Friday, November 14, 2014

Living Water


Have you ever experienced the tenderness of God flowing through you into another person’s life? Would you like to be part of this work that God is doing through my life? I want to invite you to participate in ministry with me. I have been serving at Grace Ministries International for eight years now as a discipleship counselor who leads people into the joy of their salvation. As I live in the grace of God, and embrace my union with Him, He lives through me to reach those who need to know His love. God has called me to express His love in listening, compassion and conversation filled with truth. On a daily basis I see people come alive to an intimate relationship with Jesus. They discover the confidence that comes from knowing how He has transformed their spirits and given them a new heart.

Perhaps you would consider investing in this work of the Kingdom. Ministers at GMI are supported as missionaries so that we have the freedom to share the message of Christ with people regardless of their ability to pay. There are opportunities to give financially or to provide prayer support by being in contact through our newsletter. However, there may be other ways you are led to share the abilities and resources God has put in your hands.

My goal is not just to generate financial support or one time donations but to develop lasting relationships that will lead to more effective ministry. If you are lead to join our financial support team, click on the link below to donate, or Email me if you would like to discuss more fully how our support works.

This letter may answer some of your initial questions about what I do and how you can participate, but I welcome the opportunity to begin a conversation and share what God is doing through me.

charles@gmint.org /404.271.5947

Click Here to support financially and begin a partnership online.
Please scroll down to my name under Staff Contributions

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

He Enters In.

I want to share a story with you . . .

The other day I found myself in an interesting new situation, making a discovery I had not expected to make. Our family had just finished eating dinner and was preparing to go to the YMCA for a brief time of swimming with the kids before bedtime. Owen came up to me, sippy cup in hand, with a big smile on his face, but it was the kind of sly smile you have when you’ve just done something “wrong” and you know it, and you don’t care. I immediately looked behind him, at the couch and chair in our living room, and saw that he had chosen to spit apple juice all over them. In fact, he was still in the process of dribbling the last of it out of his mouth onto the ottoman. So far, the situation was not that new or interesting, but what happened next was.

First of all, of course, I felt angry. Of course I wanted to “swat him upside the head.” I even thought that it might be my duty as a father to punish him, severely! All my programming and wiring told me that this is what I should do, but underneath all of that, underneath all the emotion and the sense of outrage and even the sense that I HAD to do something to make him never do this again, I found a love that I had not expected to see, in my heart.  I began to speak in carefully guarded tones to Dawn. “What do you do when your child spits all over the furniture and then laughs in your face about it?” I desperately wanted to control his behavior on all future occasions when he might feel tempted to do such a thing again and yet, something in me, dare I say it was my spirit, told me that I could never control him. I could not, by punishment or fear, truly change his choices. Sure, I could probably terrify him into never doing it again, or even patiently make him suffer some “consequence” that would “teach him a lesson” but Jesus was asking me in my heart to do something different. He was asking me to follow my heart and enter into this with Owen.

At first, Dawn wanted to just quickly mop it up and let it slide, and go off to the pool, but something inside me said no. I didn’t want to punish Owen, or just “teach him a lesson”, but I did not want to just let this go either.

“I feel sad,” I found myself saying,”because now Owen and I can’t go swimming. We need to stay here and clean up this mess. I don’t want our couches to be ruined.”
The look on Owen’s face was not so sly or triumphant anymore, which isn’t a surprise. In fact, he started crying. As we spent the next half hour spraying spot remover and scrubbing the couch with moist towels, Owen cried again and again, “I sad. We have to clean the couches. We can’t go swimming.” Over and over he repeated himself as he cried quietly and sometimes not so quietly. And again and again I was moved to wrap my arms around his skinny little shoulders and hug him, to cry with him, and to tell him how sad I was that we couldn’t go swimming.

Now, I knew that as a consequence this was probably working well. I knew that he was learning what he really wanted to do, in place of what he had actually done. I knew that the environment of love (instead of fear) was providing a place for him to learn and grow.  Nobody learns well when they’re afraid, and punishment brings fear (1 John 4:17-18). However, I was so surprised at what was happening in my own heart. Instead of feeling self-righteous and smug as I doled out a consequence on my son, I felt grief and sadness as I participated in the suffering with him. I felt longing and connection and compassion for him, and it felt so good! It was the exact opposite of anger. As I cried with him and hugged him, and helped him get ready for bed, God was speaking into my heart. Jesus was simply saying to me, with a triumphant note in His voice, “See Charles, this is the way I am with you. Always remember that I enter into suffering with you. I took all the pain of your choices into myself. It is the whole reason I went to the cross. We learn together the tough lessons of this life. I never leave you or forsake you. Instead I feel what you feel with you, and I patiently teach you to follow your true heart’s desire, which is to love.”

A week later, Owen was still lisping about how he didn’t want to spit on the couch. Will he make other mistakes, and will he probably spit on the couch again? Yup. I can’t control him, and more and more I find don’t want to. Instead, I get to show him who he is and set him free to be fully himself, discovering his true desire through many mistakes and heart-aches. He’s a wild one, full of mischief and spit. I can’t control him, but I can love him. The lesson I learned that day – loving my kids in the midst of the mess is the best thing I can do for them and for myself, and that this is how Jesus loves me – is one I will carry in my heart forever, along with the joy of being fully loved.