Lori Stanley Roeleveld's Blog, page 39

Why We Shouldn’t Look Away – Unflinching in the Face of Suffering

I drive a lot for work, so I listen to talk radio. For the past two days, the hot topic in Rhode Island has been panhandlers. One lawmaker introduced legislation making it illegal for motorists to hand anything to panhandlers at intersections (essentially fining generosity for the sake of safety and traffic flow – debate among yourselves.) It wasn’t the legislation that concerned me, instead, it was an offshoot conversation that emerged I found distressful.

Several callers reported running red lights at intersections to avoid having to sit at the stop and look at a panhandler. They didn’t report being afraid. Instead, they said things like “I just can’t stare at a poor person for three minutes without it ruining my day.” “I can’t take that, man, staring at someone like that. I’d feel too guilty.” “I don’t need a guilt trip at a traffic light. There are some things I just don’t want to see.” One caller even described a Rhode Island judge who will forgive tickets for people who sped through an intersection to avoid sitting there looking at a panhandler. He jokes about it in his courtroom (no names were given.)

To me, THIS is the conversation. Safety at intersections is important and there are risks to motorists and to panhandlers if they engage in transactions in traffic no matter how worthy but can we talk about how we’ve become a society that will risk a car accident and a traffic fine just to avoid seeing someone in need asking for help?

All the time I was listening to the callers, Isaiah 53:3 went through my mind: “He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” (ESV) Is there any way to be more like Jesus in His suffering than to be a person from whom others turn away, someone others run to avoid seeing, someone that others must make somehow less than human to keep their own worlds in order? And I, if I am a fisher of men, how would I justify trying not to see those I am sent to seek, simply for my own emotional comfort?

Too many of us try to devise our own armor for surviving life in a fallen world. We believe that when God warns us in Proverbs to “Guard our hearts,” it means that we should fashion a shield around them or harden them against the hardships of this world. As someone who sits every day at kitchen tables or in barren homeless shelter rooms with people who suffer, I can tell you I understand that temptation. I’ve met people in my line of work who have succeeded in hardening their hearts and it’s sad. You see, there’s no way to isolate that hardness. Eventually, it creeps into all areas of one’s life until a person’s pulled off a “reverse Pinocchio” and walks around like animated petrified wood.

I’m not suggesting the answer is to spend our days weeping or to impoverish ourselves giving to everyone with an outstretched hand. I would be paralyzed with emotional pain if I didn’t find a way to function without taking every hurt on as my own. Thankfully, we know Jesus, and He promises to walk with us into each situation. He provides an armor that guards our hearts without us needing to make them hard.  Yes, sometimes they bleed but He is the ultimate healer.

Jesus (through the Bible and the Holy Spirit) offers wisdom about when to give and when to hold back, when to weep and when to exhort, when to comfort and when to correct. He tells us He chose the place and circumstances of our birth so we don’t bear guilt for where we started, the color of our skin, or the help we had along the way but if we are blessed with fortunate circumstances, we believe God does expect us to use that fortunate position to serve others.

You see, Satan offers a false guilt that is so heavy and inescapable we would rather blind ourselves to the suffering of others than to bear it. That’s what was at play (along with the nature of humans to avoid discomfort) during yesterday’s phone calls. Jesus can free us from that snare. He deals in guilt but only actual guilt and He even provided the answer to that with His own blood. When we help others, it can be from a place of freedom, as ambassadors of Christ, as agents of love in the world. He frees us to see human suffering and not turn away.

It’s never comfortable to encounter our own limitations. If I wasn’t a Christian, I would have to shut down to suffering, too. The thing is, that shutting down, that turning away, it’s not just a form of avoidance but it’s the practice of dehumanizing another person. It’s a way of saying “To me, you don’t exist, you’re not there, I wish you would go away.” If we make a habit of this, it becomes a lifestyle, one that makes it easy to talk about “those people” or “the poor” or “the needy” as if they are some type of human being different from us.

Jesus experienced this turning away. He was born to a poor couple. I imagine many averted their eyes from Joseph and Mary as they sought shelter in Bethlehem. And Jesus was a person to many when He entered Jerusalem in triumph but once the religious leaders stirred the crowds against Him, He was a nuisance, a criminal, something people wanted to go away. They turned their eyes from this man who was scourged, mocked, and crowned with thorns. They dehumanized our God who inhabited our humanity to save us. Now, Jesus calls us to be like Him, not like the crowd who turned away.

Because Christ lives within us, We are free to look at a suffering person and not harden our hearts. It hurts. It’s uncomfortable. Sometimes we can help; often we can’t but we can refuse to turn away. We can be a witness. We can acknowledge them as human. We can say with our eyes, “I could be where you are and I care.” And we can ask Jesus to lead us in that moment. Speak to us. Direct our intercession and our actions. Teach us to remain open-hearted in a world of suffering as a testimony to the strength and power of Jesus Christ.

When we sing “Open our eyes, Lord, we want to see Jesus,” let it remind us to keep them open once we leave the sanctuary so we can see Jesus even if He’s suffering on a street corner at the next red light.

In the spirit of the season, my Jesus-loving publisher is releasing Running from a Crazy Man (and other adventures traveling with Jesus) on Kindle FOR FREE Thursday 12/8 through Saturday 12/10! I LOVE THIS! Download it for yourself, email a copy to a friend, and spread the word. I care more that people have access to the message of endurance in this book than I do about making any money from it so please, spread the joy!

