking yourself why not?  Reread paragraph 1.  Since we all come from different upbringings, and we all have our own issues and fears, garbage and strengths....this little list won't fit every woman.  I am compiling this based on myself and the women I am closest to, who share their hearts frequently.

1)  Speak her language

One of the most basic ways to start understanding a woman is to learn her language.  I don't necessarily mean improving your grammar skills, but to a degree I think that analogy could work - I'll come back to this.  You've probably heard of the 5 Love Languages, a book by Dr. Gary Chapman.  To be honest, I've never actually read the book, but I do know what the 5 Love Languages are.  I know what MY love languages are and now.....after many years of marriage, I know my husband's......and I have learned that our languages are NOT the same.  As soon as I made this discovery, I realized that this is a BIG problem.  Why?  Because it meant that I couldn't express love to my husband in the same way that I wanted love expressed to me....the way that came naturally to me.  

My languages are:

1.  Gifts   

2.  Words of Affirmation

3.  Quality Time

These are the ways I receive love and give love.  These come naturally to me.  I get a high expressing love to friends and family when I execute these well and the receiver is blessed.  Let's say that I speak French.

My husband's languages are:

1.  Physical Touch

2.  Quality Time

3.  Acts of Service

Mark speaks German.  Here's where we so often miss each other.  

Example:  Mark will pet and cuddle and caress me while I'm frantic making him the "perfect dinner" (a gift), and I will get so frustrated that he won't just leave me alone so I can finish his gift and show him how much I love him.  Meanwhile, he's super miffed that I'm not returning his kisses and I'm not embracing him with the enthusiasm he was hoping for, and suddenly in the midst of trying to exchange love - the way we individually know how to exchange it - we get in a stupid fight.  What in the world?  Innocently, we both really were trying to show love to our spouse.  But we missed it; we missed each other.  I was blabbing away in French and Mark was going on in German and we didn't meet in the middle because at the time we were completely ignorant of how to talk to each other.

SOLUTION!!!  Learn another language.

I have been married over 6 years now and have survived several minor heart attacks trying to communicate my love languages to my husband.  It sounds simple....but trust me this is such a difficult thing to learn and execute well.  But when it sets in, when it becomes second nature, the glorious melody that starts beaming from your marriage makes it SO worth all the trouble.  

Example:  I love flowers.  Seriously, a bouquet of flowers in a room will literally cause joy and happiness to well up inside my heart.  I think it's because I appreciate color so much.  I dunno.  Anyways I can remember (not too long ago) physically begging my husband to buy me flowers (gifts).  He'd forget and forget and not care and then forget again.  He'd also ask me what the point was "You spend too much money on them because they're shipped all the way from effing California, then in 3 days they're dead!".  This went on for years; heartache.  I felt ignored, neglected.  Every time we'd have dinner at a friend's house I'd overly admire their bouquets of fresh cut flowers and then cry a little bit in the bathroom after my friend would romanticize about how her husband brought them home from work for her.  -gag-  I didn't think I was asking for much, really.  I wasn't begging for diamonds or expensive clothes or grandiose dinner engagements....I just wanted some flowers dammit!  Well, for whatever reason, when I got pregnant a light switch turned on for my husband and my love languages became clear as day.  It is still a complete mystery to me what happened and how....but I am surely not complaining because from then on my house has more flowers than I know what to do with.  It took a long time, but he got it.  I have been learned.  I know I am loved.

For my single friends - here's a little section on how to talk to a woman.  It's no different for you.  You still must learn her love languages.  It's so much easier to win a girl's heart if you know what her heart is longing for; what language she speaks.  She may not even know - this is where you can become an investigator.  Private Eye.... heh heh heh.  Take time to talk at length with her and discover what lights her up.  What brings out her personality the most.  

*Try something new to you.  If quality time is her thing, and (true story) she loves coffee shops and long talks by moonlight, but you're not a coffee drinker - try it anyways!  You never know, it may become something you love as well.  Or this for the ladies - if your man loves hiking or fishing and you're not out-doorsy, give it a shot anyways!  Put on a good attitude and choose to have a good time even if it's not your thing.  Again, you never know what memory you might make because you ventured into something you'd never do with your friends.  I see too many couples who don't spend time together because they're not willing to try what their partner loves.  My husband loves skateboarding, when we were dating he bought me a board and I learned how to skate (not well).  My Dad loves biking.  Out of anyone in the world to bike with him, he'd choose my Mom.  What did he do?  He bought her a bike and she bikes with him.  It doesn't have to become your "thing".  Just be willing to try something new.  I love to dance.  Mark didn't grow up dancing so he didn't feel confident to dance with me.  What did he do?  He bought us ballroom lessons for Valentine's Day one year.  It was fabulous and he was adorable.  Now he dances with me at Weddings - which was really all I ever wanted.  

