A Journal For The Journey

To Write Love On Her Arms

2006-08-01T13:42:00.000-07:00

There is a story . . . a thought . . . a movement that has begun to take hold of the Internet generation. It is recorded for the world to read by Jamie Tworkowski and is about a girl in Orlando named Renee. It is a story of tragedy . . . of despair . . . of love . . . and of hope. It is tale of true followers of Christ branching into the unknown with a love beyond them to add salt to an unseasonned world. The only drawback . . . it isn't really a story . . . a fable . . . a fairy tale . . . it is true! It is To Write Love On Her Ams and this is how it goes . . .

Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."

I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.

Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.

She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "F*** UP" large across her left forearm.

The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.

She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.

I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes.

Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.

She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.

On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.

Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.

After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.

She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.

As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."

I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.

We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.

We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.

I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember.

A Letter From Lynea . . .

2006-07-18T20:50:00.000-07:00

I greet you in the name of JESUS!!!

This is how you greet a congregation or group of people in Ghana!! I heard it so much and read it in so many e-mails, I can’t help but greet you in that way. God is so good isn’t He?? He took me all the way to Africa!! And my goodness was it a trip! I don’t even know where to begin. First let me say thank you for your support, prayerfully and financially...I never could have made it with out you!! May the Lord bless you ten fold!

God began to work the second we got off the plane....I had the opportunity to bring two large suitcases full of Bibles, children church materials, ministry tracks and other books to a pastor by the name of Chris Obioha. He is a friend of my fathers and has a church in Accra (where the airport is). He was so happy to receive the long awaited material. My dad had been trying to send him the materials but it wasn’t getting there through the mail. Praise God He was able to use this trip to drop off those much needed things!!!

I learned to sing in Twi!! I want to share with you one of the songs because the words are so simple, yet so powerful. Pastor Peter (to the right) taught it to me. It goes like this: Unto the Lord be the glory. Great things He has done. Greater things He will do..... I have not stopped singing this since I left!! The people in Ghana are so thankful for what the Lord has done, is doing, and will do in their lives. May this be a lesson to us all: There is always something to be joyful about.....especially our salvation through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Last year, Southeastern University raised $50,000 to build 5 churches and a house for Pastor Peter and his family in Ghana. Sunday morning our group split up and went to two of those 5 churches to dedicate the buildings!! I went to Foundation of Southeastern College Temple. They were so excited to have us for the ribbon ceremony. It was awesome to see how the investments of my school have opened the door for the gospel to come into those villages through the church!!! The chief told us if we raise the money to build a school, he would give us the land.

The second day in Ghana I had emailed home asking prayer because I had lost my voice and I wanted to preach. The next day I received an email from a friend reminding me to “witness always and use words when necessary!” What a wake up call!! We serve a God who is bigger than anything the devil can throw our way!! Praise the Lord that He is bigger than words and that he showed me plenty of other ways I could be a blessing and serve with out my voice. Even though I didn’t have a voice for 5 days, I was able to do the dishes, yard work, and go grocery shopping. This may seem little, but when you have to shop for almost 30 people...it can be challenging. I was so glad to be able to bless the ladies taking care of us and help out (Sister Comfort, Sister Gifty, Florence, Grace, and Abigail).

For the rest of the week, each morning we would visit a school. I was so sad I couldn’t talk!! Most of you know I am going to be a teacher soon, I tried so hard to talk to those kids. I strained my voice each morning singing songs, telling Bible stories and sharing the love of Jesus. It was very hard. I thought that if I didn’t speak, then they would never know the love of Jesus. Little did I know that the Lord had other opportunities in store. Like the village we visited, each school had needs: big and very important needs. Anwamaso Metropolitan Primary and Junior Secondary school needs books and sports equipment. This is a picture of their current library. One of the books I pulled out to look at was an Alice in Wonderland coloring book. This is what they read in their spare time. My friends and I will be collecting books and donations this fall to send to them. The gym teacher said that they have a ping pong table but not paddles or balls. He also expressed to us his desire to teach them soccer, football, and basketball, but needs balls.

So this fall we will be raising money and taking donations for the school building, books for a library, ping pong paddles and balls, and balls for soccer, football, and basketball. I have learned that words are not always needed. I thought that the only way for them to see God’s love was for me to tell them. I was wrong. Sometimes it’s the effort you invest in the lives of those who are in need. To just love people the way Jesus loves them. From helping out around the house to sending them books and building them schools, I saw first hand how the investments and relationships we have made automatically opens their hearts to the gospel. The trust that was established laid the foundation for the gospel to be preached!!