Why we shouldn’t look away – unflinching in the face of suffering https://t.co/eEZIuR2Ktu #panhandlers #RhodeIsland #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) December 7, 2016

A Modern Magnificat – for Our God Who is like No Other

In the weeks of Advent,

we remember the waiting, the generations before us who searched and longed for your arrival, the millions who studied, prayed, and longed for a glimpse of Your promised deliverance. Countless God-lovers heard You whisper that it would be a people yet to come who would be blessed with knowing God made flesh dwelling among us, and here, now, we are that people. We are the generation blessed to live in the time after the waiting, the generation honored to have You in our history, in our now, and in our time to come, the people of Your own choosing who dare to call God our Friend.

And here I am a woman of my time, blessed and besieged, humbled and harried, aware, awake, and abiding in You with arms raised to Heaven but feet hard on the packed earth from which my people came. And do you see me Jesus? Do you know my name, my dreams, my failings, and my fears? Do you hear my prayers, my heartbeat, my angry outbursts, my confessions and celebrations? Can you feel my sighs, my songs, my sadness, my sorrows, my longings, my lament? Can you touch my wounds, my soiled soul, my shattered sureness, my faltering faith and scaffold me round with an endless dispensation of grace enough to shore me up from the ground to glory? And Jesus will you get me home with those I love, safely to the heart of our great Father? Yes, I know you can, you do, you will. And in this, I trust and wait like those before me.

What can I offer the King of Kings who has no need, who knows no want, who spoke the world into being? Only words. But how can they be only if you came as The Word? If I’m accountable for every word, if cursing and blessing affect change in the world, if You called to me through Your written Word then is it any small gift to offer you all that I have: my small life, my raw spirit, my words that pour from the overflow of a heart inhabited by You as You make it new? Your Spirit lives within me and from inside me You call to Yourself and the channel for this connection is the words that spring to mind and emerge through my fingertips and tongue.

Jesus, there is no God like You.  For one, You are no invention of humankind but we were Your idea, conceived in Your endlessly fertile and infinite mind. You are, at once, unchanging and surprising, timeless and relevant, above the Heavens and yet, personal and here aware of my hurt, in tune with my worship, patient with my questions, and gentle with my doubts. I marvel at all Your creation – the engineering, the artistry, the biology, the algorithms, the composition and architecture, the craftsmanship and calculations, the geography and geology, the imagination and endless wisdom. You surround us with a planet that testifies to Your existence, Your attendance, Your intelligence, Your humor, and Your great adventurous heart.

You’ve no need for me to defend You, in fact, You promise to defend me. You’re not a God who needs me to carry You, in fact, You carry me. You’re so secure in Your power and might, You arrived naked and squalling from Mary’s womb in a time before vaccinations and mass media, proving that even vulnerable and isolated You could walk among us and change the world. You don’t reject our humanity, you inhabited it and showed us the potential in it even as we cried out for You to be crucified on a tree we sawed down for the purpose of punishment and death. Then, Your deity broke out of death, purchasing our freedom and blazing the trail for our own path to eternal life, You, Jesus, alive now forever, brokering mercy for us daily before the Father’s throne, pleading peace for those who devised Your destruction because Your love and truth showed us our need for You.

You are a God available. You are a God accessible. You are a God just, righteous, loving, patient, and full of mercy. You are a God steadfast in love and faithful in purpose. You are a God present. You are a God magnificent. You are a God of universe and stars, buttercups and babies, cathedrals and caverns, sanctuaries and slums, there is no place we can go You will not find us, see us, love us, rescue us, or hunt us down when we run from the only love that relentlessly saves us.

I am a woman of my time and I see us on a fearful path, a divisive walkway, a winding road marked with conflict, thievery, bloodshed, tears, and tunnels where there is much we cannot see. I’m old and close to home but my children and their children will bear these days on their backs like stinging cords, on their shoulders like heavy burdens, and on their hearts that they must guard lest their love grow cold before we all arrive at Your door. In this season of light, burn brightly for us. Light the way for our souls to follow. In this season of celebration, be our joy amidst hardship, our laughter under persecution, and our freedom in an age of oppression and fear. In this season of remembrance, remind us that You are truth and You will protect us from deception, You are love and You will fill us when we are empty, You are life and You will revive us when we faint along the way. Remind us that as vulnerable and small as our children seem to us, You will never lose sight of them any more than Your Father lost sight of You and the government shall be upon Your shoulders.

You are God and there is no other. You are the long-awaited Messiah. May Your kingdom come, Lord Jesus, now and forevermore. Amen.

A Modern Magnificat – for Our God who is like No Other https://t.co/493xwGn1IC a celebration of Jesus for #Advent #amwriting #Christmas

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) December 3, 2016

The Terrible, Horrible, Wonderful Discomfort of the Jesus Life

Don’t you just love life’s little comforts?

Hot coffee in the morning, warm bed at night.

Soft clothing, acoustic guitar, warm baths, and gooey pizza. Old friends, family nearby, and a car that always starts. Medicine when I’m sick and phone calls when I’m lonely. Reward for my efforts and answers to my prayers. People who understand me or who tolerate me when I don’t and the freedom to express myself in a way people can hear.

Yes, I love my comforts.

So, why does God so clearly love my discomfort? What motivates Him to press me on to new relationships that feel stiff, like jeans dried on a clothesline? Or new adventures to places that don’t serve my kind of coffee and take me far from family? Or inconveniences like cranky cars, illnesses for which there is no medicine, and situations where I’m misunderstood or silenced?

What is to be gained by my discomfort?

This is the question I asked before the Lord removed my comforts, before He set me in a place so far outside my comfort zone I forgot my old address, as distant from my inner happy place as Rapunzel was from the ground, so uncomfortable with my surroundings that awkward and intolerable feel like resting places.

