Plastic Grass

Feel free to blame the following message on too much time ALONE with my neurotic thoughts and the need to unload them on someone. Congratulations, by the way, on being one of the few to carry the burden of my craziness. I in no way mean to be morbid or depressing. Hopefully this sharing will be cathartic for me and possibly even some sort of blessing to each of you. That is my intention anyway. I come in peace.

In order for you to understand the point that I am trying to make (i.e. get the punch line at the end), I need to share with you what I mean by the phrase “plastic grass.” I do not take credit for the wisdom/conviction that this phrase now holds for me (and my sister), no that honor belongs to a young man who is considered less fortunate in the world’s eyes and is a friend of my 11 year old nephew, Joseph. My sister, like many of us, has some “decorative” grass in a pretty container sitting on an antique sideboard in her dining room. One day when the aforementioned young man was visiting Joseph, he noticed the grass and proceeded to question Robin about it. In his innocence, he was most curious about how she managed to keep each blade of grass cut to the exact same length. Realizing his honest mistake, Robin smiled and gently informed him that the grass is not real – it is plastic. Out of the mouth of babes…… He looked up at Robin with even more confusion and simply asked, “Why?”

Exactly. Why?

How ridiculous it must have seemed to this wise little boy that a grown woman would place enough importance on something as unnecessary as plastic grass that she paid money for it and then displayed it in her home. How many things/activities/worries do we devote our time, money, energy and life to that would be considered just another batch of plastic grass? Not wrong in and of themselves, but definitely unnecessary and unimportant when measured against eternity or even our short time here on earth.

Now onto the actual message that has been heavy on my heart for the last few months……

After having a nice cry on the phone with my sister over the death of a teenage boy from her church that I have never met and discussing with her all the difficult yet amazing things that happened in the lives of the family, friends, church family and even strangers over the past week – I got to thinking. I know, I know, never a good idea for me to allow such things, but alas maybe something good will come of it for once. I got to thinking about all the people and families on my prayer list right now that are dealing with death – either the prospect of it in the many young mothers I know of right now who are battling some sort of cancer or the actuality of it in the loss of a son in a tragic car accident or the tiny casket of a precious baby boy who went to be with the Lord on February 24th while being rocked by his mommy with his daddy at his side. In any case, I was struck yet again by a TRUTH that came up in the conversation I had with my sister…..

It is an awesome privilege to KNOW and to be KNOWN.

The thought first came to me as Robin (my sister) was describing some of the items that Dallas’ (the teenager who passed away recently) young aunt brought to the church in memory of him. Of course, there were countless pictures of birthday parties, but she also included his favorite baseball cap and numerous cans of Red Bull (funny story behind that, right?). How did she decide what to bring, how did she know? Because Dallas was KNOWN to her. It hit me then, how blessed that I am to have and to KNOW “little” people in my life that if I allowed myself even for a second I could begin the list of things that I would remember them by. Because I KNOW them. What an honor and privilege I have to really KNOW Nicholas, Joseph, Lauren and Isabel (my nephews and nieces) and Emmylou Grace. And the equal honor and privilege it is to be KNOWN by them.

After I hung up the phone, I continued that thought to all the precious “big” people in my life. My mind was immediately overwhelmed by the thought of people literally all over the United States and even the World who KNOW me and undoubtedly would bring some of the quirkiest things imaginable to a service in remembrance of me. I thank God for the memories and even the belly laughs, who am I kidding, the full blown guffaws that will take place over the crazy that is Misty. Steven will be well taken care of (he doesn't yet realize that I will be going first).

In the midst of my joyful reverie, a cloud lingers. The darkness that we struggle against here on our most recent assignment in little B-town. We do not truly KNOW, nor are we KNOWN here.
I will not belabor all the reasons why we have allowed this to happen. Just take my word for it that the major contributor is the busyness of everyone's lives. Busy working. Busy raising kids. Busy with every activity imaginable. Busy building our castles in the sand. Busy chasing rainbows. Busy going to church even. Too busy for one another.

Do me a favor - stop toiling long enough to get your hands dirty in someone else's life. Strive only to KNOW and be KNOWN, first by the King of Kings then by those precious people already in your life.

