Tag: Jesus

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Rest for your Soul

Posted on by Susannah Warner

One of my nephews messaged today because he’s coming home next month and wanted to let us know. By “coming home,” I mean his childhood home in Trenton NJ, which is a mere 500 miles from us, his Maine family, rather than roughly 7,200 away in China where he has been living and working for the last few years. Since he will be so close, even for just a few weeks, he would like to come and see us, catch up on all the news, and share his own. He wants to rest and play, explore and share good conversations with us over a glass of not-so-great wine.

My nephews have spent two weeks nearly every summer of their childhoods here in Maine with their extended family. For many years they came with their parents; a happy, crazy, hazy, lazy time in August. Now that they are all grown, they still come up as often as they can, separately but with the addition of friends, girlfriends, and partners. I love that even as adults, or maybe especially because they are grownups, with grownup lives, they still think of Maine as a place for R&R, a place where they can shrug off their heavy adult coat and live unburdened for a short time.

It’s a wonderful feeling to know that your home and/or presence is a comfort to others, a sanctuary and a place to recover from the demands of an unforgiving world. There are so few places in this world where there are no expectations. Most of us wear a mask at times, even those among us who value authenticity and prickle internally at a disingenuous atmosphere or situation. There are social norms to conform to though, and hoops to jump through, and it can be exhausting, even for the strongest of the strong…maybe especially for them.

When the winds of adulting have left you battered you to the point of bone-weariness, isn’t it so comforting to know that there is a harbor of love beckoning you home, a place where you are cherished and loved, fluffed and puffed? Not unlike a child whose  mittens dangle reassuringly from a string around his shoulders and whose hood is tied securely and lovingly by his mother who is careful not to pinch when zipping him up, its such a safe feeling to know that there is a place where you can go to be protected from the elements, and feel the lavish heaps of care, attention and protection.

I hope that everyone who reads this has a place like this, maybe even several places, just like my nephews. A place where you never knock before you come in, and don’t have to text first to say you’re going to stop by. A place that the owners face will light up when they see you. A place where you leave your social mask at the door and slip into your authentic-self slippers, which have been left for you by the door from your last visit. A place where the people love it when you brag about your accomplishments a little, and feel genuine joy and pride for all that you’ve done out there, and you never feel embarrassed to tell them the compliments others have paid you, because you know they truly enjoy hearing it. A place where your favorite foods are prepared in your honor and it isn’t awkward at all if you take a quick nap on their couch after you eat. A place where you can feel yourself paradoxically unplug, yet recharge. A place where secrets are told and kept, and when you share the darkest parts of yourself; the things that you’re ashamed to say but long to tell, you do, because you know the ugliness will dissipate in the light of their eyes. A place where the fire is warm and the hearts are warmer and the burdens you lay down at the door when you entered this place are still there waiting for you by the door, but they are curiously lighter than when you came. But wait, they’re actually not any lighter, it’s just that your arms are stronger, and your mind is clear. Your gait is determined and your spirit refreshed. The world and its demands are still waiting for you, yet you now welcome the challenge; buoyed, bolstered and wrapped in a protective bubble of unconditional love.

I am thankful to have such places to go here on earth, and even more grateful to be this person for a few people, but to me such a place is Heaven. I’m not talking about streets of gold and angels with harps kind of heaven, I’m talking about Home. I’m talking about wearily trudging up to Jesus’ cozy house, dropping my burdens by the door, entering without knocking and seeing him to turn to me, delight on his face. I’m talking about sipping coffee with him while we eat warm cinnamon buns and I talk about all the things on my heart. I’m talking about seeing the love in his eyes, as he nods and say “I know,” and I know that he does. I’m talking about taking a quick nap on his couch while he covers me with his softest blanket. I’m talking about waking so refreshed that I’m ready to go back out there.

He’ll wave as I go of course, and even though I’ll have a lump in my throat because I know I can’t live there yet, I can visit anytime. And as time goes by and I pick up more and more bags of worldly burdens, the heavier it all becomes. And just when I think I can’t go any farther, I find a love note that He tucked in my pocket while I napped. The Word is weightless, yet sinks into my heart, and a curious mix of strength and softness surround me. The power of His Word will sustain me until that day- when dirty, tired and hungry I again trudge to His house and, without knocking, and knowing He will turn and smile, I enter into sweet and eternal rest (with a little bit of fun and adventure of course, because after all, this IS Heaven I’m talking about!).

