it's what the Lord has done in me

Let the Weak say I am strong
Let the Poor say I am Rich
Let the Blind say I can See
It's what the Lord has done in Me

Hosannah, Hosannah to the Lamb that was slain
Hosannah, Hosannah Jesus died and rose again

At Calvary we sing this quite often. I knew the first time I sang this song corporately, something began to click. We were all confessing and crying out to God -- giving Him credit for this, for what He has done. I download this song and have been listening to is quite a bit over the last couple of months (sorry roomates) because I tend to be extreme in volume levels -- either barely on or full out concert in my room.

I've been thinking about the words of this song and realizing that I am attracted to this song because it is the exact verbal expression and tune of what is in my heart most days. A few days a week I get to reside in an office at a church in Waco in which I meet with people from the community that are in need of assistance. These neighbors of ours come in all shapes and sizes, all types of needs. Some are drunk, some are hungry, some are mentally unstable, some are single mothers, some are homeless, some are working parents, some are disabled....... but each one has their own unique story of how and why they are in need and if given the time they are all willing to share.

I get paid to basically so listen to these amazing stories of humanity, surivival, desperation and love. When the timing is right there is something that typically happens within the conversation. Rather than giving me their story to get assistance -- as the story unfolds we find a greater need at the root. A Need for love, need for affirmation that they are doing the best they can, a need to know they are good people, a need to know that Hope still exists somewhere.

I leave most days from hearing these stories thinking about how I could have done more. I think about how I can get all of these stories out to God's people ---- but even if I did, would we act? When it gets too hard I like the fact that I can escape to TV and friends knowing that at the same time a friend of mine who shared her story, will that very night be warming water on the stove to use to bath her two kids because they cannot pay their gas bills, she will be braiding hair and collecting cans by night in order to help make ends meet because they are only living off her disability check, she will help her children with homework while at the same time working on GED homework using only one light in the house, she will fix a meal creatively with an electric skills, crock pot and toaster oven again because they do not have gas, and the list goes on.....

If you asked this woman how she kept going. How it was that she didn't just turn to drugs to escape it all, she will first not be able to answer because she will only see the bad things she HAS done and want you to know that..... and then she will say, "It's what the Lord has done in me."

All of these stories of true in my head of great people of faith right on our streets, in our public housing, in our neighborhoods of Waco. Nope, they don't look like cleaned up, educated missionaries that we grew up knowing and hearing about. Some of them have crack addictions..... but honestly, how much ugliness in our lives that WE can clean up? They don't have that luxury. They don't have an education to get them a job to hide behind, they don't have the ability to depend on family when time gets tough or to bail them out of a situation.... they have... GOD.

What would it be like to experience such desperation that your faith would be SO great because you ONLY had God to depend on?

And all the while..... we as Christians pass them on the road and pity them. Sometimes we just try to FIX them.. missing the greater point. The kingdom is here. All around us --- don't FIX mallory, just be FAITHFUL. So simple and yet complicated.

Look me in the eye

Tonight I helped out with Agape Meal, a meal that FBC provides one a month to the community. It is a pretty amazing ministry. FBC uses the "good dishes" if you will, they put their aprons on, members of the church cook the meal, set the tables like a fine restaurant, provide a host at each table and then at 6:00 pm the doors are open and the kingdom guests are welcomed in with smiles, hugs, and hello's.

All ages participate in eating the meal as well as preparing it. When you stand at the back of the room you hear conversations about all topics: ailing knees, addictions, the war, who stole who's ID, waco happenings, etc. It is beautiful to see class systems merging, the rich and poor talking one to another, people of all backgrounds exchanging stories and experiences while feasting! For me, it is like seeing hope with skin on.

Tonight one of the FBC church members shared the story of Zaccheaus. At one point he emphasized particularly when Jesus looked up into the tree and saw Zaccheaus. He asked us to think about that moment -- when they looked into one another's eyes and Jesus knew Zaccheaus was searching for Him.

At Agape meal -- FBC folks that particpate in this ministry have grasped the significance of what Jesus did in this interaction. He did not pass Zaccheaus by, he looked into his eyes, asked him to come down, started the relationship by going to his house. FBC may not be going to these peoples' houses OR inviting them to their own BUT that may not be far from their future. The more they break through superficial conversation, looking into their eyes they realize that behind each person or stereotype is a story -- and possibly someone searching for HOPE...in fact most likely someone searching for HOPE.

As Christians I don't think we are revolutionary when we give Joe standing on the corner a $1. I think we are revolutionary when we look him in the eye and begin a conversation if he asks us a question, finding out his story.

This is scary because if we find out his story then we might feel obligated to help, if we find out his story then we are more involved then we wanted to be....... we are busy and need to get somewhere..... we don't have enough money to keep handing out every time someone needs something....

what if there is something else going on with Joe that is causing him to ask for a $1 on the corner?

what if you asked him to go in to taco C with you and share a meal?

I find in my job as a benevolence coordinator that sometimes I feel like I am perpetuating the problem for most people. I just handout never TRULY knowing how much I am helping that person and just having to take their word most of the time. But sometimes I feel that every time someone comes into my office a mysterious exchange takes place

Usually, people start with an abrupt approach of telling their crisis situation to me -- thinking they have to speak quickly to just get their handout because I am going to crank them in and out. But when I stop them by asking questions, looking them in the eye ....all of a sudden the story unfolds. Who knew that nonverbal communication would mean so much?

