When the Body of Christ Works Together...

 Just as a body, though one, has many parts, 

but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ.

 For we were all baptized by one Spirit 

so as to form one body

— whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—

and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.

 Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.

I Corinthians 12:12-14

Several months ago, while perusing Pinterest, I had a crazy idea. It's pure lunacy, really. So much room for error and/or failure. But, and this is unlike me, I decided to do it anyway.

I felt led to do a service project with the youth but something that would really require work of them. I know that 30 Hour Famines are popular, and the old raking the leaves thing is good, and canned food drives are always useful but in my personal experience, not much is really required of the kids. They don't do that much. And in a society where we're doing less and less, I wanted something that required work, effort, thought, and maybe even getting coaxed out of a comfort zone.

So I came up with a Santa Shop idea where we would make the gifts and sell them. Then, in a flash of divine intervention I changed it to Three Kings Gift Shop. After all, Santa's great but he wasn't at the manger (well, neither were the wisemen really but that's a whole other issue...). I suppose we could've gone St. Nicholas but I'm just now realizing that so oh, well! Anyway, I digress...

I spent hours combing Pinterest, reading directions, and carefully selecting gift ideas that fit a couple important criteria.
1) It had to be something people would actually want.
2) It had to be something we could make at minimal cost so I could keep our prices low.
3) It had to be something simple enough for even non-crafty people to make.

I found ten things which met those criteria. I put together a little catalogue and order forms. I ordered some literature from Samaritan's Purse and talked to the teens about raising money to purchase items that would go to people in third world countries. Items like goats, donkeys, honeybees, and fishing boats. Items that would profoundly change their lives, not just their day or week. Their lives. 

Then, I prayed. I prayed for moderate success because I was afraid of failure. Oh, ye of little faith. What if Peter or Paul had prayed for moderate success just in case they couldn't really lead all those people? What if Moses had only wanted moderate success? What if Abraham? Joshua? Gideon? Deborah?

And I think the teens only expected moderate success. They set a low goal for themselves of only $200. And for a minute there, it looked like that was going to be it. But then....

God didn't answer my prayer. He had His own agenda He was pushing and my potential for failure was not a deciding factor for Him. It never is.

The project exploded. We had over-whelming success. We raised $870, more than quadrupling our goal. I was humbled, the teens surprised, and the church family energized. God is good.

Then, I had to figure out how to make over 350 items. Egads. But this wasn't really my job. God had a plan. He'd had it worked out from the very beginning. All the way back to when He first planted this crazy idea in my brain and in my heart.

He planned on using this project to bring our church family together. You see, we've been hurting. It's a long story and quite ugly and this post is about celebration so I won't elaborate. It suffices to say, we've been hurting. We've been in need of something to make all of us feel connected and alive again. But I never imagined it would be this and that I would be part of it.

Last night 28 people, 14 adults and 14 kids (an all time high for youth attendance, actually) came together at house to make crafts. And it was busier than Santa's workshop. After several runs to houses for extra olive oil, after re-making several items because my measurements were off, after figuring out the best way to roll a square piece of paper into a cone, after deciding the perfect way to make a scarf for a snowman and turn a book into a tree...we had completed 5 projects and made well over 250 items. In just three hours. With no complaining and with lots of laughter.

And I noticed something. Everyone naturally found their place. Leaders took charge. Crafters used their experience and artistry to help others in this new area. People tried new things. Everyone pitched in. This is the Body of Christ in motion. Working as one. Glorifying God with our actions. So this is what Paul meant, this is what James wrote about. Faith in action, the Body together.

One boy collected a fistful of money to buy pizzas and breadsticks. A teenage girl prayed, one of my teens that always steps up to pray when everyone else feels tongue tied. She prayed for us, for our gifts, for the people we've loved and missed being able to come back and join us. She forgot to pray for the food, but ti didn't matter. God was there, He knew our thankfulness for His blessings. And this was the true breaking of bread...true communion, even if it was pizza and not a holy wafer.

I had set out to find a project that would bless other people, show the kids that they can make a difference, and help teach our youth how to work together with joyful spirits. But God had other plans. These things still happened but His plan was greater than mine, loftier than mine. He will bless the money we raised and the people whose lives it will help. But He blessed my life through this project and He blessed our humble, faithful church. He is truly the God who sees us, and He's been watching over us the whole time. And last night, He reached out and healed us. He was with us in the mess of olive oil on the counters, hot cocoa on the floor, and hot glue stuck on fingers. And that's what happens when the Body of Christ works together.

