“I need to write this blog post for the Fellows by Thursday but I can’t think of anything to write about.” “Write about what you learned from confronting us!” Tammy generously offered. “But that’s scary,” I replied, to which Tammy retorted “that’s exactly why you should do it.”
I’m not going to sugar-coat it, this year, tied with my freshman year of college, has been the most difficult of my life. I have struggled with the distance I feel from my friends and family, I have struggled with the lack of direction I feel in my life post-graduation, and I have struggled to live with a host family. While the first two of the previously listed struggles are mostly out of my control, the third is one I have learned to embrace and find joy within. However, it took several months of bottling up all my frustrations to reach this point of joy. I was born and raised in South Carolina, a place where hospitality and manners are practiced with fervor and a place where, when you are a guest, you endure any and all circumstances with a smile on your face. From August until January I considered myself a guest in the Stevenson’s home and therefore placed restrictions on myself. I couldn’t ask the kids to come down the stairs more quietly in the mornings because that would be rude, I couldn’t cook in the kitchen while others were around because I didn’t want to get in anyone’s way, I couldn’t eat meals with the Stevenson’s when I had a rough day because I didn’t want them to see the grouchy, tired side of me. I felt imprisoned within a house from which I had removed all senses of comfort, sanctuary, and love. A home is a place where you feel free to be yourself, where you can watch Friends with the volume all the way up, where you can make mac and cheese at midnight if you’re feeling snacky. It’s a place where you don’t have to worry about putting your best foot forward because it’s yours. My desire to make myself the best guest the Stevensons ever had began to cause me stress, and this stress soon turned to anger, and finally bitterness. Rather than acknowledging that this stress was self-imposed, I began to blame the Stevensons. The months of sitting in my room and hiding from my host family out of fear of seeming ungrateful or unhappy in their home began to eat away at me. I assumed my only option to escape the situation was to move out. One Sunday afternoon with a plan set in place, I sat down with Tammy, Loren, and one of the directors of the Fellows, Rachel, and began to explain how I had been feeling. The second I began speaking, tears began to fall. I couldn’t make eye contact with anyone and I felt more guilt than I ever have in my entire life. After I finished voicing all of my struggles, Tammy gently asked why I had never brought up any of these issues with them before this point. I burst into tears, realizing my desire to be a perfect house guest had kept me from any and all types of confrontation. “We love you and we want you to be happy,” Tammy and Loren both said in their own words. “If you need to move out we understand, but is there anything we can change that might help you stay with us?” These words shocked me. I thought this was going to be a simple conversation where I told them I was moving and they said okay. Instead I was met with the resistance of love. I had never considered the possibility that the Stevensons cared for me as someone other than a house guest. I began crying even more because I knew I didn’t deserve their kindness - I had been selfish and completely blind to their desire to see my flourish. Flash forward several months later and the Stevensons have continued to embrace me, and now I them. We laugh together, share our frustrations, and check in on each other to make sure everything is going well both in and outside of our home. This openness did not come easily, but I cherish the ability I now have to walk through the door and complain about a rude customer at work or jump for joy at good news from a grad school. Our Fellows directors Ben and Rachel have continuously encouraged us to lean in to conflict rather than shy away from it. While I’m still not great and confronting others about my hurt and anger, I have learned a powerful lesson this year about the need for honesty in any type of relationship, even if it isn’t fun or kind. I have Ben, Rachel, and the Stevensons to thank for my newfound appreciation for conflict. Even though the thought of confronting someone still makes me cringe, I now realize that my desire to avoid uncomfortable situations at all costs is one I need to learn to fight against, and that honesty truly is the best policy. Abby Cote SLF Class of 17-18
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My job as autism assistant is messy and unpredictable. There is no telling what kind of day lies ahead of me, whether I will be pleasantly surprised by the kids’ mellow behavior or if I’ll be immediately overwhelmed by numerous tantrums. I guess that’s one of the reasons it is difficult; because no matter how positive I am at the start of my day, I have no control over the level of defiance that I will face, and this lack of control is daunting. It is therefore necessary to practice resilience by being flexible and slow to react to frustrating situations. As the Fellows director, Ben, would say, “There’s a metaphor in that.”
