Beauty and Affliction

"But two things pierce the human soul," wrote Simone Weil, "beauty and affliction."

Sweet friends at Anna's

The words of the Christian mystic ring especially true in Nassau, where we experience such humbling beauty and such immense pain--all in concentrated time and space. Our hearts are pricked, and we are not the same again.

Having just returned from the second annual April edition of the Nassau trip, my heart is full and also achy this morning. It gets harder to leave that place each time. And although I'm so proud of our little team and what we accomplished in only three full days on the worksite, the time flew by too quickly. I find myself wishing that today could be another day for piggyback rides and plaiting hair and sharing our peanut butter.

All of life to me is generally a bold and joy-filled adventure, with the difficult stuff inspiring as much wonder as the fun. But there's something about returning from Nassau that makes the breakneck pace of my cushy Connecticut life feel a little numb--and after this trip especially, in which the company was so sweet, the work so satisfying, and the experiences so rich with meaning.

The best little team--what a privilege to serve alongside these three!
(Photo creds to our dear friend Mindy Seeley at the ALC.)

The Project
It was a joyful encounter with God this past week to watch my three teammates create.  In their own unique ways, they are each desperately creative: Kim with her big ideas and her paint, Steve with his words (which I know are always taking shape in his head, even when he's not putting pen to paper), and Jon from behind the lens of his camera.

In a place that is characterized by rubble and trash, I am inspired by the way God has been inviting us to image forth His creative presence: first with Will's garden project last year, and now with Kim's project to invite the kids to help paint the classrooms at Carmichael Church.  As our relationships in the Carmichael neighborhood continue to blossom and flourish through the years, I pray that these creative marks left on their places will shape and empower the community.  Love creates, and creativity inspires courage.  Such is our ongoing calling in Nassau, I'm learning.

My girl Kiddi washing up.

Watching excited Haitian kids sponge paint flowers on the walls of their now canary-yellow Sunday school classroom, so giddy to participate in this work, to leave their imprint on a building where the entire community gathers, my heart could have burst.  We say with God that it is good (Genesis 1:24).

The All-Saints Visit
There were so many sweet moments with the team this past week, but one I will never forget is our brief visit to the All Saints Camp. I had not been back since Ms. Moxey's passing more than a year ago. I avoided a visit last April, and was ashamed at my relief when it wasn't feasible for me to go with the students this past July. It felt scary and hard to return to this place that I love, having lost our matriarch.

But as I prepared for last week's trip, I had the feeling that maybe it was time. And how appropriately timed with Easter because Ms. Moxey lived the resurrection life more fully than anyone I have ever known. True to her nickname, which means "force of character or determination," her contagious joy, reckless love for others, and inexplicable courage displayed the presence of God with her. Tim Keller writes, "The difference between knowing Christ and knowing the power of his resurrection is the difference between knowing a person and resembling a person." Ms. Moxey not only knew but closely resembled Jesus.  And as Keller goes on to say, "Death actually moves this process on to perfection." Standing at her memorial, thinking of her influence and the power of Christ in her, a flood of emotion washed over my aching heart.

I'm forever grateful to these three compassionate souls for their grace in going with me on that first dreaded pilgrimage back, and for giving me a few tearful moments to revel in the tension of pain and beauty, the longing for Ms. Moxey in this life and the joy at knowing she is with our Lord forever. Thank you, friends!

The Sunrise
Earlier that same morning we had one of the most transcendent experiences I can remember, a stolen sunrise on Cabbage Beach that sums up the trip for me. We awoke at 5:00 a.m., eager to make the most of our last few hours on the island and jealous for one last glimpse of sun and sea. In the foggy stillness of those last minutes before first light, we made our way ungraciously to Paradise Island, racing the clock to find the perfect spot.

Cloud cover made the sunrise slow in coming. So after Jon shot the first blushed hues, we all got in the water to watch the rays unfurl their magic.

Just thinking about it still takes my breath away: The peaceful calm of the deserted beach. The perfect chill of the water and the subtle fierceness of its enveloping waves. The clouds becoming pinker and more saturated with each untainted moment. The quiet conversation about Jesus and life and beauty. And finally, the magnificent tangerine sun coming up giant and full, so compelling we couldn't take our eyes away. It was all so beautiful, it made my heart hurt.

With calm, easy strokes, our two bold swimmers made their way back to the beach to snap some photos and then out to us again in the water, laughing and carefree.  As I watched Kim and Stephen swim in the glow of that sparkling light, I couldn't help but think of the limitless possibility their young lives hold. Their college choices may still be uncertain--but they will change the world, those two. Kim with her diligence and organization and her ability to make plans come together so effortlessly. And Stephen, like his namesake the martyr, with his inspiring words and boldness to speak about God's goodness.  I'm so proud of them and so thankful for the ways in which their hearts have been pierced for the things of God: His creation, His people, His beauty, His participation in suffering.

