Chosen To Stand For Such A Time As This

I don’t know how to feel.

Right is wrong

Black is white

Left is right

and nothing is really anyone’s fault anymore.

The criminal is conditioned

the terrorist brainwashed

the murderer sick.

If everyone is sick

then is the well person now considered the one with a problem?

No one is to blame…

except you Believer.

Your love is mistaken for hatred.

your freedom for bondage

your acceptance for intolerance.

And it will get worse before it gets better.

So what do you have to say for yourself, Believer?

If you say nothing you are a coward

If you say something you’re an extremist

You can’t win for losing

so you might as well say what He said.

If you’re gonna go down,

go down with His Words on your lips.

Unapologetically.

Unashamedly.

Uncompromisingly.

Let your words be bold,

yet uttered with tenderness.

I want to be the Dangerous Christian

the one who talks about Church in the wild

The one who actually acts like she believes what she says she believes,

With a radical faith.

The one who could be convicted and condemned as a follower of Christ.

Because no longer do we have to travel across the world to be persecuted.

We can stay at home

And they’ll throw rocks at our castle

Windows will get busted

Doors will be kicked down

Houses set on fire

Because your light will shine in the darkness

And the darkness will comprehend it not

And it will try to hide from the light.

blaming the light

for illuminating what must be dealt with.

And in all of this I must ensure that when I am hated

that it is for His sake

Not because I am haughty, opinionated,

angry or annoying.

There is no anointing in annoying.

I know how to feel now…

Honored to live now…

Chosen to stand now…

Entrusted with the challenge

of being true to Him.

This is your time Believer!

To be loyal to His Name,

His Word,

His cause.

Not just to believe in God,

but to believe Him.

To trust what He said

and you can trust that when you recite His Words

that they will move Heaven and Earth,

they will change HIStory,

they will raise up a standard,

for such a time

as this.

Unexpected Epiphany

I sat in an auditorium chair; nervous but expectant. This was the first writer’s conference that afforded me appointments with publishers, agents and published authors. Fifteen minutes. How could I possibly communicate my ideas in a mere fifteen minutes? I sat in a chair next to Suzie Eller. This was different than the other meetings, because we belonged to the same community. The blogging community.

So I told her my dilemma. How I’ve been blogging, and writing a novel and now God throws in this twist…Executive Director of a non-profit organization…me? How does a retired home school mama find herself here? And what if I have to quit blogging? What if I never finish the book I’ve spent three years on?

She smiled, and calmly asked in her charming southern drawl, “What is your blog about, Kimberly?”

“I don’t really know, I guess it’s about finding out more about me and how I can influence my world for Him.”

“Do you realize that you’ve used the word ‘influence’ three times in this conversation?” She paused for effect. “What if I told you that it may not be important whether you ever get a book published or not? Whether you continue blogging or not? Clearly the thing that motivates you is to influence the world around you for Christ. However the Lord has you doing that is His business, wouldn’t you agree?”

I felt dizzy. How did this sweet lady figure me out better than I had figured myself out in less than ten minutes? I was struck dumb.

It’s amazing how epiphany bolts through like a bullet train, changing perspective and destiny. I can’t say that there has ever been a conversation that I can look back to that has caused such instant clarity before or since. And after meditating on Suzie’s wise words I realize that there was also wisdom in what I said that this place was all about…”finding out more about me and how I can influence my world for Him.” I guess I just didn’t expect what I found out about myself, or the way that the Lord would have me to influence others.

Epiphany changes the filter on the camera lens you are peering through. Even though the objects haven’t changed, the light in which you view them alters everything. I am called to influence, but how I influence may not be the same filter I saw myself using…and I am learning to leave all preconceptions at the door, because they are rarely what He has planned. What He has planned is usually much bigger.

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When Tragedy Strikes Too Close To Home

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Our girlish chatter stopped mid sentence as the car turned the corner revealing two blocks of emergency vehicles blocking our turn onto my street. I muttered something unintelligible to my friend as I hopped out of the car still rolling to a stop. “Excuse me ma’am, who are you?” A police officer stopped me before I could step foot on my block, “I live on that block,” I didn’t wait for a response and pushed past the police office and into the street.

