The Clothers...

The Perfect Church

Cynthia and I are entering yet another season of change. God has moved us on from the church plant we've been with the last year or so.

We have learned a lot and have grown a lot during the last two years since relocating 1000 miles from our church home of 20 years.

We've stayed true to who we are in Christ, and His call on us here in Oxnard. We have made many new friends, and I don't think we've lost any. And now we need to settle into a new local family.

I can't help but love the local church, in all it's different forms. I have friends in leadership at 8 or so local churches that are each a slightly different expression from conservative to charismatic. 

One of the local leaders has started a monthly gathering called "One Church." People from all different churches come together to pray and worship together in public spaces. It's small right now, but it's a big step in the right direction.

God's heart for His church is that we be one.

One church, but not under one roof, under one Truth.

I believe we are witnessing God moving in Ventura County. And it doesn't look like just one local church growing exponentially with multiple campuses, it looks like multiple local churches all over the place talking to each other like the family that we are called to be and mobilizing our people to love this county with the good news of Jesus.

I love being connected to so many churches, but at the end of the day, Cynthia and I are asking God what local body do we belong in? We can see all that was accomplished through being a part of Seed the last 18 months, and now we have a new assignment. So how do we know? Where do we go?

Well, I can tell you this. The perfect local church for us is the one God wants us involved in. In my next blog, I'll explore what that might look like.

What local church do you belong in? Where can God best grow you and release you as His ambassador with the Good News that God wants others to join His family too?

 

 

The New Normal

I was chatting with our missionary friend Rachel Graham about getting used to living in Uganda as missionaries. They've only been there a few months.

Everything is different. She and Daniel are far from family and what they had come to consider "normal" especially during Christmas.

On Christmas day, the road they were traveling was clogged with baboons. Baboons! Most of us probably don't experience that every day.

As we talked, I was sharing our Christmases have been pretty different too. Last year my Brother died unexpectedly just before Christmas. This year we had a close friend pass, felt lead to leave our little church plant, Cynthia's MS related pain is at an all time high, and the brother-in-law of the young lady living with us went missing in Portland.

We spent a quiet Christmas, 1000 miles away from our traditional family gatherings, but it felt right. Our Christmas was joyful. We weren't trying to replicate past Christmas experiences or even create new ones. We chose to be fully present in this one as we celebrated the birth of our Saviour, trusting God that this is just what we are to be experiencing at this moment in time.

As Rachel and I talked, we reflected on our tendency to want to get back to what we feel is "normal" instead of fully embracing where we are now, where God has called us, as our "new normal." We can get so caught up in trying to make things feel the same as they did at another time that we don't let go of the past, and we miss developing a real appreciation for where we are now, what we are learning, and the journey before us.

I continue to learn...

Trust God with where you are.

Stop trying to get back to where you were.

Entrust God with where you are going.

Be at peace.

On Assignment

We live in a beautiful, beat up, delightful place.

We live close to downtown Oxnard in the old neighborhood on a busy street. The neighbors are mostly Latino, with multiple families and generations packed into many of the houses where English is a second language, if at all.

The ambulance, police, and fire department use our street frequently, so sirens are common.

We are close to the little airport and train tracks, so we hear planes, trains, and automobiles as white noise. All around us are the sounds of life. And we love it. 

We live well here as a part of our community, and love on people as we cross paths. That's the blessing of living where a lot of people are; you don't have to look far to be on assignment. The assignment God gave us to love people in His name.

Saturday night a helicopter was circling non-stop a few blocks away over Colonia, a barrio known for its trouble. A chaotic gun battle between cops and two young men broke out as they ran from a traffic stop. One was killed, the other wounded. A third young man shot and killed was apparently an innocent by stander out for a jog,

Sunday, in the dead of night, we awoke to someone pounding on our door downstairs over and over again screaming for "Bobby." I found a little old man at my door with a walker and an oxygen tank looking for his caregiver's house because he couldn't find his pills. I sent away two squad cars responding to the screaming, and connected with my neighbor at 3AM, the caregiver.

A crazy weekend for sure, and not very typical. As I told my weekend stories in the office, I preambled with"first of all, know that we love living right in the middle of Oxnard..." And we do.

In spite of all the activity around us, our house is quiet and peaceful. Perhaps its just that we are quiet and peaceful in knowing we are here in the busyness, on assignment to bring some more of God's love to the community. And at times, like Saturday night, you can see it needs some love.

Where does God have you on assignment? Who do you get to love on in Jesus name?

 

 

 

 

 

Are you living in a hedge?

My experience feeding the cat that lives in our hedge has been insightful.

I've been feeding him now for about three weeks, but he still doesn't trust me at all.  

I just want him to be comfortable around me. I don't know exactly why, but it's like, "hey I provide for you, you'd think you'd at least spend some time in my presence..."

I've started putting his food out when I'm on the porch, so he has no choice. Food equals time in my presence. He's gradually getting the pattern.