*Don’t or can’t believe this? Is this too much of a fairy tale for you? It’s true, it’s all true and it will set you free. Questions? Comment below or PM me!

 

 

 

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Step into the light

Posted on by Susannah Warner

It’s you…

You robber of joy, you stealer of laughter. You’ve taken our peace, that’s what you’re after.

You’ve stolen my love, taken him away again, and replaced his smile, with anger and pain.

You took our hope, you’ve stolen his light, you made him believe that life isn’t worth the fight.

You inject us with strife, what slick lies you weave, you seek to destroy, hoping one of us leaves.

But, oh… once again, you’ve overplayed your hand! Through the havoc you wreak I understand…

That’s it’s you…the accuser, the liar, the thief; not my husband, not our lives, it’s not even me.

For those who’ve felt the crush of bipolar, and for the loved ones still standing when the heaviness takes over,

only you can know, how isolating it feels, when the blanket of oppression so stealthily steals.

But, take heart my love, and for all those who suffer, you will stand again, and fight the blackness that hovers.

For it IS a battle, we who fight illness know, how tenacious it is,  it doesn’t easily go.

Yet, the Light is coming, hold on a little more…See? here He comes, through the open door.

He bares our weariness, heartbreak and stress, beckons us to Him, so we may finally rest.

So, don’t worry, my sweet, it will be alright, take my hand and together, we’ll step into the Light.

 
The people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.
Matthew 4:16

 

 

 

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God and Softball

Posted on by Susannah Warner

I wrote this piece over a year ago, about our church softball team. I’m not sure why I did, but it was prior to having a blog and I guess needed some creative outlet for how I felt. I gave it to my mother to read, who promptly gave it to my Pastor, who asked if he could put it the book he was writing at the time about the homeless shelter. I agreed and thanks to his book, I actually was published and got to see my name in print, although looking back now, I inwardly cringe at the quality of the writing. However, the sentiment is the important thing and I wanted to share it. Here it is…

Trinity has a softball team. Although a church softball team is not unusual for many churches, for a homeless shelter this may seem a bit ridiculous. Most of the players we have had on our team do not have a job, a home or even a bed to call their own, so why would God think its a good idea for them to run around a softball field, chasing balls and swinging bats?  Maybe because he loves us and wants us to have fun and because he knows that not every person who is lost will find their way into a church. He seeks us out and comes to where we are and so, he uses the things that we love to draw us to him. Never this has been more evident to me, than with our softball team this year.

In previous years, we have had plenty of players. Usually, 15-20 young men show up to our first practices, some with sneakers and athletic skills, many with cigarettes, most with the energy and bravado of youth but none with a bat, ball or a glove. The team is unique in that the players come and go throughout the season, as some find jobs or get their “vouchers” for housing and others come in. Someone who might have been a home run hitter and star left fielder one week, might be gone and could be replaced by a man who has never played the game but who wants to be a part of a team or maybe just wants to get out of the shelter for a bit. Because our team is so fluid, we have not had a winning track record by any means. Trinity has always been known throughout the church league as a “bad news bears” sort of team. The kind of team that cheers not when we have won a game, but for when we have not lost too badly. For this reason, and because we are disadvantaged in many ways, the league commissioner and other teams have been very kind to us. One team allows us to use their field as our “home-field” and games are almost always scheduled there for us, as transportation can be a problem, sometimes requiring multiple trips to and from the shelter or coordinated efforts on the part of the non-residents to bring the players back and forth. We have also been given bats and catchers equipment, and one time, a player from the other team brought over two pairs of cleats. For the man who was wearing work boots at the time, as that was all he had, this was quite a blessing!