Again, thank you so much for your support and input into my life....thank you for being obedient and faithful to the message and call of our Savior!!

Love In Christ

Lynea Harrill

Reformation, Revolution, Movement . . .

2006-05-18T15:49:00.000-07:00

Monday night I attended a concert here in Lakeland. Held at The Tuesday Music Club, it featured Tim Serdynski, The Love Affair, Jonezetta and The Class of 98. While I was blown away by the music, I was even more affected by the amount of Compass Point folks that were there. Compass Point people of all ages coming out to support local artists - I was moved!

Toward the end of the evening I noticed that Aaron Marsh, lead singer for Copeland, had shown up at the show. We chatted for a minute.

As I sat through the rest of the show I thought back to a younger version of Aaron - one that hung around Lakeland not too long ago. He was just a local kid playing in a local band writing music for local fans. Then Copeland got signed, put out an album, toured the world and is a cultural influence to the 20-something generation.

Funny, I still remember the Aaron that got left at my former church after a concert and needed a lift home. I remember the Aaron that needed my help to clean up the spots on his folk's carpet that his sick dog left.

Oh, how times flies . . . but not that fast. That was only about four years ago. One minute cleaning up dog doo, the next a voice of a generation. The journey was not that far.

Aaron and Copeland are just the tip of the iceberg!

Lakeland is filled with inspiring, talented artists . . . the voices of influence . . . the voices of today and tomorrow. Many of them are finding their way to Compass Point. There are still more to come. This is an answer to personal prayer and the fulfillment of a dream.

I never wanted Compass Point to follow culture . . . to tag along behind it like some helpless younger brother trying to keep up the pace. I always envisioned Compass Point helping to create culture . . . to help shape it.

I feel we are called to be the voice that the voices of this generation turn to. I feel we are called to influence those today that will influence others tomorrow.

Compass Point should be a place for the Joons, the Tim Serdynskis, the Vows, the Love Affairs, the West Fifties, the Ellen Chastains, the Yahoos . . . the artists and arts . . . to call home. A home for spiritual guidance and grounding. a place where they can learn "to paint the light or paint what they see by the light". A place of nurturing community.

But this dream begins in our hearts . . . as all dreams do.

It starts with a small ember of reformation. A reformation of traditional notions. A reformation of legalistic attitudes. A reformation of hardened hearts and closed minds.

From there it begins to burn as a revolution. A revolution of relationships. A revolution of creativity. A revolution of encouragement. A revolution of love.

Finally, it begins to rage as a movement. A movement of influence. A movement of hope. A movement of innovation. A movement of caring.

A reformational revolutional movement of God.

Reformation, revolution, movement . . . that should be our creed . . . our mantra . . . our vision!

A Challenge To Artists . . .

2006-05-04T23:16:00.000-07:00

Recently Lou Carlozo, the Music Editor for the Chicago Tribune did an online interview where he made the following statements about Contemporary Christian Music:

"It's an outrage to me that so much "Christian" art is in fact artistically inferior crap. Why? First and foremost, I don't think my Savior, the love of my life, would want His holy name spackled onto something so ham-fisted as most "Christian" music. Talk about violating the commandment of taking the Lord's name in vain! Jesus as the marketing equivalent of Adidas. A brand name.

On a more personal note, I receive entreaties from Christian music publicists at least several times a month urging me to cover their artist because, it is implied, I am "on the team." And I've had pieces spiked in leading "Christian" music magazines because I was presumptuous enough to slam an album as being mechanical, wooden, and backward thinking.

UNTIL CHRISTIAN MUSIC STRESSES ART OVER AGENDA, IT CAN NEVER BE ANYTHING BUT SECOND RATE (my emphasis). As a music editor at the Chicago Tribune, I have a responsibility to turn my readers on to the best art out there. And as a Christian, I have an obligation to tell the truth at all costs, as I see it. If it's bad, awkward, mawkish art that Nashville keeps shipping to me like so many day-glo W.W.J.D. bracelets, what choice do I have? I would rather be the voice of one crying out in the wilderness than win the approval of any cabal that is convinced--for all the wrong reasons--that the majority of "Christian" music serves a noble purpose.

