Human Life Rafts

Sitting down to watch another documentary about living "off grid" last night we received one of those messages that make their way to us at usual and unusual times. The story of another family moving across state lines to try and restart their lives after walking through a church storm that left them bewildered at the "lies, deception and manipulation". Unfortunately, it's a very common story.

We listened to the brief story, much like all the others we hear, as the sun sank behind the mountains. We responded to the one who had reached out to us. They were beginning the journey of being a safe place for the couple to share the hard of their journey. They asked what would be helpful ways to encourage their friends. We told them that listening and being present is the best medicine you can offer. Encouraged them too to send the chart on grieving along to their friends and affirmed their thoughts that yes, more and more people were beginning to share their story and that yes, may reformation come. 

This was nothing the caller didn't already know, they had done those very things for us...they had said a long time ago, "We don't know what's going on with yall, but we trust the Holy Spirit in you." They would be a boon of hope for this family, we personally knew that to be true. A life raft of Life.

I woke this morning to rain on our roof and saw that the highs would be in the low 70's. It's still taking some getting used to wearing my fleece sometimes in the summer here, but I'm not complaining. :) Hotter days will come, but unlike the eternal heave wave of the summers of my homeland; a reprieve from high temps is always a few days away here in Appalachia. 

Sitting in my chair facing the window I was drinking my coffee as the sun made its way up. I thought about the young couple who have given years of their life to ministry and all to see the ugliness of power and empire in the church. I don't know the details, but the stories all have a mutual theme. A sigh came up from the bottom of my soul. They're just starting this journey and I know that no matter who says what or offers hope, it'll be a long road toward healing. I  stop and pray for safe harbors for them. As my coffee gets cold, I think about the ones who were a safe harbor for us during the hurricane of our spiritual journey.

We still talk about it sometimes over a glass of wine - those last days and particularly the last 24 hours in our hometown. It was a whirlwind of packing and goodbyes. We had gotten the moving van the morning before we left and friends had dropped everything, without us asking, to spend the day helping us pack up.

We woke early the next morning in the home of other precious friends down the street from our house. We were emotionally spent - emotionally exhausted from the longest, hardest part of our spiritual journey. Nothing prepared our hearts for what we saw when we rounded the corner to pick up the huge yellow moving truck.

Standing there in a huddle were a group of adults and children ready with donuts and coffee and hugs to send us on our way. They were the same people who had called and text asking to come by that morning and send us off...we had told them no, our hearts just couldn't handle seeing them in our rear view mirror. But there they were and we were undone by their kindness to wake up early on a Saturday morning, drag sleeping children out of bed and send us off. We couldn't talk through the tears making their way down our cheeks as we got out of the car. They pulled us all close, circled us and began to pray and speak words of life over us and our children. All we could do was weep.

We cannot think of or talk about that time without deep emotion. When you have weathered a storm, that seemed to have it's eye on ending the life of your spirit, those who gave you shelter are divine places of rest for your soul that you never forget. 

And there were many who had given us shelter. These saints offered a place at their table and embraced our weary bodies in the ancient hug and kiss Christians have shared since those gathered around the meal where He said, "Don't ever stop eating together and remembering me...I promise to be with you when you do."

The people willing to offer you safety from gale force winds and give your heart harbor, before you have to step back outside to make your way in a Divine tempest, it's what we talk about around our table with our children. The things we remind them are important as a Jesus follower. These people and others are the ones we point them to as brave saints who reflect Him.

The majority of people who pulled us close during that time never heard our story. It was not our goal to "turn people against [our church]" as leaders were telling people we were doing. The decision to move away from our city was to avoid the very thing we were being blamed for, dissension. It would be another lesson for us in the truth that He knows each heart and He knew ours no matter what others were thinking or saying.

It became clear to us that leaving would hurt people - whether they were hurt by our silence and feelings of abandonment as some later expressed or angered by our voice...there would be no avoiding it. We would be labeled and blamed. It is the most interesting thing to learn that you can be trusted to volunteer in an almost full time capacity at your church as you take care of people's hearts every day, but not trusted if you express concerns you are hearing from those very people too afraid to share with vocational leaders.

Sitting here today, though...we'd do the whole thing over again in order to be able to relate to those who we used to would have thought, "You just didn't try hard enough, didn't choose relationship enough, didn't lay down your life enough, didn't forgive enough, didn't understand how hard it is to be a leader enough, didn't ________..." Now we know.

Now we know how much pride was in our own hearts. The kind of pride that kept us from right relating and risking for what's true so that we could keep a good name and good face and keep everything we idolized  - community, place, vision, mission - safe and secure. 

An elder in our life, Ken Janke, is really more like an older brother in the faith. He's known us since we had teen acne. :) We love him and his wife Lori like family. He called recently and listened to the Lawman share where we're at with the farm, how our hearts are doing and how Chris will start his degree in spiritual direction this fall. "Remember how you've both had the dream to create a place of retreat for people weary of the journey? Remember how you wanted to be a safe place for church leaders...you have to walk through what you walked through to be a safe place for them. This part of your story was necessary. I'm proud of you."

Well. Trust older brothers in the faith to often be right. ;) And he is right this time, we had to walk through this to see things a different way. To really see if we would stand up for what we believe in, discover what hills we would be willing to die on and to understand that there comes a time when you can't keep "thinking the best" anymore, but rather speak what is true and hope for communication, conversation and connection...and know that it is very possible those things will not be reciprocated. 

We have not made this journey perfectly by any means. We are aware that we are too straightforward, too passionate and very often "too much" for many people. But we have tried to be honest and speak up for the ones who have been abused by the system, a system that needs to change.

So wherever you're at on your faith journey, know that He's with you. He knows your heart. And remember He's made YOU to be WITH others on their journey. You don't have to understand their story or even know their story, but please know that your presence and your comfort can be the life raft to someone certain they're going to drown in the storm.