more facts

The truth is, I gravitate towards extremities.  Apparently writing is not immune to this tendency; in order to avoid extremely verbose and borderline sentimental writing, I find myself needing to head to the opposite pole and report in a factual, clinical way.  It’s either philosophy or science, I think, and to make sure I actually give you facts and not just vague allusions about life here, I’m going to stick to the science pole today:

LLCC Wellington:

Ready, set, go: The first Sunday meeting went well!  Children and adults, there are 70 people in the church- mostly families that have been a part of the Taunton church, and most were there for this first week.  We’re meeting at Courtfields School, the only secondary school in town, which means we get to enjoy the full set-up/tear-down process each week.

 

Life in the church: The whole church will begin Vision and Commitment, LLCC’s spiritual foundations course, at the beginning of January.  There will be no official home groups until V&C is finished, but there will be less formal care groups that will facilitate building relationships and encouraging evangelistic initiatives.

Getting into Wellington:

Building relationships:  Many people in the church are well connected to the community already, some having lived here for a lifetime.  The outstanding question is how to best pull people into the life and family of the church- not necessarily in overtly evangelistic efforts.

Connecting in:  I’m finding, along with others in the church, that it’s quite possible to have divine appointments- having words for people, being able to pray for others, and having an opening to clearly articulate the gospel.  But although people can be very open and receptive in these moments, it’s really common for them to become evasive after that.  It’s an interesting pattern; one that I’m praying into a lot at the moment.

Getting involved:  Needs are not as overt as they would be in a third-world country, and the culture is a far more self-sufficient one, so this has been a topic of a lot of thought and research for me.  At this stage, there are a variety of initiatives that have surfaced that are interestingly very in line with issues that I’ve felt God’s spoken to me about, including serving basic needs of those under economic pressure, providing environments to pull people into the family of the church, working with the town’s youth, and human trafficking.  We need wisdom to know where and how to move forward.

…and then there’s me:

Visas and such:  The first stage of the visa process finally(!) cleared this week, praise God!  This means that I can now apply for my own visa.  Immigration rules dictate that I have to fly back to the US in order to apply.  This is not ideal for two reasons: first, the obvious expense.  Second, due to the time frames we’re working with, it’s somewhat risky that I could end up outside the UK and not be able to come back for any portion of the actual program.  We’re looking into asking whether an exception could be made so that I could apply directly at the US embassy in London.  I may end up spending a day at the embassy next month, pleading my case.  If you’re praying, please pray for favor.

Being in school:  That’s how I feel at the moment.  There are things that I believe God’s just beginning to teach me and ways that he’s adjusting and broadening my perspectives on plenty of things, including how we build our lives in God and the church, expecting the supernatural in the everyday, and how I perceive fruitfulness.  I’m challenged on the subject of faith constantly.

Enjoying the “now”:  In the spirit of Thanksgiving Day (which, incidentally, doesn’t exist over here), here are a few things I’m thankful for right now:

-Welsh cakes

-small cars

-stone buildings

-living with four ‘siblings’

-my new mountain bike (a gift!)

-talking strategy with Kim

-my gym membership, soon to commence (another gift!)

-bugging John with my color-coded spreadsheets ;)

-my knee-high riding boots (charity shop find)

-time to read volumes of C.S. Lewis

-the kindness of God to encourage in the most timely ways

-eggs with really orange, not yellow, yolks

-windows with no screens

-temperatures no lower than 40 degrees

-morning running

-new friends

Happy Thanksgiving. :)

                

through heaven's eyes

A single thread in a tapestry

Though its color brightly shine

Can never see its purpose

In the pattern of the grand design

And the stone that sits on the very top

Of the mountain's mighty face

Does it think it's more important

Than the stones that form the base?

So how can you see what your life is worth

Or where your value lies?

You can never see through the eyes of man

You must look at your life through heaven's eyes

A lake of gold in the desert sand

Is less than a cool fresh spring

And to one lost sheep, a shepherd boy

Is greater than the richest king

If a man lose ev'rything he owns

Has he truly lost his worth?

Or is it the beginning

Of a new and brighter birth?

So how do you measure the worth of a man

In wealth or strength or size?

In how much he gained or how much he gave?

The answer will come to him who tries

To look at his life through heaven's eyes

The Prince of Egypt was released when I was 11 years old, and at pivotal “seasons” since then, I’ve caught this song from the movie circling around in my head.  I’m sure I sang this song to myself when I would go “exploring” during those years: happily alone, stomping through unfamiliar and unlimited miles of wild woods, coming back just in time for dinner with tangled hair, muddy shoes, and torn jeans. (No wonder I had culture shock when I transitioned from home schooling to private school the following year…I might as well have been Mowgli from The Jungle Book.)

Last week, I chose the bleakest, mistiest day of autumn to relive these childhood explorations: I “explored” my way into the Blackdown Hills to find the Wellington monument.  I often hear God best when I’m on walks like this.  Sure enough, this song found its way into my head as I talked with him during this Expedition.

"Average" landmarks are worth a
second glance here.

Path into the elephant grass

Life right now, here in this pioneering environment, isn’t that unlike one leg of my little Expedition.  I stumbled upon the path a couple weeks ago- I’ve learned already that a break in the fence is worth examining closely: a good view and an adventure are often on the other side.  I had been fairly certain that this path would reach all the way to the monument.  

