Miriam and I chatted today. As usual, she was a breath of fresh air in these lungs which long for warm summer breezes again. We were talking about Jesus' glory following the horrible cross- the humility and humanity. I mentioned Claire's analogy of spiritual gifts being delivered under the radar, like colorful wrapped presents delivered by us, the UPS guy dressed in brown. She paused with a, "There's that mention of brown associated with spiritual gifts again. It's a theme God uses to speak to me. You know my butterfly story, right?" No, I hadn't heard, but she obliged me. And now I'll oblige you.

Butterflies have always appealed to me. They draw me toward thinking
of God. I've always been most attracted to the Morphus butterfly
especially because of it's gorgeous bright blue coloring. The
amazing hue speaks to me of God's glory. Once when I was
shopping, I came across a Morphus butterfly enclosed in
glass. As I turned it over to examine the underside, I was
astonished. The bottomside of this flashing butterfly was
brown. It caused me to think of the glory of the resurrected Jesus in
the vibrant blue, and the suffering and humanity of Christ on the
brown side. Next, I thought of myself as having both sides as
well- the side where Christ shimmers and the brown underside which is the fallen
me.
Not long after, I spoke to an architect friend of mine about
the Morphus butterfly. He told me something which knocked me
for total loop. He explained that this butterfly had scales
overlapping which refracted the light in such a way that it caught the color
blue, but in actuality, the whole butterfly is really brown. Yes,
there is really nothing beautiful in me until Christ shines His light on me and
I reflect who He is back.

Miriam's story helped explain something to me which has bugged me for years.

I couldn't help but think back to a day myself when our liturgical dance choreographer told us to seek the Lord about the kind and color of garment of praise He had for each of us. I don't always come up with answers to this kind of question quickly. However,this time, I knew immediately. I spoke to my fellow dancers boldly, "Mine is brown. I see my color as hidden and muted."

The dancers tried to reassure me, "Brown? Honey, that's not right. You aren't allowing yourself to think of God's riches for yourself. The Lord has a beautiful green or blue or something bright for you." They were trying to be kind assuming I was being unkind to myself at some level.

On the other hand, I knew in my deepest heart of hearts, they were wrong, but I never knew exactly why. Today, I realized if I am in my best place of worship, it won't be me that those around me observe. It will be God's glory, and I will go unnoticed.

In taking a hard and realistic assessment of my family, I found that I do Bible with my children in homeschool, but my children may not growing in their own independent relationship with Jesus in that they don't seem pick up their Bibles or pray outside of our family time.

It's a somewhat painful realization for me, because I found great comfort as a child in seeking Jesus for myself as it was not something my family did at all. I walked alone to the church in which I had kindergarten on Sunday mornings. When our family moved while I was in fifth grade, I quickly found a ride on my own to and from the closest church. Starting in the fifth grade, I took notes on the sermon and studied madly on my own at home.

Looking over my own children, I see now I may have made the mistake of doing too much for my children and not guiding them toward more spiritual independence outside our family worship.

The best news is that it is not too late. God is so very kind and offers second, third, and fourth chances to those of us on the slower side of the learning curve.

I met with Him asking the question, "What does it mean to really be a Christian?" America, with all it's mess, is known as a Christian nation. God help us! And I have no interest in simply raising nice "Christian" children. There are already plenty of nice Christians out there giving lip service to Jesus and going to church who have no earthly or heavenly idea how to be in relationship with God.

I want to raise people with Kingdom purpose who are absolutely crazy about their King. How to accomplish this?

Here is God's brilliant answer to my heart.

A Christian life is three-fold:

I. Relationship time with God daily.
Not the time for head knowledge, but getting close and personal. Giggling, playing, having fun, running through a field, petting an animal, seeking treasure, dancing, joy all have a place in this daily intentional time with our heart set specifically on being with Jesus. Other days may be better suited for quiet resting in His arms for comfort or weeping.

II. Discipline of Study.
This may not be everyday, but Christians must seek know God better, more deeply through study of His Word. It is a spiritual discipline which may or may not come naturally, like the desire to do physical exercise or not. However, spiritual fat is far more deadly than body fat.