Michelangelo makes us cry by depicting the finger-touch of creation in a majestic image. Johnny Cash could break your heart by revealing the serrated edges of his brokenness. Bono makes you wrestle and challenges all assumptions that God is of the right or left wing. None of this is a "business model" to be emulated. These are ways of approaching art and life we are talking about, meant to be done with all the fear and trembling of someone trying to point the way to a higher truth while walking a narrow path.

Why does the Christian music industry so thoroughly believe that the way to do this is to TELL/LECTURE people? Maybe it has something to to with the mammon of income streams and mansion-house dreams.

For me, the true Christian artists worth emulating--including Emmylou Harris, Over the Rhine, Buddy and Judy Miller, Kate Campbell, Pedro the Lion and a Nashville rebel like Rich Mullins--they walk the walk. They SHOW us. Art before agenda. Beauty before the bully pulpit. My Lord, what a radical concept."

While his comments were directed at Christian music, my feeling is that they could be taken as a commentary of the entire Christian arts community. As a pastor, musician, artist, writer, poet and admirer of the arts, I think Lou's words are a warning AND a challenge to those of us that express our love for God artistically.

If you are a follower of Christ that God has gifted artistically, break out of the rut! Throw away the mold! Start a revolution! Begin to be the best artist you can be in order to show the world that God reveals the greatest beauty.

Mediocrity has never changed the world . . . only creative excellence!

The Gospel Of Judas . . .

2006-05-01T16:04:00.000-07:00

Over the last few weeks several topics have dominated the Christian community. One being the upcoming release of the movie “The DaVinci Code” (more on that later) and the other being the National Geographic documentary of “The Gospel Of Judas”. Both have been perceived and portrayed as direct threats to the basic ideology of Christianity. I thought maybe it was time to weigh in with my opinion – at least on “The Gospel Of Judas”. Please note that there is a lot more information on this subject that I neither have the time or patience to write. Take me to lunch to discuss this further. :-)

The National Geographic website describes the “Gospel Of Judas” documentary with the following:

“For 1,600 years its message lay hidden. When the bound papyrus pages of this lost gospel finally reached scholars who could unlock its meaning, they were astounded. Here was a gospel told from the perspective of Judas Iscariot, history's ultimate traitor. And far from being a villain, the Judas that emerges in its pages is a hero.

This volume is the first publication of the remarkable gospel since it was condemned as heresy by early church leaders. The Gospel of Judas has been translated from its original Coptic into clear prose and is accompanied by commentary that explains its fascinating history in the context of the early church, offering a whole new way of understanding the message of Jesus Christ.”

First, to call it a “gospel” is a reach - at best. While “gospel” means “story” in most modern translations, it does not in a Biblical context. A more accurate translation of the word “gospel” actually is “a story told from a first person perspective”. The “Gospel Of Judas” has never been accredited directly to Judas, but instead to a group of folks intent on smearing the beliefs of Christianity called the Gnostics. They were hell-bent on spreading disinformation about Christianity and the church with the intentions of leading people away from the Old Testament Scriptures. Factions of this group still exist today, though mostly in a more mystic, new-age religions.

When the actual codex – or book of writings on papyrus paper – of the “Gospel Of Judas” was discovered back in the 1970s it was immediately dismissed by scholars as being a nice piece of fiction. It was never believed to be an actual writing from one of the Disciples or even stories passed on from generation-to-generation from Judas. The meter of the writing, as well as many of the words used in the original papyrus writings indicate it could not have been written by Judas. It contained words that the original, true Gospels never used - however they were used by many mystical Gnostic religions of the third century AD. In fact some of the words in the manuscript weren’t even around at the time of Judas.

The First Post . . .

2006-04-12T09:47:00.000-07:00

For several months I have been praying about a way in which to communicate the things that God has laid on my heart to the people of Compass Point Church. While I had considered the medium of blogging before, I was concerned that folks not associated with Compass Point would stumble upon the blog and be confused by what they read. Then several nights ago I was awaken by the Holy Spirit and led into a time of prayer and meditation before the Father. It was there that I realized that anything He led me to say to the people of Compass Point would also be things that I could say to anyone.

My goal for this blog is steer clear of any personal thoughts, ideas or beliefs. Instead I want to convey what God has shown me through the Holy Spirit and the Scriptures. Things that will help to lead, inspire and challenge the family of Compass Point as we take this journey that God has called each of us on.

So stop by each week to see a journal for the journey.