He has three locations where he assesses the risk of coming into my presence.

Out on the side walk 20 feet away, he peers into the porch and watches me.

After 5 minutes or so, he advances to where he can see my reflection in the window, but no direct line of site.

Then after some more time, he comes up the steps and watches me eye to eye, slowly advancing to the food.

While eating with me close by, he is jumpy and makes a run for it at the slightest change around him. One day, I hope he will realize he is safe with me. Safer than living in the hedge. 

Doesn't that sound familiar?

We chose to live in the hedge of the world; at times, struggling for our provision, afraid of the world around us. And all the time, God is on the porch, He will provide for us. We just need to be comfortable in His presence. Jesus makes that possible.

Don't live in the hedge. It's dangerous and difficult. Come up on the porch. It's not only safe, it's where we belong; in God's presence.

Black Cats, Seagulls, and People in the Streets

As long as we've lived here in the Magnolia House, we have seen a black cat around, usually hiding in the shadows or sunning out in the backyard when no one's around.

He has seemed to be fine fending for himself all this time until recently. He stood on our sidewalk in the night and gave me a howl. He looked hungry. Maybe the mouse population is down or something.

I went to Bi-Mart, bought some Friskies, and started setting out a bowl of food and water each day. Under the cover of darkness, he slips up onto the porch for dinner each night.

I tried to watch him through the window, but he got spooked and ran off. I've left him alone to private meals since. I'm moving his meal time to morning. Maybe one day he'll trust me enough to get close.

There are others that are needy in our neighborhood. Every Tuesday is garbage day and early in the morning people go through the garbage cans looking for recyclables to exchange for a little money to live.

They try not to be seen, but realize it's hard when the garbage cans are all in the street. We leave our bottles and cans in a bag out by the fence so folks don't have to go digging for them. It seems like the right thing to do.

Then, after it's lighter, the street fills with seagulls. It's almost like a scene from Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" as they flock together and look for breakfast in a week's worth of food scraps up and down the street.

God's creatures in search of food. Some times physical food, some times spiritual food. God will provide for them. Sometimes it's through you and me. Who do you know that is hungry?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

40 Days Solo and Proof there's a God.

I dropped Miss Cynthia off at the airport this morning for her journey to Pennsylvania.

She'll take a shuttle, a plane, a train, and a car ride to arrive at the kid's place in 12 hours. Sounds crazy.

Crazier yet, we'll be apart 40 days.

We just celebrated our 32nd anniversary, and are celebrating the birth of our granddaughter.

Mirabelle Lucia was born Sunday on Father's Day and her parent's 8th anniversary.

Cynthia will be with Chris, Cate, Finley, and Simon to help out with their new family member and chores around the household. Me? Well I've got 40 days to come up with some semblance of a pottery studio in our back yard shed, among other things...

With today's technology, Cynthia and I won't be far apart. With our I-phones I'll be able to ring her up and point the camera around to show her what I've been up to, ask about her day, and of course, ask where stuff is.

I treasure my wife. She is such a blessing and profound evidence of God's hand on Earth. How else would a guy like me end up with a wife like Miss Cynthia?

Who do you treasure in your life as a gift from God?

 

Releasing the past

This week Miss Cynthia and I took the plunge and changed our identity.

Month's ago Pastor Shaun had encouraged all of the Portlanders involved in planting Seed to release ourselves from our Portland cell prefixes and get an 805, Ventura County's area code. He explained that in order to reach our community we need to join our community.

All of us tend to hang on to the past for some sense of foundation, identity, security, a safety net...

Without a doubt, Oxnard is our new home. At least for as long as God chooses. We own a home here, our cars are registered here and we have California driver's licenses, we have friends here, a job here, a church here. We attended the neighborhood meeting and hosted a dumpster for Neighborhhood clean-up day. We are making feeble attempts at learning Spanish.

But then there were our cell numbers; the last bastion of Portland identity we were dragging around with us everywhere we went. The 503's... the one thing we seemed to be hanging onto. Familiar numbers that everyone we care about "back home" can use to get a hold of us, as if we'd never left Portland.

Well, this is our home, and Wednesday night we released ourselves to that in the final hold out of our identity at the local cell phone store. We have 805 numbers now.

Ultimately our identity is in Christ, which transcends location. When God has His own area code, we'll switch to that. For now, find us in the 805, fully present, fully blessed.

What are you hanging onto? Are you fully present where God has called you? Fully embracing your community as Christ's beacon of the Gospel Truth?

 

 

Relentless Leadership

My wife blew me away last Friday night at the LAX airport.

We arrived with plenty of time for our flight to Spokane through Denver, only to find ourselves waiting at the gate for our plane to be repaired.

As minutes of delay moved towards hours, Cynthia announced "we're never going to make our connecting flight..." and off she went, while I worked away on my laptop.

I looked up 30 minutes later to see her leaning over the counter working over our flight options with one of the employees. She came over to me and announced "We're going to Seattle, and heading to Spokane in the morning" and back up to the counter she went. I went back to work and 30 minutes later I looked up and there she is still at the counter. "We've missed that flight" she announces. I go back to work.