III. Service.
A. At home. Clanging gongs sound for those who ignore service to the ones they love most.
B. In the community. And God forbid, not just the church. The lost just may not be there.



I took these three principles and spoke with my thirteen year old son, Peace. Peace agreed that he wanted these things in his life, so together we worked them into his weekly school assignment sheet.

Though I am sure I had no business doing so, I asked Peace one day last week how he spent his relationship time with God. He didn't mind answering, "Today I prayed room to room for everyone in our family." And I've found him reading a book I bought for study, Can You Hear Me by Jersek, a book about listening to God.



And you know what else? Something is happening in this young man. Peace planned took initiative to plan something for his scout troop which he has never done before. And after a year or so of quiet sullenness, Peace is suddenly back to singing worship songs he loves around the house as he enjoys his day.

Didn't I say God is kind?

In taking a hard and realistic assessment of my family, I found that I do Bible with my children in homeschool, but my children may not growing in their own independent relationship with Jesus in that they don't seem pick up their Bibles or pray outside of our family time.

It's a somewhat painful realization for me, because I found great comfort as a child in seeking Jesus for myself as it was not something my family did at all. I walked alone to the church in which I had kindergarten on Sunday mornings. When our family moved while I was in fifth grade, I quickly found a ride on my own to and from the closest church. Starting in the fifth grade, I took notes on the sermon and studied madly on my own at home.

Looking over my own children, I see now I may have made the mistake of doing too much for my children and not guiding them toward more spiritual independence outside our family worship.

The best news is that it is not too late. God is so very kind and offers second, third, and fourth chances to those of us on the slower side of the learning curve.

I met with Him asking the question, "What does it mean to really be a Christian?" America, with all it's mess, is known as a Christian nation. God help us! And I have no interest in simply raising nice "Christian" children. There are already plenty of nice Christians out there giving lip service to Jesus and going to church who have no earthly or heavenly idea how to be in relationship with God.

I want to raise people with Kingdom purpose who are absolutely crazy about their King. How to accomplish this?

Here is God's brilliant answer to my heart.

A Christian life is three-fold:

I. Relationship time with God daily.
Not the time for head knowledge, but getting close and personal. Giggling, playing, having fun, running through a field, petting an animal, seeking treasure, dancing, joy all have a place in this daily intentional time with our heart set specifically on being with Jesus. Other days may be better suited for quiet resting in His arms for comfort or weeping.

II. Discipline of Study.
This may not be everyday, but Christians must seek know God better, more deeply through study of His Word. It is a spiritual discipline which may or may not come naturally, like the desire to do physical exercise or not. However, spiritual fat is far more deadly than body fat.

III. Service.
A. At home. Clanging gongs sound for those who ignore service to the ones they love most.
B. In the community. And God forbid, not just the church. The lost just may not be there.



I took these three principles and spoke with my thirteen year old son, Peace. Peace agreed that he wanted these things in his life, so together we worked them into his weekly school assignment sheet.

Though I am sure I had no business doing so, I asked Peace one day last week how he spent his relationship time with God. He didn't mind answering, "Today I prayed room to room for everyone in our family." And I've found him reading a book I bought for study, Can You Hear Me by Jersek, a book about listening to God.



And you know what else? Something is happening in this young man. Peace planned took iniative to plan something for his scout troop which he has never done before. And after a year or so of quiet sulleness, Peace is suddenly back to singing worship songs he loves around the house as he enjoys his day.

Didn't I say God is kind?

Our church body is moving from a high school into a new building next week. In our last service after eight years at the high school, the pastors arranged a moving transition service. He asked anyone interested to write a word describing the state of themselves when they first came to Two Rivers, and on the reverse, each person wrote a word of change which had happened in them since. I heard about this in my small group, as our leaders invited us to be a part. However, I thought, "I came a Christian. Still am. How interesting would that be?"
Sunday, without words, the participants lined the sides of the stage. Silently they stepped one or two at a time to the platform and shared the words on their poster board. Here are some I remember:

sorrowful
comforted

this from a man who just lost his wife a few months ago

bound
free

uncertain of God's love
confident in God's promises

this from a woman who has struggled through violent disease striking her child

isolated and lonely
new family

this from a true blue friend

empty
full

desparate for children
1 baby and another on the way

dead
alive

afraid
free to dance

this from a woman who danced a solo at Easter

I was deeply moved.

