Sabbath Day

 It's been a busy month.

Seriously busy.

Crazy busy.

We've had the beginning of our new AWANA Ministry here in Dulce. We've had the Jicarilla Apache Reformed Church's centennial celebration, including house guests and dinner for more than 150. I designed and built a stained glass window for the sanctuary. The next week, I completed a glass piece that was ordered to commemorate a young person's death. Then my parents made their first visit to New Mexico. We had a wonderful week with them, sharing our life here in Dulce.

It was a busy month. And a good month. A delight.

My parents' last day here was a Sunday. A typical Sunday for us. With a church service. Sunday school. Awana. Bible study. At the end of such a busy month, it was an extremely busy day.

And at the end of it, someone said, "You've got to be exhausted!" I was definitely tired. Then they added, "You don't even get the Sabbath Day to rest."

Two "buts" ran through my head when I heard that:

1. But, God sustains us! It's His work, after all. And He provides all the energy and strength I need to lead and follow and participate and share.

2. But we do get a Sabbath! It's not on Sunday, but we are mindful of the need for family time and rest, and we do take a day and relax. I take delight in following God in rest; resting is a delightful way to spend some time.

This is the piece I created to commemorate a young person's death. It's called "Everlasting Life," and it has many characteristics that are personally important to those mourning this person's death. It's also a fitting piece for this past month: Even after such a busy time, we are reborn to God's work through Him. He provides for us, in the midst of such busy-ness, and in the rest we can take following.

God is good.

All the time.

In every time.

Amen.

Centennial Celebration

Happy Centennial, Jicarilla Apache Reformed Church! We held our Centennial Dinner tonight. Somewhere between 150 and 200 people attended. They came from as far away as New York and from as close as next door. We ate together and shared some stories.

I gave this glass piece to a representative of the church, commemorating 100 years of service in Dulce. The circle represents the Jicarilla Seal, which has both the red clan and white clan colors, a basket-woven circle with tipis, and the shape of the reservation. I incorporated the cross and the 100 for the centennial.

Two speakers tonight really spoke to my heart. The first was a representative of the Jicarilla Apache Nation. He is an elected official, and the Nation is a sovereign nation. He spoke about the role the church has had in the community's history, both good and bad. He himself is not a member of a Christian church, and he didn't shy away from that fact.

The second speaker was a white man representing the Reformed Church of America, our denomination. He also addressed the history of the church's relationship with the Jicarilla Apache people. He, too, talked about the good parts of that historical relationship and the bad parts. He specifically brought up a couple of incidents written about by a Jicarilla Christian man: Being punished for speaking Jicarilla and forcibly cutting off his braids, both happening during this man's childhood by the Reformed Church. In his book, this man asks, "Will anyone ever apologize?"

Tonight, the white man from our denomination apologized to the Jicarilla man from our community, who was present at the celebration. He apologized more generally to the Jicarilla Apache people, saying that Jesus would never have approved such actions by His church.

I pray that a healing began with that apology. I pray that the work of the Jicarilla Apache Reformed Church will move forward to the glory of Jesus Christ, our Lord, in ways that He would approve.

Amen. And amen.

The Heart of Marriage

This design is "Become One" and is frequently ordered as a wedding gift. I've made it in many color combinations, and I love the design. I completed this particular version yesterday and mailed it off today.

It is my practice to pray for the couple getting married as I build these panels. Even if I don't know them, I pray for them as I choose and cut glass, as I put the pieces together, and as I solder the lead together to make a whole. I pray for their marriages and their relationship with God.

I have built two "Become One" pieces in the past couple of weeks; it's a popular gift item. And in addition to praying for each of the couples, I have thought a lot about my own marriage as we near our anniversary. My husband and I met on August 5th, 2007, and got married on October 16, 2007.

Yep, really.

Yes... only ten weeks and two days.

I would do it again in a heartbeat! I have never regretted our somewhat unconventional courting-time; we are very happy together. But more than that, we are a good ministry team. And that was God's plan, not ours. I had no intention of becoming a missionary on a Native reservation; I was a teacher. I didn't feel so much that God had called me to be a teacher, but it was my life's work.


When Brad and I married, I knew he was in seminary to become a pastor. I was willing to go with him to wherever God called him. I figured I would teach in the school system. My trust was in God, that He had a plan.

And He did.
                    A good one.
                                         Just not the same one I had!

First, God placed our youngest daughter in our home unexpectedly. We didn't anticipate parenting together, but it has enriched our marriage and our lives. Second, God called me to teach, but not in the public school system. He called me to teach our daughter... at home. Homeschooling our youngest has been one of the most rewarding (and most challenging!) things I've ever done.

And third, God called us to an altogether different ministry than we expected. We are truly missionaries, even though we are in the United States. We love it here, but it truly takes both of us to minister here. And this morning I read something by Henri Nouwen (from In the Name of Jesus):

"Jesus did not send his disciples out alone to preach the word. He sent them two by two."

