Happy Fathers Day

Today I feel like I’m on the episode of “Survivor” when they remember all of the people who were voted off the island. God had blessed me with some great men in my life…but over the past few years some of the men have been removed from my life.

I am blessed that my father is still alive. I have learned so much throughout the years from him. Hard work, a wry sense of humor, and unconditional live are just a few of his traits I attempt to emulate.

Last year we lost my next door neighbor to lung cancer–Mr. Bill. I walk out back at my parents house and I still look for him…and after a year I’m surprised not to hear a happy “Howdy neighbor!” No matter what he was going through, he always had a smile and a joke.

Two men from my former church are missed as well…Coach and Charlie. Mighty men of God, always there with a word of encouragement and a smile. Coach is bigger than life in my mind…a gentle giant. He made sure I saw the Grand Canyon as we flew over it on our way to my first mission trip. Charlie was like my dad…telling me what I didn’t want to hear and making sure my car was maintained.

As I write this, I can’t help but be humbled. Some people can’t claim to have one good man in their lives. I have too many to write about in one blog. I am a blessed woman.

Happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there. Never underestimate how important being a man of integrity and character is to those around you!

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Forward, March

Forward,march!! Left. Right. Left. Right.

Ok, I admit it. I was a band geek in high school. Mock me if you will, but it taught me life skills…like how to love football. One thing I hated about marching band was the parades. Ugh…I still get anxious in October around Woodbury’s Fall Festival Parade time. The smell of diesel fumes…and the dread of never quite being in step. If you see a picture of a band, inevitably you’ll notice one person with the wrong foot forward. That was usually a chick playing tenor sax named Deneen.

Aside from realizing that I’ll never quite fit in with the crowd, I learned how to mobilize myself. Aside from chiding myself along by saying, “C’mon, White, you can do this!” I find myself saying, “Forward, march!” when the going gets tough and I want to remain sedentary instead of proactive.

I am in a season of proactivity right now, whether I like it or not. I sense forward progress despite the appearance of setbacks.

If you find yourself seemingly stuck in a not-so-ideal situation, I hope you hear my voice or see my words. It’s time to mobilize.

Forward, march!

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People don’t care how much you know…

I read a book this weekend called Heaven is for Real by Todd Burpo. My friend highly recommended it to me, and I have to admit. I was reticent to read it. Maybe I’m jaded by endless bookshelves filled with all kinds of claims about Jesus and heaven. Maybe I’m just jaded by life’s circumstances. Regardless of my cynicism, I read the book. In about 3 hours. I’m a quick reader, but I couldn’t put this book down.

If I had to condense the message of the book down to one sentence, it would be, “God loves His children.” I’m sure that you are wide-eyed with wonder at that assertion, wondering if I just stepped out from a rock under which I’ve been hiding since I professed Christ as my Saviour.

Nope.

The scales of cynicism were torn off of my eyes because of the story of a little boy.

I live in a very hard city. Most days I am convinced that Philadelphia was ironically named the city of brotherly love. If you walk the streets of this city, it makes NYC seem like a walk through the daisies. The longer I live here, the harder my heart has become. It is increasingly easy to scoff at the homeless man who daily demands my loose change, to tell the solicitors from Planned Parenthood, Save the Children, and a myriad of other charities where they can stick their petitions.

But, I read the story of a little boy who almost died, who claims to have seen Jesus face to face, and all of a sudden some of the hardness that has become the ground of my heart started to break apart. I started to feel again.

People don’t really care how much you know. People need to know how much you care. I can go into a deep theological debate with someone over the deity of Christ, the triune God, eschatology, dichotomy vs trichotomy, but in the end, all that matters is one thing. God cares about His children. God doesn’t care if you are gay or straight, black or white, male or female, Muslim or Catholic or Baptist or Jewish. God loves everyone on planet Earth enough to have died for you. God loves you so much that He made a way–through Jesus and Jesus alone–for every person to enter into heaven. He loves you so much that He’s given you the option not to love Him back and spend eternity in Hell. Yes, it breaks His heart, but He doesn’t force His love upon you. He bestows it upon you.

In our world, and in my city in particular, no one really cares how much I know. They want to know how much I care. How much do you care?

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The Scent of Water

I’m reading a book entitled The Scent of Water: Grace for Every Kind of Broken by Naomi Zacharias. I cannot recommend this book highly enough.  Her writing style is conversational…as you read through the pages, you sense that she is telling her story, and in the telling of her story, she is finding healing for some deep hurts. As I’m reading it, I too am finding healing for some deep hurts that have scabbed over but not yet scarred.

When I was a kid, I never dreamed my life would be what it is today. Never in a million years. In many ways, I am severely disappointed. Even 10 years ago, I never would have dreamed that I’d be sitting her writing with tears running down my face, wishing for what was but what never really was.