Then I asked God if I'd been too hard hearted in my decision not to participate? The kind answer I recieved was in the form of a question, "What would your words on the card have been?"

I gave it some serious thought and prayer. I'd come to Two Rivers after moving from a church I'd served in for most of my children's lives. I'd expected one particular thing at Two Rivers and got quite another, more painful lesson. However, I know Buck and I are better people for it. So here are my words:

searching
humbled (in the best kind of way)

The Real Deal

This blog was created to hold a space and name for this:

theshepherdscall.net

My work and my call.

Jo and I worked on our soon to be announced website for the Shepherd's Call for three hours over the phone. Afterall, she lives in Nashville- three hours away from me. Distance isn't going to inhibit our work. Now I've got butterflies fluttering about inside at the potential of our project- I mean it. I must say, I am so very proud of our work.

I dashed off the phone in time to drive Tater to soccer practice and have a run on my favorite path. I asked God, "Will the bunny be there?"
I got a very clear answer, "Not until you show your son after practice. The bunny will be there for you and your son to share."

As I stretched my thighs, calves, and quads on the grass before the run, I noticed the rich green clover mixed into the grass. "God, wouldn't it be delightful if you'd wish me luck on The Shepherd's Call with a four leaf clover?" I grinned at the silliness of my request. I don't recall ever finding a four leaf clover myself before, but my son Peace picks them in abundance.

As I leaned my head forward onto my left knee, an impossible thing caught my eye. "It can't be." But it was. A four leaf clover. A present from God to me to wish me luck. I plucked it in amazement at the intimacy I felt with Him at that moment.

"All right, God. Shouldn't there be one for Jo too?" I joked back with Him in my playful joy.
I reached for my other foot snuggled into a worn running shoe, and I could not believe my eyes. The second miraculous four leaf clover poked proudly just in my reach beyond the plastic black and powder blue tip of my toe. I snatched it up, and carefully placed both of my treasures in a safe place between the front carseats of my reliable old Honda.

I haven't explained this before, but sometimes I trust God to speak to me in the "shuffle songs" setting of my ipod, but sometimes I don't. I decided today God might just want to say more than "Good luck", and even though the first three songs in the shuffle annoyed me for various hard hearted reasons, I let God pick the songs. The theme which I gleaned from listening to God's mix turned out to be something along the lines of, "True, here are your spheres of influence reflected in these songs and those you see on the path while you run."

You might wonder, what I saw on the path besides the normal Canada geese, ducks, and a few squirrels? I saw a group of middle school boys hanging, a mom and daughter, a couple, a couple with a baby, an hispanic man, an older woman with that "teacher" look, a woman a little older than myself, and another group of local middle or high school boys and girls.

Remember, I was also looking for Jesus in the bunny in my five loops around, but he did not appear. I saw another bunny rush across the path at another location, but I could tell he was not mine, his body too long, too sleek, too grown. The still small voice reminded, "He's not the one. You'll see Jesus bunny with your son."

When I approached Tater, I heard him announce loudly twice, "That sucks!" In my book, "sucks" rhymes with other curse words and isn't permitted in the Vyne household unless it correlates with drinking through a straw. I kept my mouth shut for once, and asked Tater to collect his ball and follow me.

"Where are we going, Mom?" he asked suspiciuosly.

"I want to show you something which makes me think of you when I run." I threw as a "bone".

He hates secrets and bugged me the entire quarter of a mile, "What is it? What is it?"

I lowered my voice to a whisper"When we go around this bend, you must keep your ball in your hands and not speak a word, or you won't be able to see it."

"Mom, that doesn't make any..."

"Shhh, Honey. Trust me. You'll like this."

Consider the fact that Mr. Long Ears hadn't been there five times before that same evening, but with my new found clover faith, I knew he'd be wiggling his nose and flashing his huge black eyes when my boy rounded the bend.