Why do I want control? Must be one of those traits passed down to me from those first fruit-eaters; I want control because I want to be like God. But God doesn’t treat us like puppets on a string, controlling our every action to suit His fancy. No, He gives us free will and we can choose to disobey Him or please Him. There is a set of rules that He gives us to follow for our own well-being. We can never perfectly follow them, but as we practice them, we get better and we come to understand why He set them in place. In a similar way, the kids I work with are given tasks in order to learn how to function in society. They learn simple things, like initiating greetings with classmates. Sometimes they refuse to practice and I have to be patient with them. Eventually they cooperate, with the promise of receiving candy after they work. They don’t understand that the big-picture reward for their work is much more valuable than candy: the ability to have basic interactions with people. In so many instances at work, I am challenged to relinquish my desire for control, to let go of any preconceived expectations in order to give my full attention and energy to what the kids actually need. This way I am able to respond moment-to-moment in whatever way the situation calls for. Sometimes it is necessary to ignore an adorable child who is trying to play with me when he should be working. Sometimes the child has made a mess, but in so doing, he has performed a skill successfully. Instead of chiding him for the mess, I give him praise for his outstanding efforts at, say, holding a fork correctly. Menial skill though it may seem, my encouragement could be the catalyst for a future of civilized eating methods. That is my hope, anyway. I feel a surge of pride in these small moments of victory wherein the child is close to mastering a skill. I also get overcome with frustration when I can’t even get a child to stay in his seat. Maybe God has moments like these with us, of pride and frustration, when we are inside and outside the bounds of the way Christ taught us to live. Little do we understand how sweet the reward will be when we learn to stay within designated realms—sweeter than candy, no doubt. I have a feeling that the pay-off is relational in nature, just as it is for the kids I work with. Whereas they work to iron out social deficits, we work to iron out misconceptions about the Lord. As we learn about Him and practice communicating with Him for who He actually is, we become healthier and experience spiritual wellness. Therefore it is entirely worth it to strive to imitate Christ, because even if it gets messy in the process, the Lord will use it to bring us closer to Him. Sarah Hinson SLF Class of 17-18 “Wait for the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage; wait for The Lord!” Proverbs 27: 14 This was the theme verse on our first orientation backpacking trip 5 months ago when the 7 Salt Lake Fellows had just moved to Utah to spend the year growing and serving. Throughout this season, The Lord has been slowly peeling back layers into the depths of this particular Proverb, as He continually reveals to me the ways in which He is using this truth in my life today. He has been challenging me to LIVE through a season of waiting, while clinging tight to the promises to come. To watch as He works faithfully on me, with great anticipation of His restorative power. One of the most difficult, yet hopeful seasons of my entire life. Refinement is sometimes a slow process, but its a perfect process. Perfect in orchestration, perfect in plan, perfect in timing. But this truth is often hard to cling to and remember when the plans unfolding in front of us aren’t how we would write them. When the timing is excruciatingly longer than what our hearts would prefer. It’s a process that The Lord continually challenges us to trust Him through, and wait on His timing and His power for things to be made new. It’s like the story of the silversmith who spoke about his craft. Who shared about the process of molding his silver by placing it in fire. He explained that by placing his silver in the center-most part of the fire, he was allowing the hottest flames to burn away any impurities in the metal. He carefully emphasized that his role as the silversmith was the see that particular piece of silver through the entire process- to not only sit and hold it the entire time, but to never take his eyes off of it. And when he was asked when he knew the piece was fully refined, he responded peacefully: “That’s easy. I know it’s complete when I can see my reflection in it.” “He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver.” Malachi 3:3 This process is where faith in the unseen is tested. And we as humans, doubtful in nature, will fight God and beg Him to take us from the flame that is perfecting us. But we are called to remember that He is with us and He will never take His eyes off His children during the painful season of waiting. That with the fire we are able to become more like Jesus- who endured pain that far exceeded anything our earthly minds can fathom. That through it all, we become reflections of our Savior.
