The Unhinged Servant - Part 2

My understanding and experience with worship over the past week has me firmly convinced that worship is not limited to church buildings. Nor is it limited to musical talent. It is an all the time, everywhere part of life that allows our spirits the freedom they so crave. That said, I've included two songs I've been worshiping Papa with, and I find them very relevant to this post. Let your spirits soar, friends. (Some will be initially repelled by the first video. Please get over it and listen anyway.)

Part 2: Battle For Eye

Several months ago, my friends got together for one of our last Bible studies at The Yellow House. Over hookah and snack food, we opened our Bibles and talked about our lives. We were in the thick of Acts, which led to a conversation about spiritual gifts. I was going through a phase of breaking, inhaling, growing and breaking again and again (Dan Smith, "David De La Hoz," featured above). I shared my experience filling out spiritual gifting questionnaires (From Part 1), and said "I saw Service as a gift, knew I should mark it, and specifically chose not to. And still, though I understand the value of the gift, and I'm pretty sure I have it... I'm fighting it tooth and nail."

My roommate's dad, Dave, was there. He is one of the few adults I trust to share an open, Bible focused discussion with. In response, he said, "There are three lists of gifts in the Bible. Service is on the list of gifts given directly from Father God. If you're fighting that, you're fighting God."

"No wonder," I said. And was silent the rest of the night, pondering the implications of his statement. (Ok, silent is a drastic overstatement. But the pondering has continued ever since."

Service is a gift directly from Father God. If you, like me, are in the service industry, you are in position to move under open heaven. You are in position to commune directly with Papa God, all day long. You are in position to co-labor with the God of all creation, and significantly impact lives.

What's missing from this ministry opportunity? Not a thing my friends. Ready and willing hearts are all Papa needs.

You may feel mad. Used. Overworked, underpaid. Looked down on. Undervalued. Like no matter how friendly you act and how broad you smile, your tips are shit. [If you haven't read Part One, now would be an exceptional time to do so.]

You are ok.

Christ lived to serve, and was spit on, kicked, tortured and scorned in return. You are in good company.
Not all people are in the state of mind or spirit to receive your service gift. Many expect you to serve them; they're paying you after all. Many don't respond when you ask how they're doing, and most certainly don't ask how you're doing.

You are ok.
Your ability to walk in the gift of service, to serve in Christ's image, is not dependent on others' ability to receive that gift.

Givers 1.2 - To Walmart, and Beyond!

Provision is hard for me to ask for. Hard for me to expect. Because I fear. Fear that I'm being greedy, or prideful, or unworthy or lazy. But I am learning to trust Papa with my needs. I'm learning the importance of receiving as well as giving. That provision isn't just about money, food, and the various physical needs I tend to focus on (though Papa wants us to trust him with these). Our spirits need communion with Papa, and with people. Need to worship, to serve, to love and share. Here's a story about provision beyond the physical.

Givers 1.3 - To Walmart, and Beyond!

Jeremiah and I don't frequent Walmart often. The whole environment kind of freaks us out, to be honest. But on this day, we bit the bullet and made a trip. We needed the cheapest possible white t-shirts to decorate, and Walmart was our last hope.

We squinted under the florescent lights and made a beeline for the men's underwear section. Our mission: packaged undershirts.

We found our bounty, hastily decided on the package that contained the most for the least, plucked one pack of each size, and made another beeline for the register.

One register was separated from a cluster of open registers and a crowd of people. Twenty or so unused registers buffered us from the commotion. Our relief was immense as we stepped into line behind the man being rung up.

The woman checking and bagging products looked to be in her 30s. Short, curly, dishwater blond hair. Nothing stood out about her, except the expression of misery on her face. I was slightly offended by her poor customer service. She didn't say a word to the man ahead of us, except to inform him of his total. She didn't smile. She hardly looked up. The man rolled his eyes slightly and left without comment.

Before I could decide how to respond to this woman's attitude, I heard Jeremiah say "Hello, how's your day going?" His words were bright and sincere. Even my frustration dissolved into an honest desire to hear her response.

"Not well." She said quiet but firm.

"I'm really sorry to hear that," Jeremiah said. "Would you like to talk about it? I'd be happy to listen."

She looked at him for a moment, her eyes welling with tears. After a deep breath she said, "My best friend died a couple days ago. I just, I loved her so much. The police are opening an investigation for murder. I'm just so heartbroken."

Jeremiah and I glanced behind us. No one was in line. "Since there's no one waiting, would you be ok with some prayer?" I asked.

"Absolutely. And it wouldn't matter if there was a line," she said. Strength was returning to her voice already.

"We would like to lay hands, if your comfortable with that," Jeremiah offered. She was, noting that she was Seventh-Day Adventist (I think this was to suggest that laying hands was familiar to her, but I don't know much about Adventists.) With a quick peak at her name tag, he confirmed her name. "It's Susan, right?" We clasped hands across the counter, and prayed for several minutes. Someone walked up and paused in our line briefly, but decided better of it and walked away quietly.

Several tears and goosebumps later, we looked up at each other with relaxed lips and blushed cheeks. Susan walked around her register hugged us both. "Thank you brother, thank you sister," she said in turn. "God always knows exactly what we need before we even ask." We hugged again, and waved each other away with blessings.

