“Wait, are you with a church, or are you just being human?”

Her question caught me a bit off-guard.  I responded with an awkward, “well, I would have to say it’s both.”

Her name is Linda.  She’s a beautiful woman.  Her eyes were crystal clear and green, and she had impeccable teeth.  You know, the kind you see on toothpaste commercials.  Linda is kind, polite and articulate.

And Linda is homeless.

I saw Linda a few weeks ago at Burger King in Wickenburg.  I go there most Wednesday mornings to talk with my mom on Skype.  She was sitting outside when I got there, but moved inside as the morning went on due to the heat.  I had finished talking with mom, so it was time for me to go.  I walked out to my car, and I caught an older gentleman walking quickly from his car back inside, giving Linda some cash before swiftly returning back to his vehicle.  She seemed shocked and grateful.  I was excited to see someone have compassion for her, and yet I was sad to see no conversation take place.  Perhaps he had somewhere he needed to be at shortly.  I had some time still.  So, I walked back inside.

She was putting all of her belongings in one of the corner booths inside, which included several plastic grocery bags filled with odds and ends she had probably gathered along her travels.  I excused myself as I walked towards Linda, hoping not to scare her.  I asked her if she would like some food.

“Why would you think that I would need food?”

“Well, I kinda feel like you do” I said, hoping to God that I didn’t insult her.

“Yes, I would like some food very much.”

So, up to the front we went.  Before we got to the register to order, she asked me the question I referenced first:

“Wait, are you with a church, or are you just being a human?”

She wanted to know if my kindness had an agenda, I guess.  Perhaps she’s encountered that before.  I gave my awkward answer and proceeded to order her whatever she wanted on the menu.  She tried to see what I would get so she could just order the same thing, and she asked me if there was a limit to this transaction.  I assured her that buying her the most expensive thing on the menu wouldn’t do me in financially, and that I just wanted to make sure she had a full meal today.

I asked her if she lived in town or in Phoenix, and she said (with a smile) ”Honey, I’ve been everywhere…more places than you could imagine.”  I told her I was here most Wednesday mornings, and that I would love to get her another meal and hear her story.  Besides, everyone has a story. I wanted her to know that I didn’t have an agenda.  Her story is important.  There’s a reason why she’s wandering around with all her belongings in hand.  What happened in her life?  Divorce?  Economic hardship?  Addictions?  Illness?

I haven’t seen Linda since that day a few weeks ago.  I hope that I see her again so I can talk to her.  Hear her story.  I’d love to eat a hamburger with her.  I’d love to see more of Jesus in her.  Because let me tell you, her question cut right to the core of me.

As Christians, what are our intentions when reaching out to someone?  Do we have an agenda or are we just genuinely loving that person?

I’d love to say that I have reached out to people in need like this so many times that I’ve lost count, but I can’t.  That would be lying.  I do know, however, that Linda left more of a mark on me than anything I did for her that day.

And for that I am thankful.

On my worst day, I’m…

a liar.
arrogant.
self-seeking.
prideful.
a gossip.
ungrateful.
angry.
bitter.
cynical.
unsure of anything.
lacking.
two-faced.
doubtful.
intolerant.
judgmental.
entitled.
depressed.
anxious.
loved.
forgiven.
free.
clothed in righteousness.
saved.
a clean slate.
in process of restoration.
clean.

And most importantly, on my absolute worst day, it’s…

Christ in Josh Miles.

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Maybe this resonates with you in some way today.  If so, I’m blessed that he uses my mess for something good.  If not, I will take it still as an exercise in remembering the truth in the midst of circumstances.  

image: sam

This is a picture of my mind lately…

I have to be honest, here – I used to watch “professional” wrestling quite religiously.  The horrible acting, the ridiculous speeches, the leg drops off the top turnbuckle.  I couldn’t get enough of it, knowing full well the whole time that in no way was it realistic.

It was scripted, rehearsed and over-dramatized.

Enter my life, stage left.

I’ve been wrestling with myself and God about a few things lately, and it has left me exhausted.

Anyone relate?

A lot is going on in the old noggin’ lately.  It’s mostly good, though.  A pretty cool door is potentially opening, which is both exciting, risky and stressful.