That being said, in so many ways, my life is richer than I ever would have imagined. I have a few true friends who, when I’m in my 80′s, I’ll still call, text, email, fly in my Jetson’s car to see. I am a part of a church plant here in Philly that is going to change the face of this city. I have the most amazing niece and nephews in the world.

Through the tough times, the dark nights of the soul, there is always One that I can depend on. When I am finished having my temper tantrum, when I am through telling him how awful things are and how I didn’t sign up for this, He reminds me of those tender moments when, as He was revealing things to me during the good times, that He told me that this was not going to be easy. He shows me His nail pierced hands and His spear pierced side, and reminds me that when He was hanging on the cross, He knew it was His mission alone. No other could have taken on the cross. It was His choice to take that on…because He loves me, ME, enough to suffer so that I may enter into the gates of Heaven one day; he love YOU enough to suffer so that YOU may enter through the gates of heaven one day. If I so choose. If you so choose.

I’d take a life of difficulty over a life of simplicity any day. Why? Because I said yes when God asked me if I wanted this life. I said yes because I want my life to be used to help other lives. If I need more dross burned off, bring it on.

What’s going on in your neck of the woods? Let’s do this thing together.

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Raving fans

Spring has sprung here in Philadelphia. I went to my first Phillies game of the season yesterday. Over 45,000 people, in one stadium, at a 1:05PM game, with one goal: to cheer on their team. As I stood in the stadium, I was reminded of one of the most powerful experiences of my life.

A few years back, I went on a mission trip to Baja Mexico. At the end of the trip, I went to Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego to see Billy Graham speak. As much as I admired Reverend Graham, I was a bit skeptical to see him speak in such a large venue. What I saw changed my life forever. As he was speaking, people in waves rushed down onto the field. People from the nosebleed seats. People from the lower levels. By the time he had an altar call, the field was a sea of people who were hungry for a touch from our Creator.

Yesterday, as I was cheering like a maniac, telling the drunk dude behind me to pipe down because it’s only April, something clicked in my spirit. What would it be like to have Citizens Bank Park full of men, women and children whose hearts were set on one thing: worshiping our Creator? What if, instead of cheering for millionaires to play a game, 45,000 people were rejoicing over one brother or sister accepting or returning to Christ?

As I enter into this new season of my life, working 13 blocks away from home and being a part of planting a church that is serious about seeing the city of Philadelphia transformed, my prayer is that one day, Citizens Bank Park is full of people whose hearts are set on God.

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Ch ch ch changes

The one constant in my life is change. Part of me loves change–new challenges, new people, new experiences. Another part of me craves constancy–routine, existing relationships, my comfortable pants with the holes that were earned, not purchased.

The seasons in my life are passing rather quickly these days. Four months ago, I was super excited to start a new job in my hometown of Woodbury. I was excited about the short commute, the challenge of an office completely different from the one that I left. I was happy that I would have the opportunity to see my family whenever I wanted.

Then, I was grafted into a group of church planters here in Philadelphia. Suddenly my short commute seems excruciatingly long. So I reached out to a colleague here in the city and BAM–I start a new job in Philadelphia in a few weeks.

God is doing things in my life that I wished for but I never would have hoped for…He is giving me what I most desire and what I most fear.  He has planted me into a community. I wasn’t ready for that. I wanted to dabble. The next thing I know I’m making pasta salad and playing with the kids and smiling as my pastor challenges me. I’m getting to know men and women…and letting them get to know me. I’m working with a group of people whose goal is that the one far from God will be filled with life in Christ.

If you read this, please pray for me. As excited as I am about my transition, I know that there is a LOT of work to be done in the new office. Please pray that God would help me to develop relationships with people in my new sphere, to be who He has created me to be. Please pray for our team. If you’ve ever been to Philly and have seen it through spiritual eyes, you know there is a lot to be done in my city.

If there is anything that you need prayer for, let me know. Or just say hi :)

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Planting

One day, I want to have a rose garden. I want roses of different colors and varieties. I love roses…they’re not your average flower. They are a little bit dangerous. They are fragrant. They are beautiful. They are civilized. They have thorns that will not think twice about cutting your fingers if you are not careful.

Roses require more care than your average flower. You have to prune and trim them regularly. At the end of the season, you are supposed to cut them all the way down so that the next year, they will grow back bigger and stronger. Roses have enemies…there are bugs that love roses more than I do…but, if I’m persistent and vigilant, I can win the battle over the insects.

I see Philadelphia as one huge, wild, untamed, unkempt rose garden. I see beauty all over, but I also see the thorns sticking out of people. There is a blight over my city–the blight of depression, cynicism, anger, hopelessness. We love our sports teams yet we don’t care about our neighbors.

I am a part of a church planting team here in Philadelphia. We’re planting a church called City Life Church. We are a life-giving church so that the one far from Christ will be filled with life from Christ.

I’m really excited to see what God does. People have moved their lives, their families to this city to plant this church. I’m buckling up and getting prepared for the ride of a lifetime.

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