Come and listen

As my grandfather clock chimes and painfully brings me aware of the hour, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air...I am reminded that I'm officially "back in school." And I'm sadly reminded that the 20-something procrastinating girl pursing a computer science degree is the same almost 30-something procrastinating girl pursing an urban youth ministry certificate, at least in the procrastination department. This is precisely why I'm pausing long enough to write this post. But in my defense...when God gives you something worth sharing...share...

God ministers to me through music. He'll lay a song on my heart...and I'll find myself compelled to play that single song on repeat during a particular phase/issue of my life. This might last a few days, it might last a few weeks. For whatever reason, when I sat down last night to dive into my schoolwork, Come and Listen by the David Crowder Band became the solitaire song that would march me through this round of studies. iTunes...repeat...the song faintly serenades me in the background.

"Come and listen...come to the water's edge all you who know and fear the Lord...come and listen...come to the water's edge all you who are thirsty...come....let me tell you what He has done for me...let me tell you what He has done for me...He has done for you...He has done for us."

I have heard those lyrics 100 times by now.

But in the midst of my studies...as I'm reading the assigned book, Deep Justice in a Broken World, I learn the common mistake youth ministries make as they try to inspire service among their youth. Often times they error on the side of guilt, by trying to inspire service through our responsibility to God. Other times they error on the side of grace...which has led youth to maintain status quo, feeling good about themselves, but taking little action to seek justice for others.

As I read a little further...I paused..."As kingdom followers, we don't right wrongs out of duty, or out of our destined-to-fail attempts to earn our salvation. We right wrongs because of all God has done for us."

Immediately the lyrics of the song playing in the background infiltrated the room..."He has done for me...He has done for you...He has done for us." In that moment it clicked. Why am I so in love with Jesus Christ? Why have I laid down my life to serve him...joyfully? Why do I want to right every wrong he places before me?

It's simple...because I know what He did for me...what He did for you...what He did for us. I know what He's still doing in me.

Fearing God

"The remarkable thing about fearing God is that when you fear God, you fear nothing else; whereas if you do not fear God, you fear everything else." Oswald Chambers, The Highest Good

Power of our testimony

A friend once told me the importance of capturing our faith walks and testimonies in written journals, for reading God's presence and answered prayers in our own lives could sometimes speak just as loudly as the Bible. But do I dare compare my own ramblings to the very word of God? Perhaps the better question is whether or not I dare to see the affect of God actually living in us?

I penned the ending to a very painful chapter of my life tonight. I imagine closing the cover of the book and placing it on a bookshelf. Here it will undoubtedly affect how the rest of the books will be written, but this book in particular no longer needs to be edited. For it will rest on the shelf, in its rightful place, and fulfill its obligation in the story.

That one hurt Lord. It really hurt.

To make sense of how all the pieces fell together, I pulled out my old journals and let them re-tell the story...I now had the ending for. But the girl in those journals, she didn't know how it would end. She didn't know one day it would be ok. I read as she struggled and questioned and cried, yet pursued a faith she didn't quite understand. HOPE I read as she surrendered. I read as she was healed. I read as she found unexpected purpose. FAITH

I wonder what she would think today, if she could read her own words, and understand they served a greater purpose. If she could see her own pain and bad choices, and the good which came from them. And then I wonder if she would understand how marvelously God planned to use her all along.

for in perfect faithfulness you have done marvelous things, things planned long ago. Isaiah 25:1

Finally, I wonder if she would know the power of the words of her testimony. It's God's story after all...she's just supposed to tell it.

That's My King!

People are not confused by the gospel...they're really not. People are confused by what we've done to the gospel...what we've attached to the gospel. When you actually meet the God of the Bible, our one true God...things start to make sense. You're blown away by His saving grace...His ability to use our brokenness...you are awe struck by the plans He has for YOUR life. You bask in His forgiveness...you are healed from your past...and relish in your new found future. When you actually meet our one true God...you find meaning...you discover purpose...you experience relationship...you redefine true love.

I think sadly our view of God has somehow been reduced to what we the people have reduced it too. He's weak, he's distant, he's unjustly judgmental, he's lame.

Quite frankly, I wouldn't serve a God like that...I really wouldn't. Why would I chase a faith that bored me? People often ask where my passion and zeal for the Lord comes from...to which I can only reply...do you know Him? I've always been a bit of an adrenaline/adventure junkie. Give me a cliff and I'll bail off it...take me to the ocean and I'll dive into it. Introduce me to an All Mighty, All Powerful, All Knowing, All Loving God...

and yeah...I'll follow Him...because that's my king!

