Nancy Beach

Ministry in Seattle

     I'm in Seattle - and guess what, it's raining!  (the people who live here are very sensitive about their reputation for rain, but some stereotypes are just true...)   I'm a part of a Southern Baptist Regional Conference here, and have enjoyed meeting with some church leaders trying to build thriving churches in a part of the country where ministry often feels like an uphill climb.  Both the Northwest and New England are becoming places that feel more like Canada and Europe when it comes to the challenge of building a church.  I am inspired by the faithfulness of these men and women who are faithfully continuing to be a bright light in this area that so desperately needs the love of Christ.  Many of them moved here to plant churches, beginning with very few people, no money, and just a heart for the people who call the Northwest home. I consider it an honor to be numbered among them as a Christ follower.

The Power of an Invitation

     Last week a family friend called to tell me his mother has gone to heaven. My memories of this woman and her husband go back decades because they were THE family we celebrated holidays with, went to Cubs games with, laughed on the beach during vacations with...they were probably our closest family friends.  When I got the call, I was not surprised because this beautiful lady had been ill for some time.  Her son told me that the memorial service, to be held this Thursday, will be very small.  He's only inviting a few people "who knew her well and loved her."  I felt honored to be included, and will move around my schedule to make sure I am there to help celebrate her long and excellent life.

     There's something powerful about certain invitations.  We all receive casual invites all the time:  "Why don't we get together soon?" Usually we don't really mean it, and move right on with our busy lives.  But when we are intentionally included in a gathering because we are known and loved...that's a different story.

     I thought about this invitation business yesterday as our church celebrated the sacrament of communion. Jesus invites those who know Him and love Him to gather for remembering, for focusing, for confessing, for giving thanks for His sacrifice.  It is an honor that we dare not become cavalier about.  As I brought the bread and cup to my mouth, I realized how many times I have been invited to join with a community of faith in this most holy moment.  What a privilege and profound gift of grace to be included among the followers of Jesus, to be invited to the table.

Gathering in Kelowna

     I'm heading tomorrow to Kelowna, a lovely city in western Canada.  On Tuesday evening, I will gather with a group of local church artists for dialogue about ministry, culture, creativity, and whatever else we find to explore.  I look forward to connecting with my Canadian friends and finding out more about their challenges these days.  Then on Wednesday I will have the opportunity to facilitate a "Gifted to Lead" workshop for women in leadership.  

     God is giving me a little gift while I'm there - the chance to see some friends from Willow who now minister in Kelowna.  Dave and Nicole Huber were on the Willow team for many years, but are actually native Canadians.  Dave now leads the arts ministry at Trinity Baptist Church in Kelowna.  Wayne Alguire served as the Campus Pastor for Willow McHenry.  His wife, Brenda, was a part of our worship ministry.  I can't wait to reunite with them and enjoy dinner in their home.  Wayne is currently serving as a Lead Pastor at Trinity Baptist.

     Throughout our lives, all of us cross paths with so many remarkable people.  I imagine heaven as partly a big reunion when we can catch up with one another, discover how God worked throughout our brief time on earth, and affirm once again our love for these treasured friends.  So this week, I'll have a little taste of heaven!

INDIANA BEAUTY

     Last Thursday and Friday, my husband and I drove to Indiana so our daughter could explore Butler University and Indiana University.  Both of these campuses are noted for their staggering beauty - and their Fall leaves were blazing at peak color.  I found myself saying "Wow" more times than I could count.  Apparently, one of the earliest Presidents of IU, in the midst of heavy construction, decreed that for every tree they took down they would plant two.  As a result of his foresight, the campus is bursting with trees everywhere you look.  At Butler, the campus features both a forest and garden area, along with a lovely path bordering a creek.  I saw a line of turtles sunning themselves in a row, perched on a log, and delighted in the ducks passing by.  When I returned home to the Chicago area, the maple trees had finally burst out in their golden oranges and fiery reds.  I must be careful not to get in a car accident because I'm so easily distracted by the breathtaking beauty of Autumn.

     And to think...we worship the God who thought this whole leaf idea up!  I stand in utter amazement at the Creativity of our Magnificent Designer.  The seasons remind me every year what a wondrous gift life is.  Even as I contemplate a season coming very soon when both my girls will be away in college, I know that the God who ushers in the Fall colors each year can be trusted with my own times of transition and awkward adjustments...even times of uncertainty and loss.

Ministry in Moncton

     This past weekend I had the opportunity to serve at Hillside Baptist Church in the city of Moncton, New Brunswick, Canada.  Eastern Canada is sadly similar to parts of Europe where church attendance is quite low and where few bright lights for God are blazing.  But this church is a bright light, and it was a privilege to be among them.  I taught women from the entire region all day Saturday in a "Gifted to Lead" workshop.  Then Sunday morning, I preached at the two church services.

