Let's be clear from the top: judgment and discernment are not the same.
This is fairly obvious to the one doing the discerning, but not so much to the one being discerned.
I know, because I've been in both places. Many times.
I hear it often. "You're judging me." "The Bible says not to judge." "Everyone's judging me."
It is easy to fall into a self-righteous mode. "No-one judges me but God."
And they're right. No one should judge but God. To use Seussian terminology, I WOULD NOT, COULD NOT judge another person.
The Bible is clear in James 4:11-12:
Speak not evil one of another, brethren. He that speaketh evil of his brother, and judgeth his brother, speaketh evil of the law, and judgeth the law: but if thou judge the law, thou art not a doer of the law, but a judge. There is one lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy: who art thou that judgest another?
There are few events that are recounted in great detail in all four gospels but Jesus' words on judging others is one. "Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged.." (Matthew 7:1-2)
I do NOT want to be judged the same way my human nature tends to judge. I know the Lord is more merciful than I am and I will not subject myself to the unyielding scorn that comes from the flesh.
Besides, how can I cast any stones?
I WAS that woman in John Chapter 8 and if Jesus had not defended me, I wouldn't be where I am today.
I have compassion. And empathy. And love.
I have a heart for the lost and dying and I do not sit in judgment because I, too, was once lost and dying.
But I do have discernment. In fact, anyone with the Holy Spirit residing within them has a measure of discernment. It's that "feeling" when something isn't quite right, the intuitive knowing when the words are right, but the spirit is off. It's also how you know, immediately after meeting someone, that you've just met a fellow brother or sister in Christ.
Discernment is an incredible gift from the Lord, one that should be used with wisdom.
I've seen people use a "gift of discernment" to ridicule someone, to destroy groups, and to spread gossip. I tend to think that if you are using discernment for destruction, it isn't a gift from the Holy Spirit at all but rather familiar spirits revealing things for evil intentions.
God builds up; He doesn't blow up.
But He does tell us in Galatians 6 to help someone overtaken by sin. That means not to look the other way nor to allow the person to continue in their deception. To speak up with boldness is the right, godly thing to do. As long as it is done with meekness and love.
It isn't often received well. Who wants to be "called out" for doing wrong?
I didn't.
A little over a year ago I lost hearing in my right ear. If it was a spiritual test, I failed miserably. I spiraled quickly. I went from an outgoing, bubbly hospitality queen to a tired, cranky hermit.
And I didn't want to hear a word about it.
I got defensive when people would ask my husband what was wrong. HOW DARE THEY JUDGE ME, I'd fume. I'd use their concerns to further alienate myself, placing the blame on them instead of where it belonged. Solely on me.
I now realize, with the clarity of hindsight, that they were concerned. I wasn't myself and they knew it. I was angry at myself, probably a little angry at God, and had absolutely no idea how to get back to where I needed to be.
Fortunately, God did and He guided me back to that place where He covered me and became my shield (Psalm 91:4).
By then I was a little embarrassed and wouldn't have minded moving to a foreign country where no-one knew me, but that wasn't an option so I had to face my "accusers" in open court a.k.a. Sunday morning church.
Wow. Give me this jury after every trial because all I heard once I came out from under my dark cloud was "Glad you're feeling better." That's it.
There never was any judgment, just concern and love. And as quickly as it had started, it was over.
True discernment from true Christians brings truth. Truth in love. Truth in light. Truth that makes darkness dissipate.
Three Simple Do's and Don'ts of Discernment:
1. Don't believe that the world is judging you when truth is revealed. Do remember that truth is the biggest weapon against darkness.
2. Don't use your discernment to harm someone. Do speak truth in love, with meekness and kindness.
3. Don't run away just because others see you in a fault. We ALL have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. (Romans 3:23) True friends, real Christians, will stand with open arms for you just as you've done for them.
Saturday, December 9, 2017
Saturday, November 4, 2017
A Kingdom Kindermat
By Friday afternoon I needed a nap.
