Today we had our first official "Revolution" meeting as we like jokingly call it. I think it is because we feel like young rebels on the church-planting scene, meeting in coffeehouses and dreaming big dreams.
Things are becoming more and more tangible, for me at least, as we develop task lists, gain team members, and put actual dates in place for our move out to California. Jason is so all over everything, it is so amazing. I remember why I thought his church plant was such a good idea in the first place, which was immediately when it came out of his mouth and about ten minutes before I started dreaming of us going with him.
The fact that people are actually signing on to this thing, after much prayer and contemplation (Hi Letitia!), is one of the things that blows me away. Now I know a slice of what Jason must have felt when we told him YES. God is in, around, and through this thing, I can just feel it. Perhaps I'm too young to feel things in my bones, but as a woman, you are never too young to have intuition. Mine says that this is going to be a great venture.
If you're inclined, I would ask any readers to be praying for us in this time of planning and preparation. We know that we need God more than anything else, but a close second is finances! God can provide those, too, by the generous hearts of His people. I believe that prayer can bring this about.
So here's the the beginning of the revolution...may it be all God wants it to be.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Promise Keepers
This morning I was reading in the Bible about King David and how God promises him that he will never be forgotten and that his name and house will be great forever. I thought to myself, "I'm reading about him. Nearly everyone I know at least knows about him. God kept His promise!" And that is exactly what I was going to write about in this blog.
However, then I stumbled upon a headline that read "Obama to lift international abortion funding ban" and I yelled aloud, "WHAT?" Talk about keeping your promises.
I'm going to be very open and transparent with everyone here. This past election was a very difficult one for me, because by casting the vote that I did, and even by allying myself with the political party that I did, I felt like I was doing many things against type. I found myself in the rather childish and odd situation of trying to excuse myself to everyone. The commentary in my head ran like this: "I'm registering Democrat (Sorry Kev), but I'm not voting for Hillary (sorry Aunt Chris and other hopeful women of the US) because I don't trust her as far as I can throw her. I'm going against my conscience just a little bit (sorry conscience) in voting for Barack Obama (at least my generation will think I did the right thing) because of his very liberal views on abortion (sorry evangelical tradition and all the unborn babies of the world)."
In the end, Barack Obama at least is posturing himself to fulfill many of his campaign promises. I don't know what the heck he plans to do about the economy, and I doubt he's going to buy you a new house, Aunt Chris, or pay for my boss' $25,000 oral surgery. But he is probably going to try. Do I value his integrity? Yes I do. Am I filled with joy and pride when I look at the black community and see how filled with joy and pride they are at this election? Yes I am. Can I still feel some remorse about the abortion issue without saying that I think I was wrong to vote for Barack Obama?
Yes, I can.
Now enjoy this hilarious video courtesy of my friend Jared's roommates.
However, then I stumbled upon a headline that read "Obama to lift international abortion funding ban" and I yelled aloud, "WHAT?" Talk about keeping your promises.
I'm going to be very open and transparent with everyone here. This past election was a very difficult one for me, because by casting the vote that I did, and even by allying myself with the political party that I did, I felt like I was doing many things against type. I found myself in the rather childish and odd situation of trying to excuse myself to everyone. The commentary in my head ran like this: "I'm registering Democrat (Sorry Kev), but I'm not voting for Hillary (sorry Aunt Chris and other hopeful women of the US) because I don't trust her as far as I can throw her. I'm going against my conscience just a little bit (sorry conscience) in voting for Barack Obama (at least my generation will think I did the right thing) because of his very liberal views on abortion (sorry evangelical tradition and all the unborn babies of the world)."
In the end, Barack Obama at least is posturing himself to fulfill many of his campaign promises. I don't know what the heck he plans to do about the economy, and I doubt he's going to buy you a new house, Aunt Chris, or pay for my boss' $25,000 oral surgery. But he is probably going to try. Do I value his integrity? Yes I do. Am I filled with joy and pride when I look at the black community and see how filled with joy and pride they are at this election? Yes I am. Can I still feel some remorse about the abortion issue without saying that I think I was wrong to vote for Barack Obama?
Yes, I can.
Now enjoy this hilarious video courtesy of my friend Jared's roommates.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Farewell to a Great Man
I returned yesterday from a trip to my old hometown of Long Beach, CA. It was a nice trip, but the reason for it was sad: my grandfather's funeral.
When I heard that my grandpa Red had died, I was instantly transported back to January 2005, almost four years ago to the day, when my Grandma Betty (Grandpa Red's wife) passed away. I was there, along with many of her other family members, in the hospital room watching death ravage her body with each passing breath. People will speak to you about the peace of death, how it is simply a part of life and all that loveliness, but I tell you it is BULL. God created this world perfect, but because of SIN, there is DEATH. It is NOT natural, pretty, comforting, or any of these things. Watching my grandmother die did have a mystical element though, as I spoke to her not knowing if she could hear or understand, clutching her hand and reassuring her that we would miss her but that she was free to go. My grandma Betty loved Jesus and I know that I will be with her again when we all gain new bodies and get to be with God forever. That was the only hope or joy that there was in her death.