The wilderness season quite generously opens its space up to the refinement process. As Utah begins to feel more and more like home, and the chaotic waters of transition calm, so my heart begins to surface its depths. I am learning with each day, that healing comes from allowing The Lord to take the hurt that has buried itself so far down into your soul, and having Him breathe over it. Giving Him the permission to walk my wounds into the cold air and bring restoration. There is purpose in placement, and when The Father draws our hearts into the wilderness, where all of our kingdoms are bowed down, and our hearts are stripped of idols- it is there where we see Him have the room to begin His soul surgery. To lay us out in the open fields and open our deepest wounds as we have been given this time, and given this space. He makes us lay down in green pastures, and the promises to restore our souls. But He asks us to wait. And to trust. And to rest in His arms that are holding us. Yumi Shill SLF Class of 17-18 Of all the challenges I had anticipated with this post-college program, no amount of foresight could have mentally prepared me for a certain obstacle: hiking in high altitudes. I thought I was in decent shape before this program, considering I exercised regularly and enjoyed the occasional day hike. However, the deep south does not offer much in the way of mountains, and as an Alabama native, I only ever had about three hiking trails to choose from in a given city. I was excited to come to Salt Lake City with its abundance of trails and outdoor activities. Excitement quickly gave way to exasperation within two days of my arrival; a five mile hike at 8,000 feet elevation squeezed the air out of my lungs, the water out of my skin, and the blind optimism out of my naïveté. As I sputtered my way up the mountain, I was vaguely aware that I was towards the back of the group, and was annoyed with the three leading the pack, who— did I imagine?— were singing their way to the top. Sputtering versus singing. Seems about right. I was just thankful to make it up without dry-heaving. It’s been four months since that first backpacking trip. Looking back, I can see that it gave me a glimpse of an outdoorsy mindset that seems common in Salt Lake, wherein the grit and grime of the hike is part of what makes the whole thing so sweet. The taxing hike was a complement to the slow-motion act of setting up camp, after which I kicked back in my hammock and let my thoughts drift... The creek’s water where we refilled our Nalgenes was mercifully cold.
Pretty quickly I realized that I had not gone on the actual trail. I kept thinking that I would reach the top and find the real trail to hike back down. In my fear I remembered Psalm 123, and Psalm 130, and I was comforted that the Lord knew what was in store for me. I took solace in knowing that He knew whether I would find a trail at the top, or if I was going to fall and break a bone, or if I would have to be airlifted (this scenario seemed a real possibility). Even in my fear and regret, I clung to my God who is with me always. I didn’t know the outcome, but I put stock in a God who did.
Amazingly, I survived that “hike” (although my clothes didn’t, they were ripped to shreds), and have since been able to reap the benefits of an expanded trust in the Lord. The lesson I took from that hike, that I can rely on the Lord’s all-knowingness about my future, has proven applicable to many things in life. For example, I have no idea where I will be or what I will be doing next year, but I believe in a God who does. I trust that He will work on my behalf no matter what happens, and that His plans for my sanctification will persevere through it all. Sarah Hinson SLF Class of 17-18 7 strangers who followed Jesus to the foothills of Utah. By His perfect orchestration He has walked us each to this place. They are some of the most special people I have ever had the privilege of knowing and I pray through this writing, you would learn even just a little of who these beautiful and wonderful children of God are, and how they've already affected my life.
