If Jesus walked into your church this Sunday morning…
I know, you think He is already there, we all do…
What would Jesus tell you He DID NOT LOVE about what was happening?
What would Jesus tell you He LOVED about what was happening?
Los
PS. It’s ok church staffers, you can be anonymous…
So as I am helping craft the worship experiences at Catalyst with Brad and team, I think it’s important that we include songs in the worship sets that are currently connecting with your churches…
What songs are the songs that your people sing the loudest to?
What songs are connecting right now?
Not your favorite song…but THEIR favorite songs…
Talk to me…
Los
She’s been around the ragamuffinsoul.com community for years. My friend Anne Jackson’s second book, Permission to Speak Freely – Essays and Art on Fear, Confession and Grace releases today. I’ve asked her to share one of the essays from her book with you. Anne decided to share seven essays on seven different blogs, this being the third. For the rest of the essays, check out the links at the end.
Anne is also giving away a copy of her book to two ragamuffin readers, chosen at random, on Friday. So answer the question at the end and leave a comment to be entered to win.
You can pick up a copy of the book here.
My dad “resigned” in April of my sophomore year. Months went by, the
summer passed, and I thought maybe, just maybe, we’d end up staying in
Abilene. After all, this was the longest we had lived anywhere. I
began my junior year, was doing great academically, and had started
playing basketball again after hurting my knee the year before.
The only two people I trusted in the world were there—my best friend,
Julie; and the object of my first starry-eyed romance, a senior named
Nathan, who worked at IHOP and made the most amazing cherry cokes for
me.
A month or two into my junior year, my mom got a job offer to teach at
an elementary school in Dallas.
It was time to move.
Leaving Abilene meant leaving Julie and Nathan. And leaving Julie and
Nathan meant leaving a hole in my heart bigger than the state of
Texas.
The first sixteen years of my existence had included church, farming,
basketball, and more church. Before moving to Dallas, Abilene was the
largest city I’d lived in, and with three Christian colleges and a
church on every corner, it was just about as full of Churchianity as a
place could get.
Dallas was different.
Sure, there was still a church on every corner, but on the highways
were strip clubs, big malls, and more billboards per square mile than
I’d ever seen in my days living in West Texas. There were more than
four radio stations, and many of them used words I had never heard
before.
My dad was markedly depressed and withdrawn, and our family was pretty much
financially ruined. When I enrolled in school, I learned that since I
had been on an honors track my first two years of high school, I had
more credits than a typical junior.
My school counselor informed me if I dropped out of the honors program
and stuck to the regular track, I could graduate as a junior that
year. And if I graduated as a junior, that meant I could move out and
move back to Abilene, back to Nathan (and Julie, too, of course). If
all went as planned, I would graduate a couple of months after my
seventeenth birthday.
This new high school was enormous: well over five hundred kids in my
grade and over two thousand on campus. And it was certainly more
diverse than Abilene. Girls in the orchestra would make out in the
bathrooms, and there were boys who wore makeup and had various body
parts pierced.
We didn’t go to church anywhere. We tried a few times, but it was too
painful—for my dad, because he saw someone else in the pulpit living
out his dream, and for my mom, because she projected her heartbreak
and lack of trust on the members of whatever church we visited.
Even though I had officially told God I wanted nothing to do with Him,
the culture shock of my new territory drove me to find comfortable
space. I got a job working at a Christian bookstore down the road
(aside from seminary students, there’s nobody more knowledgeable about
Bibles and Christian products than a lifelong preacher’s kid).
At the bookstore, we got a poster to hang in our window for that
year’s “See You at the Pole,” an annual event where students gather
around their school’s flagpole and pray. At my school in Abilene, I
was one of the leaders every year. I wondered if my new school was
participating, because I hadn’t seen anything about it.
I checked around and found out that nobody had ever conducted a “See
You at the Pole” at my new school. After making some calls to some
churches and sending e-mails to some pastors, I tracked down a local
youth minister who said he had some material I could use to start it
up and advertise it.
Because we didn’t go to church anywhere and he wasn’t my youth pastor,
we arranged to meet at a local Wal-Mart so he could hand off the
posters and leader’s kit. My mom drove me to the store, and I waited
for him in the food court. He showed up, looking barely old enough to
be called a pastor, wearing a ball cap. We sat down to go over the
material.
It was going to be difficult to get momentum going because the event
was only two weeks away, but I tried my best. Nervous that nobody
would show up and I’d look like an idiot rocking out to the latest DC
Talk album and praying by a flagpole alone, when the morning of the
prayer time approached, I stood off to the side to see if anyone even
came close.
Nobody did.
So I went on to English class, once again certain that my decision to
leave my faith behind was a good one.