Finally she comes back and announces "We're flying to Portland for the night, and Spokane in the morning. The flight leaves in 35 minutes."

At this point we've been at the airport for four and a half hours. Off we run towards our new gate. I ask "So where is it?" and Cynthia responds "I don't know. It's in terminal 3." Yikes, we're in terminal six. "Where are we staying tonight?" I asked. "My sister's. She's picking us up at 11:30 and dropping us back off at 5:30..." "Holy smokes, you asked her to do that?!" And we kept running.

At the side walk we're told it will take 20 minutes to get to the other terminal, unless we cut through the parking garage. Off we run, first into a parking lot that's fenced on the other side, back out, down the street, across the parking garage, and to terminal 2. We ran down the side walk a couple hundred yards, me chasing after her, into a sea of High Schoolers in line waiting for security.

Cynthia asked the guard if we could go first and learned we didn't have real boarding passes. I was ready to give up, but not Cynthia. Over to the ticket counter we go. We asked if we could be pushed to the front of the security line and are told "Nope, you have to wait in line." I'm ready to give up again. Cynthia was not.

So back to security we went. Before us were about 200 high schoolers in a line zig-zagging back and forth in front of security. I said "there's no way, let's go get a hotel" but off Cynthia went, nudging the crowded line to the right, dragging her blue suitcase behind her. "Excuse me, my flights about to leave, excuse me!" with me behind her "I'm with the lady with the blue suit case."

At the gate, we learned we were not in the system (even computers aren't that fast), and I thought all was lost. With another push from Cynthia, the flight attendant had us seats, and we were on the plane just in time. I sat down with a couple of strangers with my head still spinning and told my story... Crazy.

At Cynthia's sister's house, we enjoyed a late night glass of wine and a few snacks and laughed about the evening. And after a few hours of sleep, we were back at the airport headed for an 8AM arrival in Spokane. My wife was relentless. My brother's memorial service was at noon, and we were there with plenty of time to spare and a story to tell.

What are you relentless about?

Skid Row

My friend and coworker, April, took me on a tour of Skid Row in LA yesterday. She has done a lot of ministry on the streets and knew her way around like she lives on them (she doesn't).

We toured PATH (People Assisting The Homeless) in Hollywood, and then Union Rescue Mission and the Weingart Center on Skid Row.

Between them they house 1500 or so people (and these are only three of many services), helping folks get a new start with social work, and in the Rescue Mission's case, Biblical discipleship. The homeless population in LA is estimated at 51,000 on a given night.

Skid Row is not quite as daunting as I imagined, but I've also gotten more used to hanging out with the homeless. We strolled down various streets amongst the population, drawing no attention in some cases, and a few comments in others. One person suggested I was a touring "philanthropist" and another asked April if that was her real hair color (red). I overheard a couple of guys combining their resources, one saying "OK, we've got twenty three cents..."

In LA they have made it legal to sleep on the streets, and illegal to remove someone's stuff from the sidewalk; both respecting and also perpetuating the look and feel of an area with a concentration of nearly 5000 that simply live on the streets here.

At the end of the day, I had met people serving the homeless who believe help hinges on case management and social work, others who believe the real hope lies in a relationship to God, and me concluding it's a little of both. People must want change and have hope that it can happen. Social work can only get you so far. Real change comes from the transforming power of God in our lives.

I like the expression that people don't care how much you know until they know how much you care. I enjoy being in a ministry where the first step is caring; meeting people where they are at, then offering hope and a framework for life change built on Jesus.

I love the Lord's Prayer... here's an excerpt: "Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." It's our job to bring God's kingdom to earth. And guess what? There's no skid row in His kingdom. Everyone is loved and cared for.

Here's to giving everyone we meet a taste of God's kingdom through loving care and compassion.

Empty Nesters once again

Friday we took our kids and grandkids to the airport. They are off to their next chapter of life in Pennsylvania, after living as a three generation household with us this last year in Oxnard.

They are now living at Camphill Soltane again, outside of Philadelphia. This intentional community is formed around the care and education of learning disabled young adults.

Soltane has fond memories for us. Chris and Cate served there for three years, Finley was born there, and many of our vacations were spent there.

After finishing up some more education, and some soul searching, Chris and Cate have re-engaged this community and will raise their family at Soltane for the foreseeable future.

So, our big ol' Oxnard house is kind of quiet. Our next chapter here in the Magnolia House looks like lots of remodeling, lots of guests, and lots of trips to Pennsylvania!

Here's an aerial view of Camphill Soltane, and where the kids are right now:

With lots of room to roam, and a community with shared values, the family will do great. We're excited to visit there once again, probably this August after Cate has grandchild number three!

We hear Simon was not quite sure what to do about the cold weather, and that Finley had already been out helping tap maple trees to make maple syrup...

Can't wait to see them all again!