Pretty, hidden paths

The initial stages of the trek are just plain lovely: flat terrain past charming little cottages.  But that changes a bit here: the only way past one of the country’s major motorways is to go through this tunnel:  

Change of landscape

After that, it’s an increasingly uphill climb.  The monument is probably visible on a clear day, but anything further than 20 feet was lost on Expedition Day.  No visibility, no fellow travelers, and no maps.  So it was just a matter of staying the course and putting one foot in front of the other as the walk became more of a climb up into the misty woods.

Misty climb

Typical terrain- watch your footing!

The Trust owns the monument:
still headed the right way!

This sign was a welcome encouragement after a couple of hours: 

The path branched out after that, and I wandered for a while, wondering if I was going to have to forage for mushrooms or something, until these stairs appeared:  

Up the stairs

Hidden, branching paths

Climbing up, I was so focused on maintaining my breathing and ignoring the fatigue in my legs that seeing this when I looked up came as something of a shock:

175 feet of 200 year old stone

All in all, it was a brilliant Expedition.

There’s a conception, I think, that church planting must be exciting, adventurous work.  It is.  Really.  It’s such a privilege to share in what God’s doing in such an involved way.  But it’s sometimes necessary- for me, anyway- to remember that this is the case because the adventure is not always visible from this vantage point.

I’ve been thinking about the American pioneers a lot.  Reading the sixth grade history books or playing The Oregon Trail (Come on, you know it was the best game of the late 90’s!), you’d think it was a nonstop adrenaline rush: there was always a river to ford, oxen to butcher for food, or herbs to find to cure the latest outbreak of dysentery. (That or the smallpox.  How many times did I lose the game to smallpox?)  But really, those were just the highlights…most days probably looked like one foot in front of the other.  Simple.  Mundane.  Requiring confidence that you were still headed in the right direction.  It must have been easy to lose perspective then, like it’s easy to lose perspective in a heavy mist.  The significance of the mundane and the value of tenacity are easy to overlook.  But every step taken matters, like the “single thread in a tapestry”.

Tenacious and yet sometimes mundane “steps” mark this season. (I’ll give you another ‘facts post’ soon explaining exactly what they look like.) I love structure.  I love long-term planning.  I love living at the speed of light.  None of the above marks this Expedition at the moment.  Instead, I’m (still!) learning tenacity in the mundane, and I am trusting that my definition of “fruitfulness” from the journey is sorely limited.  There is a heavenly estimation of what we do and how we build that is rightly humbling to me.  As I keep putting one foot in front of the other, I’m so aware that I’m in “school” with the Lord: he’s adjusting and broadening my conceptions of building, kingdom living, the supernatural, and fruitfulness.  And as I keep exploring and walking on in this process, I’m asking to see “through heaven’s eyes”.

PS: On the way down, I stopped to capture this
 tree when I noticed something in the shot...

A whole flock appeared from the mist!

the final count

Living Light Wellington’s first Sunday meeting is this week.  The past couple of weeks have felt like the “final count” – there’s an undercurrent of tension present when you’re poised for the count at a starting line or on New Year’s Eve, even if the tension is mostly exciting.  In this case, the tension is felt in a few ways: the higher consistency of meetings, unexpected time dedicated to administrating details that will prove to be important…it’s a matter of helping people find their places and giving them the tools to go.  I’m half participant, half observer in this process with the living situation being such as it is, and I’m very glad for both perspectives. 

Preparing for the church weekend away has been an added dynamic during the past few weeks.  The weekend was something of a blur, as I ended up heading up the kids’ work and being pretty actively involved in the worship.  All in all, though, it was fantastic: God spoke, we had great times together in the presence of God, there was plenty of unhurried time for people to spend together, and there were ample English novelties for this American to enjoy.  Here are a few highlights:

Welcome to Brunel Manor.  This is the view as you pull in.

 The front door.  Why residential doors were ever designed to fit elephants through, I’m not sure, but it’s a welcome break from the standard glass revolving doors we Americans are used to.









About one third of the main staircase.  Ever so slightly reminiscent of Hogwarts…ask me how many times I sprinted up and down just because it gives the sensations of trail running and flying, respectively.

 




My room, affectionately dubbed my “hobbit hole”.  I am standing with the camera just outside the door frame.  Floor space was about 2x5 feet.


…But no matter the size, the English are committed to necessities.  Every room came equipped with its own teakettle and assortment of coffees and teas.  A personal sink basin was to the left. 










Fun times with the kids.  During one of the sessions, the kids were tied together and sent on a scavenger hunt on the manor grounds.  Here they are getting ready:

                                                          

 Evening entertainment includes food, of course.  One of the Saturday night traditions are  elaborate cheese platters filled with apples, pears, tomato chutney, piccalilli, and of course, an extravagant variety of cheeses from all over Europe.  I’ll save my exultations for an entirely food-devoted post.

Brunel weekend has the feel a big family reunion- far more laid-back than the annual OCM conference.  By necessity, next year will no doubt be different.  Wondering what it will be like a year after church planting is a bit like wondering what your life will look like in ten years’ time…but who knows?  The next few weeks may give a little insight…