I have an opportunity to record an EP in Nashville, with Jeremy Casella producing.  I’ve been asked for a while about whether or not I would ever record any of my music, but I honestly didn’t have the confidence in myself to even dream it possible.  It’s amazing what the words of someone outside of your family and friends can do.

I could, quite possibly, be recording the EP (probably six of my songs) in Nashville sometime in the near future.  This has been an increasing desire of mine within the last couple of years, as well as something that folks have asked me for.  I really feel like it’s both the right time to put forth some effort in this area of ministry and perhaps an opportunity of a lifetime.

But doubt creeps in.

Always.

I think about other better ways to spend the money.
I think about how no one will probably want to listen to it.
I think about how I shouldn’t even call myself a musician.
But I’m passionate about it.
But I know that God has gifted me.
I know that He’s stirred a desire in me.
Then I think about how no one will probably listen to it.
That I’ll have a box full of cd’s in my house to remind me of a failure.

It goes on and on.   I’m sure you know the drill.  That is, if you’re anything like myself.

Life.

Not scripted or rehearsed or fake.

This wrestling is real, and it’s taking a toll on me these days.

How about you?  What are you wrestling with lately?

Dear Mr. Prideful Self:

I am writing you to officially tender my resignation from the position of Judge of the Universe effective immediately.  It seems that I was given the title in error, and it was never mine to begin with.

Working for you, sir, has been a memorable experience. I could not ask for a more qualified person to supervise me in this role.  I have changed in many ways here and will never forget the direction in which this position has taken me.

But unfortunately, I have been offered with an opportunity that I simply cannot refuse.  I’m sure you can understand, sir.

I will be accepting a position as myself over at The Room of Grace.

A place where I can begin to become who I was created to be, which is vastly different than my current position.

And while I may be tempted to miss my friends here and all they offer, I feel that it is time for a new and real experience.

Regards,

Josh

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Perhaps you’re like me and are prone to this position as well.  I would encourage you to turn in your notice along with me today.  And tomorrow.  And the day after that.  And the day after that.  Well, you get the point.

Two weeks is an admirable amount of time to give in most settings.

Not when it comes to our heart’s surrender.

This June will mark four years of living in Arizona.

Four long years.

We made a move across the country from North Carolina in 2006 due to my wife’s employer relocating her.  Both of us were born and raised in North Carolina, where the unspoken rule is that you live and die there, living no further than 14 minutes from your parents in the meantime.  Needless to say, our move to the desert was not highly approved, especially by my family.  My wife’s is much more understanding in this area.  Or, perhaps they’re just less vocal than mine.  But I digress.

It felt, in many ways, like starting a life from scratch.  Everything changed: jobs, culture, weather, grocery stores, traffic, churches, and….

Relationships.

Most everything else has been fairly easy to adjust to.  Relationships, however, are a much different story.

It seems like most people already have the maximum number of active relationships that they can handle, and simply do not have any more of themselves to give to a new relationship.  Those with kids tend to typically interact with other folks who have kids, which makes sense to a certain degree.  So, being new to the area and having no kids has proven to create a difficult scenario for my wife and I.  Relationships that we maintain from North Carolina have expectedly become more difficult, as we either communicate via voicemail, text message or social media.  These methods of communication are all fine and well, but they do not replace real interaction with people.

And boy do we know it.

It’s easy to take on a mixture of emotions, including bitterness, loneliness, and my favorite choice: cynicism.

Community seems difficult to have and maintain.

But perhaps it seems this way because we’ve made community about what we can get and how much we have to give in order to obtain it.

It’s quite selfish, really.

There is a cost involved with community.

Time, patience, forgiveness, your own interests.

Grace.

I feel like I’ve been living this “victim” role for too long.  It’s a form a pride, after all.  It’s high time I start to engage with people where they’re at, not requiring us all to be the same.

People in real community should be stronger because of their differences, not weaker.  As believers, we should remember that we all have one thing in common for sure:  the Holy Spirit.

How about you?  What do you think?

What has been your experience in community, both successful and not successful?

image: sam