Now, I see, though it took a very long time of my moaning, whining, complaining, appealing, pouting, praying, seeking, fasting, relenting, forgetting, resigning, and fretting before I surrendered enough to say, “Fine. Fine. Well, Fine! If it’s Your will that I be uncomfortable until I am home with You, then I’ll remain in my discomfort but please, let me see You at work in these days. Show me how to live for you without comfort.”

And then, I was free.

Because comforts on this side of glory are fleeting. When we have them, we should be glad but when they’re gone, we should also rejoice because clinging to them, clutching at them, trying to drag them along on a new adventure simply tethers us to what isn’t lasting, to what will perish, to things that are destined for burning. They are shadows of things to come when we’ll experience comforts designed for eternity.

Jesus told the story of Lazarus and the rich man in Luke 16. Lazarus rested on Abraham as the rich man suffered on the other side of a large chasm. “And he called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame.’  But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish.” Luke 16:24-25

And I think, I want comfort now but more than comfort, I want that no one I love or meet will suffer the fate of the rich man who will be without comfort forevermore. There are soldiers and firefighters and parents and medical staff who go without comforts to serve others, why should I cling to mine when the world is writhing in agony as it wrestles with early labor that will birth the end?

As we enter the season of Advent, the church considers the years of waiting for Messiah to come. For the Body of Christ, this is only a re-enactment of waiting, a remembrance, a season to honor those prophets and peoples who longed for Jesus to come. But us, we’re the generation blessed to be born into the days after the waiting. For us, Jesus has come. But if we only rest in that comfort, we neglect those who still wait to know the truth.

I can see there is no wrong in comforts but there is more right in following Jesus into discomfort for the sake of the Kingdom of God. It’s not too soon to adopt the mindset of a soul with millions of years ahead, an eternity of hot coffee, warm fires, and long chats with old friends ahead. These are the days to embrace adventure and adventure is unsettling, awkward, and strange.

But as I release my grip from my mug, my warm blanket, and my familiar ways, I free my hands to reach for His and find He is the source of all Comfort. He is the oldest friend. He is the dearest family. He is the warmest fire. He is health to the bones, light to the eyes, and a sure pathway to wandering feet. He is a hand on my shoulder, warm arms in the night, and the Father watching for my return all in one.

If He never made us uncomfortable on earth, we would not know His comfort, which goes beyond all other comforts we have known. His [image error]comfort feels like home because, so it is, our home.

And adventures, even terrible, frightening, horrifying ones, can be the long dark corridors that brings us right back home into His waiting arms.

The Terrible, Horrible, Wonderful Discomfort of the Jesus Life https://t.co/Uuc2boBDf1 #Advent #adventures #LOTR #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 29, 2016

Navigating Hard Conversations Over Turkey

Brace yourselves. All across the land, we’ll gather in small groups this week to re-enact the most overlooked aspect of the first Thanksgiving.

Feasting on seafood (which was likely served along with turkey)? No, that’s not it. Thanking our Creator? No, that’s close and will be neglected at many a table but that’s not it.

What we often neglect to recall is that there was an inherent tension present at the first Thanksgiving that needed to be carefully navigated since the Pilgrims were settling on land that belonged to the Native Americans joining their feast. Now, that required grace on everyone’s part. Oh, to have been a fly on the stuffing.

We’ll carry on this tradition in spades this year as we, once again, try to join two vastly different groups in one sit-down meal. The first group are the peace-lovers. These are those of us who anxiously shop, clean, decorate, travel, and cook hoping and praying that the meal will be sumptuous enough to calm the other group into laying down arms for a single day (or even just the length of the meal) to enjoy the feast without a helping of stress-induced indigestion. Then, there are the pot stirrers. This second group are those of us with opinions just begging to be stated, agendas that can’t possibly be parked with car, or long-standing issues that never take a holiday.  Half of us have doubled and tripled our prayer times just to defensively intercede for the rest.

Have mercy. We not only need to say grace, we need to extend it throughout the meal and, for some, the extended family visit. How do we navigate hard conversations certain to arise as we pass the gravy? Well, I think we can consider what must have been at work during the first Thanksgiving as a guide.

First, with suffering comes humility. The Pilgrim’s first year was an exercise in endurance to say the least. After setting out with high hopes and a lofty vision to bring Christ to the New World while enjoying true freedom, they weren’t able to land where they’d planned, over half their number died in the first months, and they lived under harsh conditions that tested them in ways they’d never imagined. They had to rely on God in ways they’d never had to learn in the Old World. To add to their humility, God supplied some of what they needed through the Native Americans already living in the land, the very people they’d hoped to teach about their God. Now, they were the ones learning because God often prefers to work through our weaknesses instead of our strengths.

So, let’s be willing to pursue humility as we gather. Let’s take some long looks in the mirror before we look at the other faces around the table, and let’s remember how often we fail, get things wrong, require forgiveness, or cry out to God to save us. Bringing this to the table will be more appreciated than a green bean casserole with those crunchy onions on top, I guarantee.

Second, in a new world we must rely on God more than on our own understanding. The Pilgrims had to completely rely on God to meet every need, to communicate with their neighbors, to understand the new landscape in which they lived, and to keep them alive. So do we. The writer of Proverbs tells us all “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6 ESV

So, let’s double up on the listening this Thanksgiving, take second helpings. Keep an ear open to the Holy Spirit – be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry. Just imagine you know as little of others’ language as the Pilgrims did of their dining partners. Pay attention. Ask questions. Give silence a chance to work. Smile. Hug. Play some football. Don’t just pretend to listen by nodding while you mentally prepare your answer. Trust the Holy Spirit to supply an answer and give your entire self over to listening. Listen to older people. Listen to teens. Listen to angry siblings. Listen to children.