     The moment in the service for me actually took place before I taught (that's pretty typical!).  One of their vocalists, a young guy named Jason, told his story before singing.  For the past 7 years he has had only blurry sight - extremely blurry.  He works as an Art Director, and had to request a larger monitor at the office.  I don't know how he managed to drive or just get through most days.  Many people didn't even know about his sight issues.  A few months ago, Jerry had an operation to repair his cornea.  That operation was made possible through a series of financial gifts that could only have been prompted by our gracious God.  The operation was only the first step, and afterwards, Jason still could not see clearly.  But just two weeks ago, after being fitted with special new contact lenses, Jerry almost hugged the nurse when he opened his eyes.  He walked outside and marveled at the detail in the concrete pavement.  He exploded with joy when he got into the privacy of his car, and called his wife - showing off by reading the numbers off the license plates of cars in front of him.  Miraculously, Jerry can see again.  After telling his story, Jerry and his wife Kim sang a song about the outrageous and undeserved grace of God.

     That story was a powerful moment in church.  A true story.  We all need to tell more of those because they point us to God and restore our faith...

     

Treasured Books

     I'm working on a talk for the "Story" conference to be held in Aurora, Illinois October 28.  In preparation, I pulled a book off my top shelf at home.  That's the shelf where I keep all my favorites, the books I would grab first in a fire, the books that have marked my life and ministry most.  Chief among them (after the Bible, of course) is a book I read in Graduate School.  Written by the brilliant author, Frederick Buechner, this little book is less than 100 pages, and yet it transformed me in foundational ways as an artist and communicator.  The book is titled Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale.  I look back and see how Buechner ennobled me as a storyteller.  

     We all know that Jesus was a teller of stories.  Buechner wrote that when Matthew tries to explain the way Jesus preached, he quoted from the 78th Psalm:  "I will open my mouth in parables, I will utter what has been hidden since the foundations of the world."  (Matt. 13:35)  Then Buechner added these inspiring words:

...and insofar as it was the hidden and private and ultimately inexpressible that Jesus preached about, in a sense he had no recourse but to preach in the way he did, not in the incendiary rhetoric of the prophet or the systematic abstractions of the theologian but in the language of images and metaphor, which is finally the only language you can use if you want not just to elucidate the hidden thing but to make it come alive.

     Surely it is the stories that we most remember, stories of the lost coin and the wayward son and the dying daughter and the sick widow.  In my creation of services and teaching over the years, I see that it was the drama scene people were most gripped by and remembered, or the stories I told of my family and my failures.  Buechner taught me what it means to aim to tell the truth, to expose the darkness with raw honesty before trying to usher in the hope of the light.  I will be forever grateful for how God used him in my life.  Please don't ever ask to borrow my book - it's staying right on my top shelf!

Anniversary Celebration at Willow

     This weekend we are celebrating the 34th anniversary of our church, with all 5 campuses and our Spanish congregation gathering together in South Barrington.  What a thrill to be united in worship, giving thanks for the outrageous faithfulness and mercy of our great God.  I am one of those who knows just how unlikely a group the founders of this church were for God to use, and how many grievous errors and sins we have committed along the way.  God chose to sustain us in spite of ourselves, as He so mercifully does.

     On the very same weekend that Willow Creek was launched, the phenomenon known as Saturday Night Live also began.  I don't know why I find that so interesting, but I do.  That show has influenced my generation and those that have followed in significant ways.  When we come to eternity, I wonder how we will look at the kingdom of God and its impact from 1975 until the present - in what ways have Christians influenced the culture and acted as transforming agents for the cause of Christ?  Measuring the ways in which the arts, and specifically a television show, have influenced people is a tricky business.  Surely the attitudes of many toward Sarah Palin were highly affected by the comedy offered up by Tina Fey and company.  Perhaps it will not be until we celebrate God's goodness in heaven that we will more clearly see how Christ followers in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries impacted their generation through our worship, our service to the poor, our love for the lost. In the meantime, we are called to persevere for the sake of the kingdom, one day and one life at a time.  I count it a tremendous privilege to be counted among my brothers and sisters in the church of Jesus Christ, worldwide, who seek to be a light blazing (or at least flickering) in the darkness...

My Elderly Parents

     This week I'm consumed with helping my parents pack up the home where they've lived the past 13 years.  They are moving into an addition that my younger sister built on her house for them, because they need more care at the ages of 88 and 86.  Today we were filling more boxes, cleaning out the refrigerator, and making decisions item by item what to do with possessions and keepsakes that are precious to them.  Several times, my mom got all choked up.  I know she is anxious about the move and sad about leaving what is familiar and the friends and church community she has counted on.  This is all just plain hard.

