Last week I taught at KCC’s Leadership Essentials Course.   We are bringing in experts from all over Michigan to teach modules in this core leadership development class, so it was a real honor to be asked to teach one of the modules.  Anyway, I spent a lot of time in preparation for my teaching and I was getting nowhere.  The class was Tuesday night and I had three hours blocked Tuesday morning to finish my preparation.  To be honest I was really starting over on it.  I just couldn't figure out why I was having such a hard time.  I said a brief prayer as I jumped in and God stopped me in my tracks.  He brought to mind Psalm 139:23-24, "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."  I was making no progress because my motives for doing well were not pure and God-honoring.  I was more concerned about impressing people and securing a spot in their line-up of teachers than I was about people being transformed through the experience.  I spent some time in confession and asked God to purify my motives.  The whole plan then came together very quickly and the class went really well.  God got my attention big time through this journey.  Lord, purify my motives every time I have the privilege of teaching or preaching.  Thanks for the powerful reminder that motives matter.  Amen.

Are those initials familiar to you?  They stand for “Don’t trust anyone.”  Recently I heard that phrase from a dear friend who happens to be a person of color, after being betrayed by someone thought to be a friend, who happens to be white.  I could see a wall being erected around my friend’s heart.  My heart grieved, knowing that my friend will be less likely to risk relationships across ethnic lines because of this experience.

 

When we engage in a relationship with someone who is different from ourselves ethnically, socio-economically or generationally, we can either affirm the risk they took to be a friend or we can push them away from ever relating to someone like us.  Relating to people whose backgrounds may be different from our own can be messy and often, misunderstandings can occur.  But the rewards of having our worlds expand, learning from one another and growing spiritually together are huge.  Even though each of us is on a learning curve in relating to people different from ourselves, the one thing we must pursue diligently is being trustworthy.

 

I pray that KCC becomes a diverse community, filled with people who are trustworthy as they intentionally pursue authentic relationships with a real variety of people.

 

 

Every year at Christmas time I have to fight feelings of judgment.  For years now we have not done the “gift thing” much.  Our families got used to not getting gifts from us when we were broke as a newly married couple (10 years ago), so we don’t feel any pressure to give them anything now.  Until we had kids I didn’t have to do (or chose not to do) any Christmas shopping.  I gave Aaron a hug on Christmas morning and called it good.  Now we get each girl 3 gifts (online) and figure that if three were plenty for Jesus, then it’s plenty for our kids too.

 

So, when I hear about people stressing about shopping, I just can’t identify.  But all too often I confess that my not being able to identify evolves into judging people for getting into the “gift thing.”  I have gotten so smug about what I don’t do that I have not been prayerful enough about what I should do.  When I hear stories about the generosity of those around me, I am humbled and challenged. 

 

Last week I asked my three year old what gift we should make for her teachers.  She said very simply, “Let’s just love them, Mommy.”  An encouraging word, asking questions and really listening to the answers, finding out how I can pray for someone and really praying for them, a sincere thank you, a timely hug . . . those are the gifts I want to intentionally give this Christmas.  Maybe that is doing the “gift thing” after all!

On November 11th my Grandpa Emmert would have been 100 years old; he was born at 11:00 on November  11, 1911 and always told his grandchildren that schools and government buildings closed every year just to celebrate his birthday.  He died my junior year in High School (1992).  Grandpa was far from perfect, but in many ways was more like Jesus than anyone I’ve ever known.

 

1. He was always an advocate for those others ignored, rejected or marginalized.   More than once he put his very life on the line as he stood up for someone who was beaten down by life and treated unfairly by others.
2. He was radically generous.  While he was relatively poor most of his adult life, he shared all he had with others.  He bought lunch for the discouraged person sitting next to him at a local diner.  He paid more than what a horse or load of hay was really worth because he knew the seller needed the money to feed his family.
3. He was an amazing story teller.  No one could tell a story like Grandpa.  And somehow in the midst of his tales there were important truths to be learned.  He wove scripture through his stories and made the way of Jesus relevant to all who would listen to him.
4. He never placed tasks above relationships.  Regardless of what work needed to be accomplished, Grandpa took the time to listen and encourage and build memories with others.  There may have been crops waiting to be harvested, but Grandpa didn’t let that prevent him from spending the afternoon with a depressed widow or taking a neighbor kid fishing.

If we are “fully present” with the people in our lives, we begin to notice what God wants to teach us through their example and the truths of scripture become alive to us.   Whose life challenges you to be more like Jesus?  Would the people who know you best say that your life inspires them to live like Jesus?

A couple weeks ago Aaron and I took our girls to Robinette’s for a fun autumn family outing.  I dropped our camera upon getting Ryelle out of the van, breaking it and causing it to not focus.  That became a symbol for my next experience.  While standing in a play area for children, watching Kyliah go down a little slide and waiting for Aaron to return with goodies, I observed something.  An older white man was rallying his family for the “perfect” family picture in the middle of the play area.  There were lots of kids playing around where he was trying to take the picture, but he only scolded the two black kids playing.  With a scowl on his face he said to them multiple times, “Get out of my way!  I can’t have YOU in this picture!  Move!”

 

Rage welled up inside of me.  I thought to myself that it’s really HIS internal camera that is blurred, regardless of how his “perfect family picture” turns out.  I felt paralyzed in the moment.  It went so fast.  Before I knew it Aaron was back and asked why there were tears in my eyes.  I practically threw Ryelle at him and went over to the children’s mother who also returned to the play area after getting something.  I apologized for the man’s behavior and told those kids and their mom how much I regret that people don’t “get it” and no one deserves to be treated that way.  The mom was very grateful and the kids gave me shy smiles.  I also apologized that I didn’t confront the man in some way of his ignorance and rudeness to those precious kids.

 

I have revisited the scene a dozen times since then, praying for all involved . . . and wondering how many times I’ve not had my eyes open to similar situations happening right in front of me . . . asking myself how I could have better handled it . . . pondering if things like that happen around KCC . . . knowing that Jesus’ heart breaks when any of His children are marginalized or devalued or overlooked. 

 

Lord, give us a clear lens to see life through Your eyes!  Help us to be agents of love and justice.  Amen.