Jonathan, Thank you for your authenticity and your deep desire to show Jesus's love to everyone you come in contact with. Thank you for your patience and care as each of us continue to fight through our brokenness and bow it before the Father. You listen, you encourage, and you serve us daily in the most humble of ways- often without a thank you in return. Thank you for your continual forgiveness and grace that you extend to us as we become sanctified as a group and in our own individual walks. I pray you know how appreciated you are by us, and by Jesus. I pray you know that you are not alone in this wilderness season and that He has you and He will KEEP you. And lastly, I pray that you know and can rest in comfort that you have 6 brothers and sisters by your side who love you, and will fight for you. Sarah, Thank you for your intentional soul that you continue to give so much of to others. Your desire to know the depths of each of us, and your willingness and excitement to love our imperfections. Thank you for your pursuit of understanding, and your empathy and passion you give to your fellow travelers. Your wit mixed with your caring heart are a beautiful combination and demonstration of The Lord's most perfect hand of creation. You make our group fuse together by the opening up and gathering nature that you have- you are glue. A strong and steady part of our fusion. I pray you know how DEEPLY cared for you are by each one of us, and that our group would not be the same without you in it. Cote, Thank you for being who you are, unashamed and unabashedly, 100% of the time. Thank you for teaching me what a beautiful energy The Lord can bring into a human. I stand in awe of the strength you have shown this year. Thank you for not giving up on The Fellows, and on God's plans of Utah- despite how hard this transition may have gotten. Thank you for your curiosity, and willingness to ask the hard questions, it has made us all grow tremendously. Thank you for caring for me on the top of the mountain, and for walking with me in the valleys. You continue to love each one of us so well. Thank you for bringing a presence to our group that allows us to experience laughter that comes from belly-deep, and I pray you know just how needed that is in our fellowship and in my life. Wawa, Thank you for being such a faithful friend, sister and roommate to me. Thank you for seeing me at my worst and choosing to love me anyways, in all of my forms. Thank you for being slow to speak and quick to listen, always making each member of our group feel heard and understood. Thank you for being a once-in-a-lifetime kind of friend, and for continually reminding me of The goodness of Our Father. You are brave and you are strong and you have encouraged me tremendously. I pray you know that your voice is heard, and your thoughts are significant. You are wonderfully made, sweet Wa. JDub, Thank you for your honesty and your pursuit of excellence that continues to challenge each one of us into our best forms. Thank you for your compassionate heart that you've so vulnerably shared and extended to each one of us. You stand firm in your beliefs, while opening your ears and eyes into how others see the world, and for that I am grateful. Thank you for your servant heart to always be there for another fellow in times of need. Thank you for opening your heart to what Jesus wants to do in you, and humbly submitting and letting Him shape you. I pray you know how comforting your presences is, and that The Lord is growing you and molding you into a strong and courageous man. It is evident. Sweet AB, Thank you for your strength. For your passion. For your heart that feels things in a way that is so beautiful and raw. You carry the burdens of your brothers and sisters, all while fighting your own battle- and I love you for that. You are strong in The Lord because you know your weaknesses and you allow Him to take them and grow you. Thank you for never shying away from an opportunity to make us feel loved in an intentional way. Thank you for not just walking alongside each of us during this season, but for continually speaking truth into our lives and situations. I pray you know how cherished you are by The Lord and by us, and that every part of you is welcome here. Lord, Thank you for these people that you have blessed me with this year. To grow with, to cry with, to remember with. You are good to us, and you are doing a mighty work in our fellowship- in your perfect and beautiful timing. I praise you for your unfailing plans for each of us individually, and as a group. Thank you for allowing me the honor of seeing you work, with these people by my side. Yumi Shill SLF Class of 17-18 I was anticipating this weekend for many weeks. Venturing down to a place that is so unlike anywhere I had ever been, I was filled with eagerness and excitement. Arriving at our campsite in the sand flats of Moab, I was filled with awe as the night sky was clear enough to see the cloudiness of the Milky Way. We spent the weekend visiting Arches and Canyonlands National Parks, rappelling down 95 and 