My son had been home while I was at a women’s ministry dinner, and the iPhone he keeps telling me is ancient had batteries long ago dead. My heart pounded in my ears…was it my house causing all of that smoke? Had my son been calling desperate for comfort or even worse help? Turning the corner I saw ghostly grey plumes of smoke rolling in my direction. I sighed with relief. It was not my home. My son was in the front yard, camera in hand, waiting for my return.

On the way to my house, I must have still looked ashen as a neighbor grabbed me and held me saying, “No, it’s not your house, thank God.” And my son greeted me with the irritation that only comes when worry builds and communication fails, “When are you going to get a new phone Mom? I’ve been trying to call you for an hour!” His arm wrapped around my shoulders.

Two of my old Home Bible study members ran onto the block with admonishments similar to my son’s as they had tried to reach me to see if I was alright but to no avail. Arms all tangled in tearful hugs of relief, our eyes could not peel from the glowing embers of what was once home to a single mom and her two young adult children.

It was difficult to sleep that night as blue and red flickered on my ceiling past four a.m. There were sounds of hammering and staple guns as they boarded up what was left of the house. And then I remembered, in the midst of my relief, that it is still my neighbor’s house destroyed. The one I had invited repeatedly to my ladies’ Bible study on Wednesday mornings, but who had never come. My relief meant that someone else was suffering.

It was real to them. It was their two dogs killed by inhaling that ghostly vapor. It was their baby pictures and favorite sweaters and grandma’s afghans that had been roasted and then soaked. It was their life that had gone up in smoke. I went to sleep relieved but I woke up ashamed. I was relieved to be untouched while my neighbors had been devastated.

Sometimes, when tragedy hits closest to home, in our gratitude we forget to be sympathetic. Sometimes it’s easier to sympathize with the Christians on the other side of the world than it is with our next door neighbors. I wonder why?

Could it be that in our love for what belongs to us we grasp too tightly unable to see anything beyond ourselves? Could it be that our own neighborhood sees when our lawn needs to be mowed and hears our teenager shout angry things through the summer open windows? Could it be that placing ourselves in our neighbors shoes demands hand to hand interaction in a social media world, and we just don’t want to get involved? Could it be that we don’t know how to answer the awkward questions of why, and so we avoid putting ourselves in the position of being asked to begin with?

It is true. I am grateful for angels protecting my home. But in publicly acknowledging their presence in my home am I telling my neighbor that they were absent from hers?

Human nature hates the messiness of these questions. We default to what is easy, and sometimes what is easy is to turn away. But this is when I want His nature to overcome mine. His nature stands with us in the middle of crisis, never leaving us. His nature doesn’t run from unhappy endings and headlines, but runs to the rescue, sits beside those who have lost. Prays for those who are hurting.

The house is boarded up now. An empty container of what once was a home. And though I’ve since reached out to them, they have not responded. I can only pray that they have found the Source of all comfort. And yes, I pray for the persecuted on the other sie of the world because what they are experiencing is unthinkable. But sometimes my neighbor’s tragedies are forced on my realities and I would rather shove the pain of it aside than make it thinkable. Maybe the truth is that I am afraid to feel their pain.

It’s easier to send a nice check to the starving and hurting than to sit quietly with my neighbor as she sorts through charred memories. Maybe when tragedy hits too close to home it hits too close to home.

…and I chronicle His grace here

When You’re Between A Rock And A Hard Place

What do you do when you must stop your testimony mid sentence because in order to tell what God has done, you must tell what someone else has done, and love keeps you from just that?

What do you do when most of what you have to offer through life experience must be kept silent in order to keep from slander or harming your cause?

What do you say when you must risk any semblance of success you’ve attained in order to declare, “It is written!” and the masses watch while mocking and ask, “After all, are you afraid of success?”

It is lonely in this hard place. So few know what I am about. The details of the “why” in my life are hidden from plain sight. Without the “why” my actions look unkind…even unChristian.

I find myself in a place all-too-familiar; a place with a few sentinels standing guard amid a surrounding mob of accusers, and even worse, those who just curiously wonder and don’t know what to say.