Tater's eyes grew wide as he hushed out, "Mom! Is he always there? Maybe it's someone's pet that got loose. He lets you get so close. Can we take him home? Please, Mom. Please? We have a place for him."

I giggled and spoke softly, "This is his home. I don't think he'd like a cage. Besides we visit often."

When Tater got within a foot of his brown cotton ball tail, Mr. Long Ears lept back into the brush.

Next Tater and I went on a hunt for Touch-Me-Nots seed pods together. Tater worried the bursting seeds might sting when their natural "flingers" projected their bounty. The sun faded too quickly, and he never got to test his concern.

Is it trite to write the lessons learned? If so, I'll risk the goober consequences.

My Big Dad loves me deeply. I ask for something simple, and it is His pleasure to place it in my hands. God knows my past, present, and future. He's not concerned as much with my particular musical tastes as much as He with me in learning my lessons well. He's making a way for me to share my gifts with everyman. My Jesus loves my son and I and whispers a unsophisticated plan to tie our hearts together in a bundle of three in sharing an alluring creature in the shape of a not yet grown rabbit and among brilliant orange flowers.

I was delighted to see the tail end of the bunny fleeing into the bushes last night on my path. It was the tail end of my laps, and I thought, “God, if you have something to say, I’ve already run more than I should have, and my knees are screaming for me to stop. Would you mind speaking quickly though I know that’s not exactly how you work.”

Nothing .

I got to my destination beside my son’s soccer practice field and found a place to sprawl alone under the gorgeous clouds and bright blue sky. I thought, “This is a good spot to remain quiet and listening.” And I did until I got distracted by the practice game- a field full of mostly 10 year old boys with their shirts off sweating profusely, some with long hair flying behind them as they ran. All. Over. The. Place. When the coach took some time to explain something to the kids in mid-field, the ones closest to me and the goal began to make their arms into swinging elephant trunks and give wild explosive elephant calls. They also came up with a brilliant plan to do somersaults in celebration when their team scored. I was proud to see my son doing some interesting backwards footwork to free the ball from the mob and take control a bit.

“I’m supposed to listening to You, God” when I recognized my thoughts had wandered. I laid down face up to the sky again for a while until I heard footsteps close to my head. “How are you?” Tom, a team dad, inquired. I sat up and chatted, and somehow our conversation turned from science to intelligent design, evangelical Christians, faith, his opinion that the Bible is flawed but a good book to live life by, living a good life and being rewarded, then homosexuality.

I added a few comments to Tom’s well thought out and well put opinions. I believe the Bible to be fact, but I also believe too many people major in what I think to be the minors of inerrancy of the Bible and creationism, when the purpose of Christianity is RELATIONSHIP with Jesus and one another. And I know I do not deserve a heavenly reward in any shape or form for the good life I lead, because I fail and fail and fail and fail. Tom suggested a good life is a process as opposed to perfection to which I agreed. However, the more I try to lead a good life, the more obvious it becomes that I do not.

We ventured down the homosexuality conversation course a while, and he mentioned long term relationships and the need for couple’s rights to be acknowledged by the government. We spoke on gay pride and the uncomfortableness of PDA. I told him I think I regret not having friendship with anyone gay in that I’ve known people who’ve “come out” and then the friendship disappeared. There are still some people out there I consider to be a friend whom I’d more than welcome a visit or phone call. I didn’t have time to mention to Tom, the horrible job I feel we Evangelicals are doing regarding caring for homosexuals.

The conversation closed as the boys flooded from the field toward us.

So, I didn’t have any God bunny epiphanies, but instead good conversation. That counts for something I suppose.

Maya Angelou carries herself with an exquisite beauty which originates within and somehow shines through magically transparent skin to the outside.

Christians - By Maya Angelou

When I say... "I am a Christian
"I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'.
"I'm whispering "I was lost,
Now I'm found and forgiven."

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
and need Christ to be my guide.

When I say... "I am a Christian
"I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak
And need His strength to carry on.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed
And need God to clean my mess.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visibleBut,
God believes I am worth it.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain.
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon His name.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not holier than thou,
I'm just a simple sinner
Who received God's good grace, somehow!