I've read that line multiple times today. It's so very true for us. Neither of us could do this work alone, either the parenting and homeschooling or the ministry here in the Jicarilla Apache Nation.

God provided for His ministry to our daughter and to this community when He made us husband and wife. He provides in rich fellowship, in gentle leadership, and in sweet relationship... every day, in every way.

Which brings me back to glass work...

The heart of a marriage is its anchor in Jesus Christ... in the cross... in the complete work of grace which gives us a perfect example of love. That's where marriage starts,

and that's where I start soldering when I build this piece... at the very center of the cross... it's the only way to make the piece whole and stable...

...just like a marriage.

I am so very glad that God took this twice-divorced, parenting-weary, only-slightly-committed Christian worker, and grew me into a happily-married, parenting-treasuring, and deeply committed Christian worker.

Amen. And amen.

People vs. Paint

I am painting the church. The mission group that came in June began the project and painted all the high places and the windows. That's awesome! I volunteered to finish the job by painting the stucco over the summer.

Well, summer is basically gone, and I'm still painting...

I'm making progress! I am about 2/3 done. This is a bigger project than I expected because it's pretty high... and it's stucco. I mentioned that already? Oh. Well, if you've ever painted stucco, you'll understand why I'm repeating myself.

A large part of why I'm still painting in mid-September is people. See, Jesus didn't say, "Take good care of my church buildings." He said, "Feed my sheep." and "Love one another." There have been a few times this summer that I've wished He cared about His church buildings because I'd like to finish this job before our Centennial Celebration on the weekend of October 3rd.

But instead, I've stopped painting to allow our seven-year--old and her friends to swim. Being home-schooled, she doesn't have as many chances to play with friends as most kids, so I try to facilitate having friends over when I can.

And instead, I've sat down with an intoxicated man, listened to him meander through conversation about God, and prayed with him.

I've allowed the paint to dry on the brush as I interacted with a suicidal young man. Tears flowed freely when I told him that God had plans for him; he said that no one had ever said that to him before. He wasn't sure he believed it, but he's visited again, saying he felt safe here.

And instead of finishing the paint job, I've helped coach more than 50 youngsters in soccer, a game I've never played. But two more hands on the field have lessened the load for the adults in charge.

When today, instead of painting, I was chatting with my mother (whose birthday it is!), she said, "You must be frustrated by all the interruptions," I said, "Yes, sometimes, but really, people are more important than paint. This is the work God wants from me now."

And I realized it's true. If the church building is two-toned on our Centennial Celebration weekend, some people might care, but God won't. He will be happy that His people have been tended and loved. After all, He didn't say, "Make sure the church buildings look good."

1%

The Jicarilla Apache Reformed Church has been in Dulce for 100 years. One hundred years on the Rez. One hundred years of serving the Jicarilla people, sometimes serving well... sometimes not so much.

We hear stories about the history of our church regularly. This was the only church on the reservation for 50 of its 100 years. Almost everyone in the Jicarilla Nation has connections to the Jicarilla Apache Reformed Church. We've heard about how the church maintained a sanatorium during a TB outbreak. We've also heard about how the church started the first school on the Rez.

And about how the male students were forced, sometimes physically, to have their braids shorn...

About how the youngsters were punished for speaking Jicarilla... which has led to a crisis for the tribe: almost no one under 50 can speak the language. The public schools are trying to revive the language, but it's difficult to maintain when there are so few native speakers.

And roller-skating! Almost everyone recalls roller-skating at the gym.

And about how the students were required to attend church every Sunday, marched down the hill from the residences to the church building. Some remember this rather fondly, others are still injured by the coercion.

Some members of our church recall the faith of their parents and grandparents. These are very personal reflections: memories of a father's advice, being taught to sing hymns with feeling, a sense of the sure, strong faith of parents, coming to church with a beloved grandmother...

  A year ago today, we joined the journey of the Jicarilla Apache Reformed Church in Dulce, NM. We pulled up to the parsonage in our 26 ft. Penske Truck and our Subaru (pulling a kayak trailer) and started making memories here.

So far, our memories are mostly pleasant, fun, and friendly. This is the place God has called us to. This is the work He has given us to do in His kingdom. His yoke is easy, and His burden light. (Matthew 11:30)

Looking back over the year, there has been much good: baptisms, mission groups, vacation Bible school, Sunday school, Bible study, Sunday worship, a couple of yard sales, Roller skating on Friday nights, a fund-raising dinner, and more.

There have been some tough times too: early deaths, suicides, struggles with alcohol and drugs in the community, orphaned children, disease, and hardship.


I think our one year has been much like the past 99: a mix of good and bad, anchored in the faith that God has gifted. Our 1% of the Jicarilla Apache Reformed Church's history has enriched us immensely. Brad is flourishing as a pastor, and Robin has continued to work with the children of the church. Our seven-year-old frequently has guests to play after services on Sundays, in addition to playing soccer and roller-skating every Friday night at the church gym. She also has an Apache dress, sewn by one of our members, and she loves to dance the intertribal dances at pow wows.