I will conclude this first chapter by saying that patience is truly a virtue.  You HAVE to have grace, people.  I really never thought we'd learn each other's languages.....but we have and we still are learning everyday.  We all have a deep desire to be known.  In being known we feel loved.  Since we're only human we must have grace on our partners or spouses that we will surely love each other imperfectly.  Only the Lord knows us inside and out, and only the Lord can speak our languages flawlessly.  Don't assume because your spouse got it right once or even twice, that he's fluent.  Keep practicing.  Have grace.

Stay tuned for more of my thoughts on women, marriage, love and life.

being helpless

so...i had a baby.  he's pretty much the coolest thing i have ever experienced.  labor and delivery were an utter nightmare and i would prefer not to write that whole story today.  so i won't.  but i do want to express a profound thing the Lord has shown me through my sweet, little Noah Fox.

mark got a job, so i have been home alone, running errands alone, and unfortunately Noah does not enjoy car rides - alone.  he is fine right up until i close his door and get in the driver's seat where he can no longer see my face.  he cries and cries no matter how much i try and soothe him with my voice.  eventually he cries himself into a frenzy of sorts and then if i'm lucky....falls asleep.  it tears me to pieces not being able to calm him....even if it's just a 10 minute drive to the grocery store.  once we arrive at our destination and he sees my face again, he's totally fine.

i realized that i am not so different from Noah in this situation.  the Lord puts me in the back seat and i am strapped down to a chair, for my "safety".  i can hear His voice occasionally, but still i cry and scream because i feel as though i've been abandoned.   since i can't see Him or feel Him holding me, i instantly lose trust in Him.  i no longer believe that i am being taken care of.  and by the time He does come to me in an intimate way, i have spit up all over myself and am usually sitting in my own poo.  He cleans me up, holds me and reassures me that He was always there.  He never really left.  

all the while it was breaking His heart not being able to calm me with just His words.  all He wants is for me to trust that He has not left me, and trust that He is taking me to my next destination.  that He is in control of my future. that i am strapped to a chair for my own good, so the transition doesn't kill me.  He knows best, and is always looking out for my well-being.  jeremiah 29:11

aren't we all a mess?  i believe we are so much more helpless than we even realize.  my sweet Noah is showing me so much about myself.  may He learn early on to not only trust me, but also to trust the Lord.  

the hope of glory

having no good of myself and knowing that the only thing that separates me from anyone else is GRACE, the Lord says that Christ in ME is the hope of glory.  i feel the urge to remind myself of this scripture today and maybe for each day this week.  it is nothing that i do or don't do, it is simply Christ in me.  what a crazy concept.  it's surrender and trust and just believing these words everyday that can make things much less complex.  we are all looking for hope....

currently i house not only the King of Kings, but also my wee baby growing in my womb.  these both are the hope of glory.  oh to be a vessel.  i am so honored and so humbled by this experience.  i remind myself today that Christ in me is the hope of glory......may i begin to grasp it's meaning.

depths and lengths

there are times when i am so aware of the love of the Lord that it completely overwhelms me.  last night we stopped into one of the ongoing Morningstar break-out meetings, and as i took in the elements of the natural and supernatural, i was suddenly overwhelmed with the love of God for each person there.  we are all so hungry and so lost and so desperate....and Father loves each of us with a deep, intimate, sweetness that could only come from Him.  

Heidi Baker says if you're hungry enough you will do anything.  the Lord will meet us.  it is His good pleasure to give us the desires of our hearts.  i am thankful for the revelation He gave me last night.  it sits well on my heart today, and has given me new eyes to see each person as His; messes, scabs, wounds, walls and all.  Oh how He loves us.  the depths and lenths of it we will never truly know.

wounds

Since we have moved into our new house, the Spirit of Adoption has come upon us......well, maybe just me. We have already been through four porch kittens, with only one who remains. Stephan named him Machete because of his piercing eyes and because we all felt he needed a good, strong name in order to survive; and survived he has. (Tinsley and Spiderman: the first two kittens abandoned by their mother on Mother's day were cat-napped right off our front porch. Emperor Meowums had a wrangle with a car and went to be with Jesus.) 

For being a wild, little kitten Machete is wonderfully affectionate, and demands your lap when you sit on the acre of front porch we have. Pretty early on in our adoption of Machete, he incurred a series of injuries, leaving his meower broken, and on his back was a huge, gaping, crusty wound. Try as we may to attend to this wound, he always seemed to re-injur it. We decided that if it didn't begin healing by a certain point we'd take him to the vet and just pray it wouldn't be too expensive. The wound was what one might expect any wild animal to have: gross, bloody, stinky, oozing and crusty. (Just to describe it a little). 