How we might change the face of Christianity for some and change some churches from the inside out that we never thought would change...... if we only practiced the art of listening intently and treating otherse with as much intentionality as Jesus did with Zaccheaus.

the significance of stories

Sometimes when someone comes forth with a label for themself or perhaps makes a bold comment we immediately throw them into a cateogry, hearing everything they say from that point on through that filter, or perhaps choosing not to hear their opinion at all.

I grew up heavily influenced by the Southern Baptist church on both sides of my family. My uncle, cousin and brother are ministers. My father and both grandfathers are active deacons, grandmothers, aunts, and my mother taught VBS, Sunday School, GA's, made casseroles, ...the whole bit. I was the epitome of Baptist "church kid," growing up, spending my days gawking at missionaries and revival preachers, having them autograph my Bible and dreaming of being in the WMU someday (not kidding). I thought the older women in our church were amazing - icons of faith and the type woman I wanted to be.

My youth group experience was perhaps not so typical but I still was the kid that saw everything in black and white. I liked being at church and wanted to help as much as I could - I wanted to be there all the time. Dating was not really in the cards for me at that time and so as I stumbled upon books like "lady in waiting" as a junior high student I begin "falling in love with Jesus" and I prayed daily for wisdom. Little did I know what would happen.....

I became extremely close with my pastor's wife and she and I both had a passion and concern for the needs in our community. I had several friends that dropped out of junior high and high school becasue they were pregnat. The majority of our town was low-income and I began to see that our church did not reflect that demographic. Why? In a predominatnly Polish and Mexican population there was a strong Catholic influence in the community but there were also a lot of people not attending church.

In no time my pastor's wife and I began a ministry to the local housing projects with the youth group - soon other church members began helping and it turned into a 3 year ministry consisting of back yard Bible clubs, after-school tutoring and Bible studies for young mothers. I came to Baylor and left that experience..... praying it would continue.

While servining in the ministry I saw people from different worlds become friends -- barriers were worn down once people gave each other the time of day.. there wa sa mystery in that exchange that changed me forever. One child did not attend our Bible club for two weeks and I later found out that she had been sexually molested by her mom's boyfriend so severly that she, 9 yrs old, was hospitalized for two weeks. This tore me a part. Why would this happen to her and not me?? What was so special about me that I would be privileged enough to never go through something like this? We are all God's children, right?

In the midst of that ministry experience I realized that we were joining God at work and I knew I wanted to do that for the rest of my life.

Fast forward = I came to Baylor and eventually chose social work as a major. I learned about poverty, systemic issues in our world today, the possible causes and enablers of these issues and the effects it has on people. I learned all of these things through the filter of a Christian -- constantly thinking about Jesus' life and what our imitation of Him truly looks like.

I realized that God was calling me to something great - perhaps not in American Success but something significant for Him. I began thinking about the gaps in our church ministry approaches. We evangelize but do not always effectivley meet immediate needs -- I read books about this...but that was not what turned the light bulb on. It was meeting the people face to face that have been hurt by the church, looking into their eyes, hearing and feeling their pain. How could we be overlooking these people daily? How could we be so ignorant to push our agenda on them wihtout ever LISTENING?

Fast forward Again = two summers ago I attend a Southern Baptist college retreat week with my home church. At some of the women's classes for our age they talked about female roles in ministry. They felt that women should never have a vocal role in ministry. i began reflecting on my life and thought about how God had used me up until that point. Many times I had been asked to "speak" at church, when the budget committee refused to fund our bible clubs that were TRULY meeting needs in the community I had to go before them, I spoke at FCA meetings and see you at the pole, etc, etc. In each of those experiences I distinctly remember God using me in a specific way and truly felt that He had spoken through me in some cases (I literally think that). I knew I had a passion for seeing the Church truly understand how to love the poor and to bridge the gap between our churches and the populations we are not reaching. I knew this would require a vocal role -- so what was I to do?

I visited with one of the leaders and after many tears she said she was not for sure but perhaps a male had failed in my life and that is why I felt the need to rise to leadership positions and speak in church........

So you see, I did not learn about feminists or radicals and just decide to put that label on myself The truth is, I do not know what labels suit me --- politically, spiritually, etc. Life just happened and I kept moving forward. The more I asked for wisdom, the more I was open to seeking the life of Jesus and living it out the more I encountered these situations: God using me in the church, with the poor, etc. If that makes me "radical" so be it...I say it just makes me a Christian. The hurting are my responsibility not because I am a social worker, but just because I am a follower of Jesus.

I cherish my Southern Baptist roots, but as a female that God is using in ministry it hurts so much to hear that my God would only use me if a male had failed first. How small is that God? It hurts me to hear that only "some" churches or "certain people" are meant to minister to the poor..... How small is that God?

Before you are quick to THINK about it logically -- how many conversations have you had with the guy/girl that is hungry, have you looked in their eyes and truly just listened?

My friends, there is ALWAYS a story....a unique story... just when you think you can throw people into a category... there is always a story. This is a lesson I have to remind myself of daily.