Blind Eyes See...

Today as I skipped through my routine of camp laundry, listening to camp stories, talent shows, pool games, chilling with my crew as they describe their weeks of refreshment and renewal and how God has spoken to them, I am grateful.  This week "we" were in Brevard, NC @ Young-life Camp Capernium for special needs, Panama City, FL @ SonBurn, youth camp, Morristown, TN @ Manley's Music Camp~ Camp Agape.  And I was @ home, Knoxville, TN.

A time of renewal because we needed it; well need it.  We thought in our minds that renewal would come through a beach vacation...which I crave or some other unique family adventure.  Little did I know, we would begin our journey @ Family Camp in Newport, TN @ Carson Springs.  Transported in golf carts by sacrificial servants giving of their summer. Some knew me from when I just a little girl and some were my age ~ all present to serve by driving me and others to and fro around the mountain-side.  Coming home was both fulfilling and depleting.  It was back to the "real world" where more days than most, "we" feel left out, excluded and or just an observer on the sidelines.  Yet as my sweet kiddos talked and laughed about camp, we were filled with excitement for next year.  Sophia just said, "I can't believe camp was SO long ago.  I can't wait till next summer."

Anxiously waiting for some alone time while all 4 kiddos went their ways, I would take a nap, rest, have coffee and conversations uninterrupted.  Ahh.  You all who have children, can grasp my vision. Well, that week is over and we back in community.  Hearing these precious stories, seeing their faces light up as they talk of their experiences, I am refreshed.  How can that be?  I've been in church my whole life, attended seminary with Scott, worked in summer missions and youth camps...but why now?

It seems to be the life of the church has no walls.  We preach the "body of Christ" and that all serve a purpose or greater good but in reality we do not function in a world that embraces this mission.  I am not angry; it's just the persona that we've come to identify as being a follower of Jesus.  We've institutionalized Jesus and labeled him with our own preferences.  We wrap our laws and orderly conduct calling them a "better living or  better stewardship."  Now don't be offended because I, too, have accepted this identity and find myself fighting against being a church-goer and living out the gospel.

I am wrestling the fact that "we" care more about what rules we have and how they are inforced than we do serving.  I am brought to tears as I see the faces from Katie's Camp Capernium.  Unlike any youth camp I atttended or camp I served, which have been some of the biggest and best, I cannot compare what I saw on the faces of those @ Camp Capernium.

I have a new understanding from my friend's borrowed quote "the special needs community is the marrow of the body of Christ."  I heard this statement and read it.  I tried chewing on the idea that this is/was true but not until this DAY did I see this quote come alive.  It became words that breathed air and began living.

Using Gracie's camp motto...we are the living, not the dead held new meaning.  Yes we are the body...we cannot live without one another but our "least of the these" are the marrow.  My great ideas and thoughtful planning cannot exist without the marrow.  Therefore, until we experience this, we are empty bodies just "doing" church.  We are part of God's work but not fully.

The part of "beyond our imaginations" only comes through seeing the messiest ones, the ones that make us uncomfortable share the unconditional JOY that lives through good news.  The good news of hope.  The good news of grace.  It's from the light in their eyes at being lifted up a mountain, calling it a hike or carried into the water to experience the refreshment of swimming...we who function out of normalcy pride ourselves in giving when a need arises or joining an event to support those less-fortunate.

That's simply not good enough.  If we are the body, the marrow needs us daily, not on holidays.  I like many of my friends live an unexpected journey of "the least of these" ~  we fight disappointment and heartache, forcing ourselves to "throw a party" when little things happen.  None of us would choose this life, yet my blind eyes haven't seen is that we live life alongside those who carry LIFE to the body.

As God's people, we must care for the marrow or our bodies in Jesus will give-way and grow weak.  We must carry those to through the rooftops and not simply pacify with a nod or look.  We are the ones who represent the bones and muscle which must encase God's marrow, protecting it as precious.  We must also let the marrow shine, as it sees Jesus with different eyes.  It maybe a vision of His glory we would miss otherwise.

Where camp meets reality-

Once upon a time, there was a deep desire to feel included, accepted, appreciated, seen and heard.  The feeling grew yet the dissonance between what was acceptable or the "norm" continued to widen that the desire was dissipating being replaced by despair.  Air became  thinner making conversations harder to achieve...the desire manifested itself into a question, "was this  the life would forever be?  Even with like minded people of faith emptiness became a new way of living."