Everything else is just plastic grass.

Between absolute fear and peaceful relief

That is where I find myself these days. As I continue to study what it means to function in the Body of Christ both in the Scriptures and books that have been written by "experts," I am experiencing what one might call a crisis of belief. With that in mind, I look at my little one and wonder how I will ever teach her effectively something that is completely foreign to me even though I have "attended church" my entire life.

Hence, the absolute fear - embarking on unchartered territory without experience or even a mentor to guide me, human, that is. Then, surpisingly, the peaceful relief - realizing that I truly have been brought by God to the end of myself, my knowledge and my personal experience (short trip). What a relief to finally acknowledge that I do not have the answers and to be forced to rely totally upon God regarding what happens next. No more pretending to myself that I have it all figured out. I humbly stand before the Lord wanting only to be obedient, no matter the cost - fear, rejection, uncertainty, loneliness, discomfort, etc.

That brings me to my devotion time this morning. First, I took a moment to rage a little of my frustations and confess my fears and lack of faith to the Lord, begging Him to give me the faith that I need to obey Him in this area of unfamiliarity. Crying to Him in loneliness that I CANNOT share this struggle with many of my Christian friends, but must bear it alone with my husband, daughter and the Lord.

You see, transparent honesty and hard questions are not usually welcome on Sunday morning. But instead are greeted with judgment and misunderstanding. I know, because I have sat in the judgment seat of hypocrisy myself and have listened countless times to conversations of contempt toward fellow brothers who have struggled fitting in with the status quo of human tradition. Then I turned to my study and what would I receive but a hug from the God of the Universe. The commentary written by Kay Arthur on today's portion of Scripture was as follows:

"Yes, friends and loved ones may belittle and ridicule our words and our choices, but what does it matter as long as God continually whispers, 'I know who you are, My child, and it brings Me pleasure.' Man, after all, was made for God's glory, God's pleasure. How then can man be complete or satisfied until he achieves that for which he was created?"

Indeed. Then the peace that surpasses all understanding rushes over me once again. Thank you, Father.

I read a lot

You know, anything that I can get my hands on to try to figure out what it means to be a Christ follower. What it looks, feels, tastes like, etc. Not to mention the fact that I have a little one now that I am responsible for living out my faith that she might also understand the person of Christ and how we funtion as members of His Body. With that in mind, many of my posts will be thoughts on what I have read recently regarding either parenting, prayer, missions, ekklesia, or some other topic that God places on my heart. Today is no exception.

First a question and a couple of verses then a quote from Ted Kimmel's Grace Based Parenting and a short thought, and I will leave it at that.

Are we too busy "going to church" to actually be the church?

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully adminstering God's grace in its various forms." (1 Peter 4:8-10)

"And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, (not sure he is referring to Sunday morning worship as we know it) as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another - and all the more as you see the Day approaching." (Hebrews 10:24-25, commentary mine)

"As author Reuben Welch said, 'I discovered that as I began to love people and care for people and become more involved with people, I had more joy, more life, more tears, more laughter, more meaning, and far greater fun than I ever had before." (p 79)

Sometimes I think that we miss "it" and Him when we spend so much time "attending" Bible studies, church services, etc. that we forget to engage in an intimate relationship with Him and each other and actually live this life together outside those hallowed walls.

Why the name covered in dust?

All of you familiar with Rob Bell and his book Velvet Elvis, already know what I am referring to in the title of my blog. But for everyone else and as a reminder to myself, I will share what the phrase "covered in dust" means. The best way I know how to do this is to share an excerpt from Mr. Bell's book:

"A friend of mine was in Israel a few years ago and saw a rabbi (Jewish teacher) go into a bathroom and his talmidim (students) followed him. They didn't want to miss anything the rabbi might say or do.

This kind of devotion is what it means to be a disciple.

One of the earliest sages of the Mishnah, Yose Ben Yoezer, said to disciples, 'Cover yourself with the dust of your rabbi's feet.' (page 130)"

That's it. That is what I want from my life. To keep following. Chasing Jesus. Walking directly behind Him, striving to follow Him and His teachings so closely that I have the dust from His feet all over me. After all the only thing that matters is Christ.