Thanks to you all who have prayed for our boss and friend Pete and the legal clinic over this past week. We have good news to report, and we ask for your continued prayers.
Two days ago, Pete and his wife Wendy found out that the treatment he will be needing should not be as invasive as they were expecting. The time in the hospital will also be cut in half. This is great news! I won't share the details here, but please continue to lift us up in prayer as we prepare for a full month of legal ministry in March, and then Pete's surgery at the end of the month. Please pray for a smooth surgery and uneventful recovery for Pete.
Thanks for your prayers
Sunday, February 10, 2013
A time for lament. The time leading up to my week at Duke's Center for Reconciliation was difficult for me, as I was still reeling from a shooting that happened on our block just a few weeks before. As a witness to the shooting (in which no one was, thankfully, hurt), I experienced shock, numbness, and confusion for some time. As I boarded the plane for Durham, I felt worn and tired from trying to process the hard questions that I needed to ask, like: what am I doing here? What does God want to show me through this? I felt deeply burdened by the hardships faced by residents on my block.
When I applied for the conference two months prior, I had thought that the time would be one of vision-casting and receiving direction for my life, as it pertained to the pursuit of God's heart for reconciliation. I was excited and expectant at the connections and plans God would lay. Instead, I found myself acknowledging after the first day's sessions that I felt completely burnt out. Oh no!
Has that ever happened to you? You enter something new with expectations that sparks will fly and that God will speak something so clearly and directly, that all of a sudden the different pieces that He has been moving in your heart and mind will click into one, clear Word from Him, but then, nothing tangible seems to materialize?
In hindsight, I can see that what did happen at Duke far outweighed my expectations. God did speak clearly to me, but in my cloud of mixed desires and expectations, it was difficult to discern.
Of all the themes explored at the conference, the dominant message for me came from day two, where we explored the meaning of Lament. Rev. Sarah Jobe, a prison chaplain, shared how her daily experiences of overwhelming sorrow and darkness threaten to make her heart hard. Lament is the antidote to a hardened, calloused heart, but it requires an intentional choice to keep our hearts soft toward God. It requires space to weep, mourn, and pray. At the other end of lament, we do experience hope, and resurrection.
This statue on Duke's campus called "Reconciliation: The Parable of the Prodigal Son" demonstrates both the hardened and the softened heart before God. The prodigal son, though he spurned his Father's name and ran off in disobedience, came back weeping and asking for forgiveness (pictured here). I spent a lot of time studying this statue one morning.
But the older son, despite the Father's pleading, stands with his arms crossed, remaining hardhearted towards them both. He, like his Father, had been hurt by the younger brother, but he held onto that hurt instead of opening himself to grace and compassion which come from above. As I gazed upon the statue, I didn't label myself as one son over the one, but I could see both of them in myself, and I knew that the message that morning about having a "soft heart" was for me.
God invited me into His presence that week, through quiet time, and through the compassionate ears of a few key people. As I look back at it now, I think I was being called to just kneel and lament in His presence, much like the younger brother in this statue, and to receive grace for myself. I didn't need to "figure out" what God was doing or where He was taking me in terms of my spiritual direction. I just needed to be.
When I applied for the conference two months prior, I had thought that the time would be one of vision-casting and receiving direction for my life, as it pertained to the pursuit of God's heart for reconciliation. I was excited and expectant at the connections and plans God would lay. Instead, I found myself acknowledging after the first day's sessions that I felt completely burnt out. Oh no!
Has that ever happened to you? You enter something new with expectations that sparks will fly and that God will speak something so clearly and directly, that all of a sudden the different pieces that He has been moving in your heart and mind will click into one, clear Word from Him, but then, nothing tangible seems to materialize?
In hindsight, I can see that what did happen at Duke far outweighed my expectations. God did speak clearly to me, but in my cloud of mixed desires and expectations, it was difficult to discern.
Of all the themes explored at the conference, the dominant message for me came from day two, where we explored the meaning of Lament. Rev. Sarah Jobe, a prison chaplain, shared how her daily experiences of overwhelming sorrow and darkness threaten to make her heart hard. Lament is the antidote to a hardened, calloused heart, but it requires an intentional choice to keep our hearts soft toward God. It requires space to weep, mourn, and pray. At the other end of lament, we do experience hope, and resurrection.
This statue on Duke's campus called "Reconciliation: The Parable of the Prodigal Son" demonstrates both the hardened and the softened heart before God. The prodigal son, though he spurned his Father's name and ran off in disobedience, came back weeping and asking for forgiveness (pictured here). I spent a lot of time studying this statue one morning.
But the older son, despite the Father's pleading, stands with his arms crossed, remaining hardhearted towards them both. He, like his Father, had been hurt by the younger brother, but he held onto that hurt instead of opening himself to grace and compassion which come from above. As I gazed upon the statue, I didn't label myself as one son over the one, but I could see both of them in myself, and I knew that the message that morning about having a "soft heart" was for me.
God invited me into His presence that week, through quiet time, and through the compassionate ears of a few key people. As I look back at it now, I think I was being called to just kneel and lament in His presence, much like the younger brother in this statue, and to receive grace for myself. I didn't need to "figure out" what God was doing or where He was taking me in terms of my spiritual direction. I just needed to be.
Gorgeous spaces for reflection at Duke
Monday, February 4, 2013
Imagine sitting by a warm fireplace, on a comfortable couch, with a journal and Bible in hand, looking out at a scene like this one. This comprised at least half of my day at CLCP's first staff retreat, which took place last Monday. I'd like to share with you excerpts from our director's recap of that day. In it, you'll find ways you can be praying for us (highlighting in particular the fourth paragraph below):
Dear CLCP board,
I wanted to report to you on what came out of our staff retreat, and our extended time of prayer, reflection and fellowship. The legal ministry is God’s work and it is a work of the spirit. It will emerge from our life with God.
Our theme was “Nothing is Impossible with God.” We looked at Isaiah and how God cares so much about Justice and the Poor and how he showed his mercy even in judgment by providing the Jews and the world with a Messiah. Isaiah shows us how things are now, how they will be in the near future, how they will be when Christ comes, and what the heavenly kingdom will be like. So we can look at our world and realize there is more than we can see now. That is helpful when we look at how big the problems are that we are trying to deal with.
Wendy led us off with a lesson on loving as Jesus loved, and took us deep into John 17 and what it means to be one in Christ, to be one as He is with the father, that type of unity. We left feeling closer to that oneness, and if I could pick one thing that emerged from our time it’s that we want to build on that with our clinic attorneys.
We are concerned that we are lacking spiritually, on clinic day, which is our main event. That we come from work, all business, give advice, go home for dinner. And that what happens behind closed doors, in our clinic offices, could be better, for the attorney and the client. We’d like to encourage attorneys to come spiritually prepared, maybe even listening to a good tape or music on the ride down. We’d like to get attorneys there a half hour early, and have a good time of prayer and preparation that is inspiring and gives some food for thought, a transition from the work day. Have people praying for the clinic time, seeing it as a divine appointment, taking the time to minister effectively. Then afterwards, have a meal together and a time to debrief, right there at the clinic. And see the time spent as given to the Lord, even if clients end up not showing up. This will take some set up by us, and cooperation from the attorneys. We also need to constantly be incorporating new attorneys into this fellowship.
We talked about our spirituality. That’s not our vision, or our plan, or our procedures. It’s what we look and feel and sound and smell like. We are in the justice and reconciliation business. It’s a people business. Our goal is changed lives. We deal with poverty at its root – broken relationships, with God, family, employers, everyone and everything. That takes time. We need help from our community partners.
We talked about loving like Jesus loved, what that would look like. There is a humility and gentleness that is needed that may seem unlawyerly, and in some sense we need to give up something to get there. We are all so busy. It’s an enemy and obstacle to our work, which asks volunteers to donate time they don’t have. We need to model an unbusy lifestyle. “I have time for you. No, I’m not busy.” We value busyness, and we shouldn't.
We’d like to model an effective approach to sharing the gospel with our clients. We want to have non-Christian clients, and clinic attorneys. We need to struggle with the tension that will bring; it’s a good tension – not everyone will agree with us. A local pastor and friend asked Ted and me if we wanted to go with him to share the gospel to a friend’s son last Friday at 6 pm. I wish I had said yes and gone with him. I missed an opportunity....
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