Fleshbook Facelift

I have been on the verge of deactivating my Facebook account. If I weren't in the midst of some awesome conversations, I would do so. A series of reasons have urged me to keep it. Contact with distant friends and family. The teaching, revelation and conversation I get from the friendships I've found there (Click here for some examples).

Recently the desire to deactivate has been growing. And I've started telling myself to keep it, if only to promote my blog. Papa has spoken to me directly, three times now, on the issue of self-promotion. First was a suggestion to stop checking my page views. I get curious. I want to know if people are reading. I get motivated to write more when I see people are reading more. And therein lies the heart of Papa's suggestion, I believe. I don't ever want to alter my content in order to gain or maintain viewership. This is the same as a pastor altering her message to please (sometimes conversely, to chasten) her congregation, a reason I've quit following teachings in the past.

The second time was to reveal to me the issue I was facing, because I hadn't been aware of an issue at all. I knew what I didn't want to do - cater to crowds at the expense of truth and honesty - and figured that was enough to prevent myself from doing it. What I didn't realize is I was laying the groundwork to do just that, and could very well wind up on a soapbox I didn't know I'd built.

Why aren't you checking your pageviews? Papa asked.

I am trusting that if anyone will benefit from my writing, Papa, you will provide them with it.

I do not need to promote myself. Doing so is an act of mistrust. (Personal revelation, with various factors contributing. I don't suggest this is the case for everyone!)

When I allow my writing to be altered by fear of a negative reaction from a reader, even for a brief moment, I am allowing pride, doubt, vanity, and a host of other demonic forces to influence me. Not good. Not my goal. The third time Papa spoke was today, through the following Fleshbook post from Praying Medic. For me, it was confirmation that I can trust Papa with this blog. I do not need to self-promote. Papa is my provider. He will provide for both reader and writer. This is good news, because it speaks into a slew of other areas in my life. (It also confirms several aspects of our conversation that would simply be a repeat of Medic's note were I to share. But dang, this is  a good note.)

Givers 1.1 - By Needle and Ink.

I want to discuss giving. I believe the act of giving is an inherent trait of our identities in Christ. Christ is the embodiment of perfect theology, and he made giving a major component of his Earthly ministry. Love and selfishness do not go hand in hand. A selfless heart hoards nothing.

Before I can really get at my thoughts on giving, I need to share some stories about provision. Miracles in their own rights, these stories demonstrate the giving character of Papa. They should help to set the mood, energy, spirit feel, mojo, feng shui, whatever, for our giving chat.


Givers 1.1
Divine Provision by needle and ink.

Winter wanted a tattoo.

After stepping out of the workforce for several months (and thriving, I might add), she hadn't had extra pocket cash for anything more than essentials. Let alone a tattoo.

Winter, Rabbits, And Special Agent Dale Cooper.
Photo by: Winter Rain X 

"Connect me with an opportunity to get a tattoo," she asked God one day.

Shortly thereafter, she and her boyfriend Esa took their dog Cooper to the vet for vaccinations and a checkup. It was not a stress free experience. The appointment was made by Esa's mom without their foreknowledge. For fear of backlash from the doctor, they declared Cooper a German Shepherd Mix. Winter was feeling less that comfortable, and wanted little more than to bail on the entire operation.

"German Shepherd, huh?" The veterinarian raised her brows while looking over Cooper's charts. "I'm going to go check with doctor and make sure these vaccines aren't going to be harmful for her."

When Ms. Vet returned, Winter decided Cooper's health was too important for secrecy. "She's a hybrid wolf, not a german shepherd," she confessed.

The Unhinged Servant - Part 1

Part 1: Self Interest 

Service is a gift directly from Papa (see Romans 12). Service is also an industry.

A fucked up, demon ridden industry that I thank Pops daily (now that I've had time to reflect on the situation) for the opportunity to infiltrate and destroy from the inside.

I am uncomfortable being paid to serve. I am uncomfortable being expected to serve. I'd really much rather spend my time doing pretty much anything else.

I write this as a servant of Papa God. A begrudging servant, at best. A cog in the machine that is the service industry. A burnt out cog in need of a spit polish.

I write this for the encouragement of my fellow servants, as well as my own encouragement. And whether you know it or not, if you're reading this you carry the gift of service (so this is for you, too).

I pledge my hands to larger service,
and Heavenly Doughnuts. 

About three years ago, I was discovering that Papa God is not a collection of bullshit fantasy fiction wrapped and bound in the pages of a book called Bible. Rather, as He's continued to reveal Himself to me, He's a loving, nurturing, living badass who heals, raises the dead, multiplies food, teleports people, and otherwise defies the laws of physics we tend to submit ourselves to. And those bullshit stories, well they keep ringing true. I see them happen with my own eyes.

With this new perspective, and after watching the documentary Finger of God several times, I decided I  seriously wanted to go to Africa and learn with Heidi and Roland Baker at Iris Ministries. I diligently perused the Iris Ministries website, found an application for their ministry school, and set to filling it out.

The application included a list of spiritual gifts, with a prompt to check off all that apply. I'd never seen such a list, and had no idea if I was worthy to check off any. Sure, I want the gift of healing, of prophesy, leadership, miracles (here's a useful link if you're unfamiliar with the gifts I'm talking about). Those are awesome. Frack yes.

But can I actually do these things? I asked Papa. And he nudged me to check off a few. Service was one. I chose not to check it.