Fortunately for us, and for our Haitian friends with all their suffering and all their joy, the sunrise reminds us: "His mercies are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness!" (Lamentations 3:23).

We do not want merely to see beauty... we want something else which can hardly be put into words- to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it. 
- C.S. Lewis

Our good friend and member of the ALC family, Kevin, was a godsend to us! He also painted the dove on the wall.

On swollen knees, community, and the God who heals

This week, I had a doctor's visit with a physiatrist from the Walnut Hill family.  I've had chronic pain and swelling in my knees for ten years, and to be honest, I had pretty much ignored the obvious signs that something was wrong.  In hindsight, I'm 26 and relatively healthy--so I should really be able to jump my horse, go for a run, or play some light tennis without my knees swelling up to the size of saucers.  As I was telling my doctor about my symptoms, he cracked a joke about how people who let these things persist for say, ten years without seeing a doctor, are pretty delinquent.  I then had to admit to him (rather sheepishly) that no, I hadn't been to see a doctor about my problem since it first showed up when I was 16.  Oops.

The good news is that with physical therapy, nutritional supplements to boost my joints' ability to repair themselves, and maybe some ugly old lady shoes from the podiatrist, the problem (stemming in an alignment issue with my hips and my flat feet) should be corrected in time.

The whole thing got me thinking, though.  I mean, I'm generally a lot more disciplined about my spiritual health than I am about my physical health.  But in both arenas, there is sickness I ignore at times.  I want to believe in my own self-sufficiency.  I want to believe there's nothing wrong.  I live on the surface of things instead of in reality sometimes. 

#prettydelinquent

At the heart of it--if I'm really honest with myself, and with you, dear reader--I don't believe the gospel.  Ouch.  That is tough to write.  But here's how I know it: If I really believed that Jesus is after Restoration, if I really trusted that he came to redeem me, body and soul, then I would jump at the chance to be healed.

This idea that our bodies are of secondary importance to our souls smacks of the Gnosticism the Early Church battled.  God has created us as people with bodies, after all.  Christ came to us in a body.  And therefore, God cares very much about our bodies and what we do with them.

I confess that it is difficult for me to believe that healing in my body is oh-so-connected to the gospel.  That is why I've ignored my swollen knees for ten years.

Last night, I was at a worship gathering at my friends the Mancinis' house.  As I tried to get settled on the floor of the living room, I was suddenly hyper-aware of the pain in my knees.  It's nothing new for me to have to switch positions every two minutes because of the discomfort caused when I sit cross-legged--but for some reason, I was suddenly aware of how abnormal that is at my age.  (There is something powerful about finally, finally voicing our need.) 

After we sang six or eight songs and lots of people prayed about a variety of things, I confessed my brokenness before my community--the group of college students and 20-and-30-somethings present.  After I shared my story and prayed thanking God for his grace to me even when I ignore my own need, my friends laid hands on my knees and began to pray.  They prayed for God's Kingdom to break out in my body.  For God to do a miraculous work.  For faith that we would believe in Him as the Able Healer.
 
And an amazing thing happened: although my knees are still cracking and my hips are still misaligned, the pain is gone!  I can kneel.  I can sit cross-legged.  I was even able to ride today, short stirrups and all, with no discomfort.  He is able.

Someone prayed last night regarding Luke's account of the paralytic whose friends lowered him through the roof to get him in front of Jesus.  I feel a lot like that man, who was healed through the faith of his friends.  Community is a beautiful thing.

I gather that I will still need physical therapy, and the vitamins, and maybe even the ugly shoes to restore my body to its proper order.  {{thank you, Father, for the way your healing can come in practical, everyday ways!}}  But I'm praising God today for the reminder that when we call out to Him, He is faithful to answer us.  The physical healing I received this weekend is a signpost to me of a spiritual reality.  In the face of our delinquency, God is merciful.  He meets our brokenness with boundless grace.

Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.

Matthew 7:7

Hunkering Down for Irene

It seems crazy to be bracing for a hurricane in Western Connecticut, but that's exactly what I'm doing here in Bethel. The experts are saying that even though Irene is only a Category 1 storm, she's about 300 miles wide and could really wreck havoc on parts of New York and New England. They've even evacuated parts of New York City, which is just 70 miles west of where I live.

Something about this experience is conjuring up memories of my sophomore year in college, when Katrina hit the Gulf Coast. Even though we were states away, things were tense at the University of Richmond. My good friend Megan's dad was missing for days on end after he went back in to New Orleans to search for friends, and we received several displaced Tulane students for the semester. I know that I'm in about as much danger now as I was that fall in Richmond (i.e. none), but there's still something about these experiences that makes me realize how powerful are the forces of God's creation.

