What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger

Tempering… 

Definition:

1. To mix clay with water or a modifier (grog) and knead (wedge) to a uniformmixture.

2.  To harden (as steel) by reheating and cooling in oil.

I woke up in the middle of the night a few days ago with this word on my mind.  The examples I immediately thought of were tempering steel and clay.

As I thought of the word, it became apparent that the last 13 years of my life had been an exercise in tempering, but the first two definitions were not the most accurate me, the one that really fits is one of the last definitions in the Merrian-Webster Dictionary, “ to make stronger or more resilient through hardship, toughen.”

Starting in 1999, I entered full-time ministry with my mother, first as part of a non-profit that provided food and clothing directly to the poor and to other ministries in the Los Angeles area and then December 24, 2000, we started “Agape Love Fellowship International Church in south Los Angeles and the ministry was extended to include street evangelism, a support group, bible study and Sunday Worship services.

In the process of doing this we, my mother and I, lost everything we own… a couple of times, but I remained faithful to the ministry until December 24, 2006, when my mother fell ill and I began to realize that many of the people we were ministering to, and our “home church” (and I use that term loosely) really didn’t have our best interests at heart.

My mother fell ill with a viral infection after my former pastor ordered her to leave the house we shared with another minister, knowing we had no place else to go, and didn’t offer alternative lodging.  We stayed in our car the winter of 2006 and that’s when she became sick.  She went to the hospital and was prescribed an overdose of antibiotics, which in turn caused  Clostridium difficile, also known as C. diff, which is a severe inflammation of the colon, often resulting from eradication of the normal gut flora by antibiotics.^[3]

During her stay in the hospital, several of the members of our home church paid a visit, but our pastor never called or came by.  My mother wasn’t even put on the prayer list until she was released from the hospital 11 day later.  Considering my mother had served as a pastor, evangelist and intercessor at that church for over 10 years, I believe that this was a travesty, and should have been a signal to her to leave.  Members were still calling and asking her for prayer while she was in the hospital, too sick and too weak to walk, and yet when she was in her hour of need, the church as a whole was no help to her.

I tried my best to get my mother to leave that place, but she chose not to and to this day is still a member.  She has continued to go through trial after trial and I yet she remains, but this experience change me forever.  I began to realize it isn’t just the fact that you serve the Lord that’s important; it’s the people you serve with.  I had already severed all ties with that church before my mother’s illness, but her refusal to separate herself from that place after the illness caused me to sever ties from my mother’s church as well.  I knew it was time to go my own way.

When I moved to Chicago in the summer of 2007, I was in need of a change and completely disillusioned.  I needed to be in a place that wasn’t so  hostile… where I could feel the love of family… where I could heal.  I needed “home”… but can you really ever go “home” again?

Well, suffice it to say that “home” wasn’t exactly the way I envisioned it, but it was a real education.  I’ve written about some of my experiences there in earlier blog posts… being hit by a car while walking across the street… the estrangement with my father and other members of my family…  my experience teaching… it wasn’t exactly the welcome I was hoping for, but I did learn how to manage myself.  I developed “equipoise”, a much needed state of equilibrium that taught me how to counter the extremes of that city, the experiences I’d had in the last 13 years of my life and the extremes in my faith… the differences between what the word of God says and the what I had experienced in today’s “New and Improved” Christianity.  In this very hostile environment, I found MY faith… my very own tried and true faith that has sustained me and has indeed, made me stronger.

At the beginning of this post, I defined “tempering” as, “to make stronger or more resilient through hardship, toughen.”  I can see with all certainty that I have been tempered.  What did not kill me, has indeed made me stronger and I will “I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:14)

What I'm Thankful For...

While going through some old writings, I ran across a journal entry I wrote a couple of years ago. The entry addressed some of the challenges I faced in Chicago, and my deep appreciation for the people of that... my city. I can't express how deeply I love that place, even though I almost died there. I was hit by a car there and developed enlarged heart, just from the stress of being there, but it will always have special place in my heart.

Chicago is an amazing place... a place of extremes. Good and evil, beauty and decay, order and corruption. And on a good day, no city in this country shines more, but it's people are its real treasure. Amongst all the evil and corruption, people still find the courage to try and protect what good they find. People still attempt to protect those who do them good, who show them compassion and who speak the truth.

This entry was written May 31, 2009, after being hit and the enlarged heart and a number of other things but on this Thankgiving Day, the sentiments in this entry are just as true today and they were two years ago. And it is what I am most thankful for today:

Well... it's Sunday again! And for the first time in a long time, I'm not depressed about it. I've actually had a good Sunday. I woke up this morning and had my worship. It started in an unusual way, but I went there after all. I was able to worship and that means more to me than anything! It's such an important part of my life... of most people's lives actually, but many don't know it. I can't imagine anyone wanting to live without it. It gives me peace and joy and gives my life meaning.

I also finished “In Hanuman's Hands”... finally! I think what took me so long was all of the drug stuff. Sounds funny since without it, his story wouldn't have made as much sense, but it was so depressing, some days I just had to put it down and read something else. I eventually finished it because I loved to hear him speak about Hanuman. I look at the way Hanuman was with Cheeni, how long-suffering he was, and I know that's just like God. That's real love, but he always honored his will. Hanuman never left his side, always instructing and guiding gently, never overbearing. That's what I love about God. How could you not love Him when he takes so much care with you. When the one who holds heaven and earth in His hands, who created the moon and the stars and still takes time to come see about you... because He first loved you!

