Missing shards and cracked clay....

It's Saturday...the morning after the shooting in Conneticut where 26 lives were cut short.....I sit in my friend's living room, numb and asking God for comfort...all I could think about were the children in my life and how much I just wanted to hold them.  So, what follows is just my processing from that morning....

"The eyes of the Lord are in every place,
    watching the evil and the good." Proverbs 15:3

Da- you see- you do not stand aside or turn away or ignore...You see and your heart is broken and filled with grief and pain.  Your arms ache to hold, your throat tightens with a voice clogged and the wail of anguish is so deep there is no sound.  You long for the invitation...to be allowed in, to be given permission to enter.

You see and when invited, you rush in like a refreshing breeze in a stifled place and in your gentleness you pick up the broken pieces and hold them in your hands.  Your heart's eye sees the orginal masterpiece and though you are saddened by the result of destruction you, being the Creator, begin to slowly smile.  A light burns in your eyes and with the kindness of unfamthomable grace and mercy, instead of throwing away the broken work, you sit down and with new clay you begin to put back together the broken pieces.

You see- you do not stand aside or turn away or ignore...You wait for an invitation.  You see- the shards that were stolen and grieve, but you also see the pieces that remain and you fit them together and fill in the cracks and smooth the rough jagged edges- soon the piece takes shape.  It is not exactly like the old, but it does resemble it.  Now it has new, stronger lines, deeper ridges, longer curves and higher sides.  It's capacity for use has grown and become more versatile.  It is the same core, but yet an almost completely different functional piece.

You see- you set it aside for a short time to harden the new clay- allowing the pieces to join, settle and the permanence of change- to rest a little.  Then you wait.  Time, just a little, just enough- you have a plan- there will be a firing in the kiln and the finish will be immaculate but first some decorating on the outside, a little paint and polish to lighten some of the clay color and a little joy in the anticipation of all the possibilities available to make this piece all it could be.

You see.  You wait.  Time.  The cracks are still visible, but no longer weak or raw, in the right light and at the right angle you can tell they are there.  They are no longer the focal point of the piece.  They are a  reminder now of the masterful work of grace and mercy, of the broken heart, tight throated anguish that once was and has now been turned to joy, to wholeness, to hope.

You see it all, and though I don't understand why I have peace.  You see and I know I can trust.  You see and because you see I have hope.

Niko September 2012

September Niko 2012

 We just completed our last Niko of the summer.  It was an amazing time.  We had a group from our Basic Leadership school from YWAM Salem and another college age group from Corvallis, Oregon.  I have included this note below from one of the staff who came and participated with us and brought the group from Corvallis.  God deserves all the praise!  He is always about His work in such loving ways.

"I wanted to let you all know that I was so blessed this year at NIKO. All of us girls, including M... and C...., were sad to leave by the time it was finished. It was a great foundational block to lay for the beginning of the year and there is a love that is forming between all of us.

I wanted to say thanks on my part. You guys are so full of Jesus it shines so bright. The wisdom and discernment I saw made me want to seek Jesus more. You have an anointing to speak into peoples lives words of truth and it's something I'm asking Jesus to instill greater in me.

The love and respect you had for each other and for all the participants was sincere. You trusted everyone despite the possibility of failure, which in the end produced greater growth.

I have a passion to worship Jesus and lead others into worship. When in lived in the DR I found a freedom in leading worship. I never experienced it before...but the grace that was poured out on me to mess up, to not be perfect...It unlocked a door that I had no idea how to unlock, though I was trying and trying. I haven't experienced it since being back here in the States.

I experienced it again at NIKO. I messed up, I wasn't perfect, I struggled at times. But I felt such a grace from everyone to just be. To not rest in my own strength but rest in Jesus. I never once felt shame at the end of worship. because once again i was able to just purely worship Jesus and not feel like people were looking for a performance.

Anyways. Thanks for all you guys do. it is impacting the Kingdom."

I just wanted to share what you have all been a part of both in prayer and support.  Thank you for furthering the Kingdom by partnering together in this ministry!

Blessings,
Rhoda

Astoria Oregon at the site of a ship wreck

Sunday Drive...a little point and shoot time...