I haven't been a big fan of naps since my firstborn arrived with her days and nights obviously mixed up.
In fact, I was sympathetic to the kindergarteners in my class who absolutely hated when it was time to pull their mats out. So we had a little secret. After the first 5-10 ten minutes, when everyone else was asleep, the no-nappers could play quietly with a toy while I looked over papers and wrote lesson plans.
It worked.
When Dale and I married, I marveled at his ability to fall asleep for a quick nap wherever he was. It is sometimes slightly insulting when I am mid-sentence, and downright scary when he is driving, but I do admire the peace one must have to sleep so peacefully at any time.
It has taken me considerably longer to master the art of peaceful sleep. But I am getting there and it is a true miracle to lay my head down, no medication and no jumbled thoughts, and go to sleep. However, I make sure not to sleep late in the morning not to nap in order to keep getting that restorative sleep.
But this week was unusual.
From notifying the wrong family of their son's death due to a mix-up with the county coroner to sitting with a dying woman I'd grown close to on the streets, it was one of the toughest weeks I'd had yet.
A job offer came in the midst of it, and I had to discern if it was a door God was opening or a very close match.
Note that a very close match isn't actually God. It may look like God; it may sound like God; and it might just be an answer to prayer.
But the devil opens doors too. And sometimes we go pretty far down the path before we realize it.
I didn't want to make a mistake.
I'd done that before.
So I prayed. And I listened.
In the midst of everything going on in my personal life and on the streets, I also had nine women who needed me. Their lives couldn't be put on hold just because mine had gotten busy.
So I kept going. Getting up even earlier and staying up later, I took care of my house, my husband, my dogs, the business, the bills, and the church before heading to the hospital each day. We had five services this week, and I thank God for every one of them. I needed to be refueled this week.
But Friday afternoon I was exhausted.
"Susan" had died the day before and I'd notified a few of her friends, at the family's request. Ironically, her former long-time companion was in a separate wing of the hospital at the same time but when I stopped by to tell him of her passing, he was in such a bad state that he didn't know who I was. But those on the streets did.
And her death hit hard. While the other guy had died after overdosing, Susan died waiting on disability so she could get a place to live. She spent the last few months in pain, self-medicating with alcohol while undetected cancer spread throughout her body.
Nobody knew. Not even her.
Now her death was bringing their decisions and their own mortality to light. It was a mirror no-one wanted to look into.
Including me.
Because I'd gotten so tired of the games and manipulation my heart had recently been hardening toward the people that had occupied the most space there for the last few years.
With her death, it softened. And the floodgates opened. Compassion, empathy, sorrow, grief- a barrage of feelings enveloped me and I was overwhelmed.
I led the devotion at the Women's Home Friday morning and took a resident to a job interview. A trip to Mandeville got canceled last minute so I took advantage of the unexpected break and napped.
Or tried to.
My husband has been working on our new house from sun-up 'til sun-down every day this week and he must have subconsciously (intentionally?) plotted his revenge because he woke me up unnecessarily three times before I gave up and just spent some time with the Lord, going over it all.
Sometimes you just need a nap.
But, sometimes, you just need to pull out a kingdom kindermat, a quiet time where you can just rest in the Lord and allow Him to minister to your needs.
I haven't been a big fan of naps since my firstborn arrived with her days and nights obviously mixed up.
In fact, I was sympathetic to the kindergarteners in my class who absolutely hated when it was time to pull their mats out. So we had a little secret. After the first 5-10 ten minutes, when everyone else was asleep, the no-nappers could play quietly with a toy while I looked over papers and wrote lesson plans.
It worked.
When Dale and I married, I marveled at his ability to fall asleep for a quick nap wherever he was. It is sometimes slightly insulting when I am mid-sentence, and downright scary when he is driving, but I do admire the peace one must have to sleep so peacefully at any time.