I’ve been that person. The one who stands back at a distance, wondering how to approach someone walking through the Valley. Wondering whether or not they even want to be approached. It’s not easy being the Valley traveller or the onlooker. It’s awkward, and like most Americans we run from awkward and discomfort.

What do I do when I find myself in this place? The place where others out of discomfort look away? I run; run from the pain, the accusers, the curious, the awkward. I run to the one place that has sure footing amidst the slippery slopes. I run to the Rock that is higher, to the High Tower, to the Shadow that shields from the scalding heat of pressure. And I pray, “Lord, may You be glorified, even in my silence! May You be glorified even when standing for You looks like a defeat. Lord, not my will, but Yours be done in the broken pieces of my life.”

You see,

When you find yourself between a Rock and a hard place, the safest place is the Rock.

And I cleave to the only Foundation that never moves, my well worn, leather security blanket. For while I lay with this Book, cozy on my chest, it feels like some of my bleeding heart is mended. I remember that this life isn’t about my popularity, my expression or my opinions, but rather the laying down of these things that I might lift Jesus higher than my name, that I might express His feelings to this sad world, that I might hold closer to His opinions even than to my own.

It is in the cleft of this Rock where I watch the Presence fill up the Valley with Himself. He has given me a choice seat to watch His wonder, His glory fill my frightening Valley with light and splendor, and I peak from around the Peak like a child who peers from behind his mother’s skirts while she confronts her child’s bully.

Once again, “The Lord Himself will fight for you. Just stay calm.” Ex. 14:14

All that I have ever wanted is a chance to stand. Now that I have that chance, I want nothing more than to run. And this is fine, as long as I run toward His protection, behind the hem of His garment and let Him fight for me. I can run to the High Tower and then stand in the cleft of His Rock to watch Him do the fighting for me. Even when I want to be oh so strong, I am weak. In my weakness, I cleave to His un changing, everlasting words and I am made stronger than before.

…and I chronicle His grace here

Exchanging Our Plans for God’s

For months the Special Events and Fundraising Team and I had carefully planned every detail of the Taste of Love INC fundraiser. There would be a pie tasting, a pie auction complete with pastries baked by local pastors, a silent auction, a classic car show and outdoor games. Tents were borrowed, a restaurant sized mobile refrigerator ordered; the only thing we hadn’t planned on was three inches of rain.

Looking out my office window that morning, my eyes threatened to pool over like the parking lot down below. Basements had flooded. Streets were impassable. It looked like our outdoor event was a washout. The board president and I had a decision to make, should we cancel? Thirteen churches had joined efforts to bake pies, collect silent auction items and plan this event. Our annual budget depended on its success.

Luckily, the church who had originally offered their parking lot, offered their building (despite the fact that their basement was flooding). A new plan was formulating. Because when the enemy comes in like a flood, God raises a standard. An army of volunteers appeared and began moving tables, setting up chairs and working together. Someone got word that the nearby “Taste of Chicago” event had been cancelled that day, but the show would go on in suburban Tinley Park!

A few minutes before the event officially started, the troops gathered to thank God and pray. Somehow we did it! We set up inside for an event intended for outdoors, and in a fraction of the time we had originally planned. But would anyone come? Sewers were overflowing and backyards had become lakes.

Visitors began to trickle into the church until the entire Fellowship Hall was filled with smiling faces. Guests were tasting pies and exchanging narratives about sub pumps and downed power lines. Over the past six months there had been struggles. Disagreements and disappointments had seeped in here and there. Yet on this day, the Body of Christ worked together, looking past denominational differences and beyond differences of opinion. In fact, at our followup meeting we all agreed that God had a greater plan. His had been far more successful than anything we could have thrown together.

Looking back, I realize that the whole experience captures the core of what Love In The Name of Christ is all about. As a nonprofit organization Love INC strives to mobilize the local church in order to transform lives and communities in the Name of Christ. We empower our volunteers who are predominately from our participating churches with opportunities to reach out to those who are hurting in our community. In order to accomplish this, we listen to the agencies that we partner with to determine what needs are not being sufficiently met. After we decipher these “gaps” in service, we rally our churches by collecting product and training volunteers to fill in those voids. Thus far, our affiliate has started four gap ministries: an adult coat closet, a personal care pantry, a bunk bed and bedding ministry and finally a fresh start kit for those in need of household items.