I wonder...do know Him?

The Blue Note

I don't know much about jazz music. But I do know a man who walks the streets of Rock Island who is known as the "Jazz Man." He's been my icon of the streets since I started life in ministry. I see him and my whole heart smiles. I struck up a conversation with him in the grocery store one evening and he told me about his love of jazz music and asked me if I had heard of one of a hundred jazz musicians. Admittedly, I'd heard of none. I have no doubt he has forgotten more in his lifetime than I'll ever know.

No, I really don't know much about jazz music...but I'm learning the importance of giving voice to pain. Apparently there is something in jazz called the blue note, the flatted fifth. It is used to build tension in the music. It is used to give voice to pain.

Last night a few friends and I went to listen to the same artist, Andrew Landers, who ultimately inspired the bed project for the boys through his music. He's a simple man with an amazing talent...and a story to tell. From the adoption of his youngest blessings from West Africa...to him and his wife's efforts to fight for clean water around the globe, he struck a chord in my soul.

Apparently 1.1 billion people do not have clean drinking water on the planet, that is one in six of us. Mothers making the choice daily for their children...drink this water and die because it is unclean...or don't drink this water and die of thirst.

I don't know much about jazz music...but I'm pretty sure he must have found the blue note...giving voice to pain...

perhaps the first condition to healing.

The portrait of grace

Bringing awareness to a family in need...1 email.

Moving furniture and belongings...2 weekends.

Family of four...sleeping in beds last night...priceless.


One may never know the happenings behind the closed door of another, uncovering our need to pursue grace in place of judgment.

I know every day spent behind this mother's door is not perfect, for I have witnessed it first hand. But I've also witnessed my own far-from-perfect days...

so I choose grace.

For grace paints a simplistic and beautiful portrait. Grace paints an unexpected visit to the apartment and finds belongings put up...beds made...and a soft glow flickering from the mother's bedside dresser...as the candle releases traces of fall throughout the house.

Yes...I choose grace.

Thank you for your donations, thoughts and prayers! Know this family was blessed because of YOU.

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:27

Crying for the children

"I think we've come up with some beds...and I've got an overwhelming response from people who have other items they'd like to donate...is there anything else that you need?" She was reluctant to share her needs, but with some gentle prodding a simple list was built. She paused for a moment...and with a genuine, sincere voice she spoke..."thank you Brandy." How can I even begin to tell her that it has nothing to do with me?

I'm sorting through the responses I've already received for the beds. Your generosity has both touched and inspired me. Adding to their need, I'm also searching for dishes, silverware, dressers, couch/loveseat, TVs, lamps, blankets, sheets, pillows, etc. If you've already responded, I promise to get back to you. Thank you! If you'd still like to contribute, please drop me a line. I'm excited to believe we can have her place fully furnished in two weeks. Oh the joy this brings me! A deep and sincere thank you from the very bottom of my heart!

You have made a difference in the life of a child today!

A grandmother whom I'd never met before came into the center this afternoon. I know her family and love her grandkids. She enlightened me on some realities going on behind closed doors. She wept when I hugged her and told her that I would do what I could for those children. I took a deep breath and walked in to continue helping the teens with homework, like the conversation had never happened. But tonight, her words haunt my thoughts and weigh heavy on my heart. I'm left to wrestle with the question I often ask God...what can I possibly do?

A very good friend of mine recently returned home from a mission trip to New Zealand where he worked with inner-city youth on a film project. If there is one thing I've discovered in this ministry, it is the fact that a hurting child is a hurting child...regardless of what side of the state or ocean they live. He shared with me a poem, written by one of the students he ministered to...

Who cries for the children,
Who are standing in the rain,
Who will lend them comfort, who will feel their pain
Look upon their filthy hand,
Touch not the one badly bruised
Look into their fearful eyes
See the faces of those abused
Who cries for the children
Who feels their hurt and pain
Who gives them love and comfort
Who shelters them from the rain
Look upon their shattered lives
Feel the festering in their souls
Tell me who will lend their hand and lift them from their souls
Who will take a stand
Who will turn away in fright
Who will pretend they don't see the terrors that fill their night
Who will turn their backs
Who will refuse to see
Who will stand and say
These things just cannot be
Who cries for the children?
Who really will feel their pain?


Thank you for crying for these children. Thank you for feeling their pain.

The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' Matthew 25:40