It has taken me considerably longer to master the art of peaceful sleep. But I am getting there and it is a true miracle to lay my head down, no medication and no jumbled thoughts, and go to sleep. However, I make sure not to sleep late in the morning not to nap in order to keep getting that restorative sleep.
But this week was unusual.
From notifying the wrong family of their son's death due to a mix-up with the county coroner to sitting with a dying woman I'd grown close to on the streets, it was one of the toughest weeks I'd had yet.
A job offer came in the midst of it, and I had to discern if it was a door God was opening or a very close match.
Note that a very close match isn't actually God. It may look like God; it may sound like God; and it might just be an answer to prayer.
But the devil opens doors too. And sometimes we go pretty far down the path before we realize it.
I didn't want to make a mistake.
I'd done that before.
So I prayed. And I listened.
In the midst of everything going on in my personal life and on the streets, I also had nine women who needed me. Their lives couldn't be put on hold just because mine had gotten busy.
So I kept going. Getting up even earlier and staying up later, I took care of my house, my husband, my dogs, the business, the bills, and the church before heading to the hospital each day. We had five services this week, and I thank God for every one of them. I needed to be refueled this week.
But Friday afternoon I was exhausted.
"Susan" had died the day before and I'd notified a few of her friends, at the family's request. Ironically, her former long-time companion was in a separate wing of the hospital at the same time but when I stopped by to tell him of her passing, he was in such a bad state that he didn't know who I was. But those on the streets did.
And her death hit hard. While the other guy had died after overdosing, Susan died waiting on disability so she could get a place to live. She spent the last few months in pain, self-medicating with alcohol while undetected cancer spread throughout her body.
Nobody knew. Not even her.
Now her death was bringing their decisions and their own mortality to light. It was a mirror no-one wanted to look into.
Including me.
Because I'd gotten so tired of the games and manipulation my heart had recently been hardening toward the people that had occupied the most space there for the last few years.
With her death, it softened. And the floodgates opened. Compassion, empathy, sorrow, grief- a barrage of feelings enveloped me and I was overwhelmed.
I led the devotion at the Women's Home Friday morning and took a resident to a job interview. A trip to Mandeville got canceled last minute so I took advantage of the unexpected break and napped.
Or tried to.
My husband has been working on our new house from sun-up 'til sun-down every day this week and he must have subconsciously (intentionally?) plotted his revenge because he woke me up unnecessarily three times before I gave up and just spent some time with the Lord, going over it all.
Sometimes you just need a nap.
But, sometimes, you just need to pull out a kingdom kindermat, a quiet time where you can just rest in the Lord and allow Him to minister to your needs.
Saturday, September 9, 2017
What I Thought Was an End Was Actually a New Beginning
I really thought this blog was done.
I hadn't stopped writing; quite the opposite, I was writing more. But this was a homeless blog. And my homeless ministry had ended.
Or so I thought.
After all, it was no longer bearing fruit.
In Luke Chapter 13, Jesus teaches the parable of the barren fig tree.
“A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came seeking fruit on it and found none. Then he said to the keeper of his vineyard, ‘Look, for three years I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree and find none. Cut it down; why does it use up the ground?’ But he answered and said to him, ‘Sir, let it alone this year also, until I dig around it and fertilize it. And if it bears fruit, well. But if not, after that you can cut it down.’” (v. 6-9)
My own timeline was similar.
What began as a great work had turned into something more secular. I was housing and transporting in the name of ministry but sharing the gospel had been pushed to the back burner. They still got a dose of the Word on Sundays when I picked them up for church, but from Monday- Saturday, nothing changed.
Actually, from the moment I dropped them off after church on Sunday, they quickly and willingly returned to their own spiritual filth. Proverbs 26:11
What was I doing?!!
Then, late last year, a series of events occurred that had me surveying my fig tree.
I completely lost hearing in one ear causing panic and a rush to find answers.
One of the clients in our permanent supportive housing became more than I could handle, given my already weakening state.
And three of my most beloved homeless guys (including Scooter) were given the opportunity to move into an apartment, no strings attached. No job, no money, nothing. They didn't even have to get sober. All they had to do was leave the homeless camp.
AND THEY REFUSED!
I didn't understand.
And I wasn't sure what I was doing anymore.
My heart was still with the homeless and I didn't want to just quit. But I knew something had to change. I asked the Lord (my vineyard keeper) to give me time to get things right. I knew it was going to require some deep tilling around the roots. I was quite aware that some of the problem lied with me and I wanted to get things right.
Reflecting back last month, I told my dad and sister I knew I was about to head down the wrong road to which they both snorted, "About to?! Honey you blew past THAT exit at 90 mph and never looked back."
Well, maybe they were right. I definitely opened a door out of fear and frustration and found the force of all I'd come against for the last couple of years standing there ready for a full-fledged assault.
But this time it was different.
In the past, I'd gotten derailed and then sulked and licked my wounds before I decided to return to serving the Lord. I no longer had that option.
It wasn't so much that I still had a church to stand in front of each Sunday but the words of Sister Ellen from my ordination service. "You are now held to a higher calling." There would be no sulking. No hiding. And no running.
It was time to stand up and fight.
I went out on the streets and told everyone I was taking three months off. I wouldn't be available by phone and I wouldn't pick up for church. I turned my housing clients over to other organizations and I canceled all meetings.
I went back to that place with the Lord where everything made sense. The cross.
I began writing, finally finishing some work I'd started years ago. Bible studies, reflections, devotions. I prayed. I read my Bible for hours at a time.
At the end of three months I was ready to survey my tree a little more objectively. Okay, Lord, I said. You can cut it down. Whatever you have next for me, I'm ready. But in the meantime I'm going to serve you, worship you, and rest.
I was enjoying it. After going 24/7, I appreciated the slower pace. I cultivated friendships. I took time to smell the roses, both literally and figuratively.
And I kept writing.
I decided that this was my new ministry. The Lord was going to use me through my words. I have 18 different titles in varying stages and I was sure this was His plan.
When I got the call asking me to once again chair the review committee for homeless grants, I declined. That part of my life was over. I'd hewed around that tree and it had toppled over.
But she persisted. And I agreed.
It was something I enjoyed doing and I had the time.
At the same time, the men's transitional home we'd been ministering in was about to embark on a new journey with a women's campus. Would we be interested in helping there as well?
Their program is a 9-month Christian transitional home for men (and now women in a separate campus) who are recovering from alcohol or drug problems as they re-enter society through the workforce by living and working in a controlled living environment with graduating levels of privileges until their graduation.
Having already grown close to the founders, we were happy to help. I could write curriculum for the women; I was already writing 6-7 hours a day. Not so coincidentally, I'd pursued a PhD in curriculum and instruction before we moved from Oklahoma to Mississippi, so this would be my way of "doing something" with a degree I was unable to complete.
Two months into my writing for women I'd yet to meet, I felt a strange stirring within. It wasn't as strange as it was scary. I couldn't make a ministry mistake again so I didn't immediately acknowledge it. I toe-tested the water.
Committing only to helping out from time to time, we discussed policies and procedures and plans and growth and problems unique to women. I kept writing, devising a binder of self-study devotions and program rules.
When the binder was 90% complete, I received a call.
"We're interviewing Program Directors this week," they said. "We'd like for you to be a part of this process and to help whoever we hire."
That stirring inside went into full-blown blender mode. No, I realized, the Lord has had this for me the whole time. I just didn't trust that feeling until now. But do I want to commit?
"I'd like to do it myself, " I surprised us all by saying just three days later. "And I don't need a salary."
The last statement might've been shocking to them, but my husband understood.
As a young woman I'd wanted to go see a popular Christian speaker at my home church. Everyone was talking about it and it was a big draw for our town. But with four young kids, I couldn't afford the $35 ticket price.
