Two Messages: Truth and Lies

I substitute in several area secondary schools ( think 6th -12th grade ). I won't mention the specific schools as I think the experiences are typical of any secondary school. There seems to be two prevailng messages as evidenced in that age old method of communication unique to every public sphere--bathroom graffiti.
       As a sub I don't always get a chance to race to the faculty lounge or teacher restroom so I have to brave the LGR ( little girls room )  and often over hear the gossip, excitement, anguish and angry discussions that come from the ever present cell phones and social media feed. Interestingly I haven't seen as much of the random acts of wall writing or artistry as I used to because of the above mentioned cell phones. Students can virtually "tag" anytime, anywhere, anyone...and not get caught.
You can guess the first of the two general messages or vibes - gossip, maliciousness, lies, and silliness ( dancing cats ).  But the second message , much smaller, I've witnessed in several restrooms in various schools:

" Hang in there"
" You look great "
" Chin Up You're. Worth it! "
" You are beautiful "
" Don't believe the lie. You are loved"

I now purposely seek out those restrooms for the emotional "shot in the arm" these missives bring. An inoculation against the viral junky messages that swirl around these kids all day. Yes, whoever penned and carved these quotes may have very much been in the "snarky" high school vein. But I think when a high school or middle school ( or much older ) girl reads "Hang in there" she hears so much more than sarcasm. This girls reads the truth that things will be OK. That she is loved beyond measure, a beautiful worthwhile creation. I have to believe these little love letters hold a little more permanence in hearts and minds of the young ( and old ) women that read them than the here one minute gone the next bombardments of social media. They do for me. Sometimes truth shouts boldly from a mountain top. Yet sometimes truth , for us to hear it, has to whisper quiet reassurance through a permanent marker on a bathroom wall.
Thank you for truth in unlikely places. Thank you for beauty in a bathroom stall.

A Call to Peter and to Me

When the disciples saw Jesus walking across the water, they had previously witnessed Him feed thousands, heal the sick, cast out demons. But only Peter got out of the boat and tried to walk across the water. Peter's impetuous radical faith led him, but his own human fear let him sink in the water till Jesus was there.

Can you imagine the joy Jesus had in seeing Peter's hesitant steps of faith? I hear Jesus calling me to get out of my own boat of comfort and safety. I hear Him calling to take those first hesitant steps when the water looks sooooo deep. I hear Him calling. 

Just get out of the boat,

I have made firm the way.

Just get out of the boat,

Hear my voice and what I say.

You are Beloved and Mine

Forgiven for all time.

I have so much for you,

abundant life and joy, too.

Just get out of the boat.

Come to me.

Just get out of the boat.

You will see.

I've calmed the storms,

don't be afraid.

I know your pain.

I've loosed the chains.

Just get out of the boat.

I know your fear.

I'm coming to you.

My arms are near.

Just one step, turn to me.

Just get out of the boat.

And you are Free.

Writing in the dirt

John 8:3-11 Writing in the Dirt

Rough hands in the daylight,

Poisoned pious words spit at me.

The men close in around me

like a brick wall falling down.

Child, cousin, sister, daughter,

no longer.

Naked I wear this sin.

I am devoured by their eyes.

Caught.

I knew not

to go but thought

I was in control

when he said to meet him in the afternoon quiet

when it was too hot to work

and all would be sleeping except us.

He would never use my name

never truly knowing me

but knowing me all the same.

The words and shame and spit

Hit me a thousand times.

Was I ever child, cousin, daughter, sister?

Or just the thing secretly wanted.

Who will throw the first stone?

Friend, brother, father, lover.

They will kill me

to kill their own sin.

The stones will be a mercy.

I am made to stand

Before the Rabbi

The holy man

With healing hands

from Galilee.

The Rabbi’s eyes gently hold my face.

He bends to the ground,

drawing in the pebbles and sand.

His voice is clear and strong

in the hot afternoon.

Daring them to move.

My breath is ragged,

loud in my ears.

Who will throw the first stone?      

Friend, brother, father, lover.

Caught,

in this spot of dirt

bound by the weight of this Shame.

I cannot breath.

He stoops down again

and stirs the dust with his fingers.

I cannot see what he has written.

There is only

the sound of sandals

moving in the dirt .

I close my eyes to the inevitable.

“Woman, where are they?

Has no one condemned you?”

The Rabbi’s question hangs in the thick silence.

The Rabbi stands up

alone in front of me.

Will he be both judge and executioner?

His eyes gently hold my face.

“Then neither do I condemn you.

Go and leave your life of sin.”

Freed,

No longer caught.

Named

His child, His friend, His daughter.

Clothed,

No longer naked in sin.

Free.

the bleeding woman- Bravery

Why do we pray?

 Is it simply a mental exercise?  Is it superstition like rubbing the lucky rabbit's foot? Is it more out of habit than trust that something will happen or that something can change?

I have been wrestking with these thoughts as of late and been convicted of my rather anemic prayer life. If I belive and trust the God of the Universe, so why do I not go more boldly before Him?  Why do I have the mistaken belief that Prayer is not an action the same way worship or service is an action? Why am I afraid ?

I was thinking about the woman that Jesus heals in Luke 8:40-48. She is refered to a woman who had been bleeding for 12 years or had a bleeding condition.  This woman was an outcast because of this not even worthy to touch Jesus' cloak yet she dared because of her faith. This image has been convicting to me and my anemic prayer life. To me , this woman's faith has made her BRAVE and enabled her to take the action of reaching out to God in faith and trust.  Read the verses. Pray with me. Reach out and be BRAVE. Christ is waiting to heal and give us both new life.

Be Brave

Luke 8:40-48 – The Bleeding Woman – LJM 4/5/2009

They all knew.

No one cared.

What they saw was just my shame.

12 years of blood

12 years of pain

12 years – no cure

12 years, weighted down by this stain.

Today, The Healer comes.

With word and breath the blind do see,

Lepers cleansed, lame do walk.

Could some small measure be left for me?

No one will know.

No one will see

No one cares about my pain.

Just the blood is what they see

Do I dare to hope?

            The bodies clot together around Him.

Do I dare to think?

            The air is thick with their sweat and my fear.

Do I dare to ask?

            I see my hands reach – almost touching Him.

Do I dare? Do I dare? Now?

Now.

Now!

I am clean.

            He called me Daughter.

I am healed.

            He saw me.

I am sealed,

to the one how knows my name.

Lost in that pressing mob, so lost.

            My Lord

            My God

            You found me.

I am Healed.

I am Sealed.

Lost, now found.

Now a Daughter of the King.