One particular morning I was sitting on the porch steps drinking my coffee, taking in the morning and thanking the Lord for all His many blessings. From across the street, Machete spots me sitting on the steps and comes galloping across the road, with what appears to be a smile on his face. Immediately I grab my mug of coffee, and shuffle in my pj's and slippers off the steps to sit in a chair where he can't reach my lap. The only thought running through my head was "Ewwww, I don't want him to touch me. He's so dirty, yucky." (thinking about the gaping, oozing wound on his back). I make an attempt to get back into my little hang out with the Lord session and realize that i can't get back into it. Machete was patiently sitting at my feet staring up at me trying to meow. Suddenly I hear the Lord...

"He is not his injury"

-gulp-

Machete silently meows again

"He is NOT his injury"

Machete stares a hole in my head

I say nothing

"His identity does not lie in his wound"

"Do not withhold your love from someone because they have a dirty wound"

I begin weeping. What have I done? I can't believe I have been so selfish. What a monumental lesson this precious little kitten had taught me! I scooped him into my ams and squeezed him apologizing for all the times I withheld my love from him because of his wound. I realized that this was not just about loving orphan kittens with scrapes on their backs, this was much bigger, and that if I didn't learn it with a dirty little porch cat, I would never be effective with people who walked around with gaping wounds needing love......needing Jesus.

There is much to be learned from Machete. At least I learned a lot. If we are really willing to love......to REALLY love we have to be willing to embrace the messy ones, the dirty ones, the people with large, crusty, oozing, bloody wounds that need attention, that need love, that need Jesus. We need to love the ones who no matter how many times they've been helped with their wound, they still go back and do the same things to re-injur the same spot over and over. There are hundreds of thousands of people walking the earth with gaping wounds: divorce, post-abortion issues, drug addiction, homelessness, poverty, abuse, alcohol addiction, pornography addiction, broken hearts, depression, prostitution, and so much more. How do we view them? Do we get up and sit in a chair where they can't reach us? Where they won't inconvenience our lives? 

I have withheld love too many times because I identified a person by the wound they have incurred. The Lord called me out that day. People do not gain their identity by the pain that has been inflicted upon them. They gain their identity from the love of the Lord, and by it He calls us Sons and Daughters. He calls us righteous by the blood of the Lamb, and has given us callings and gifts. 

this is what Jesus came to do.....it is also what I hope to become:


...because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. 

       He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners,

  to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, 
       to comfort all who mourn,

  and provide for those who grieve in Zion— 
       to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, 
       the oil of gladness instead of mourning, 
      and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. 
       They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.

  They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations. 

isaiah 61


thanks for the lesson Machete, we love you.

note: Machete's wound healed up shortly after this life lesson was taught to me. He is alive and well roaming the streets of Rock Hill, coming by for foods and ministry on our giant front porch.

to fight

WEDNESDAY, JULY 18, 2007

nothing worth having comes without some kind of a fight. we are fighting. life is worth fighting for. friendship is worth fighting for. justice. truth. hope. love is worth fighting for. a treasure is only a treasure because it's hard to find. we are on a journey to fight for the hearts and minds of the depressed and lonely young people of this country. a journey to fight for the church and the embarrassingly sad state that it is in now. a journey to fight for justice and righteousness to become precedent in this country. a journey to see the end of abortion; a legal procedure that is killing off the next generation. 

i am witness to the redeemed life of one norma mcorvey. she may be more well known as jane roe from roe vs. wade 1973....the case that gave legal permission to medical experts to remove live babies from their mother's wombs in the united states of america. jane roe (or norma mcorvey) has been saved by the blood of Jesus and her redeemed life is now spent fighting to overturn that decision. i met her. she hugged and kissed me and told me i was cute. she called me a survivor because i was born in 1981, when abortion was legal; is still legal now. i have at least 3 friends who really are survivors...their mother's were visited by the Lord or an angel while they were on the table at an abortion clinic. survivors. i am proud that this is a fight we get to participate in. to save lives. is it controversial? is it risky? do pro-lifers have a chance? yes. yes. yes. we put our hope in the Lord, not in man. only the Lord can overturn an injustice such as this. not politics. not the church. not boisterous and emotional protests. i stood outside George Tiller's abortion clinic labeled "Women's Health Services" and cried. 65,000 babies. i have no protest. i don't believe in yelling about it. i don't agree with the giant posters of dead babies. i just cry. the lonely chimney loomed atop the clinic, black with the ashes of 65,000 lives. i cried. my brothers and sisters. most were 7 and 8 months old in their mother's wombs. i cry. Lord help us. you are our only hope. resurrect my heart. save my nation. save my brothers and sisters. our minds, our marriages, our families, our friendships, our churches, our health, our rv generators, our youth, our babies. nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight.