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Back then Forth

Exhausted. It’s a term I will no longer use to describe physical tiredness. It’s been a while since my last blog post, and I hope I do not leave this blog stale for too long moving forward. My grandfather passed away Friday, Feb.1. He was 91 years old. My family and I got to spend the last 2 days together with him in the hospital. After he passed, we spent the next 4 days together mourning, but also celebrating his life. It was emotionally and mentally exhausting, but it was a special time for our family. Over the past 5 years of my life the importance of family and community has been revealed to me in ways words cannot explain. Such a high compression of thoughts, memories, and feelings could potentially be unraveled in pieces, but my obsessive-compulsive disorder would not allow justice. The first morning I was back in Buffalo, after my trip home to Schenectady, I found myself at my church for a series on authentic manhood. The first discussion/reflection question was about our hesitancy to look back at defining moments and key relationships in our lives. At first I could barely offer anything to the discussion. My mind and heart had been churning like a blender for 5 days straight without rest concerning these very topics. Just when I thought I was going to cool my reflective jets and return back to reality, I turned the page to prodding, intimate questions. I was quickly reminded I was not in control of the blender. There is a reason my time for looking back is not over.

a prayer request box, the last thing Pop and I made together in his workshop before he passed

    

"I think I saw Jesus today"

She sat in the patient waiting area writing down everything that had just happened. The last line on the page read "I think I saw Jesus today".

Last week I was at the Jericho Road Family Practice on Genesee Street in the Eastside of Buffalo. I was talking with Takesha Leonard, one of the nurse practitioners who has become a good friend of mine, and she told me the following story.

A woman walked into Jericho Road Family Practice looking for help and information concerning diabetes. The receptionist, Yvette, told her the diabetes specialist was not present that day. Yvette recognized the woman was disheartened and told her she could still make an appointment, but when the woman learned the practice was not a free clinic, she again was discouraged and ready to leave. Yvette was burdened by the woman's despair and told Takesha, who had a room full of patients waiting to see her. She told Yvette to keep the woman from leaving and to encourage her that she could still be helped. The woman didn't want to stay. Yvette insisted she wait to talk to Takesha. The woman told Yvette she did not have money to pay for an appointment and was getting ready to leave when Takesha came out of the office to tell Yvette she could talk to the woman. As the woman turned to leave, Takesha pleaded to talk to her and asked the woman to come into her office. For the next hour Takesha sought to hear this woman's story. Slowly the woman began lowering her guard. The woman had recently become homeless when her son was shot and killed in the project they lived. Only her son's name was on the housing agreement, so she was left homeless after his death. She now lives in her car in the community that Jericho Road Family Practice is located. Takesha asked the woman if she had food, but the woman did not want any assistance. Then Takesha offered to get a personal refrigerator for her that she could keep in the clinic's break room, but the woman declined as she had nothing to offer in return. Takesha responded "I don't want anything from you, this is how I show Christ's love, serving the community the only way I know how." The woman began to weep for the pure heart she was receiving from Takesha and Yvette who just wanted to love and care for her. The woman made her way to the waiting room as Takesha began to see her patients again. For the next half hour the woman wrote in her journal about what had transpired and the last line on the page read "I think I saw Jesus today".

The next day Yvette called the woman to see how she was doing and the woman was writing an obituary for a family friend who had passed.

I recently asked Yvette if the woman has returned to the practice and she said she has a few times with a different expression on her face, one of hope. The woman knows she has not been forsaken.              

I came across this beautiful scripture the day I heard this story from Jericho Road. It speaks to our Heavenly Father's heart for the discouraged, "the least of these"...

"When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue is parched with thirst, I the LORD will answer them; I the God of Israel will not forsake them. I will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys. I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water. I will put in the wilderness the cedar, the acacia, the myrtle, and the olive. I will set in the desert the cypress, the plane and the pine together, that they may see and know, may consider and understand together, that the hand of the LORD has done this, the Holy One of Israel has created it." Isaiah 41:17-20