Third, spend your words as if they cost money and lay out most of your budget on blessings. Be a listener first, a blesser second, and let the Holy Spirit give you words for the rest. We can be confident there were words of blessing spoken at that first Thanksgiving – words of welcome, words of appreciation for those gathered, words of thanks to God. Let there be words of blessing spoken in our kitchens, at our tables, in front of the big game, and in the car ride home. Continue the tradition and let blessing reign.

Oh, we’ll be tested but that’s all right. We’re ready for it. We’re up for it. We’re the people of God. Allow me to give you some handy phrases for those who want to push the boundaries of grace –

“Tell me more about why that concerns you. I care about you and I want to understand.”

“I don’t have an answer for that today but let’s make plans to talk more about it over coffee this week.”

“I hear how passionately you feel about this and you have some well thought out arguments. You deserve more than I can just say off the cuff today. I appreciate how important this is to you.”

“Even though we disagree, I value you deeply. Thank you for staying in relationship with me. I understand many people have lost relationships over these issues and I’m glad we haven’t.”

“I want to be sure I’ve heard you so let me summarize what I think you’re saying. You probably know I disagree. Are you interested in my thoughts and how I’ve reached them?”

Okay, I know. We’re not going to iron out all the kinks with a few phrases but it can help to have a plan. There will be tense meals as long as we gather to celebrate this side of glory so embrace the tension as part of the tradition.

And remember this, we endure conflict every day of the year, at least on this one there will also be turkey and pie.

I’m grateful for each of you, your encouragement, your constructive feedback, your love and support, just knowing you’re out there. I’m praying for all of you this Thanksgiving where ever you gather and I hope you’ll pray for me. Be open to trusting God to be present and at work in the midst of all our messes. Many blessings on you all. Mercy and grace, Lori

Navigating Hard Conversations Over Turkey https://t.co/qScQs6lhzk how we’re going to get through this holiday #thanksgiving #holidaystress

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 23, 2016

Fast-Talkers Need Not Apply – Hard Conversations in a Sound-Bite Driven World

I learn everything the hard way – are you like that?

I grew up in a world of sit-coms, bumper stickers, and snappy comebacks. In my teens and twenties, stand-up comedians, Late Night talk show hosts, and Saturday Night Live drove the social conversation. To be skilled at the one-liner was to be one of the cool kids, savvy, and in-the-know. I worked hard to be one of those comeback kids. Now, it’s a skin I have to shed when I’m approaching a hard conversation because there’s no fast way to transformative dialog.

Years ago, when I led a Bible study for a group of black belt women who hadn’t studied the Bible before, I was kind of stupid. We’d be in the middle of a karate class and one of the ladies would holler a Bible question across the dojo floor to me as we worked through our routines.

“Lori, I’m talking with John and he thinks God says we can’t have sex unless we’re married. Is that a serious rule? Where does it say that in the Bible?”

Or

“Hey, Lori, what’s the deal with hell? Are people who worship their ancestors going to hell?”

The part of me that’s not too bright would try to formulate an answer that could be shouted across a crowded room while executing an upper cut-right hook combination. It’s a wonder I didn’t take more stray blows to the head from offended partners.

It’s taken me far too long to learn that while the world loves a quick answer, it has the satisfaction equivalent of a Dorito chip. One quick answer leaves you empty and searching immediately for the next. You can munch your way through an entire bag of Dorito Bible answers and still come away hungering for righteousness because answers aren’t really what we need. They don’t satisfy in the way that a relationship with Jesus truly does.

These days, if someone asks me a for a quick answer to a big question, I politely decline. Usually, the first thing I offer is another question or two: Why do you want to know what the Bible has to say about that? Do you see the Bible as a valid authority? If I explain the answer to you, will it affect how you live or think?

I didn’t invent this technique. This is how Jesus responded to the Pharisees and other powers of the day who weren’t truly seeking answers but only an opportunity to argue or to trip Him up. The powers that inspire those types of questions are still at work today.

If the question asker tells me they were just curious, I decline to get into a discussion but I do offer to buy them a coffee or lunch if they ever decide they’re truly interested in a biblical answer. This not only leaves them off-kilter (why isn’t this Christian trying to tell me Bible stuff when I gave her a perfectly good opportunity to shoot a verse my way?), it sometimes causes onlookers to wait for the questioner to walk away and then say, “So, what’s the answer, anyway? It may affect my life. I really want to know.”

If the original asker responds that they really want to know and that it might affect the way they live, I suggest, then, that we schedule time to have a real conversation so I can get to know them better and understand why they’re asking what they’re asking.

I then set to praying for that person. I learned that from karate.

When trying to break free from the hold of a violent person, there are small but essential actions called “softening up techniques” that precede a big breakaway move. When souls are in the grip of the evil one, a conversation with a Christian can serve to facilitate them breaking away from that deceptive hold but prayer and the work of the Holy Spirit are essential actions that precede that conversation and make it effective.

To facilitate transformative conversations, we must be people who resist the temptation to offer fast answers to shallow questions.

If I want people to be impressed with me, I develop my wit and my rapid retorts. I spit out Biblical arguments and defenses like a slot machine long overdue for a payoff. If I want people to see Jesus, I get myself out of the way.

True spiritual seekers may initially come across like they’re asking casual questions or as if they don’t  truly care about the answers. If we snap something back, we’ll miss the opportunity to slow things down and notice the genuine hunger behind their words that will only be satisfied by pulling up a chair at Jesus’ banquet table.