Just like our fundraising event, there are daily struggles. Working interdenominationally can be a challenge at times. We often misunderstand and miscommunicate with one another. Many times the enemy tries to divide and conquer us. He knows that a house divided against itself can not stand. However, when we are united under the common cause of showing Christ’s love in practical ways the Body of Christ is a force to be reckoned with. This work of administering the Father’s love is common to every Christian and in the end is the one thing that matters more than anything. What a privilege it is to be entrusted with the job of provoking others to love and good works in this way.

Kim Sullivan is the executive director of Love INC of Tinley Park, IL, a non-profit service organization that brings together local churches, volunteers, and community agencies to help people in need. Kim began this new career in 2012 after “retiring” from home educating her three children. Kim’s passion for writing began as a child with her love of reading, and her first manuscript was a children’s picture book. She blogs at Journey to Epiphany. Kim has been married to Steve, her best friend and biggest supporter, since 2000 and together they have reared a happy blended household of five. As a Christian, Kim believes that her relationship with Christ is the most important thing in her life. He is all that matters and she is very grateful to be His girl. Kim loves finding the extraordinary in the ordinary and finding lessons in unexpected places.

Sharing over at the High Calling.

When the Enemy Comes In Like A Flood

When the enemy comes in like a flood….

And it’s during your non profit organization’s biggest annual fundraiser

Which is planned for outdoors

And you have no plan “b”.

When a deluge of doubt drowns all that was sprouting green

And hope is as damp as the basement floor

That threatens to pool over like the tears in your eyes.

When carefully laid plans seem to lay in waste

And a crew of almost 100 looks to you to make a decision

Whether to admit defeat or somehow trudge on.

When even after clouds empty the air is thick with Mosquitos and humidity

And parking lots are lakes

And dreams threaten to turn to nightmares.

God raises a standard.

And it almost always includes His army

Of mighty workers and trusters

Who look in the face of doubters and dare to defy disaster.

God raises a standard of men and women

Who work together to see how we can make it happen.

Even in the midst of near fundraising tragedy.

God raises a standard

Better than our plan “a”

With fellowship and smiles and never one cross word.

 

God raises a standard

A plan better than ours

And once again I remember…

 

Still counting

Three gifts water…

110. Morning downpour places screen with Monet masterpiece.

111. Deluge turns into delight

112. Running water in my home.

Three gifts curled.

113. Dog sleeping

114. Me curled up on office floor napping.. 🙂

115. Eyelashes

Gifts in life, growth and decline

116. Baby boom at church

117. Taste of Love INC money raised!

118. Decline of 7 day work weeks now that the Taste is over.

Three gifts yellow

119. Early morning sun through trees.

120. Lone Black-eyed Susan in a sea of green.

121. Church family donned in Taste of

Love INC yellow.

122. Firemen.

123. God’s protection.

124. My neighbor’s safety.

Three gifts hanging down.

125. vbs props

126. Flower baskets – gifts from God.

127. Neighbor’s grape fines dripping sweetness.

Thre gifts learned

128.

129.

130.

Three gifts musical.

131. Birdsong

132. #Connect14 worship

133. Her. She sings in her sleep.

Three gifts baked.

134. Sourdough bread

135. Double chocolate cupcakes

136. Lasagna

Gifts in light, darkness and shadows.

137. Grandma’s house.

138. Sunrise shadows.

139. Dark and cool forests.

…sharing a playdate with Laura:
and at a new place for writers Unforced Rhythms of Grace.

and with beautiful Jennifer Dukes Lee…
strokec2 }

 

 

All for the Joy

This is a repost…but I don’t think I could write a better description of my life today.

How to be deeply pressed and yet not be depressed.
How to remain under stress and not crack for the pressure cooker that transforms uncooked hard flesh to tender heart.
How to allow the bitter to turn sweet. How?