a Servant, a Soldier, and the Savior

It was in a stuffy college dorm room in the fall of 2004 when I wrote a letter to my dying grandmother. My Nonny was 300 miles away and suffering from advanced pancreatic cancer, sometimes referred to as a "silent killer" because early progression often does not cause symptoms. I wanted her to know how much she meant to me. I wanted her to know what she had done for our family. She loved God and showed it every day by the way she served and cared for our family, her church, and all who knew her until her time in this life was finished, just like Christ, a humble servant to the end. She handled what was before her with amazing grace. She told us she lived a good life and planned her funeral to celebrate it as such. She asked for a cage full of doves to be released at the cemetery during the burial. It symbolized her soul being set free. She was going home to her Creator, where the cancer that had her bed-ridden and suffering in the flesh was no more. Her soul rests peacefully now, for a new body awaits her, one that will never be broken. If her time in this life was only taste of all that God designed her to be, I can't wait to see her beautiful soul in the eternal glory of His coming Kingdom.

Nonny and I celebrating my high school graduation, shortly after she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer

It was in a large suburban church in the fall of 2011 when I met the former number three in the Bloods. Mrs. Law, or Mother Law as she is affectionately known in the city of Buffalo, grabbed my hand and pulled me into the sanctuary during the middle of service to meet a group of guys I would soon call friends for life. As for the former number three, that was Mike. He would be called many names in the culture I grew up in, but to me, he is a brother. When he struggles, I'm burdened, when he rejoices, I celebrate. Mike came to know Christ through a thread of people in his life that shared Jesus with him. When his younger brother, Anthony, became a believer through a basketball ministry, Mike found himself loved and covered in prayer by amazing servants of the Lord at Urban Christian Ministries. In time he left the gang and gave his life to Christ. Mike is soldier. He was a soldier in the Bloods, and a respected one at that. He understood chain of command. He recognized authority and respected it. He was a faithful soldier who took care of his own in a decade of service for the Bloods, but when he met Jesus, all authority in his life was trumped. Now he's a soldier for Christ.          

Mike and I at the bowling alley where we fellowship on Tuesday nights            

So how could these two people, who couldn't look any different from the outside, be so closely related to my calling in Buffalo?

I was recently turning the pages in my Bible when I asked God to bring me to a place of reflection and connection to all that has transpired in my life since He first called me to ministry. That's when I found myself reading a little story about a servant, a soldier, and a miraculous moment of healing in the book of Luke. Amongst those in the Christian faith the story is known as Jesus' healing of a centurion's servant, but upon further review a light bulb went off in my head and God connected the pieces as He so often does when we're in the Word and in prayer. 

When I first heard God calling me into ministry it was the fall of 2004. Yes, the same season of my life I wrote that letter to my Nonny, "a servant who was sick and at the point of death, who was highly valued"(Luke 7:2). What I failed to mention was that Nonny did not pass in that season. In fact, she lived well beyond her expected time here. Despite an aggressive and advanced stage of incurable cancer at the age of 80, she lived for an entire year more. My family and I got to spend precious time with her soaking up sun rays and sipping on fresh fruit smoothies talking about God's beautiful creation in the summer of 2005. Although God did not completely remove the cancer from my grandmother, it was truly a miracle and answer to prayer that she was abel to be with us for as long as a year, especially when her days seemed numbered in the fall of 2004. Luke 7 verse 10 says "when those who had been sent returned to the house, they found the servant well" and so when I return home I'll look forward to seeing my Nonny all well in Heaven. 

As for the centurion, who said "Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof. Therefore I did not presume to come to you. But say the word, and let my servant be healed. For I too am a man set under authority, with soldiers under me"(Luke 7:6-8), he became a believer, just like Mike, a faithful soldier. Now Mike follows the Greater Centurion, the Sovereign Ruler, the King of Kings, the Savior Jesus Christ.

My Grace Story

I was not yet a teenager before I experienced both brokenness and holiness. I remember being a rambunctious kid with a lot of energy and curiosity. I remember being the kid that my friend's parents would like, you know, the kid that all the parents say nice things about. I remember taking a reserved, but welcoming pride in that. Shortly before becoming a teenager I had that first experience of brokenness and holiness. During a youth camp in Tennessee I was in an auditorium when it became very clear to me that there was something much bigger going on in the world than my own life. That this God of the Holy Bible that I had learned about my whole life was actually very real and relevant. There were some girls crying in the seats in front of me over what I think were deep family wounds or troubles. I began to think about what saddened me in the experiences of brokenness in my own my family and circle of friends. Looking back I believe it was the first time I had a "spiritual moment" because my physical, mental, and emotional state were are all impacted. The weight of life was feeling quite heavy, and I sensed God had the power to lift that dead weight. I got home from the trip, told my parents it was awesome and that I wanted to go to my friends Matt and Mike. When I arrived at Matt’s house I ran downstairs where my two best friends were playing video games. I told them everything I had learned and experienced at camp. I told them with pure joy. It was the first time I went into Matt’s basement and didn't pick up a video game controller. In the next couple of years I publicly proclaimed my faith in Jesus Christ as my Savior and was baptized in front of the church. However, in the wake of life’s ups and downs I wrestled with the faith God had given me. I went through long bouts of depression and anxiety. Later in college I explored excessive drinking, drugs, pornography and fornication. I would be continuously shaken by conviction, but I justified my behavior with twisted excuses. Being away from home at school in Buffalo I could leave accountability behind. I was separated from fellowship in the church I grew up in and I gave little effort to find a new church to call home. The only accountability came from phone calls with my father and some times I was high on drugs during those conversations. I felt the Holy Spirit convicting me and my defense was panic, running towards all that lust and human desire had to offer. The idol I was worshipping was my own pride. It was all about pleasuring myself with instant gratification, even at the expense of the relationships with those I loved, including my relationship with God. In this time of despair I heard from two people in different areas of my life that told me about the same church. When I finally attended a Sunday gathering with Restoration Church, Jesus became the focus in my journey once again. I kept praying "I don’t deserve you, Jesus, I have messed up my life so much. I’ve wasted the money you gave my parents to provide for me, I’ve wasted the faith they passed down to me, I can’t make it a week without succumbing to temptation, I’ve denied your longing for me, and I’ve ran from conviction." I started repenting, asking God for forgiveness, but I was still having difficulty forgiving myself. I wanted to change and leave all my sin behind, but I kept falling into temptation. My efforts to justify my righteousness failed.

Slowly, peace crawled into my life through prayer, worship, relationship with other believers and the preaching of God's Word. I began reading scripture again and took every opportunity I had to be in fellowship with the church. Once again I believed “Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven, and whose sins are covered; blessed is the man against whom the Lord will not count his sin.” Romans 4:7-8 (Psalms 32:1-2)

Now, when I have conviction from past or recent sin and I’m experiencing a strong stirring in my spirit, I know there is brokenness in a relationship with God, a friend, family member, or my fiancé. I know it’s the Holy Spirit in me, making it known it is time for reconciliation through forgiveness and Jesus becomes the only way for healing to occur. A few months ago I told my fiancé some things I had never told her before. Stuff from before and during our relationship, heavy stuff, stuff that even feels filthy coming out of my mouth. Stuff that you don’t want to tell someone you love because you know that telling her will hurt her and you don’t want her to ever feel the pain you’ve caused. When I told her these things, she cried, but with tears in her eyes, she said, "I don’t know why you’ve waited this long to tell me these things, but I forgive you and I love you even more." I thought "Are you kidding me?" Without Jesus, this was NOT possible. I deserve to be punished, not given grace! Yet Jesus tells me He is the only way to reconciliation and forgiveness of my sins, and because of Him, I can move forward, I live, free of guilt, free of the pain and agony these acts of selfishness have caused and burdened my heart with. Free to love my fiancé without having this never-ending guilt in my mind that I don’t deserve the chance to love her and to be loved by her. I couldn’t justify the grace I was receiving without Jesus. He is the reason my fiancé loves me more. The power of Jesus is overwhelming. When I talk to co-workers, friends, and family about their troubles, or I hear their heartache through their stories I have a burden to show them the love God showed me through His Son. I think about Jesus's obedience to willingly die on the cross for the mess I created, for my sins and all those who believe in His perfect sacrifice. I want to give people trapped in depression, loneliness and despair the hope that the dead weight of life was overcome by Jesus's perfect life, sacrifice, and resurrection. So in opportunities to share my story with others I am thankful. Thankful to share hope, thankful to share the love I received. The joy of serving and loving others has become real in knowing I’m not doing it for myself, or for my own gain. I know what serving myself leads to and it’s a dark place, absent of love. I also know in following Jesus I get to experience remarkable mercy and grace, every day, despite how much of a wreck I think I am. God’s love is overflowing and the grace is available to anyone, so I want to share it because Jesus provides the most hope imaginable.