Waiting on God

I've been working on The River since June, but really since April, when the first Bible study began. But really, I've been working on it for years, because God has been sending the concepts and ideas to me for years. So while I've only been on the payroll since June, it has really been years of work. And Sunday is the first Cluster gathering.

It is difficult to not say "Sunday is the day I find out if it will all work or not." It's been difficult to recognize Sunday for what it is: one step on a much bigger journey. A different step, a new step, the first of many (hopefully) steps like it, but just one step nonetheless. It is difficult to keep Sunday in perspective because tangible results have been hard to come by. Is my labor bearing fruit? Is God's reign growing? Is the Holy Spirit working through me to come to people in life-changing ways? Or am I just drinking a lot of coffee and hanging out and not accomplishing much of anything? It is very, very tempting to use this Sunday as a barometer of how well things are going so far.

Reality, though, is that Sunday won't really tell me, and that it's not my job to know anyway. My job is to listen to God, do what I'm told by God, and then wait for God to let me know how I'm doing. I don't know what shape that sign will take. It could happen Sunday, or after Monday I could have more questions than I did on Saturday. I just don't know how I will know how much fruit this is bearing, or even if I will know.

What I do know is that it's not me doing the work: it's God. It's not up to me to determine what 'success' is: it's God. And therefore it's not my place to know if I'm succeeding or not: it is merely my place to follow, and to trust that God is doing what God wants. That takes the pressure off in some ways, but it means a lot of waiting, a lot of not knowing, and a lot of trust. That can be hard when this is how your family eats and keeps a roof over their head, and if it fails then the paychecks stop coming.

But I am trying, because I believe the promises God has made. I believe the words of Matthew 6:25-33, and I am striving for the reign of God above all things. What I struggle with is not knowing whether that striving is going anywhere. But since it's not my place, I work, and I pray, and I trust, and I hope that someday God will bless me with a glimpse of how this is going. Maybe that will be Sunday, but I'm working very hard to not get my hopes up for an answer, and to just let it be what God wants it to be. Because that is what it needs to be- nothing more, and nothing less.

The sheep and the goats, but mostly the goats

Our family loves festivals. This past Saturday, we went to one that had a small petting zoo. In one pen were seven or eight goats and one sheep. For no apparent reason, the goats were almost constantly head-butting each other. They'd headbutt each other (and the poor sheep) in the head, in the side, in the rump, anywhere. For apparently no reason. They seemed to like headbutting others, but didn't seem to enjoy being headbutted themselves. But they just kept on doing it, over and over, and showed no signs of letting up when we left.

I imagine that might be how God looks at many of the things we do to each other. That God sees the ways and the reasons we hurt other people and knows it is nothing but a pointless, meaningless headbutt. And we keep doing it, over and over. We usually think our reasons matter, that they are justified somehow, someway. I expect that God, they are pointless headbutts, and we look like dumb goats.

I admit it: I'm a goat. The good news is that in Jesus Christ, God became a goat, and through Jesus God forgives us for all those headbutts we give others, and forgives others for the headbutts they give us. But that doesn't take away all the headaches my pointless headbutts have caused. So I'm going to think about that the next time I'm about to headbutt someone, and with God's help I'll be able to keep my head to myself.

Authentic community

On Labor Day we had a cookout in my cul-de-sac (that's French, btw...impressed?). We've lived there 5 years and barely spent any time with most of our neighbors, so 7 out of the 8 families came down and we grilled and hung out. Everyone seemed to really enjoy the chance to get to know each other, and the 8th family, who were at a wedding in Sweden, were disappointed that they missed it. It was just food and social time. No program. No agenda. No silly mixer games or nametags. Heck, I barely even spoke to some of them, and I know that exchanging names and a handshake was the extent of several relationships.

Despite that lack of direct interaction, when we went for a walk last night, I looked around my cul-de-sac and no longer felt surrounded by strangers. I felt a connection to these people. I felt like I belonged, and that they belonged. We shared an experience, we connected, I felt like I belonged, and it felt good and right and natural. It wasn't "in my face," it just felt right.

My program background did try to rear it's ugly head. There were times where the conversation died, one of those quiet moments that, if this were a church event a few months ago, would have probably led me to immediately start thinking "nobody is having fun...this is a flop!" But in the past few months, I've learned a few things about community, so I buried that thought and swallowed my impulse to fill that time by opening my big mouth and trying to make sure everyone was having fun. Instead, I just sat there. And before too long, things picked up again and folks were talking again. And it happened naturally, without me getting my anxiety all over everyone and spoiling it.

The anxious desire for success poisons relationships by inhibiting people's ability to connect in authentic ways. It has caused me (and I'm sure other leaders) to overfunction and try and control the ways people connect. What is for me one of the hardest parts of The River is also one of the most important: freeing people connect to God and to others on their own rather than have me do it for them. It's hard, but I believe it is the only way to create an authentic community where anyone can feel comfortable.

So please pray for me to bite my tongue. And please also pray it doesn't hurt too much!