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Getting out of my comfort zone to make Jesus real to others takes guts. I like my zone of comfort and I am not easily moved from a place of security, safety, and bonbons. I had a hard time letting go of my blankie as a kid, too.

Teresa of Avila knew that the only way to make Jesus famous was to be Jesus to those who had no concept of love in human form. She wrote “Christ’s Body” as a way to remind us that we have to be Jesus with skin on.

Christ has no body now on earth but yours;
Yours are the only hands with which He can do his work,
Yours are the only feet with which He can go about the world,
Yours are the only eyes through which His compassion can shine forth upon a troubled world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
    –Teresa of Avila (1515-1582)

 

This weekend a group of women and I are headed up to San Francisco to share a small portion of God’s justice and love with “ladies of the night.” We’ll be working with the San Francisco Youth With A Mission base focusing on Because Justice Matters. This is our first all-women’s mission trip and I hope to see more of them launched from Father’s House in the coming days.

How’s your level of comfort? Mine is being challenged.

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

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Dale Dixon

Sometimes justice is sticky.

Hitting the recreation center at a low income housing community was the last thing on my wish list a few weeks ago. I like my Saturday mornings wrapped in one-third coffee and two-thirds quiet.

On this particular Saturday, I adjusted my attitude, grabbed my huge candy bag and headed out to join our latest church Incarnation Project–a mobile Fall Festival. This community center was our morning location; another was chosen for the afternoon.

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Fun games.

It was unusually empty for a play area, but slowly kids arrived to check out the various games and craft activities scattered across the asphalt. The smell of hot dogs and popcorn was a huge draw. Free candy didn’t hurt either.

Single mothers and grandparents accompanied many of the younger children. I interviewed some who could speak English and learned that few fathers lived in the complex.

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The winner!

A single parent on inadequate income will take whatever housing is available. That seemed to be the situation in this location of town.  A welfare check or a low paying job provided little of life’s privileges for these people. Many of the blessings I take for granted were not even on their radar. 

Folks do reap what they sow, but it doesn’t seem fair. Children are not responsible for their parent’s choices or for life’s hardships. Where was the justice for these kids?

A friend commented on how hard it was for him growing up in a poor community and receiving gifts from those who seemed to have so much more then he did. “I loved the candy, but felt shamed. I wanted the gifts, but felt resentful towards those who had so much more then we did.”

I didn’t know how to respond to his statement. In trying to bring a little justice into children’s lives, was I also causing them to feel shame?

I know a small amount of justice was being served that day in the form of candy and games. Yet, in thinking over my friend’s remark, I realized that it was sticky justice. I am still processing the comment; and I still have some leftover sticky candy in my bag.

What do you think?

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