Jesus warns us about quick words. “For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil. I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.” Matthew 12: 34b-37

 The answers I hollered back across the dojo floor were about me. My heart was full of insecurity, the need to impress, the desire to be seen as well-schooled and ready for every question. The overflow of my heart resulted in a great deal of foolishness. But, Jesus has worked on my heart and taught me to pay less attention to me and more to the listener. Be less pressured by a rapid-fire culture and more in tune with the slow-soul-cooker of the Holy Spirit.

Be counter-cultural. Refuse to drive in the fast lane while having a hard conversation. Insist on pulling over at the scenic overlook, pulling out the picnic basket, and lingering over a thermos of coffee when discussing issues of the heart and soul.

Fast answers, like fast food, are consumed and forgotten. The rich feast God’s prepared for us is meant to be savored. Let’s provide people with savory, linger-worthy conversations.

**I’ll be following up with more posts on this topic with some practical, biblical principles for having more effective but hard conversations. If your women’s group, small group, or ministry team is looking for support around this topic, contact me about scheduling my effective, hands-on workshop on The Art of Hard Conversations. I have just the mix of education, experience, training, and history of messing up that makes me the right person to guide your group into a more productive ministry of exhortation and encouragement. Just drop me an email at lorisroel@gmail.com and we’ll talk.

Fast-Talkers Need Not Apply – Hard Conversations in a Sound-Bite Driven World https://t.co/rTHtFMYveb #amwriting #hardconversations #truth

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 17, 2016

The Gentle Art of Hard Conversations – and Coffee

As a nation, we need to start having some seriously hard conversations. This was true before last Tuesday but now, it’s not only true, it’s obvious.

What is less obvious is that this is an opportunity for the church to lead. Who better to guide people through hard conversations than an entire family of believers who have had to learn to talk about challenging topics like hell, sin, guilt, and brokenness and still show up together for bread and wine?

Oh, we’re going to mess it up. That’s a given. I hear you talking back to me even from my side of the computer. Something inside you just clenched up and you began arguing with me. What are you doing, Lori? Don’t give our brothers and sisters in the church encouragement to have hard conversations! That’s a recipe for trouble! That’s a sure-fire way to create problems, turn people off to the gospel, and create hurt feelings! What are you thinking?

I get it. I’ve been on the receiving end of some pretty misguided Christian change chats. They usually start with an invitation for coffee. You’ve had one of those invitations, haven’t you? “Are you available for coffee this week? I just want to chat.” You no sooner have your spoon in the sugar bowl when you suspect there may be razor blades in the lemon squares. The other sister in Christ wants to chat, all right, but the topic is all about how you need to change and she has a detailed list of how that should look.

Yes, I know, we mess up, often in monumental ways, but according to our God, that’s no reason to stop trying to get it right. “Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13-14 ESV

And, we are not without help! The Holy Spirit of Jesus Christ empowers the church as the church dwells in Christ. We have the very Spirit of God to teach us how to shut out the noise of the world and get real with one another. When we sit together to have hard conversations, He is present and if we pay attention, He wants to instruct us, to impart grace, to bolster truth, and to supply love.

There are also people in the church who have been messing up these hard conversations for so long now (I’m one of them) that we have a lifetime of experience making conversational mistakes and now, by process of elimination, we actually know something. We’ve spent hours listening so on this topic, we’re just bursting to share. There’s probably one of us in your vicinity but in case there isn’t someone local to you skilled in the gentle art of hard conversations, God gave me this blog.

I’m getting up in years so I can’t give you a lifetime of messy wisdom in one post but here are three things we need to do to prepare for the task at hand (more posts will follow):

First, we need to surrender all. Yup, just like the old hymn. You’ve probably had experience surrendering some so start there and keep going until you have nothing left to surrender. Tell Jesus you’re willing to yield your ego, time, talents, schedule, agenda, false notions about others, fear of making mistakes, insecurity, and all the ideas about what you thought ministry would look like to be used by Him in the lives of others to have hard conversations that lead to truth, redemption, healing, and the furthering of God’s kingdom.

Second, we need to aggressively pursue humility and fearless love. There’s no room for a sense of superiority, a condescending tone, or an unloving attitude if your goal is to have hard conversations that lead to breakthroughs in relationships between God and people or people and people. Yeah, this is going to feel a little like scaling Mt. Everest (this I know from backbreaking experience) but we must appear before God so regularly and so openly that we have a true perspective on ourselves that fosters humility. And, we need to ask Him to fill that yawning chasm left by our extracted ego with His boundless, sinewy, all-sacrificing love. This love will facilitate a loss of self-consciousness that will allow us to maintain that humility long enough to engage in some life-changing dialog. Start by ruthlessly confessing unforgiveness, hardness of heart, judgment, prejudice, and arrogance at every hint of them in your mind. I’m still working on this step so if you’re already done, go on ahead; I’ll catch up.

Third, we need to make ourselves available to and vulnerable before God on a regular basis as preparation for making ourselves available to and vulnerable before others in the midst of hard conversations. Through studying His Word, prayer, meditation on Scripture, regular times of worship, service to others, giving, practicing silence, and sitting under sound instruction, we show up to have hard conversations with Jesus that prepare us to be used by God in the lives of others. We will be able to have effective hard conversations because God’s had them first with us – and we listened, even when it hurt.

Oh, and it will hurt. You know that, don’t you? When God wants to change us in order to use us, He does so from a space of love and grace but He doesn’t concern Himself with our comfort or with cushioning us from the truth. And the memory of the soul pain will linger so that we are more sensitive to those sitting across from us nervously spooning sugar into their coffee.