I made a vow to the Lord right then. If He ever used me, I would not take a dime.
I've still held true to that promise.
We don't take a salary for the church or the ministry. The Lord provided by allowing us to manage a company owned by our associate pastor, a business that quadrupled its business when the proceeds began being used to further the gospel. I can work from home or on the road, taking orders and sending invoices. It is something I enjoy doing and not at all time-consuming.
It has been a true example of Where God Guides, He Provides. (Thank you, Jenni, for reminding me of that early on.)
Once the commitment was made, we went full-force. I met the girls and started working on individual plans. My review committee meeting reminded me that transitional homes fall under homeless status.
My fig tree had life.
It turns out that something I thought was dead wasn't dead after all. I had been so focused on one dead branch that I didn't realize I was no longer looking at the whole tree.
My tree may have withered and fallen over, but it had a strong root.
And like the wild grass that peppers our church lawn, it may have bent over to the point where it looked like it had been cut, but all it took was a good rain to pop back up.
I'm excited for this new journey in my life.
It is new in many ways, but it's also a continuation of what the Lord started three years ago.
I'm excited to see where it goes.
I will continue to periodically share posts relating to the homeless ministry on this blog but I am mostly focusing on the new blog: www.askgigielizabeth.blogspot.com Feel free to follow both!
I hadn't stopped writing; quite the opposite, I was writing more. But this was a homeless blog. And my homeless ministry had ended.
Or so I thought.
After all, it was no longer bearing fruit.
In Luke Chapter 13, Jesus teaches the parable of the barren fig tree.
“A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came seeking fruit on it and found none. Then he said to the keeper of his vineyard, ‘Look, for three years I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree and find none. Cut it down; why does it use up the ground?’ But he answered and said to him, ‘Sir, let it alone this year also, until I dig around it and fertilize it. And if it bears fruit, well. But if not, after that you can cut it down.’” (v. 6-9)
My own timeline was similar.
What began as a great work had turned into something more secular. I was housing and transporting in the name of ministry but sharing the gospel had been pushed to the back burner. They still got a dose of the Word on Sundays when I picked them up for church, but from Monday- Saturday, nothing changed.
Actually, from the moment I dropped them off after church on Sunday, they quickly and willingly returned to their own spiritual filth. Proverbs 26:11
What was I doing?!!
Then, late last year, a series of events occurred that had me surveying my fig tree.
I completely lost hearing in one ear causing panic and a rush to find answers.
One of the clients in our permanent supportive housing became more than I could handle, given my already weakening state.
And three of my most beloved homeless guys (including Scooter) were given the opportunity to move into an apartment, no strings attached. No job, no money, nothing. They didn't even have to get sober. All they had to do was leave the homeless camp.
AND THEY REFUSED!
I didn't understand.
And I wasn't sure what I was doing anymore.
My heart was still with the homeless and I didn't want to just quit. But I knew something had to change. I asked the Lord (my vineyard keeper) to give me time to get things right. I knew it was going to require some deep tilling around the roots. I was quite aware that some of the problem lied with me and I wanted to get things right.
Reflecting back last month, I told my dad and sister I knew I was about to head down the wrong road to which they both snorted, "About to?! Honey you blew past THAT exit at 90 mph and never looked back."
Well, maybe they were right. I definitely opened a door out of fear and frustration and found the force of all I'd come against for the last couple of years standing there ready for a full-fledged assault.
But this time it was different.
In the past, I'd gotten derailed and then sulked and licked my wounds before I decided to return to serving the Lord. I no longer had that option.
It wasn't so much that I still had a church to stand in front of each Sunday but the words of Sister Ellen from my ordination service. "You are now held to a higher calling." There would be no sulking. No hiding. And no running.
It was time to stand up and fight.
