1 year later 2 months ago

Well. It's only been a yearish since the last post. I'm ready to crack this open. I think.

The last post was written with toes over the edge of our first prelaunch service which happened one block from Church Street, down the stairs to the FlynnSpace theater. For as much as I have seen in the two years we've been here, these two places are the cultural definitions of Burlington.

I cannot describe the night. I cannot believe I didn't turn inside out. It was surreal. I felt like a rock star, a little kid, myself and someone else all at the same time. I felt like God's hand was so heavy on my head and shoulders and heart that it was almost crushing, yet I know it was the only thing that made one foot continue to step in front of the other.

My girls were there. Cute as anything. Excited. Running around. Dancing on the stage. They ate in the green room. Twirled in the full length mirrors that super stars (small s) have twirled in. They played with their friends and my gift from God, Ms. Sue. They were there. It's part of their story. They are part of the story of Stand. That's priceless to me.

I still can't find the words to articulate what it felt like (feels like) to have people invest in the vision and passion of this ministry. Our friends here were literally hand-picked by God. He shared the plan with them before we did. He pierced their hearts and set their feet on the same narrow path he mapped for us. And there they were, doing things I hadn't thought of, doing them better than I ever could. They made the service happen so I could actually BE there.

I watched my husband load in, rehearse, lead worship and open the door God built.  Jesus' love and power would be available to anyone who came that night and every time we meet. We actually lived the inception of our dream.

There were 32 people there. People who don't know Jesus well enough to be in love with him yet. It was amazing.

It was overwhelming.

We had a month before we had to do it again. That was not much time.

Vermont is perceived as this magical, fall-colored syrupy-sweet place. Underneath it's steeped in a dark spiritual heritage. It's well-versed in keeping things quiet and solitary. It's the perfect place for God to set up camp. That called for a fight. It took about two seconds for me to feel like I was managing an impossible balancing act in my mind and soul. I couldn't believe how much time had passed in an instant. Summer ended. We were ready for our official launch.

God did the miraculous and we were welcomed onto the UVM campus to have weekly meetings in the Billings Library. We promoted as Loud. Caffeinated. Church. We set up an impressive smorgasbord of free candy, sodas, Monsters and Red Bull. We'd go into the rooms where students were studying and invite them to come get sustenance - nothing makes a study session as effective as a Monster and Sour Patch Kids. They came. We got to tell them why we were there - no strings. We got to BE the church every week.

At Christmas we had Keurig hot chocolate and cookies - a lot of cookies. Students came and one guy was insulted that I didn't remember him. He'd been "coming to our church" all semester. We'd talked. I'd listened. I knew about his upcoming test. I blamed it on his beanie and scarf. I swear I had no idea we were part of the same church family.  Here's what I learned: there is no preconceived need for church here. There is little to no understanding of church to so many. They have no idea what it means to me when I say I'm a pastor, a Christian. This was his church - all he'd ever known or experienced. Some sugar and caffeine were a means to be heard and considered and remembered (I recovered well - darn beanie). That's now what he knows church to be. He never sat through a service. But he felt connected because every week we got to BE church and just love on those students. I pray for more for him. I'm ok with the way the seed was planted and watered with Monsters.

I text almost every week with students who don't sit in on the service. But they are learning what church is, who God is. All they know is that I'm available. I remember their tests. I laugh and cry and continue to do so no matter what they tell me. They say, "I'm so glad you're my pastors." ??? I get it now. It's weird. Well, it was. It's Vermont. Which is now us - the magical syrupy parts. It's how we're having church. By being church. It can't be about the building or the numbers when you don't have either. That will change. We will grow but not until it'll never be about the building or the numbers.

That's the long story short. Some weeks we think we've arrived. Many others we are disappointed that the seats aren't filled. I finally feel like I can write a few things and start to let the goings on of the past year start to filter out. The impossible balancing act I've been managing is equalizing just a skosh.

5 years later 2 days from now

There are days that Post-It to your brain and, like a good Post-It does, pop up in unexpected places to remind you about life. Some such days:

The first morning I woke up wearing my shiny new engagement ring... tingly!
The afternoon Jeremy and I sat on the bench at The District and heard, "Congratulations, you're pregnant!" (PS don't take calls like that in public. What a mess!)
The walk from the doctor's office to the car when I told my mom, "There's two in there!"
Carrying "the two" into our house, so tiny they were lost in their car seats, after 45 days in the NICU.