How to face giants without human companionship.
How to distinguish small still voices swallowed in roaring, raging winds.
How to say yes when it would be so much easier to say no. How?

Jesus, our mentor, has gone before us in every area, this one incuded. Pressed on every side, and pressured by the enemy to turn back from His assignment, he stayed. He stayed unmoving even under pressure that squeezed blood from His sweat glands. He did it for the joy that was set before Him.

And maybe this is how. Maybe we can do it for the joy that is set before us. The promises that seem just beyond our reach.
The lives who might be changed for our unmovable, unshakeable stand. The snatches of Glory in every day life, even in the midst of disappointment.

Those who loved Jesus best thought He would be a rising political force or an influential prophet. How He must have felt their disappointment! He didn’t appear to be the success others expected Him to be. I wonder if He was tempted to be disappointed Himself? But the joy that was set before Him was that of perfect obedience. Obedience that cared not for the whispers behind His back. The whispers of, “What a shame! He had such potential!” Obedience that desired His Father’s will above being understood by those closest to Him.

Though surrounded by His best friends, he was alone, and yet in this solidarity His biggest and best calling was realized. And in this Solitary Refinement the biggest and best of your callings will also be accomplished. So stay, dear one, stay still in the Garden, your most effective days are right around the corner.

Counting under pressure

Three gifts I gave:

88. The gift of time to make blueberry muffins.
89. I gave worry back to my Father.
90. Prayers for my neighbors during the storm.

Three things loved…

91. This guy and his girl.
92. This man of God.

93. This girl and all of her idiosyncrasies.

Three things read:

94. A word in due season.

95. Random sweetness.

96. Opportunity knocking…

Gifts of faith, family and freedom.

97. Sufficient grace.
98. Sons who change their schedule to comfort moms.
99. Freedom to express…

Gifts of red, white and blue…

100. Redneck truck

101. Lacey flower

102. Blueberry crisp.

Three gifts of perseverance.

103. God’s grace to endure.
104. Beauty in a tangled mess.

105. My pastor’s wife whose life speaks loud.

Three gifts of encouragement.

106. A dog excited about the “w” word.

107. Birdsong
108. I can!

…sharing a playdate with Laura:
and at a new place for writers Unforced Rhythms of Grace.

and with beautiful Jennifer Dukes Lee…
strokec2 }

And with my dearest Emily…

Finding “Me”

I stand in front of the mirror, and see someone I barely recognize. It’s me in a business suit, with short, well-groomed hair and nails done; a far cry from the long skirts, ballerina flats and hand knit sweaters I had become comfortable in.

The way that I have come to dress is only the tip of the iceberg. I am playing the main role, and all I ever expected of myself was to be the supporting actress. I have lunch appointments with prospective donors and regularly scheduled speaking engagements. Yet, at home I am Mom, wife, lover and maid. At church I am still Kimmie, ready to bake dozens of cookies in a moment’s notice. I stand out of balance, straddling betwixt two different roles, one familiar, the other causes me to turn and gawk in the mirror wondering, Who is that woman?

And I wonder….

Pastor says that we must never become on the outside what we have yet to become on the inside. Is this who I am on the inside? Am I kidding myself? Worse yet, am I kidding others?

Can I be this person from the inside out?

Then an even more basic question comes to mind. Who am I to decide who I am? Inside or out? Can I be trusted with such an important question? If left to myself, I would probably be sipping tea in a cottage, writing, not interacting with many. Who knows if I’d ever be published…If I’d ever influence any lives.

And isn’t that all that matters? Influencing the world around us? If writing is for writing’s sake, or just because it is what I see myself doing, but it changes nothing and no one, then what does it really matter if I ever write another word? My self portrait isn’t always accurate. Recently I saw this amazing ad by Dove, and I started thinking about how I see myself as opposed to how God sees me. I see myself as someone with little to offer. I would rather surround myself with beauty and comfort,too timid to relate to others in fear of saying the wrong thing. But what does God see in me?

Ralph Waldo Emerson said,

The purpose of life is not be happy. It’s to be useful, honorable, compassionate; to make a difference in other’s lives.