God designed us to live, to love, and to engage others in powerful, messy, life-altering conversations that lead to relationships that contribute to transformations that wake us all up to the realization that the best thing that ever happened to us was finding ourselves orphaned in a basket on the doorstep of a loving, truth-telling God who took us in and made us a family. Together, we can learn how to face the truth, to tell it, and to hear it.

Who’s in? Trust me, you don’t won’t to miss out on this once in a lifetime opportunity!

**I’ll be following up with more posts on this topic with some practical, biblical principles for having more effective but hard conversations. If your women’s group, small group, or ministry team is looking for support around this topic, contact me about scheduling my effective, hands-on workshop on The Gentle Art of Hard Conversations. I have just the mix of education, experience, training, and history of messing up that makes me the right person to guide your group into a more productive ministry of exhortation and encouragement. Just drop me an email at lorisroel@gmail.com and we’ll talk.

The Gentle Art of Hard Conversations https://t.co/pOn4w40BTd a ministry for our times – are you ready to have hard conversations? #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 15, 2016

Reaching Back to Move Forward – an Ode to Hymns by a Contemporary Worshipper

In the church, I am a bridge baby. Maybe you are, too.

I grew up singing hymns. I still weep at How Great Thou Art and It is Well with My Soul. I remember the thrill on Easter Sunday mornings at the low notes of Up from the Grave He Arose and how I reveled in the wonderful echoes of There is Power in the Blood. Even as a child I knew the number of my favorite hymns like Blessed Assurance (333) and Come, Thou Fount (well, I used to know it). It was a rite of passage to learn the harmonies of the hymns and join in the great “pew choir” on Sunday mornings.

But by the time I was a teen, the first praise music was being introduced (along with blue jeans on Sunday mornings and guitars on the altar (acoustic only – not an amp in sight at that time). This development excited me, too, since hymns were challenging to play on the guitar and this was the age of folk rock (plus, by then, we were pretty weary of endless choruses of “Do Lord” and “Kum Ba Yah,” especially when our friends were rocking out to The Eagles!).

By the time I got to college, there were even some Christian rock musicians like Larry Norman and Randy Stonehill. Those of us who could sing were able to choose modern sounding selections from Amy Grant and Noel Paul Stookey. We were excited to have songs in our own music with lyrics free from the restraints of Elizabethan poetry. I love a wide variety of praise music, I’m in awe of some of today’s amazing contemporary Christian musical artists and songwriters, and I appreciate being able to sing to the Lord with the level of intimacy these new songs allow.

But I never imagined a day without hymns.

Praise songs, like hymns, have their drawbacks. Praise songs, being personal and intimate, lend themselves to specific preferences and regional tastes often resulting in believers visiting churches from other areas and not knowing any of the songs played in the morning service. I’ve been in my home church on a Sunday morning and been unfamiliar with any of the selections that day. Let me tell you, feeling isolated and left out while others sing does not facilitate worship.

Since the point of praise songs seems to be to reflect the heart of the modern believer, they become dated as quickly as last season’s social networking site. Praise songs I loved five years ago are already obsolete. And while the simple melodies make for easier unison singing, I miss the complex harmonies provided by written sheet music. Singing those hymns often led to the surprising discovery that many men who rarely speak could unleash beautiful, rich, musical tones.

Hymns, as stiff and archaic as many of them may have been, provided our culture with a common musical language. There may have been melodic variations on some tunes or wording changes on a verse or two from church to church but for the most part, hymns were a language spoken from church to church. Even when I spent a summer in Japan, I could sing the hymns in phonetic Japanese and feel included in a service executed entirely in a language in which I wasn’t fluent. (I could even offer special music in that language with feeling.) The movie, Joyeux Noelle, depicts a Christmas Eve in WWI when three different armies (French, German and Scottish) met on the frontlines, declared a momentary truce and shared a worship service singing hymns.

Hymns may seem impersonal but they proclaim the truth of God and explore His numerous, magnificent characteristics with sweep and grandeur. While praise songs allow me to cry out, proclaim my love, and speak of the deep yearnings of my heart for God, hymns proclaim who He is and His heart for me. They explore His love for us all, His unchanging nature, and His scope. They connect us with all those who have gone before so that we see ourselves in context and find our footing in the midst of our own stories set against a greater one.

Sometimes when I speak of hymns, I’m told that time moves forward and so must the church. But, that’s not entirely biblical, is it? The biblical view is that time is more of a spiral, constantly winding back on itself even as it progresses. God dwells outside of time and our worship can transcend it. He calls to us as the one who was and is and is to come. We were thrown out of the garden but we hold onto the latent memory of what we once were in that place because that is the end to which we are moving in Christ. A spiral moving forward but touching back on themes that draw us to Christ who is the Alpha and the Omega and is with us in the now.

Jeremiah issued this warning on the Lord’s behalf “This is what the LORD says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.” Jeremiah 6:16 The “good way” does not drop what is worthy and true along the path just because it is a new day. Why do we let the world dictate our path, even to Christ in our most intimate of times – worship and praise?

This post is about hymns but really it’s about a way of life. It’s about knowing that when we walk with Christ, we take a different path and it’s one that is a little outside of time. While others are on this moving conveyor belt that propels them helplessly forward, the path of the believer meanders, allowing opportunity for reflection, consideration, and thought as to what moves forward with us. As for me, I will bring some hymns to the future with me because I will need their truths tomorrow just as I needed them yesterday and today.

“Old-fashioned” is one thing – “fashioned in the days of old” is another and the wise traveler through time knows the difference.