A couple of days later, the youth pastor called to see how things went.
And then he asked me over to his place to watch a movie.
——–
What about you? Did you move a lot growing up or did you stay in the same place?
For the first essay, visit Don Miller’s blog here and follow the chain…
For the next essay, visit Pete Wilson’s blog here.
My new house does not have internet yet.
It would be difficult tonight.
Rescheduled for Wednesday…
Same time.
Until Ten…
How can we pray for you?
Los
We have a church.
Soul City Church.
It was instrumental in bringing a transformational mindset into my family and marriage. We would sit on Jarrett and Jeanne’s sofa for hours and weeks and months talking about how to live out this new way of thinking about church and the Gospel.
Last November I wrote this about our hearts for the city and living downtown and ministering 7 days a week.
The good news is that we are still doing that.
That bad news is that it won’t be in Chicago.
To keep it short…
The Whittakers are in a season of life that looks somewhat similar to a tornado.
Yes we are tornado chasers.
You know that and we know that.
But after this summer we took a good hard look at our family, marriage, kids, and life and decided that it would not be in the best interest of our ethos to move to Chicago right now. Financially, mentally, physically, and emotionally it would be inching us closer to an unhealthy place than we feel comfortable inching towards.
Notice I left Spiritually off that list.
That is because what I experienced in those months together with our Soul City Church family here in Atlanta grew me more spiritually than I have grown in years. Lots of years. This is where our decision sucks. We were being shepherded by 2 of the greatest pastors we have ever known.
Chicago has NO idea what they have just acquired in The Stevens Clan.
So this is where our spirits are heavy. To lose that spiritual community is tough.
So we are pulling in tight to get that back.
So where are we?
I’ve been all over this summer.
Our family based out of California from May until last week.
Just because I was touring so much.
Now we have come back to Atlanta and moved from the burbs to DOWNTOWN Atlanta.
Grant Park.
I Can walk to the zoo and to Turner Field. I had more neighbors welcome us in one day than in 2 years in East Cobb.
It’s just the way of these urban trekkers.
It. Is. Awesome.
So we shall bloom here for the time being.
Please keep Soul City Church in your prayers as God is OBVIOUSLY listening.
The amount of favor He is showing that community is AMAZING.
From their new worship gathering space to the people He is sending.
Keep praying so He can keep listening…
So Atlanta…The Whittakers are back. You will see me around Buckhead, Crossroads, West Ridge and the like…
And the fact that there is a bus stop right outside my house is music to my ears.
MARTA…It’s SMARTA
Thanks for praying for our journey!!!!!!!
Los
I have started a league for our community.
If you want in leave a comment and if we get 10 or under then you are all in.
If we have 10 or more then we will have a lotto to see who gets in.
Who wants in?
Los
So when you go to a conference…
A church one…
Like one to help you with your church…
What is it that you are actually looking for?
Are you looking to be “wowed”?
Are you looking to be inspired by “wow”?
Are you looking for nuts and bolts?
Are you looking for networking with other people where you are at?
This is not going to be a conference bashing thread.
I’ll kick your calloused cynical butt if you do and you will just look like a jerk.
You can be honest without showing your backside.
I’m interested to know though…
Knowing nothing can be crafted “perfectly”…Be hypothetical…
Do they do it for you?
If not WHY and HOW could they be crafted perfectly for YOU?
Let er rip…
Los
This month has been a —–(female pootch).
Or crappy…
Today I feel like cussing…but I censored my typing, although you all know what I typed, so is it really censored if I thought it?
Anyways…
The Whittakers are broke, but only in America.
The truth is we have a roof over our head, and food, and work.
So we have, as Andy Stanley calls it, rich people problems…
I know I’m not the only one having a crappy month.
We are gonna do another wonderful Ragamuffin Revival Prayer Service.
Your prayers are thick. I love watching them impact peoples lives.
Live…Online…Streaming…And for us…
For the members here ar the Ragamuffin Soul community.
This coming Monday night…930 pm EST…
Here is a view of Kyle’s view of our last Prayer Meeting…
Untitled from Kyle L Reed on Vimeo.
So let’s collect prayer requests until Monday night… Just use this blog post to collect prayer requests and we will all pray for each other live…online…
Cool?
OK. Retweet this junk and post it to your facebook pages so we can cover our tribes in prayer.
I’ll go first…
When I was a kid I…was in the Tintinnabulators.
A Og hand bell choir from Decatur GA that would regularly beat down any hand bell choir from Oak Grove Baptist or SmokeRise Baptist at any regional hand bell festival. GANGSTA.
Your turn…
Los
RAIN IT DOWN
Recent Comments