This year was a little different. For some reason this spring, there seemed to be far fewer young men at the shelter, a wonderful thing except when it comes to a softball team. Determined to have a team, my husband searched outside of the church to recruit some people from our town to play. He knew of a group of young men who enjoyed playing softball so much that they organized a pickup game every Sunday. However, these games did not always end well as the participants were at times “three sheets to the wind” and disagreements and fights often ended the play abruptly. Several of these guys were excited about the prospect, even though they were warned that this was a “Christian league” which would not tolerate drinking, swearing or smoking on the field and that weekly church attendance was a league rule. We didn’t worry about them following any of the rules except the last one, as at least one of the guys was overheard saying, “church would probably catch on fire if I went in.” We shouldnt have worried though because God provided the answer for us. Of course he did!

One of the guys who was recruited was a huge red-head, named Scotty, who was 6’6,  280 pounds with size 18 feet!  Despite his hulking appearance, he was an encouragement to all and was never hard on anyone when they missed the ball except himself. He was having a rough game one night, early on in our season. He missed a ball he thought he should have been able to catch and was upset with himself. Because of his competitive nature, the next time the ball was hit to left field, he ran and dove over a fence in an attempt to catch it. The fence tripped him up and this big guy, with all that weight, landed on his side and on top of the fence, nearly impaling himself on the spikes.  We all ran over when he did not get right up. We found him struggling to breath and in obvious pain. He was helped off the field and the decision was made to bring him to the hospital to be checked out. My husband ran to get our jeep to bring to the field as it was a long walk to the parking lot. While we waited, I asked if we could pray for him. “yes please, anything” he said, as we gathered around and laid hands on him. We finished as my husband arrived with the jeep and they went to the hospital. We continued on with our game, although we missed Scotty and wondered how he was doing. Later that night we heard that he had been discharged and that nothing was broken. We were relieved to hear this, but a few days later we heard from his point of view what had happened. He said that he was sitting on the stretcher in the ER, in pain and struggling to breathe, with what he was positive were broken ribs, when suddenly he felt the presence of God. Immediately, the pain was gone and he could breathe normally. He knew that God had healed him and from then on, he started carrying a pocket bible with him.

As happy as we were about Scotty, we were concerned about the fact that many of the players were not going to church. This had never been a problem in the past, as most of the players lived at the church. Now, we were saddled with the task of telling these excited guys that they either attend church or they couldn’t play. Although we knew we needed to be respectful of the league rules, this seemed like a lose/lose scenario. We needed them in order to play, and more importantly, they were being exposed to the love and mercy of God, all while having a lot of fun. My friend, our scorekeeper, and I were discussing this quandary when she said, “too bad we couldnt bring church to them, you know, like a bible study.” What a perfect, God-given idea! Excited by this, she contacted one of the church’s elders, a man who also stepped in to play with us when we needed an extra player, and he graciously agreed to help us by leading the bible study. We told the guys that we would now be having bible studies before games, and if they wanted to play, they had to attend. No one balked or complained, in fact this information was greeted with quiet acceptance.

Before our next game, the whole team sat in the shade, lined up against the back of the dugout like good little soldiers. We shared Bibles that I had borrowed from the church and helped each other find the scriptures. We took turns reading, even one man who said “I’ll try, but I’m not that good at it.” All 12 of us, including 2 from the shelter, listened quietly as God, through the message, brought Saul to life, with encouragement that no matter what you have done, you are never too far gone for God. Throughout those 10-15 minutes, everyone was quiet, focused and listened intently, taking all the information in. After the final prayer, everyone jumped up, ready to play our game, but Scotty seemed stunned and was overheard several times that night saying, “I can’t believe this! My mind is blown!” To top off the night, we actually won that game and took celebratory pictures after.

Luke 19:10

For the Son of Man came to seek and save those who are lost.

Since that time, we have continued with bible studies before games. The players accept this and no one complains, from the 19-year-old, fresh out of high school to the 55-year-old grandfather. Jesus came to where these people were, and because of that, they have been touched. We were given the freedom to observe the spirit of the law, rather than the letter of the law, and in turn, seeds of hope were spread. Scotty still carries his pocket bible around and has been known to spontaneously start reading aloud, especially from Psalms. He is the first to remind us that we need to pray after practice, even leading the prayer once, after which he said, “I’ve never done that before and I was so nervous!” Oh, and our team? We won more games that year than in all our years as a team combined. Of course we did.

 

Afterword: Originally published in the second of two books written by Pastor Richard Berry about the many miracles happening at Trinity Evangelical Free Church and Homeless Shelter, available on Amazon.