As the body without the spirit is dead, 

so faith without deeds is dead.

James 2:26

Where It's Safe

So Curtis and I have bad luck with cats, it seems. We can't seem to keep them at our house or alive for longer than about six months. Currently, we have two black cats we're trying to keep around and alive but they're not making it easy. Otis picks on Simon, even though Simon was there first. Simon's a timid cat so he runs away to avoid confrontation with Otis. Whenever he does come back he looks worse than the time before. This last time he came home we kicked Otis out for a few days so Simon could heal and rest. But Simon took off again after a few days and then Otis left, too. We were completely cat-less for about two-and-a-half weeks.

But then Otis appeared on our porch swing the other morning looking about three steps from death's doorstep. And his meow was the saddest, softest, raspiest sound I'd ever heard. So I put him in the garage for a couple of days with food and water, hoping he'd rest and get better. It started to work, his meow started to get strong again. But he left on Thursday morning when I took the car out of the garage. I found him later that afternoon across the ditch at the neighbor's house completely tangled in burrs and brush. He was lethargic and listless, other than meowing frantically at the site of me. So here I am, 7 months pregnant, climbing through the brush to loosen my darn cat. I went to get my neighbor to carry Otis back to our house (I had visions of me toppling forward into the ditch if I tried to pick him up, given the angle he was laying at and my rather large belly), but when I came back...Otis had disappeared again.

Bode and I looked for him last night and this morning. I worried all through the thunderstorms last night. Fact of the matter is, I don't know if he's strong enough to survive the kind of wind and heavy rains we had. My vet  said she'd take him as a good Samaritan case because we don't have extra money right now--but I have to have him first. I have to get him to come home before I can take him to her office.

I don't know if he'll be back. I don't know if he's still alive. And I really have no idea where Simon is or if he's alive. I tried to help them both. I put them where they were safe and had their needs met. But they both left, despite knowing that I equal safety. I know that they know that because when they see me, they come to me, they perk up, they meow. They know that if I see them, I'll help them, and that if they are where I am that they'll be okay. And yet...they left.

I was lamenting my frustrations the other night and realized...God does this with people all the time. We leave the place of safety, where all our needs are met. Sometimes we leave because we can't get along with the other people there (like Simon avoiding Otis). Sometimes we leave because it looks more interesting or exciting elsewhere (which is how we lost Felix, Luckey, and Milo). Sometimes we leave because we're just wild and refuse to be tamed (which was the case with Fiyero). And sometimes we come back, beat up, mangy, and dirty. When Simon came home last he stunk to high heaven because some other male had sprayed him. His ear was mangled. Otis has patches of fur missing and he lost about half of his body weight. We come back to God this way--a stinky, ugly mess and often too spiritually sick and starved to make it another day.

He puts us where we're safe. He cleans us up and gives us food and water. And if we'd just stay put, we'd be okay. In the Gospel of Luke we're led to believe that the prodigal son does just that. When he comes home, he stays put. He learned his lesson. But this is a parable and not a true story. And the true story often is that we stray again. We leave, for whatever reason. Sometimes we just think we're going out to enjoy the sunshine but we get caught in the brambles. Or side-swiped by life. We can't seem to just stay where it's safe.

Sometimes people leave God's safety and they never find their way back. They think they find something better or they think they've gone too far and can't come back. I think we've all known people that fall into this category. They give up on God because they believe He's given up on them. They keep leaving safety and there's nothing we can do to help them. Nothing but pray. But prayer is powerful, so it can be enough.

One comforting thing for us but perhaps even more heartbreaking for God is that He always knows where we are. Right now I have no idea where Otis is. I'm hoping he's next door somewhere and my neighbor finds him alive. But God always knows right where we are. He knows what we're up to and just how much danger or trouble we're in. I think this is more heart-wrenching for Him to watch us get beat up by life and make damaging choices. He doesn't force us to come back. He never will. That wouldn't be love. Jesus longs to shelter Jerusalem as a mother hen does her chicks, but the people refuse to be saved. The people refuse to be helped, loved, cared for. It breaks His heart. You can hear the lament in His voice. They just won't stay where it's safe.

So I'm not sure what's going to happen with my cats. I'm really hoping that Otis turns up again in the next couple days and I can take him to the vet. And maybe he'll learn to stay where it's safe, to stop straying so far or staying away for so long. And if you have a Simon or Otis in your life, a person like that, then I pray that they come back, too, and let God heal them.