Sunset in a puddle...south east Salem

Always amazed by the way God paints the sky

..a little light and shadow..

.....friends who can appreciate an Oregon beach in February...

I wanted to share a few pictures from last month in no particular order.  I love all the seasons in Oregon.  I love the light and how it changes the world to bright colors of green, blue and red....even gray is beautiful in the right light.   Made me think of people....in the right light....we're each an amazing creation of God.  How often do I view people through the light of their circumstances or mine rather than simply choose to see them as made in God's image and unique?  It gives grace and compassion a whole new definition.  I heard a quote the other day that stuck with me.  "Circumstances are not the barometer of God's love for us...the cross is."  Circumstances only tell us we are in a situation....the cross tells us that no matter what we see now, we are loved that much....even to the point of death.  Light makes all the difference.

"Be still and know that I am God". Ps. 46:10

I took this picture when I was in B.C. Canada...it was on an old piece of fence at the corner of an intersection.  It struck me at the time, maybe for it's age. I like things that seem to tell a story...I almost wish they could speak.  Maybe that is what overwhelms me and makes me a lousy garage saler...instead of a good deal, it feels like I'm pawing through what was once someone's life, almost as though I am callous.  It's not true, I only fight that feeling once in a while, usually I simply have no patience for it.  My organized world finds garage sales overwhelming and thus easily annoyed. Let it be said, I am impressed almost more with some peoples patience in the hunt than I am the good deal!  However, this post was not about shopping at garage sales. 
     I have been pondering on a thing or two and thought I'd throw it out there...for what it's worth...take it with a grain of salt.  This post box reminded me of something God has been putting on my heart as of late. 
     'Story'-what is story, what is it to really engage in someone's Story, to be fully present in being with them in the midst of either the writing, telling or retelling of someone's life?  I have had many a person tell me their story and likewise shared my own.  I have had story described to me as where my story and God's story overlap like two circles-a description of relationship with God.  I have heard it described as the 'old man' and the 'new man'. The difference between Savior and Lordship.  I have heard it described as 'testimony'.  These descriptions are good, but lately they have felt hollow.  Those all seem so cathartic, almost get rid of one and it no longer affects the other.  I think Story is messier than that, although it is true in the sense of value, our value only comes on the merits of God's grace and nothing we have done. The Story isn't cut, dry, or clean.  I think God has been speaking to me that when it comes to Story, it is sentences, chapters, plots, characters, books and series.  Sometimes I have no clue what or where the author is heading, but I tag along to see anyway.  Almost a raw anticipation and then a holding of my breath for the next turn in the plot.  Sometimes I can't even keep up with all the characters or connections. All the time looking for the message in the pages, the endless width of a binding....people are like that-from one moment to the next we change lines, phrases and chapters-do I take the time to read the plot or sometimes walk with them as they write?
    I wondered at the story behind the post box.  Who lived there and what was their life like?  The box was rough, dinged, dented, faded in color, but it was what was inside that received and delivered the messages....available space.  Story-needs available space...I think for me that is what 'be still and know that I am God' from Psalm 46:10 means....making a place of available space to live Story in those He chooses to put in my life.  Whatever the outside, whatever the plot in the paragraphs-do I make available space for Story when I am with others?  What is it to 'be still', 'to know', 'that I am God'?  There is a lot of rawness to that sentence....a lot of room is needed to explore for the answers and to be vulnerable, really vulnerable...space implies the removal of one thing to make room for something to fill it....He's working on my availability...'know that I am God'...when I think of His character, making available space-that's a lot easier to swallow.  It also makes me stop and ask Him for the where, when and with who I spend the time He's giving me...
     I have concluded one thing in this rambling and rumbling around with God on Story and people.  There is no substitute when I take the time for others...to walk, to listen and sometimes to write Story with them...the joy and life that flows into my own Story always surprises and amazes me.  There was this old farmer that lived close to where I grew up in Ireland.  He'd come over to our house and share a cup of tea and the way he used his adjectives to describe something always intrigued me...if he was impressed with something he'd say, "That is fierce lovely!"  Sounds best with an Irish accent, however, when I see the picture of the old post box and wonder about the owners story, think about people and Story, I agree with the farmer..."that is fierce lovely".