     I really can't imagine what it must be like to be in your 80's.  My parents have already lost so many friends and siblings.  They keep navigating other losses including the mobility they once enjoyed, the ability to sleep well, the comfort of bodies that don't ache so much and minds that aren't nearly as sharp.  Soon my dad will have to say good-bye to the freedom of driving his car. As my mom often says, "It's no fun getting old." I'm certain this will be my parents' final move before heaven. I hope we can help them walk through the next several days as smoothly as possible, knowing that no matter how hard we try, we can't possibly make it all feel good...

     

African Snapshots

     I returned a few days ago from a remarkable trip to Zimbabwe.  One of our Willow team members, Heather Larson, is an excellent photographer.  I watched as she took hundreds of photos (and she promises to share them with me).  All of my images are captured in my mind, and I hope to hold onto them for a very long time.  The entire experience marked me in profound ways, just as I hoped and prayed it would.  Here are just a few of my personal snapshots:

• Pastor Lucy, a large woman who reminded us of a "Zimbabwe Oprah"...she was abandoned as a baby in the bush, and later abused for several years by a stepfather. Pastor Lucy and her husband have planted over 250 churches, and she passionately loves women who have been mistreated in any way or who feel as though God could never forgive them.  Every Thursday, a sea of women gather to worship and receive teaching. I had the privilege of speaking to about 2000 if these precious women, all seated in the open air on the ground, half with babies strapped to their backs in the sweltering sun.  Before I spoke, Lucy asked two women to share their testimonies.  Both were former prostitutes who had also agreed to several abortions.  They described their past, and then gave praise to the God who has cleansed them, redeemed them, and allowed them to move forward with grace.  I was so very inspired by their stories!    
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•  Our church has provided for the installation of fresh water in 6 communities through what is called a bore-hole - essentially a new pump and filtration system.  We visited 3 of them, out in the most desolate villages 2 hours away from the capitol city.  When we arrived, several members of the community gathered to express their gratitude to God, and to tell us about how the women and young girls used to travel several kilometers more than once a day carrying water in buckets on their heads.  These folks have so very little, but I will not forget the joy on their faces as they pumped fresh water and pointed to their communities just a bit down the road.  A simple gift like fresh water has made all the difference.  And then, one elderly woman with wrinkles all over her beautiful face, pointed to the other side of a mountain and  requested that we consider giving the community way over there a bore-hole because they do not have fresh water. In spite of her severe poverty, she was concerned about those who have less...that humbled me. 
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• A young girl named Praise sat on my lap as I listened to the stories of about a dozen male and female pastors and church leaders.  The resilience and faithfulness of these folks who are trying to share the gospel holistically in a country with 90% unemployment, government corruption, a cholera epidemic, and a high number of HIV/Aids patients, truly astounds me.  I had the opportunity to speak in one of their churches on Sunday.  Their services regularly go for 4 1/2 hours!  (and we Americans get antsy with anything over 60 minutes...)  I felt such a kinship with the church leaders, though our daily challenges are entirely different.  Next time I feel like complaining about workload or lack of resources, I hope my mind will jump to Zimbabwe so that I can recognize how grateful I should always be... 
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•   I could go on and on with snapshots, but that's probably enough for now.  To think that people in Zimbabwe were praying for fresh water and food, and God prompted a church in suburban Chicago to raise money to meet that need is one of those modern day miracles we should wildly celebrate.  There is so very much more to be done...and I hope all of us will grow in our generous hearts toward brothers and sisters who have so little. 

Off To Africa

     Tomorrow I will head to Zimbabwe with my husband and a few other team members.  This is my first trip to Africa since college, over 30 years ago, when I traveled on a missions trip to what was then known as Rhodesia.  Since that time, the country has endured a revolution, and now Zimbabwe is ravaged by corruption, unbelievable inflation, a cholera epidemic, and massive poverty and disease.  Our church packed 4.5 million meals to send to partners in Zimbabwe, and we will meet with those partners and establish some new relationships.  We will also create a video to report back to our congregation, and on Friday I will have the opportunity to speak to hundreds of women in a gathering.

     But here's the main reason I asked to make this journey - it's for the condition of my heart.  It's been far too long since I was exposed to Third World poverty.  About 6 years ago we took our daughters to the Dominican Republic.  Since then I have traveled exclusively around the First World, teaching workshops, etc.  My heart needs to be reminded of how about a billion people exist on one dollar a day or less.  I need to look into their eyes.  I need to feel some of their despair.  I need to be reminded of my responsibility to the under-resourced.  I need to be lifted by their faith against such daunting odds.

     So I won't be blogging for about 10 days.  When I return, I'll let you know how God moved inside my heart...