What are your favorite hymns and why? What contemporary songs move you and inspire you to worship? Let’s discover some new songs from one another and rediscover some of old. What creative ways has your church found to incorporate all styles of music for worship? Do you attend a church that sings the Psalms? I’m eager to hear from you.

Reaching Back to Move Forward – an Ode to Hymns by a Contemporary Worshipper https://t.co/nWv7Pq3p9a #Hymns #worship #praise

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 12, 2016

What God Caught Me Doing Today

Brace yourself. This post has become a confessional. I’m not proud of this post but it’s important for me to come clean – part of the process of staying honest.

I’ve spent a lot of time in the past week doing one of two things: a) thinking about myself and b) rolling my eyes at other people (not always in a way that others could see but, believe me, in my mind, my eyes were rolling).

My first thoughts about the election (and second and third) were about how it will affect me and mine. Once I worked through the solid truth that I belong to Jesus and no matter who is in the White House, He directs my destiny, I exhaled. That’s when the eye-rolling thing happened.

Others around me were having these – reactions. Tears. Anxiety. Public outbursts. And there was hugging, a sudden exaggerated need for bear hugs from coworkers and peers. Outwardly, I made sympathetic faces and kept my thoughts to myself but inwardly, I scorned their distress. What would it be like to live with such a flimsy foundation that the direction of a presidential election sent my world spinning?

It didn’t take long for this scorn, the sense of gratitude that my world was safely in God’s hands, and the continued panic of others to swirl within me like a red shirt thrown in with a load of whites and I was smack in the middle of the bleeding pink rinse of smug self-righteousness before I realized what was happening. Ba-bam! I was exactly what I despise in the Pharisees.

It was a very short ride.

Now, while it is true that Jesus holds my world in His hands and that I don’t have to yield to panic or worry over the shifting winds of politics, this same Jesus doesn’t want me to rest myself into a dispassionate coma.

I believe Jesus rolled His eyes at me today. I wanted Him to notice how holy I was being resting in Him while all these other people panicked and He Gibbs-slapped me and said, “Hey, I love these panicked people. Would you like to take a moment to show them my love?”

Oh. Right. This is probably about more than me. This season of change in our country, this unrest, this panic, this uncertainty, this may be a time for me, for us, to minister to and serve those around us. The reason He’s given us this foundation of security is not to cocoon ourselves away until He returns but so we have a strong base from which to risk loving those who may not love us back.

I love the way the Message offers this exhortation from Paul: “I can’t impress this on you too strongly. God is looking over your shoulder. Christ himself is the Judge, with the final say on everyone, living and dead. He is about to break into the open with his rule, so proclaim the Message with intensity; keep on your watch. Challenge, warn, and urge your people. Don’t ever quit. Just keep it simple.” 2 Timothy 4:1-2 ESV

It was after the Gibbs-slap that I began to listen to others, really listen. I stopped rolling my eyes – inside and out. I didn’t say much because it wasn’t really a time for speaking. I was afraid anything I said by way of reassurance would ring hollow and shallow because, well, I was only five minutes into learning to love them so it would likely be coming from the shallow puddle of Living Water just beginning to flow within me. I listened more and prayed as I listened until the puddle became a small pool. Tomorrow, I hope to listen more and ask God for boldness to speak truth into the panic and love into the fear.

Tonight, though, I’m leaning into Jesus because I’m only five minutes past being a Pharisee and my head is still spinning from how quickly I donned those robes. Any love I have to offer is pretty flimsy so I need to pay attention to Jesus, receive His forgiveness and soak in His grace so tomorrow, I am more like Him.

Jesus had a very clear message for me today. “Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.” 1 Corinthians 10:12 ESV And He pushed me, He pushed me hard to answer questions like “Is your salvation only about you?” “Is your security something for you to hoard?” “Will they know you’re a Christian because you’re right – or because you love?” “Do you know how to love under fire?” “Are you willing to love when the love you offer may be rejected or labeled as judgment or declared unsafe?” “Is the truth of your salvation so real to you that you’re aware of the danger others are in and will lay down your own life to help them see it?”

My eyes aren’t rolling anymore. I don’t feel smug now. I feel like a bird freed from the fowler’s snare ready to sing to warn others off of the danger.

I know I am forgiven. I know He’ll never forsake me or give up on me. I know I’m a work in progress. I also know, I was designed for these times and not to be someone who mocks those who cannot rest in Christ but to be one who seizes the opportunity of these times to love and to speak truth.

He lives in me. He’s not rolling His eyes. He’s calling them to Himself and His arms are wide open.

What God Caught Me Doing Today https://t.co/YejnexCNdi a confessional for these times #DonaldTrumpWins #lovingothers #Jesusnow

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 11, 2016

Let Us Make a Plan Today – Before the Results Come In

Let us make a plan today – now – before the results come in –

To seek God’s face

To confess our sin and repent of all wrongdoing

To recommit our lives to Jesus Christ, to obedience, to sacrifice, to truth, and to love

To turn from fear and embrace faith in the Only One with true power over our lives

To read, study, memorize, and meditate on God’s Word and to put into practice what we find there

To love the Lord our God with all our hearts, souls, minds, and strengths and to love our neighbors as ourselves

To do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God

To become students of mercy, channels of grace, fearless speakers of truth, and living testaments to the gospel of Jesus Christ –

And this gospel is that there is a God and He created the universe and all that is in it. That we rebelled against Him and that every person since Adam and Eve has chosen sin over obedience, has fallen short, cannot save him or herself, and deserves eternal separation from God. But God’s love was so great, He sent His Only Son Jesus into the world to die and in this way, to pay the price for our sins. After He died, Jesus was buried but rose to life again on the third day. He lives now and will return to claim His Bride, the church. Though we, the church, are faulted, limited, and human, He will complete His work in us. Jesus Christ is the way, the only way, to eternal life, to salvation, to redemption, to freedom forever. One day, multitudes from every nation, from all tribes, peoples, and languages will worship Him before His throne.

