burned

“The church is a whore, but she is my mother” - St. Augustine

My Basic Christian Doctrine professor promised us that we will get burned by the church. Especially for those of us going into ministry, whether a head pastor or youth pastor or working in missions. The church isn’t made up of the perfect suburb people. The church looks like this, like the family that I’ve been working with all summer. They are far from perfect, and so am I. And the issue is learning to work together. It hasn’t been easy. There have been days where I’ve been burned, when all I’ve wanted to do is run.

But you stick with it. Not for yourself, but because God calls us to be faithful. He’s been the most faithful to us broken down and sinful people, so why is it so hard for us to turn around and understand where the people we’re working with have come from? Why must we judge when we’re all the same in the end. We all need our faithful God. We also all need each other.

The church may burn me, but I couldn’t live without it.

a frybread hotdog

The countdown is 5 days and I saw tonight the things that I am going to miss the most from Arizona. It rained hard tonight and so as we butchered another sheep with the team and made frybread, everyone was gathered around either the fire or under the shade. There was a sense of real community that I’ve seen only a few times in my life. Why is it that community always happens around food?

Sarah was explaining tonight that we butcher for the community. It’s not about how they butcher (which is still culture-shock cool) but it’s all about the why. Normally, the Navajo would butcher when a family member came home from being away for a period of time. It was a welcoming home thing. It was about bringing people together for a celebration. The tradition is much like the story of the prodigal son. When he returns home, there’s a party.

They get it. There’s something different about living like the Navajo do that changes the way you view life and the idea of community. I know being here has changed me. I’m going to live differently when I go back. No more suburb life. I may be stuck there for a while, but I’m still going to make an effort to keep some Navajo ways of living that I’ve picked up. I want to “get it” too. I want that sense of family that comes with knowing Jesus and sharing good food.

And hopefully, we’ve left a small mark on them as well. Like tonight, when we wrapped a hotdog in frybread dough and fried it. It was excellent, and I’m thinking it might be something they won’t soon forget.

one more

It’s like that scene in Schindler’s list. At the end, he’s upset with himself for not saving one more. He thinks of all the things he could have sold to save one more, he thinks of all the things he could have done better.

I feel a little bit like that right now. I have 7 days left. I’ve been here over two months and time is slipping away so fast. And what could I have done better? Who is that one more that I could have impacted better? God sent me out here for a purpose. Did I fulfill it? Did I connect like I was supposed to? Have I learned what I needed to learn?

There’s unanswered questions, but there’s also still one more week. So I guess the question is, how am I going to live this last week? It hit tonight as Townie and I were lying on a trampoline that there’s moments in life you’re never going to forget. There’s been so many this summer. There’s been so many conversations with Daniel, with Townie, with those that have come and gone, and even several with Yon.

In the spring I remember deciding to have a good day, no matter what. And that’s what I’m deciding this week. It’s going to be good. I want to laugh. I want to leave with all the good memories. I want to leave not asking what more I could have done. I would prefer to not be Schindler this time.

old school

I just have to mention that this week, the Kids Club team used the felt board to tell the Bible story. It took me way back to Sunday School days with the Weavers and those old movies where the kids would jump into the Bible and go through the story. It was awesome, and the kids were so attentive during the story. Felt boards should never be done away with.

On the other hand, our logistics coordinator that has been taking care of us from the main office in Washington is here with us this week. She was my sidekick today, helping me with the small things I do, one of which includes driving and picking up kids for kids club. We had some serious bonding time and we got to talk about our summers and what our jobs have looked like on the field and in the office. And it was awesome. She basically considers Arizona to be like an international site because of the limited resources we have while we are out here. And she saw it first hand today when we passed by several cows on the road and almost hit a sheep with a church van packed full of kids. Needless to say, her experience is nothing short of exciting.

It’s amazing how reverting back to the old way of doing things can be so refreshing. Like cooking outside for instance. I have never in my life spent this much time outside, it’s almost all day. And besides barbeques, I have never really cooked outside. So to come here and learn and see the cool and interesting ways of doing things has been awesome. I feel like I now have a whole set of “Navajo skills” that I can carry with me the rest of my life. And I carry a knife everywhere, can it get any better?

the unexpected

*stepping out, what a child, my steps ahead of my mind
not a doubt, till you knocked me off my paradigm
simple me, only trying to see you in the stained glass
I walked right past the unexpected

Any way you want to show me all your glory
Anywhere you choose to speak, tell your story
In the low and lofty places
Strangers’ faces
Anywhere
And any way

Doubt that I would have found you there in Bethlehem
It’s no surprise you changed the world through fishermen
Good to know you would go so far to finally get through
It’s just like you, yeah, and so unlike me

Any way you want to show me all your glory
Anywhere you choose to speak, tell your story
In the low and lofty places
Strangers’ faces
Anywhere
And any way

In the back streets and on a rooftop
And at the end of a rocky road you don’t stop
On a mountain, in a rainstorm
And in a coat where a mother keeps her baby warm
In the back pew, at the altar
And at the well where you gave the woman water
In the chaos, in the holy
In the darkness and anywhere a heart beats
Anywhere a heart beats

Any way you want to show me all your glory
Anywhere you choose to speak, tell your story
In the low and lofty places
Strangers’ faces
Anywhere
And any way*

- Kelly Minter

I remembered this song the other day as I was washing dishes. And I don’t exactly remember what happened that day, or why this song jumped out at me again, but looking back, especially on this week. I realize how true this song is.