How many of us experience this daily or wrestle this desire as we lay our heads to rest?  Yet no rest comes.  The shadows grow long and become interwoven not recognizable to what was real.  How to approach the throne of grace?  That seems too far off, sometimes not remembering that He can take the burden...the burden of sameness, acceptance, appreciated and approved.  That He can give meaning to what was lost and create purpose and desire.  It is through Him that the shadows are powerless when our eyes are closing.  He is hiding us in the cleft of the rock, unseen by the enemy that lures seeking to devour.

As we return from Camp Celebrate, a piece or taste of heaven, we are faced with a bit of disappointment.  We return to the land of American dreamers...rejoining the the race of rats for stuff and success.  We realize a battle is brewing; how could returning home be a place filled with anxiety or loneliness?

Really it's not home.  For I am not alone whether my feet go to the left or the right, god abides with me.  He's not watching me run this race cheering me to maker certain turns.  No he's present.  Often silent.  Unconditional.  Constant.  Yet I face the feelings of difference as I re-enter my world.  My world with all my stuff, my own bed, my own pillow, my own people.  Yet my heart can easily slip into despair...or loneliness.  It can restart the debate I have in my mind of "what if...."  Then I fall into the trap seemingly prepared for me, the right size and everything.  

This is an unfair world.  Fact.  It's is unjust.  The broken have little to hold them together.  The hopeless have no where to rest.  Our lives are the way they are...or "it is what it is."  I have grow to despise that phrase.  It seems to attach itself my foot, like the mat for the man at the pool of Bethesda.    I have no one who can carry me.  I rely on unrealistic expectations that leave me disappointed and mad.  There's little room for anything else.  Then I re-long for camp next year.

Sounds crazy, doesn't it?  But it is something. We've shared with a few as we prepare for the journey back home.  God is just.  God is fair.  God sees all my emptiness.  He hears my groaning, no words needed.  He mends the brine .  The cracks still show yet they can let light at different angles flow in the darkness.   God gives sight to the blind, it's "more" blind if the heart can't see.  He sometimes carries us to the water, or requires us to stand and walk.  But the question is always the same, "do you want to be made well?"  

The question from Jesus is open ended.  His "wellness" is is dependent on his ways; they are far reaching to places we cannot understand or even dissect. Camp celebrate isn't a getaway from the norm or an unrealistic high.  It's a glimpse of heaven.  The essential organs to the "body" all coming together for renewal and rest.  

Normalcy

Today I sit with a heavy heart wondering why so many have giant burdens and why the things we take for granite provide stones that fill in gaps or leave holes in our foundations?  Isn't the Lord enough?  Why then do we see so many suffer?  We don't put our faith in luck or crystal balls or karma, yet there is such an imbalance of injustice and unfairness.

Simple things like getting in the van for a ride to the mountains, simple? Not.  Fear rises from the youngest members that our child with special needs might get upset and lash out or pull hair.  Even though she thrives at visiting with strangers at Barnes & Noble, even little ones.  Why?  Struggles to make plans and because the crowds are large and the terrain not conducive to pushing her wheelchair are larger than our "will" to try.  All the efforts to be normal....take hikes thinking Scott might have a heart attack carrying her up a mountain.  It sure gives more visual meaning to the friends who take time to carry their friend through the rooftop just to see Jesus.

It's exhausting to be our friends at times.  We know.  Yet as my friend says "why can't we just be normal?"  Why are health bills what create bankruptcy and loss of hope?  Why is it that the American dream costs $130,000/year and what tiny percentage have that yearly?  The dream I guess is for a few.  Most of us walk hoping to not fall.  Even the wealthy without Jesus can't see beyond the endless ambition for more or the despairing of hopelessness midst money...a friend who suffers not financially said "money doesn't create happiness, but it eases a burden that those who spend their time and energy worried about keeping electricity on and food at the table have to bear."

We are the same.  Created for the pleasure of Christ.  Yet we continually find ourselves disappointed that packing up for a camp for special needs may come to a halt because sickness prevails or lack of money or increased physical pain seems to be the mountains that interfere.  And we scream "normalcy!"  We exhaust our ability to dream; feeling overwhelmed that something as simple as jumping in the car, isn't simple at all.  Not to state the obvious, camp for special needs isn't normal at all.  This is our vacation.  