110-foot cliffs, and exploring the slot canyons found in Little Wild Horse Canyon. I would describe myself as an avid adventure seeker. I’m always looking for opportunities to explore and experience new things…and this escapade down to southeastern Utah brought a lot of joy to my adventurous soul. However, I can get so caught up in pursuing emprises such as this that I forget to see the bigger picture. Following the Lord is the greatest adventure that I could ever hope for, wherever that may lead me. I imagine that on the day Jesus approached Andrew and Peter, they had no idea that life as they knew it was about to change. I bet as Jesus called out, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men,” both of them were clueless to what this decision to follow Jesus would entail. An adventure beyond their wildest dreams began the moment these two fishermen dropped their fishing nets to go after Jesus. But it didn’t stop there. Some time later, the disciples were travelling in a boat to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. Already en route to the opposite side, Jesus made his way to the boat by striding across the water. Peter and the disciples were alarmed with the scene unfolding before them. Upon approaching the boat, Jesus said to Peter, “Come.” At that moment, Peter had a choice. To reside in the safety of the boat, or to respond to the call to follow Jesus out in the water. He chose to follow Jesus again in that moment and until his death when he was crucified upside down in the name of Jesus. Jesus’ invitation to follow Him isn’t just a one time offer. It's presented to us even after we have responded, and that’s what makes this magnificent adventure so enticing. The invitation doesn’t change, but where it takes you does. And isn’t that what adventure is about? Going to the unknown, enduring the uncomfortable, and facing fears to see or do something out of the ordinary. In a worldly sense, it may not always be worth the challenge. But with God, the adventure He beckons us on is always worth the toil. We have a God who knows our innermost being; our hearts, deepest desires, and unuttered longings. Who then is better to orchestrate our own personal journey? The Lord has a sense of adventure, and its something He invites His children to partake in. If it were not have been for my response to release my fishing net three years ago and to step out of the boat seven months ago, I would not be writing this. I wouldn’t have navigated the slot canyons, sat suspended 90 feet in the air with just a harness and rope, or gazed at the night sky as shooting stars faded in and out of view. I wouldn’t be in SLC. Saying yes to hopping out of the boat opened up a door of longings and desires being fulfilled that I didn’t even know I had! But my decision to remove myself from the boat isn’t the only one I’ll have to make in my life. In fact, Jesus is presenting another invitation to follow Him that would lead me thousands of miles away from SLC. Do I remain in the comfort and shelter of the boat, or do I take a chance to endure the wind and unfamiliar? At 22 years old, my journey is far from over. And yours isn’t done either, no matter your age or predicament. So, where does this put you? Do you have to answer the initial invitation and drop your fishing net? Or respond to the continuing invitation to step out of the boat? I’d encourage you to let go of your fishing net or climb out the boat in whatever way that is for you personally. Because following the Lord is the greatest adventure that you could ever hope for, wherever that may lead you. While walking by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon (who is called Peter) and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Immediately they left their nets and followed him. |Matthew 4:18-20| And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” and they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.” And Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus. |Matthew 14: 25-29| Abby Waters SLF Class of 17-18 We’ve just pulled off the interstate. Two streets away and my heart is pounding. Five days of welled-up anxiety from the cross country road trip mingled with my fear of feeling unwelcome and unknown by the family I would spend the next 10 months living with. We rounded the corner leading to my new home and put the car in park. I let out a deep breath, looked at my dad, and opened the car door. Would I get along with their kids? Would their living style be far different than my own? Would they resent me for joining family meals and other activities? Would I like the food they made for dinner? All of these questions swirled in my mind as I closed the passenger door and moved to the trunk where all of my belongings waited to be moved in. Then I hear a door open. Two, young girls come running out the door with huge smiles on their face. In the doorway is the friendliest, most welcoming face I have ever seen. We greeted each other with handshakes and conversation ensued. I felt at ease in their presence and a familiar sense of home rushed in.