Have mercy...there are so many more! That's the sign of a blessed life. Thank you, God of Wonders for not giving up on me.

There's one more that popped up yesterday that has had me playing chicken with pure freaked out fear, insane happiness, awestruck wonder and Christmas morning excitement ever since.

It was a summer afternoon five years ago. Jeremy and I were planning summer camp for ONEministry and something started us dreaming. I was sitting in my cushy blue rocking chair, he was sitting on the floor in front of the couch. We had always talked about starting something new - a ministry from scratch. This day the dreaming went big. We talked about opening a coffee shop. We talked about how we would do church and sling coffee at the same time. We talked about how cool it would be to be that close to students who would love us and come sit in the shop every day and learn to love Jesus. We talked about how awesome it would be to have caffeine available all day long!

I remember feeling so full of excitement just daring to think it could ever happen and, in the same thought, feeling this crushing weight because it was so far away and there was so much between us and then...if there was ever even a then like that in our future.

I remember with perfect clarity hearing God's still small voice say that we were very good at dreaming about the future but it was time to start learning what to do with the next ten minutes. It was time to start being those people in the dream even without the dream to fuel us. I didn't love it. I just wanted to be the girl with the coffee shop, with the church filled with students who came as they were - messy and lovely and needing a Savior and meeting Him there with us. I hated putting down the dream to plod through my reality.

1 Corinthians 2:9 No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceive what God has prepared for those who love Him.

Fast forward...

It's Monday night. Wednesday night we have church. The church we dreamed about five years ago starts two days from now. It's the beginning of seeing that God-dream play out, not like it did in our heads but like it did in God's. What we laid down in our living room, and a hundred times after, so that we could plod through the next ten minutes is about to become our reality.

I'm so grateful, Lord. So in awe. So inspired to trust You with all the details that seem to be spinning out of our control. I can see it... and it's so much more magnificent than what we dreamed! The people alongside us are so far beyond who we deserve. But it's You they love. And you chose us... five years ago.

Five years from now, when we replay the next two days and the days that are coming when you open the coffee shop that is still part of this dream of Yours, we'll remember our little 200 year old house in Latrobe with the crooked floors and low ceilings where you first showed us the dream; we'll remember the most incredible youth kids who came there and to ONEcamps and to the Rave!; we'll remember Vegas and our first pink apartment and closet offices that we loved and The Fix that we miss; we'll remember our first year in Vermont that we waited through to get to June 15, 2011 and we'll lay it all down again for the next ten minutes.

If you have seen it, heard it, dreamed it...know that He will accomplish it.

 Were you there? 5 years ago...

...2 days from now

Rock A Baby

I love how as life gets more difficult, God gets simpler. I'm sure there's some spiritual equation at work in there - I just don't know it...yet. I should soon. I say it often enough.

Perhaps difficult isn't the right word...no, it is. But it's not necessarily a bad kind of difficult. It's just different difficult. Like when your kid's intellect grows faster than yours. Take, for example, today. My lovely little bit of sunshine Zoe Schultz came into her room giggling and left doing those convulsive gasps you get after a good long fit. Over putting her coloring mats away. When did she master belligerence (defined as aggressive or warlike behavior), and why don't I know how to parent that? How did she learn first?

I've heard a lot lately, do everything in love. I think Jesus said that too.

Even after we had our meeting of the minds, Zoe was all too grateful to get scooped up out of her bed and snuggle up with me to "rock a baby" - my 3 favorite words. "Mommy? You want to rock a baby?" Oh you know I do!

I've been asking God to rock a baby a lot these days. His response is always the same as mine. That's astounding to me.   

It's how He responds to everything I bring Him. You want to hear how great this was, God?
Oh You know I do! 
You want to hear how scared to death I am?
Oh you know I do?
You want to help me fix this...again?
Oh you know I do!
You want to...
Oh you know I do! Seems I hear the response before I even finish the question. His lap seems always ready. His love and concern and compassion are so genuine.

And that's what makes it so simple. Love. Concern. Compassion. Pair them up with the wisdom He promises and I'm pretty sure you've got it.