And what of the future?

We plan to be here for nine to fourteen more years. We seek to bring hope to God's people here in the Jicarilla Nation. To serve the people here, in God's name.

God has recently called the people of our church to open the doors for a multi-church AWANA ministry to the children and youth of Dulce. The future of the Jicarilla rests on these young people finding hope in their lives. And the very best hope available is the hope we have in Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.

I look forward to seeing what God has in store for us, for His church in Dulce, and for the Jicarilla Apache people. Please pray for this ministry!

Them

Here we are again. One year and one month after Zimmerman got away with murder, literally. More than two years since 17 year old Trayvon Martin was murdered for being Black. An armed man was "afraid" of him, so he stalked him and shot him. And got away with it.

And here we are again. 18 year old Michael Brown, an unarmed Black teen, was shot and killed by police in Ferguson, Missouri, on August 9th. He was shot "more than once," and some reports state his body was riddled with bullets and left in the street.

And I sometimes shake with fear that my Black son will be shot because someone was afraid of him. That's a fear I share with millions of mothers of Black sons across this nation.

And I don't blame the protesters following Michael Brown's death. I pray they will end the violence, but I share their anger at this recurring truth: Our kids are being killed, and the murderers are getting away with it.

And, somehow, for me, this pain over our dying children is connected to the humanitarian crisis in the southern part of our nation, where tens of thousands of  "illegal immigrant" children are pouring over the border. If this were taking place anywhere else in the world, these would be "refugee children." Wouldn't they? We would look at these pictures and pity the children, point a wagging finger at the country which wouldn't admit them and care for them, and call it what it is: a humanitarian crisis.

So, why do repeatedly find ourselves watching our society excuse the racism, the hatred, the classism, the demonization, the marginalization, the pretense of "all is well" that leads to murder, deportation of juveniles in need, and a lack of punishment for those who perpetrate such ills????

 Look at the anger on the faces of these protesters... 

Look at the violence of these law officials...

Why such fear??? Because that is what these pictures show: Fear on the part of those protesting "illegal immigrants." Fear on the part of the law officials and their civilian bosses. 

Fear of those immigrant children??

Fear of those unarmed Black teens??

Yes.

And as I have written before, and will probably write again, the antidote to fear of groups of people is to know them. We fear what we do not know. Take a moment to think of your own connections. If you spend most of your time with people who look like you, who live like you, who think like you... well, to be blunt, you are probably part of the problem.

It is not comfortable, easy, or fun to get to know people from different races, economic classes, cultures, or places, but it is essential. You will not agree with them about everything; but if you agree with every person you talk to, listen to on TV or the internet, or read, you aren't truly thinking anyway.

If George Zimmerman had known Black teenage boys, he likely wouldn't have assumed Trayvon Martin was hostile. If the police in Ferguson, MO were in relationship with Black teens, they likely wouldn't have shot Michael Brown to death. If those protesting the immigrant children in the picture above had talked with those kids about their lives in their former homes, they would likely be more supportive of their need to start a new life.

And, since this blog is supposed to be about glass and faith...

Did Jesus hang out with people of his own race, class, culture, or place?? Did He turn away those who were different from him? Did He assume the worst about strangers? Did He tell us to hoard the gifts of this world?

We know the answers.

It's time to step out and try to know one another, so we aren't afraid of them. So there ARE no "them."

Seeking Approval

Sometimes I get a commission to create a piece for someone. It's quite a different experience than creating an artistic piece for myself. The piece on the right, for example, was made by a son for his mother. Each part represents something dear to them. It's not something I would've designed for myself, but it was perfect for them.

In the process of designing something specific for someone else, I have to get their approval. I do this before I build the piece, of course. Otherwise, I'd have wasted a lot of materials and time.

The design to the left is a new piece I'm working on. It is for the centennial celebration of the Jicarilla Apache Reformed Church, which takes place in October. It will hang in a window in the church building. I hope people like it, but I don't have to have anyone "approve" it because it's a gift. I have certainly taken input into the design, but the final decisions have been mine.

I found myself seeking a different kind of approval this past week; I had a sharp disagreement with some people I care very much about. As in most conflicts, there was blame on both sides, current and past blame.

I grew up a "people pleaser" for many reasons; I remember my brother telling me to take a stand before I was ten years old. He said, "You can't make other people happy. Just do what you think is right." I tried, but oh, I struggled to trust my own judgment. I still do sometimes.

So when I got in this conflict recently, I started seeking approval for my decisions. I talked with a close friend and a family member, trying to make sure I was "right" in how I handled it. Then it struck me: It really didn't matter what they thought. It didn't even matter what the people I was in conflict with thought. Or what I thought. What mattered is what God thought.

I reconsidered my actions and my speech. There were parts which did not honor God, and there were parts which did honor God. And that's the only judgment that matters at all. I would love to totally give up being a "people pleaser" to become a "God pleaser." I'm not there yet. But this realization is setting me on the right path.

Amen.