And if we believe this for ourselves, if we proclaim and teach it to others, if we surrender ourselves to the Way, the Truth, and the Life, if we choose to act like the salt and the light that we are, if we abandon fear for love, step into our freedom and live each day as if we already own eternity, then no matter how awful this election season was, no matter who sits in that Oval Office in January, we will still be the church, we will still be the family of God, we will still be a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that we may proclaim the excellencies of him who called us out of darkness into his marvelous light.

You may call me a dreamer – but I’m not the only one. We are the redeemed of Jesus Christ and whether we worship in the streets or whisper His name underground, we will rise and we will love on until He comes.

Let us make a plan today – before the results come in https://t.co/DwmDF4LE0l #PresidentialElection #evangelical #Jesusreigns

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 7, 2016

Why We Should Play at Our Faith

This season takes me back to my children’s childhood. I loved choosing their gifts. I reveled in finding just the right book, toy, craft, or piece of equipment that would spark their imaginations, encourage an interest, or strengthen a quality I saw emerging in their unique personalities.

There’s always been a creative wildness in my girl so I remember the joy we all experienced the Christmas she received a drum-set just the perfect size for her at age five. The noise of that Christmas was truly a joyful one to me as I saw her immerse herself in a sound of her own crazy making. Similarly, I remember intricate block towns she devised and “mixtures” she’d concoct with toy cooking or chemistry kits. One year we surprised her by turning a bathroom into an art studio where her paints and markers could remain available all the time. When I think back, she always had a stray color or two on her hands, arms, legs, and face well into her adolescence.

My boy loved a toy with a story, something three-dimensional with the capability of engaging him as a character. His favorite gifts were costumes and weaponry, castles and knights, Lego kits with adventurous settings, books, movies, and stories on tape, wooden masks that bore their own types of stories, action figures and G-I Joes, and of course, as he grew older, video games. Hearing the simple notes from Zelda can bring on a wave of nostalgia that knocks me on me seat sometimes.

Parents choose toys for children with care and with vision. I’ve always been grateful that my children had time to play with their toys and that they didn’t ignore my gifts but instead, reveled in them. I saw great value in the hours they spent playing and I see the fruit of that investment now in these two creative, deep, fascinating adults.

God has also provided gifts for His children, numerous gifts, but too often, we refuse to play.

Sometimes that would happen with my two. If our family was enduring a hardship or in times when there was something frightening happening in the world, they might hesitate to run off, wondering if they shouldn’t be “doing something” about the grown-up issues. Always, always, I assured them that I was there to worry about the greater things in life. There is a time to be serious, to study, to listen to lessons, and to carry out chores but much of childhood is about exploring and playing. Their first job was to be children. I wanted them to enjoy the gifts I gave them. Their job was to play and when they did, it brought me joy.

This is God’s message to us as well. Six days of the week we have work and there is much of it to do. Work is an honor and brings some satisfaction, but we are children and God knows we grow weary. He is not like us. He neither slumbers nor sleeps, so He is capable of seeing to everything that needs seeing to even when we are at rest. One day a week is set aside for Him, for worship, rest, and play. I believe strongly that one of the greatest ways we can communicate the gospel to the world is to trust God enough to take time to play and rest.

The “toys” God has provided are endlessly creative and fun. Water, soil, nature, fire, flowers, and sky – aren’t these wondrous things to explore and don’t they bring such a peace when we immerse ourselves in the outdoors or sit around a fire and just watch it dance? Other gifts from our Father are colors, sounds, words, and movements. Painting or sewing, quilting or dancing, creating videos or photos, telling stories, making music, or exercising are just some of the ways we can play with these gifts. Humans and animals are also gifts from the Father. Isn’t it restorative to rock a baby, to make a toddler laugh, to share a movie with a teen, to hold or touch a loved one, or to listen to an older person share a memory? To pet the dog, to watch squirrels scamper, to observe a rare bird, or stand close to an elephant is to indulge in some of God’s most inventive gifts to His children. And food, glorious food, isn’t this a wonderful gift with which we can play and create and share!

The church is neglecting her full calling to bear witness to every aspect of our God if we aren’t at play in the world just as we are at work. Our God invented joy and created all these good gifts for His children. He invites us to engage in all forms of creative play and as we encounter others we can say, “Yes, isn’t He glorious, my Father provided all of this just for us! See here how water sparkles. Notice there how the constellations shine. Taste this and imagine that God wanted us to enjoy a variety of flavors. Be quiet now and hear the concert the peep toads and crickets have to play just for us to share with Him who resides amidst the music of the spheres.”

Christians shouldn’t be sticks in the mud, we should be making mud pies, building lemonade stands, sledding down hills, and climbing mountains just for the sheer pleasure of playing with our “toys.”

In this stressed and gloomy world that drives us constantly to strive, to achieve, to do more; how refreshing will it be when unbelievers hear the laughter coming from our corners of the globe and hear us call them, “Come and play, for our God has given us all things in Christ. We’ll share them with you and invite you to see the joy of our Father.”

People of faith, loved ones, I strongly urge you to play. Take a walk or a nap, share a story or a dance, run a race or climb a tree in Jesus’ name. He revels in His children.

Why We Should Play at Our Faith https://t.co/w5ocTs1Utp #callofChrist #joy #sabbathrest #amwriting Live out your full calling and be at play

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 5, 2016