I went out on the streets and told everyone I was taking three months off. I wouldn't be available by phone and I wouldn't pick up for church. I turned my housing clients over to other organizations and I canceled all meetings.
I went back to that place with the Lord where everything made sense. The cross.
I began writing, finally finishing some work I'd started years ago. Bible studies, reflections, devotions. I prayed. I read my Bible for hours at a time.
At the end of three months I was ready to survey my tree a little more objectively. Okay, Lord, I said. You can cut it down. Whatever you have next for me, I'm ready. But in the meantime I'm going to serve you, worship you, and rest.
I was enjoying it. After going 24/7, I appreciated the slower pace. I cultivated friendships. I took time to smell the roses, both literally and figuratively.
And I kept writing.
I decided that this was my new ministry. The Lord was going to use me through my words. I have 18 different titles in varying stages and I was sure this was His plan.
When I got the call asking me to once again chair the review committee for homeless grants, I declined. That part of my life was over. I'd hewed around that tree and it had toppled over.
But she persisted. And I agreed.
It was something I enjoyed doing and I had the time.
At the same time, the men's transitional home we'd been ministering in was about to embark on a new journey with a women's campus. Would we be interested in helping there as well?
Their program is a 9-month Christian transitional home for men (and now women in a separate campus) who are recovering from alcohol or drug problems as they re-enter society through the workforce by living and working in a controlled living environment with graduating levels of privileges until their graduation.
Having already grown close to the founders, we were happy to help. I could write curriculum for the women; I was already writing 6-7 hours a day. Not so coincidentally, I'd pursued a PhD in curriculum and instruction before we moved from Oklahoma to Mississippi, so this would be my way of "doing something" with a degree I was unable to complete.
Two months into my writing for women I'd yet to meet, I felt a strange stirring within. It wasn't as strange as it was scary. I couldn't make a ministry mistake again so I didn't immediately acknowledge it. I toe-tested the water.
Committing only to helping out from time to time, we discussed policies and procedures and plans and growth and problems unique to women. I kept writing, devising a binder of self-study devotions and program rules.
When the binder was 90% complete, I received a call.
"We're interviewing Program Directors this week," they said. "We'd like for you to be a part of this process and to help whoever we hire."
That stirring inside went into full-blown blender mode. No, I realized, the Lord has had this for me the whole time. I just didn't trust that feeling until now. But do I want to commit?
"I'd like to do it myself, " I surprised us all by saying just three days later. "And I don't need a salary."
The last statement might've been shocking to them, but my husband understood.
As a young woman I'd wanted to go see a popular Christian speaker at my home church. Everyone was talking about it and it was a big draw for our town. But with four young kids, I couldn't afford the $35 ticket price.
I made a vow to the Lord right then. If He ever used me, I would not take a dime.
I've still held true to that promise.
We don't take a salary for the church or the ministry. The Lord provided by allowing us to manage a company owned by our associate pastor, a business that quadrupled its business when the proceeds began being used to further the gospel. I can work from home or on the road, taking orders and sending invoices. It is something I enjoy doing and not at all time-consuming.
It has been a true example of Where God Guides, He Provides. (Thank you, Jenni, for reminding me of that early on.)
Once the commitment was made, we went full-force. I met the girls and started working on individual plans. My review committee meeting reminded me that transitional homes fall under homeless status.
My fig tree had life.
It turns out that something I thought was dead wasn't dead after all. I had been so focused on one dead branch that I didn't realize I was no longer looking at the whole tree.
My tree may have withered and fallen over, but it had a strong root.
And like the wild grass that peppers our church lawn, it may have bent over to the point where it looked like it had been cut, but all it took was a good rain to pop back up.
I'm excited for this new journey in my life.
It is new in many ways, but it's also a continuation of what the Lord started three years ago.
I'm excited to see where it goes.
I will continue to periodically share posts relating to the homeless ministry on this blog but I am mostly focusing on the new blog: www.askgigielizabeth.blogspot.com Feel free to follow both!
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