I once wrote about how a wise woman helped me discover my motive in writing. In finding my motive, I found that it wasn’t writing itself that i found joy, but in the desire to make a difference in the lives of others.

Jesus probably didn’t really see Himself dying on the cross until He gave Himself up to His Father’s will. He busied Himself with the 12, the 70, the city or perhaps even a people…but ALL people? He had to die to self and any personal dreams that He had in order to accomplish what God wanted for His life and for the lives of the whole world.

It isn’t comfortable, the things I am asked to do. I often feel that The Lord has chosen the wrong girl…but then I realize what good company I’m in and how many others wondered the very same thing. And I have to wonder, am I seeing myself through my eyes or His? I don’t have to be anything, because I died with Him. I just have to let Him be in and through me whatever He wills.

It matters less and less how I see myself and more and more how others see Him in me.

And here is the ultimate paradox, the more I lose myself the more I find who I was created to be.

So, dear friend, shall we venture out together to become the one He sees in the mirror? Are we ready for the view of ourselves to be beautiful, strong and empowered with His might becoming not all that we can be, but all that He can be through us?

Sharing with dear Emily…

And fantastic Michelle.

The Fray and the Face of God

“I found God on the corner of First and Amistad…” I’m not sure what the writers of this song meant by this line, but I know what it has meant to me.

I’ve always longed to see the face of God. I’ve looked in the faces of my family and have seen a glimpse of Him in their eyes, yet the glimpse slips through my fingers and is forgotten like warm summer sand is remembered no more in the midst of a long winter.

I’ve looked in the face of spiritual leaders and have found perfectly flawed men and women, striving to be seen in His image, relying on His grace….and a glimmer of His features are vague, unstable pixels from an other-earthly camera.

But I’ve never seen the face of Jesus as clearly as when I find myself in the middle of this scripture.

I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’ (Matthew 25:36 NLT)

As Executive Director of Love INC of Tinley Park I am often given the precious opportunity to peer into Jesus’ eyes in what might seem some very unlikely places…through the eyes of the hungry, the homeless, and the heartbroken.

It is so easy to judge why a person has become who they are, but the most important question in the Love INC process is “How is it that you find yourself in this difficult situation?” …and then we listen. We listen to pain and promise. We hear so much more than the initial need which provoked the phone call. Loneliness, abandonment, betrayal and misdirection reveal themselves in the stories told. It is then that we can go to work. We can go to work because we have allowed the person to become more than a client with a current need. They are now a living, breathing, feeling person with a past, present and future. They aren’t an empty pantry or an unpaid light bill, instead they are a lonely seventy-five year old man who hasn’t seen his daughters for over fifty years; Or a woman who has had the courage to start over again after her abusive husband pushed her down the stairs; or the family who has just recovered from Mom having cancer treatment just to find out that their son has a brain tumor.

It is in their eyes that I see Jesus, because He told me that when I am serving them I am serving Him. It is where I found God…my corner of First and Amistad.

Dream Gardens

This is the time of year when I long to grow seedlings in my basement window. I never act on this yearning, but the longing remains. I dream of growing a vegetable garden and becoming self sufficient on a whole new level. I wish to change a small corner of my yard from a hard barren weed patch into a garden of plenty.

I watch with more than a little jealousy as my neighbors and friends invest time into this effort, while I sit by reading The Secret Garden…dreaming. But it doesn’t matter how long I dream, if I don’t actually sink my hands into the dark chocolate soil and plant a seed, I will never have the satisfaction of eating the fruit of my labor.

It kind of makes me wonder…what other dreams do I have which I lament over but do nothing to bring them forth? Desires that I long for but do nothing to make them happen?….maybe the dream of being Executive Director who still finds time to blog, or the dream of a working woman who completes the novel she’s been working on for four years..or is it five?

I am praying that God gives me the energy to put feet to my dreams. That I wouldn’t fear getting dirty while planting seeds of the future. That I would have the strength of character to say no to the everyday weeds I choose to embrace over the sweat of diligence.

Let this post be the window to your garden. Do you like what you see? If not, do what is difficult now in order to create what is beautiful later. Lets do it together! You won’t be sorry…