Too many times I look in the wrong places to find God. And then, like a breath of fresh air, He shows up in the unexpected. Like this morning, as Kiki took my hand to walk me back to the house, or the team offering to do the dishes for me. He’s shown up in little kids’ faces and Sarah’s wise words. He’s shown up in Daniel’s talks and the Euchre games we now play at night. He showed up yesterday as Townie and I talked for a long time. And sometimes it’s Him talking through people who ask you if you’re doing alright. I’ve seen God in the canyon, on the dirt roads, at the swap meets and in the women making frybread. I’ve seen God in a drawing instead of a stained glass window. I’ve seen him on long road trips and early morning hikes. And the other night, when I was the last one to run up a steep, sandy hill, He was waiting for me at the top in those that were standing there encouraging me. God surrounds these people. And it’s wonderful to see God in the ordinary, in the mundane, and in the people of the Navajo nation. He’s here, friends, don’t worry, he’s here.

And he’ll go home with me too. And to Indiana and to wherever the next year takes me. I just pray that I’ll be able to see him in everything there too, even the unexpected.

being sam and frodo

Daniel talked again tonight. And no matter how many times I hear a talk about his drawing, God always has something new to say to me…

A few weeks ago as we hiked down into the canyon, we all talked about which characters in Lord of the Rings we would choose to be if we got to pick. The boys all picked the warriors like Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, Townie wanted to hold a big stick and be Gandalf. And I told everyone that I would be Sam.

There’s a part of me that’s always known I would be the best friend in a story. I’m not the main character type. Please, stick me behind the scenes. No one would write a movie based on my life. But I want to be the one giving hope, the one picking my friends up when they fall down.

There are times in all of our lives when we’re each Frodo. It’s true that each of us are on our own individual journey, carrying certain burdens and things that no one else carries. We all fall many times. But there are Sams in each of our lives; those real heroes that pick us up and force us to move on and continue the journey.

I’m blessed I guess. I have so many Sams in my life. And I realized that tonight. But I also remembered that Sam is exactly who I want to be to people in my life.

Sam couldn’t carry the ring. So he carried Frodo.

So dear friends, when I can’t carry the thing, I’ll carry you.


“…together we can run to the finish line
and when you are tired, I’ll carry you…

… we were never meant to make it on our own.
and when the load becomes too heavy and your feet too tired to walk
I will carry you and we’ll be carried on…”

*rebecca st. james

the leadership major

Whenever I tell people I’m a leadership major, they always ask me what you do with that degree in the “real world”. I shrug my shoulders and say I have no clue. I could do anything with it. Why do people always pressure us to have our lives mapped out? Why do I have to know today exactly what job I’m going to be in for the rest of my life?

Why isn’t what I’m learning more important that what job I may have in the future? I wish people would ask about who I am because of the classes I’ve taken instead of what I’m going to do with some degree in the future.

Many of my classes have come back to haunt me in real life situations. I guess that’s what happens when you let God tell you what to take in college. This summer is no different. Those leadership classes are constantly in mind.

I took a class this past spring called team leader. It was a great class, I learned more than I though I could. And I got to work in a team and apply right then and there what we would talk about in lectures.

But today, in Arizona, I’m the only one who knows these principles. And my team of three is about to change dramatically in 48 hours. We’re adding a member. Experience Mission is sending us another intern to help with the last three weeks of teams. And he comes on Friday. And while I think this is going to be a good change, that never means it’s going to be easy, or that there won’t be things I need to focus on to bring all of us together.

I was telling a friend last night that the split second decisions you have to make on the field are some of the hardest I’ve ever made. I’m one of those introverts that thinks everything through before I make my final decision. And that’s not a bad thing. But sometimes, you simply don’t have the time. Sometimes, taking your time is the wrong thing to do.

Getting the phone call that someone new was coming was somewhat of a shock to me. My team, that I’ve now lived with for 7 weeks is suddenly going to change. And what am I going to do about it. How can I apply what I know from those leadership classes to make this transition smooth and good? What is God showing me here? What in the world am I going to learn here that I could never learn in a classroom?