Almost two months later and I’m convinced I am living among some of the most amazing people I will ever meet. I’m not even quite sure what I was even worried about in the first place! They have taken me in as a sixth child to their five and treated me with respect and lovingkindness. As I’ve gotten to know each of them more deeply, I see crazy cool similarities between us that I can only credit to God. With commonalities ranging from family origins to household routines, I feel right at home. At New Song the past few weeks we have been discussing our core values as a church. Today we talked about the importance of initiating grace. Our Pastor lead us through Mark 5 and Jesus’ encounter with the demon possessed man, noting the aspects of the account that might have inhibited us from showing true grace in our own personal hard situations. The main points taken from Mark 5 were that sometimes grace goes where we don’t want to go, grace costs more that we want to pay, and that grace changes things we didn’t think could. He left us with the question of whether or not we were initiating grace after having received it ourselves. If we were sacrificing time, money, and preconceptions to extend a small amount of the grace that Jesus has given us. My host family has gone above and beyond the expectations provided by our directors. Their hospitality is what has made this transition much easier and has allowed me to focus on developing relationships with my coworkers and the other fellows, knowing I can come home to a welcoming family. As I’ve gotten to know my host family, I’ve gotten to know what true grace looks like. They didn’t just take me in and wait for me to leave the comfort of my room to interact with them. Instead, they invited me into the most intimate parts of their family routine. I have the privilege of joining them for dinner every night if I’m home and participating in tea and devotion time after dinner. Meal times are precious family times. And reading scripture and sharing prayers aloud is inviting me in to see their vulnerabilities and also what they hold most dear. This is the truest example of initiating grace I have ever experienced. Through this experience of living with a host family and doing life with them so far, I have seen the greatest display of compassion and the totality of God’s faithfulness rendered in our obedience. Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of loving, listening, pure community. Abbie Hoekstra SLF Class of 17-18 I’ve been fishing my whole life. Growing up in Alabama, my dad and I would spend summer afternoons at local ponds fishing for largemouth, and weekends fishing off our dock. When we went to the beaches of Florida, we would set up poles in between umbrellas, and if I was lucky, hire guides to take us out for snapper and grouper- I always looked at these sea worn men with envy; they were living my dream. I am lucky to be close with my dad, so fishing with him is a frequent privilege. Especially when I was younger, this time allowed me opportunity to ask the types of questions curious little boys ask while they try to figure out the world: “Why do people die? How will the world end? What’s heaven like? How hard do I need to set the hook?” Years later and I’m not so little, but just as curious. Having moved from Alabama to Salt Lake City, I’m unable to discuss these questions with my dad while we fish, but by habit, these types of questions still pop into my head when I’m near water. Since I’ve gotten out here, I’ve been mediating on life’s big questions, and I’ve found the best time for me to try to answer them is while I’m fly fishing for trout. I haven’t figured everything out (I guess I’ll have to fish more), but here’s what I’ve learned so far. When approaching a spot you suspect to have fish in it, adrenaline will rush through your veins and do everything it can to cloud your judgment. If you let these feelings get the best of you, you will choose to tie on that fly that worked last time, and completely ignore the fact that there are caddis flies swarming around you. In your haste, you’ll get that Fat Albert wrapped around that tree that was just behind you the whole time, and the fish will sit at the bottom of the river and laugh at your ignorance. And this is how life goes, at least for me. Often times I find myself succumbing with the same sins I have in my past, wondering, “if the Holy Spirit is so powerful, why am I still struggling with this? If God can change me, fix this, or make this easy for me, why hasn’t He?” I end up, out of frustration, trying to tackle my own problems, making them worse, and missing out on a fundamental lesson in the life of a Christian: patience. Examples of this message are throughout scripture: in 2 Peter, Simon Peter notes: But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. (2 Peter 3:8) In Romans, the apostle Paul writes: Let your hope keep you joyful, be patient in your troubles, and pray at all times. (Romans 12:12) To surrender your life to the Lord is to surrender control over all things, even your time. This will never be easy, but the Bible promises that it is worth it, and that it’ll catch you the fish. Fishing around here is different from fishing back home. The action of fly-casting, the relatively small size of the rivers, and the segmented nature of fishing holes often prescribe a sizeable distance between fishermen. This isolation allows me the opportunity to spend restful hours alone, something I normally struggle to do. My favorite quote on this solitude experienced by fisherman is from David James Duncan in his novel The River Why:
“And so I learned what solitude really was. It was raw material - awesome, malleable, older than men or worlds or water. And it was merciless - for it let a man become precisely what he alone made of himself.” Mathew 14 famously tells the story of Jesus walking on water, and everybody’s heard it, but what few can recall is what he was doing before that moment. Scripture reads: After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone (Mathew 14:23). Further examples are seen throughout scripture and lead to an undeniable conclusion: Jesus spent a lot of time alone. Being away from other people gives us the opportunity to rest deeply in the Lord’s presence, to pray with our minds unclouded from distractions, and to sometimes find that we are using other people as crutches for our temporary happiness. In these moments of isolation, I find that I am closest to God, and it helps to reorient me to His plans. The hardest lesson, in life and fly fishing, is beautifully described by Norman Maclean in my favorite book, A River Runs Through It. “All good things- trout as well as eternal salvation- come by grace, and grace comes by art, and art does not come easy.” Some days I’ll be in the “honey hole”, when the fishing is “white hot”, fishing with the fly that “everyone’s catching them on”, and I’ll hook into a whole pile of nothing. That’s just how fishing is: you can try as hard as you can, but in the end, the fish has to give you what you want. Our walk with the Lord is no different. We can do every good deed and repent of all our sins, but nothing in this world we can do can restore us to a relationship with our Creator. Only He can do that. “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast.” (Ephesians 2:8-9) John Wilson Booth SLF Class of 17-18 Sitting on a cliff overlooking Big Cottonwood Canyon, I closed my eyes and just listened to the wind blowing through the pine trees. There’s just something really special about enjoying creation with the One who formed it out of nothing. There’s also something really special about feeling a deep-rooted freedom that only those in Christ get to truly experience. A freedom to just be. At this point in time, I was reflecting on where I was 3 months ago to where I was at that present time. Spiritually, mentally, and even physically I was in a drastically different place than where I am currently, and I spent that time praising God for delivering me from deep rooted fears and bondage, radically changing my life (again), and for knowing my heart so well to lead me to a place that was exactly what I needed. Walking away from that sweet time with the Lord, I put the memory away in my heart, not anticipating retrieving it until I approached another time of reflection. A week since that moment, the Lord has brought it out again to reveal something to me. We all crave authentic freedom and to feel the presence of the Lord. Now, let me explain why that is a very significant truth the Lord wanted me to know. Coming out to Salt Lake City, I thought that I would relate to the people of the counter-LDS culture more so than the LDS community. I desired to get a job as a barista to immerse myself into the increasing opposing LDS culture. I was very intrigued by the LDS faith and was eager to learn more about it, but I let stereotypes cloud my heart to the point that I didn’t want to interact with these people. I couldn’t understand why God would allow this false religion that severely distorted the Bible and Him to even exist. When LDS missionaries started coming to my apartment complex and began to speak with a man from a country in Asia, I was filled with rage. I had let my heart become so hardened that I saw these people as enemies. I deserved some major discipline from the Lord, as those are His people too and I was looking down on them with shame and disgrace…just as the Pharisees did to the tax collectors and sinners of their time. But God has lovingly and patiently helped me to realize that these people are more like me than I originally thought. The LDS faith is the epitome of a works-based religion. These people are stuck in the bondage of toiling to earn their salvation, so fearful of messing up or failing because that puts their salvation, well-being, and worth on the line. Grace, receiving what you don’t deserve, is foreign concept to them. And I can relate to that so much. I grew up in the Catholic church, being taught that I must be a good person and do all these good deeds so that I may get to heaven one day. I had to work endlessly to earn the love of the Lord. Grace was absent from my home life/religion; there was no room to make mistakes. How much different is what I believed while growing up different to what those in the LDS church believe? There isn’t much of a difference at all. These people are in shackles, searching and working for the freedom they subconsciously dream of, just as I had done once. Beautiful and elegant LDS temples are scattered across the valley. The LDS faith believes that their temples are where one can experience the presence of Heavenly Father. These people want to feel the presence of God, and they build these temples because they are searching for ways to experience and commune with the Lord. And how much I searched for ways to experience the presence of the Lord, just as these people do. I went to concerts, mega conferences, and worship services as I exhaustedly sought to feel the Lord’s presence. Only until this summer did I truly understand what it meant to genuinely experience the Lord and realized that I had been searching in all the wrong places. These people crave for community with the Father and are actively searching for it in false ways, just like I did.