We are inundated with images of living the high life...sailing through the ocean.  Even though others do suffer, often the voices we hear are "well you can't leave her at home.  there is always next year for your trip...as 'they' leave for their vacation".   

It's not that we would hold back vacations or prosperity from others; it's that most of us want to be heard.  We know for goodness sake that our community can't hold the keys to salvation, that's the lords.  We don't expect YOU to fix it; but allow us to be angry or be present with us.  Don't judge us for our unbelief.  Believe more beside us when our belief is just dwindling.

We prepare to go to family camp this week.  A spot for 5 days where we the same.  Our Normal is breaking bread with cafeteria food, singing and crying together, feeding tubes, diapering, trying to find respite, attempting to make life similar.  There's comfort in that community, not enabling.  The solutions aren't what we seek, those are mostly miraculous.  We seek comfort, ease, help, quiet, some similarity and no worries of criticism of those around us.  No worries if we stand, sit, clap at worship.  No worries if we have to pace- it's not disrespectful.  It's where we are permitted to hear.  To worship.  To question without fear or looking like "bad" parents or whatever the social norms scream.

My family is ready and excited for the week.  My heart is heavy for friends around who are weighted with dispair.  That god will provide and give them forum to be  normal.  If you can't relate, you can be present.  You can influence the institution to show kindness, love trumping law, service because Jesus models being a servant...washing the dirtiest of feet, reclining with the lowliest, turning to the most insignificant woman who touched his garment.  She offered him nothing,  didn't tithe.  Just desired to touch him.  And what did she receive? Healing, because that's what He is.  For the least of these.

The Body

The body of Christ is a simple yet a cloudy concept when lived aloud.  Various perceptions on how the body translates from the Bible to "real life."  You wouldn't assume that with all the hang ups we encounter, being Gods body would cause such infliction. Yet it causes passionate preferences to stir and often show themselves as we evaluate how ministry is to be interpreted and mostly how it's funded.  Because we all know the rubber that meets the road is the dollar.

If we concerned ourselves with being the body in our actions and thoughts, there would be little left over to make an issue.  It would be just the bottom drippings of the pan, not the focus of our meetings and swarming itself around the picnics like an unwanted pest.  Yet in our culture we find plethora of ideas to discuss, re-discuss and sometimes come to blows over how we are to best be Christ's body. 

Giving to the poor.  Period.  We can't determine a litmus test for who those people are because we might turn to be the victim and that can't happen.  We clothe our talks with being good stewards and claim that concept trumps all other motives.  As I dissect in my mind, our discussions seem to take flight whenever we bring up money or the spending of funds.  God has entrusted us, no doubt.  But he also says his ways are higher than ours.  Believing without knowledge, faith.  So how does God invade our spontaneity?  

Do we allow his voice to blow as a breeze, gathering our well intentions and doing more than we ask or dream of?  If gods will and character depended solely on our stewardship, then we would be the Main catalyst for all his work.  

In fact if it weren't for his gracious love, there would be no me.  I simply don't have the wherewithal to make sense of most of the issues I face daily.  I can plan and organize stuff and thought yet god is still mysterious.  We delete the mystery if it all comes back to me.

I think this makes room for free interpretation. Making gods word available to me, relevant for my world, my struggle this moment. Not based on works or how many committees I attend or how well I speak. Or the flamboyancy of my words and lifestyle.  How often I am more concerned with "who" is in and how comfortable I am with worshipping with "them" than listening to God, the source of love.  In fact, He is love.

Wow. It causes me to shelve my rustic opinions and forces me to remove the scales upon my vision so that I see. See what?  The lonely, the brokenhearted, the empty, the hopeless, the disabled.

See God doesn't miss them.  He not only makes room for them, he befriends them.  He desires to know their pain.  And he has the power to transform.  We seem to neglect the need for transformation when we've got the rhetoric down pat.  We know the drill.  This is our home.  Hummm.  Doesn't leave room for the outcast or the unspoken.  The spontaneous love that my redeemer has for me.

Yet we are called to be in His image.  Wonder as he scans the Earth to and fro, does he see us, completely His?  Or more committed to our tactics, means to an end, upholding of the rules,being the  gatekeepers of our pretty gathering places?  I hope he sees me.  More broken than ever, in need of unconditional love and more concerned with living the gospel Of love than preserving my territory or rewriting my laws of redemption.