For me, it wasn't drugs, it was loneliness. Having been alone all of my life as an only child, I always longed to have someone who wouldn't leave me... that I actually wanted to stay. I went through periods when I thought that I would find an end to that loneliness with people, and for a short period of time I did with Kevin. But then we broke up and He died, and I was alone again, or so I thought. When I finally began to seek God for my peace and solace, for my comfort, I felt complete for the first time in my life. There's something so wonderful about worship and prayer, it just blesses the person worshiping so much, that I just can't see why anyone would want to live without it! I know I keep saying that, but it's just the truth. I begin to cry every time I say it cause it means so much to me. The tears are my hearts offering to God for being there with me and for me... always. I needed to know that no person could satisfy the longing that was in my heart so that I would seek God and truly know the love of my life. Jesus, I will praise you always for giving me that gift. I cherish it always and forever more.

Now, you might be wondering about the paradox I've gotten myself in. The one where I see the similarities between Hanuman and Christ and to be honest, I'm wondering about that one myself. I believe God transcends culture. Christ taught that but no one in church seems to be able to grasp this. He (Christ) was never interested in making people adopt a culture, it was always about faith in Him and the belief that God loves them. Why the church seems to need to strong-arm people into believing as they do is beyond me. Jesus never did. If Christ is supposed to be in them, then why don't they behave like Christ? This is the question that really tugs at my heart and is causing me to look at other things. I know that if people of other faiths hadn't prayed for me, and I know they have, I would not be here now. I wouldn't have made it these past two years in Chicago. I can't ignore or forget that and I thank them for their love, in the truest since of the word, that they've shown me. I bless them for listening to God's voice, and having mercy to look out for me. God will not forget their labor of love. I know they may have had other reasons for being there and looking out for me, but their acts of compassion have taught me so much, about this city, the people in it and that with all the evil that's here, God is here too and the mercy and the love that they've shown me, God will give back to them a hundred fold. You can't beat God giving.

Tweet

As Our Worship Goes... So Goes Our Work

Well, I went to church on Sunday for Easter Service, and it was really interesting. At first, I was a little afraid. Afraid of seeing my former pastor again, since the last time I saw the pastor, it really wasn't all that great, however, it really wasn't that bad. I was shocked at how dead the service was. The praise team started with joy, at least a little, but ended on a real sour note. The service never took off at all and I was really very disappointed. The pastor's message was off, I was really shocked. It looks like I left that church at just the right time. The soloist was ok, but just ok. The way I heard others rave about how good they were, I was shocked to see just how mediocre they were. Their voice was strained, they didn't know how to use the mic (how to move it back and forth from the mouth to control how forcefully their voice came across) it was just really sad to see how bad it was. More importantly, there was no feeling behind the words. Sometimes that's actually more important than the persons ability. The pastor's attempt at preaching was dismal at best, and I'm not talking about their delivery. It was the point she was trying to get across... there wasn't a clear one. The point was convoluted... AND the delivery was choppy as the pastor stumbled over words and at times laughed nervously. It was a real train wreck.

Now my reason for bringing this up and writing about it was to make a greater comment on the state of the church as a whole. What I saw at my former church On Easter Sunday (Resurrection Sunday to some) is pretty much indicative of what I've seen in the church as a whole today. I've been to several churches, in several states, and seen the same thing repeatedly. As the quality of worship and teaching diminishes, so does the ability and expectations of its congregants.

I believe that there is a direct correlation between the intensity and quality of the worship/word we experience in our spiritual lives, and the intensity and quality of the work we produce in our daily lives. Both require passion. One cannot produce anything of value without it. It saddens me to see leaders in the Body intentionally leading their congregants to less passionate, and sometimes downright depressing worship and understanding of the word. Life is depressing enough. We need our worship to transcend the evil and mundane nature of this life. To shed the “grave clothes” of humanity and come into the presence of our Heavenly Father and enter into “His courts with praise.” Not doing so diminishes every aspect of our lives.

Instead today we see the church becoming stratified... by denomination, by class, by race, by gender and a host of other variables that have absolutely nothing to do with God. The Easter service I attended reminded me of what my students in Chicago talked about when they would report to me on Monday morning, what had gone on in their Sunday services. The inaccuracy of the teaching they received, or in some cases the lack of teaching all together. It was very disheartening to see, especially as the behavior of the students became more and more erratic. It seemed the greater the need for good teaching, the worse it got.

As I looked and listened to the pastor struggle to try to pull together a sermon, and the praise team struggle with the only job they have, to lead the congregation into worship, I began to see that my leaving my former church was the best thing I could have done. I DID “obey the prophet”, by that I mean the visiting Apostle, when I stopped attending that church. That I would be just as empty and hollow as many in that church have become... with a form of godliness, but without any of the power thereof, if I had stayed.

I thank God that He communicates with His people. That If we listen and obey, we will always be prepared for what is to come. That He prepares all those that He calls... even when we don't know it. That if we listen to that “still small voice” and move in faith, we will always be where we need to be, when we need to be there and equipped to do what we need to do, no matter how unqualified we (and the rest of the world for that matter) think we are.

Tweet