Fast-forward to four years later, nearly to the day, and my Grandpa, Sergeant Major Wilbur "Red" Jones left this Earth as well. I was summoned to Long Beach to say my farewells, and be with and be comforted by my family. Many of you know how my mother and my step-dad Kevin are no longer together, and might think that going to a family reunion (of sorts) with a family that is "technically" no longer mine would be a little awkward. But you would be wrong. The Jones/Klein family IS my family, and they welcomed me like family, and I read scripture at my Grandpa's funeral like family and we all took a shot a whiskey together like family (perhaps YOUR family doesn't do that at funerals...) to honor my grandfather's memory. It was a great day.
The Marines that were there to honor one of their own were a part of the ceremony that I will not soon forget. Not only were there two men left from his company, old men now with haircuts not unlike my grandfather's which never changed over the years, but there were young men there, too. These young Marines may have never met my Grandpa, but all they needed to know was that he was a veteran of three wars (WWII, Vietnam and the Korean Conflict) with the Marine Corps, a Sergeant Major, that he was a decorated hero and that he had done a great service to our country. His memory was honored with their presence, their respect, their gun salute, and a folded American flag enshrining the bullet casings from that salute. My dad Kevin was the one to receive this flag in my Uncle Dan's stead. It was a wonderful moment, and very soon after Kevin clutched my sister and I and told us, "My mom and dad are dead. You guys are more important than ever to me now." And indeed, the less of us that there are, the more important our remaining family becomes to us.
So although I met my grandma and grandpa Jones when I was probably about ten years old, and got to spend only half of my life with them, I miss them dearly. I wore a necklace that was a gift from my grandmother to both her and my Grandpa's funerals, and I carry their little cards from the Catholic funerals around with me in my wallet, to read the prayers on the back and remember them fondly by.
I will end with the scripture that I was privileged (and surprised, thanks Kev!) to read at this most recent funeral. I choked up because I always cry when things are happy, and I think that this is a comforting passage:
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage each other with these words.
When I heard that my grandpa Red had died, I was instantly transported back to January 2005, almost four years ago to the day, when my Grandma Betty (Grandpa Red's wife) passed away. I was there, along with many of her other family members, in the hospital room watching death ravage her body with each passing breath. People will speak to you about the peace of death, how it is simply a part of life and all that loveliness, but I tell you it is BULL. God created this world perfect, but because of SIN, there is DEATH. It is NOT natural, pretty, comforting, or any of these things. Watching my grandmother die did have a mystical element though, as I spoke to her not knowing if she could hear or understand, clutching her hand and reassuring her that we would miss her but that she was free to go. My grandma Betty loved Jesus and I know that I will be with her again when we all gain new bodies and get to be with God forever. That was the only hope or joy that there was in her death.
Fast-forward to four years later, nearly to the day, and my Grandpa, Sergeant Major Wilbur "Red" Jones left this Earth as well. I was summoned to Long Beach to say my farewells, and be with and be comforted by my family. Many of you know how my mother and my step-dad Kevin are no longer together, and might think that going to a family reunion (of sorts) with a family that is "technically" no longer mine would be a little awkward. But you would be wrong. The Jones/Klein family IS my family, and they welcomed me like family, and I read scripture at my Grandpa's funeral like family and we all took a shot a whiskey together like family (perhaps YOUR family doesn't do that at funerals...) to honor my grandfather's memory. It was a great day.
The Marines that were there to honor one of their own were a part of the ceremony that I will not soon forget. Not only were there two men left from his company, old men now with haircuts not unlike my grandfather's which never changed over the years, but there were young men there, too. These young Marines may have never met my Grandpa, but all they needed to know was that he was a veteran of three wars (WWII, Vietnam and the Korean Conflict) with the Marine Corps, a Sergeant Major, that he was a decorated hero and that he had done a great service to our country. His memory was honored with their presence, their respect, their gun salute, and a folded American flag enshrining the bullet casings from that salute. My dad Kevin was the one to receive this flag in my Uncle Dan's stead. It was a wonderful moment, and very soon after Kevin clutched my sister and I and told us, "My mom and dad are dead. You guys are more important than ever to me now." And indeed, the less of us that there are, the more important our remaining family becomes to us.
So although I met my grandma and grandpa Jones when I was probably about ten years old, and got to spend only half of my life with them, I miss them dearly. I wore a necklace that was a gift from my grandmother to both her and my Grandpa's funerals, and I carry their little cards from the Catholic funerals around with me in my wallet, to read the prayers on the back and remember them fondly by.
I will end with the scripture that I was privileged (and surprised, thanks Kev!) to read at this most recent funeral. I choked up because I always cry when things are happy, and I think that this is a comforting passage:
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage each other with these words.
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