I don't typically get worked up about the weather (other than to turn my nose up at the winter months, that is), but I have to admit, it's a little eerie here! The streets are crowded, and grocery stores, gas stations, CVS, Ace Hardware--everywhere in Bethel--are all overrun with people rushing out to get last minute essentials to weather the storm.

I brought everything in off my porches:



And I'm even bracing my windows here on Greenwood Ave. (does my renter's insurance cover hurricane damage?!):


There's something about the whole experience that is just a little spooky. I find myself humming the Laura Hackett song I've been kind of obsessed with this summer:

when I am afraid I will trust in You
when I'm overcome I will cling on to the Rock
that is higher, He's higher
the Rock that is higher
...oh for there is no peace of mind
outside of truth in Christ

I'm headed to our Saturday evening service, which is replacing all our weekend services because of Irene, to proclaim that truth in community on behalf of New England. Good stuff! Then I'm "evacuating" to my friends the Whites' house for camaraderie and most certainly some good food.

More updates later, provided power and internet hold out.

Hello From Nassau, Bahamas!

Our Walnut Hill Youth team of 17 students and four adult leaders arrived here safely on Sunday morning. I know it sounds like we're really suffering for the Kingdom here in the Bahamas, but I promise--this is NOT an easy trip! In fact, out of our five WHY Summer Trips, this is the one we reserve for the most mature students because of the conditions and the emotional content.

The team has been amazing. The students are meshing so well, serving the kids at Carmichael Evangelical Church with big-hearted enthusiasm, and grabbing hold of some deep spiritual truth in the process. I'm so proud of our students and so humbled to be their leader!

Here are some pictures and a video from the week so far!

Over the next couple of days, please pray for:

-the team as we process our time here. We've had some amazing time together as a team worshiping, talking about Scripture, and asking tough questions about God's justice in the world. Please pray that each student would be open to what God wants to show him or her this week, and that each one would walk in greater boldness with the Lord.

-the safe return of Pastor Joseph, who has been in Haiti this week. We were hoping to make it to church at Carmichael for the Wednesday evening service tonight, and can only go if the pastor returns this morning on schedule!

-our students as they have the opportunity to go to All Saints Camp and visit with residents living with AIDS. It's looking like everyone from our team will have a chance to go! But visiting with the residents is heavy--so pray that our students will be able to process this well.

-our last two days of VBS. Wednesday is typically the toughest day of this trip--will you pray that every team member would have an extra measure of energy and physical strength as kids tug on their hair and ride on their backs?

-our time as a team on Friday and Saturday. Please pray that it would be fruitful time spiritually and that we'd have fun together as a team!

-the church we're with whom we're serving. We value the partnership with a local church here in Nassau so much, and it was encouraging for me yesterday to speak with Madam Joseph at length about what God is doing here. Please pray that he would continue to raise up Haitian leaders and that He would give the church favor in meeting the needs of the community.

Grace and peace!

Chelsea

Let them give glory to the LORD and proclaim his praise in the islands.

Isaiah 42:12

When Kids Hurt: Parenting Class for Moms at WHCC

One of the "assignments" I'm most excited about this semester at Walnut Hill is a parenting class our team is helping to teach for the morning women's ministry, AM/FM.

Maybe it seems a little presumptuous for a 25-year-old single girl with no kids to teach a class on parenting teenagers, but I've always felt that my family's story lent itself to interacting with students AND parents. So I'm super-excited that I get to teach the week on families! And since I'm the resident "party girl" on our staff youth team, I get to teach on teen partying one week, too.
The class facilitators collaborated with our crew to choose the book: When Kids Hurt: Help for Adults Navigating the Adolescent Maze. It's a paired-down version of an earlier, more textbookish title by Chap Clark that addresses the issue of teenage abandonment and how it affects every area of a student's life. The idea is that we adults who care about adolescents (parents, youth workers, teachers, etc.) need to boldly step into a teenager's world and reverse the systemic abandonment he or she feels. It's a tall order, but one our team wholeheartedly believes in.

I commend the book--and the class (if you're a mom here in CT)--to you. We've given a copy to each one of our Walnut Hill Youth (WHY) Ministries leaders to read in the coming months, so I'm excited to see how this line of thinking will impact our ministry!

Advent Communion

Tonight is a little sad because it is my last night in my apartment before I head to Illinois for Christmas. I know, I know...it seems odd to bemoan going home to my parents' house for a week. And actually, I'm really excited about the time in Bloomington. It's just that I love Advent here on Greenwood Avenue so much! And once I head home, it'll be over for another year.