We all crave authentic freedom and to feel the presence of the Lord. So, these people are more similar to me than I once thought. While their journey in this life looks different than mine, God is beckoning them into a relationship with Him, just as He once did for me. They are loved and cherished by Him, for they are His people too. Praise the Lord for morphing my Pharisee-like heart towards these people into a heart that’s full of Christ’s love and affection for them. And I can’t wait for the opportunity to love, serve, and speak truth to these forgotten people. While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does you teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” |Matthew 9:10-13| Abby Waters SLF Class of 17-18 We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. (2 Corinthians 5:20) For the past year previous to joining the Salt Lake Fellows, I had continually and eagerly been praying about missions, and I openly asked The Lord to reveal to me where He desired me to serve. I think in our generation and in The Church today, when we hear the word “mission” and our minds quickly think to a third-world country that’s in desperate need of aid and assistance. My mind would jump to “every tongue and every nation”… and rightfully so. These places are in incredible need of the Gospel and the message of hope, and I’m so thankful that The Lord calls specific believers to go and serve in these far off areas. And for some time I thought that would be me. But during this season He has called me to a far different mission field than I would have ever pictured in my mind. Through prayer and time, The Lord revealed to me that there are yearning mission fields in our very country. There are people who have never tasted the freedom that comes in being a follower of Christ, populations that are lost in legalism and “rules of religion,” hardened hearts who have walked away from the Church due to hurt or past experiences, all in all- people The Lord desires to reach and pursue through His children. There are 7 Salt Lake Fellows out here this year in the mountains of Utah, willing and ready to serve this city and share of the chain-breaking God we love. And lately we’ve been learning so much about the culture here and the unique mission field in which He’s placed our feet. I’m learning that a mission field can look very different than we’d imagine a “struggling culture” to look. In fact, in Salt Lake’s case… there may be incredible wealth and prosperity, well dressed men in suits, and temples built up tall to the sky. All masking fear and bondage that comes with legalistic pressures. In Salt Lake City specifically, there is a predominant Mormon culture with our entire city built around the central LDS Temple, and Brigham Young University just minutes from our homes. If you go downtown, many of the local businesses, boutiques, malls, and companies are run/owned by a member of The Church of Latter Day Saints. In a community that values and emphasizes wealth and success, these people seem to be thriving. But something we are quickly learning as well is that there is also an aggressively strong "Anti-Mormon" culture in the city... which is exactly what it sounds like: people completely in opposition to the LDS Church and show a clear effort to make known where they stand. You’ll observe many of these people with excessive tattoos and piercings in drastic hopes to separate themselves from the Mormon culture in this place. This division has created a strong tension within the city, with these two opposing populations fighting to live in the same land. Our program director Ben said that as Protestant Christians, we are to walk the line between these two opposing forces. I see this concept illustrated so vividly in the picture below- one that was taken on our hike to Red Pine Lake the other weekend. A picture of two strong forces existing side-by-side but never coming together to dwell. My prayer is for unity. That somehow, someway the war between these two communities would be brought into harmony by the freedom and joy of Jesus Christ. I pray for the ability to love well and build relations with both communities, and the courage to stand in the gap between the two (Ezekiel 22:30). When I think of the God we serve, and His mighty power that can move mountains, I get excited that I get to be a part of this mission and to see what He does in this beautiful place. Jesus Christ knew division, and He holds the power to conquer it. “Truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move.” (Matthew 17:20) Yumi Shill SLF Class of 17-18 |
AuthorSalt Lake Fellows Collaborative Archives
November 2020
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