I've been thinking about Advent and how we cannot divorce it from Easter, mostly because we had been preparing for a Communion service for the last Sunday of Advent. As usual, Lauren Winner's words (from Girl Meets God) are gold:

“The waiting is meant to be a little anxious. I picture Jane Austen heroines. They are never quite sure if their intended will come. We Christians can be sure; we can rest easy in the promises of Scripture. But we are meant to feel a touch of that anxious, handkerchief-waving expectation all the same.

“The calendar tells us that all this culminates on December 25, but really the whole season slouches toward Easter…Even His birthplace takes us to the Last Supper: Jesus, the Bread of Life, is born in Bethlehem, bet lechem, “house of bread,” and at the Last Supper, He will break bread for us, and then on the Cross He will break His body. Nothing in Scripture, even the names of birthplace towns, is coincidence.”

Oh gosh, I just love that so much! Bethlehem, "house of bread." Rabbinical reading like that reminds us that God is the inventor of narrative and literary style.

Even His birthplace takes us to the Last Supper. And so it seems fitting that we would take Communion at Christmastime, which is what we did at the 6:30 service this past Sunday. At the Lord's Table, we remember that Jesus was flesh and blood for us and that He shall come again. We remember that we are family, united by that blood, which pulsed through His tiny body in the manger and poured out of Him on the Cross. We remember that Christmas is not about presents and feasting and jollity, but about a King who came to die in order that His Kingdom might be ushered in.

As I've thought on these things, the Christmas hymns that mention the Cross have become so precious to me. Not many of them do, when you really stop to listen. But I've been loving "What Child is This" the past couple of days (particularly Sarah Story's rendition--you can get it for free from Noisetrade.com), as well as one that's new to me from Red Mountain Church--it's called "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silent." It's particularly poignant in thinking about the Lord's Supper.

King of kings, yet born of Mary,
As of old on earth He stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture,
In the body and the blood;
He will give to all the faithful
His own self for heavenly food.

This Christmas, may you rejoice in the One who came and died a real, fleshly death for you.

At Home on Greenwood Ave (or, Nesting for Single Chicks)

Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Romans 12:13

Just a little more than a year ago I moved into my apartment on Greenwood Avenue. It may sound shallow, but this little home has been one of the blessings I've taken the most delight in this past year. There is something so sweet about this spot God has carved out for me.

Before I moved to New England, I always said that I'd NEVER live alone (kind of like I said I'd NEVER live North of the Mason-Dixon Line again--God must really get a kick out of disproving my bold statements!). But living alone has honestly been such a good thing for me here in Connecticut. It has meant that I'm able to come home from 12-hour days of ministry and really rest. It has meant that I can easily host Bible studies and small groups in my home. And it has meant that I can make my home a safe haven for girlfriends who need a spot to land for an afternoon or for the night.

I'm kind of amazed at how far I've come in "nesting" in just a year. Sometimes it freaks me out a bit...like "ohmigosh, what am I doing buying furniture and hanging pictures and settling in?" I'm a single girl, after all, with lots more adventures to be had before I get tied down to a house full of stuff. But I think it's important to nest, to create a space that feels like home, a place where one can offer hospitality.

The passage I've claimed over and again in seasons of singleness is from Isaiah 54:

"...more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband," says the LORD. "Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords and strengthen your stakes. For you will spread out to the right and to the left."

Isaiah 54:1-3

I want this little home to be a tent where the curtains are stretched wide and many can be blessed! I'm learning that hospitality like that has to be practiced, as Romans 12:13 suggests. Sometimes it means cleaning multiple days per week, or doing extra dishes, or being more thoughtful about how I stock my pantry. Sometimes practicing hospitality means saying "Come on!" (that's a Southernism that just exudes gracious hospitality) when I'm tired and I just want to put on my PJs.

So I'm strengthening my stakes here. And if it's only for a little while, well then, that's a good reminder that this life is just a shadow of Home anyway.

Here's a virtual tour for those of you who live far away:

Front porch (facing Greenwood Ave.), circa summer 2010.
Kept the plans alive all summer, only to over-water the fern upon bringing it inside for the winter. RIP, love fern!

I love my Charlotte chest from Pottery Barn...it was delivered the week before my Grandma (Charlotte) Russell went on to that true Home.
Much of my bedroom decor (including bed linens, below) came from my favorite boutique in Franklin, Tenn. I heart Lulu! The bird-themed shadow box above my nightstand holds a picture of my late grandparents and me at a wedding.
It only took three trips to CT for Mom to help me get my built-in bookshelf wallpapered! Didn't she do an amazing job?! I love it!
Have I mentioned I'm obsessed--OBSESSED--with my bedding? Made by Taylor Linens and purchased in Nashville. A total splurge, but worth every penny!
My living room is the hub for lots of girls' ministry events!
Probably my favorite piece of furniture. Tons of surface area, perfect for writing/studying, plus a huge drawer with cute little compartments!