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The next two Sunday nights, despite renewed invitations, no neighborhood women came to our small group.  We were very frustrated and sad.  Why did it fail if we had clearly felt from the Spirit that the time was right?

Well, upon further reflection as a team, prayer to the Giver of the increase, advice from our coaches and mentors, and discussion with the women themselves, we realized that like everything else in this place, small groups will look different here!!

Our coach encouraged Phil that most missionaries try 20 different angles before they get 2 or 3 small groups going.  He also challenged us to redefine small groups for our context, and stop trying to force them to fit into our middle class/suburban box.

For instance, we realized that planning a weekly get-together might be a step that happens AFTER the small group is already meeting and the fire is kindled in the hearts of these ladies for the Lord.  How, you might ask, can you have a small group without a weekly meeting? 

Well, that’s where our definition of small groups needs to be tweaked a little.  A small group should be defined by the purpose, which is to grow people in faith in Christ.  The success of this does not depend on regular planned weekly meetings.

We already know that most people in our neighborhood don’t plan their schedules more than a few days in advance, if that.  In general, we receive invitations to parties a few days before they happen.  A friend’s child was baptized: party Saturday, invite Wednesday.  Last week another kid had a birthday: party Sunday, invite Thursday.  This week we’ll be going to another birthday party on Saturday and just received the invite yesterday (Wednesday). 

When I pull out my palm pilot at parent council meetings, everyone stares wide-eyed as I write in dates and times.  I know part of that is because it’s an expensive and unknown piece of technology (I’ve actually “given it up” for a pocket calendar).  However, I’ve noticed no one else there is writing any dates down!  Ever!  As President of the council, I realized fast that if I wanted anyone to be at the meetings, I had to call them all to remind them, not a week before, or a day before, but that very morning, an hour or so before the meeting.

When I asked one of my friends to come to the first small group on Sunday it was Wednesday of that same week.  She said, “Meri, I have no idea what I’ll be doing that day.  You know I don’t plan things that far ahead.”  All the other ladies who said they were free and would be coming (three of them) just forgot, or had “something come up” that night.  We are very used to making plans with people, having them say yes, and then having them not show up or cancel at the last minute.  It is a very regular occurance here.  There are a myriad of reasons why this is the case, and I don’t have time to go into all of them right now.  In fact, I don’t know all of them anyway! 

It is obvious to see that people in our neighborhood seem to do better with the spontaneous, rather than the planned.  Ed and Katie had been trying for months to plan a get together with one particular family next door to eat dinner together and hang out.  They kept cancelling, then Ed and Katie had to cancel.  It seemed as though it would never happen!  Then one evening the two couples were pulling in their driveways at the same time around supper.  They quickly decided to go together to a restaurant to eat, on the spot!  And another different family who was pulling in too, decided to join them.  Three families, all with kids, eating together on the spurr of the moment, after months of planning had not succeeded.

Drop-in visits are completely acceptable and even welcome here.  Phil and I dropped by one family’s apartment last Saturday night after dinner out (our dear friend had the boys) and asked them to borrow a DVD.  We ended up going in, hanging out for an hour or so, looking at photo albums and swapping stories about our families.  Their place was a mess, the t.v. was going, and food stilll out on the table, but we were welcome to stay and talk! 

I dropped by my hairdresser’s apartment a few days ago and sat for an hour while she cut hair and talked to her and the 5 or 6 clients who funneled through…the topic woven throughout – the Bible! 

Phil just stopped by a friend’s apartment the other afternoon and was welcomed in, even though the friend had been asleep!  He stayed and talked about all kinds of things with that young man and his brother.  The topics ranged from tagging crews to Church and the meaning of Christianity. 

When I walked up to another friend’s place for a brief moment the other day she was in the dirty, tiny, hot laundry room doing her wash.  We stood and talked for 45 minutes about her autistic son and the heartbreak she and her husband suffered as they navigated life with him.  We prayed together and I left. 

The grandmother who lives downstairs from us is teaching me how to crochet on Saturday mornings.  We talk about prayer, God in struggle, passages from the Bible, and other things. 

Our coach has been challenging us to view these all as small group moments!  Upon reflection, we are actually feeling confident that the three Sundays of no-shows is not a sign that we mis-heard the Holy Spirit as much as misunderstood the M.O. of our own people in this neighborhood. 

A couple with whom we’ve been studying the Bible used to cancel so many times on us that we felt like throwing in the towel.  And only in the last four weeks, after six months of Bible studies, meals together, hanging out time, did they begin to value the worship time on Sunday mornings enough to show up at all (they’d only come once before that).  But when they decided to do that, they haven’t missed a one in four weeks!  They even took a roll in planning things for this Sunday morning’s gathering as we are out of town.  Praise God! 

For suburbanites, and middle-class America, it is accepted that showing up at a regularly scheduled small group is a sign of a seeker’s heart.  Here, a seeker’s heart is found every day in small conversations, time spent in a laundry room or a living room with a beauty shop chair, play time in the concrete “back yard”, an hour of crocheting, or sitting on the stoop to get out of the stuffy apartment.  We’ve got the venue already, and it’s our way of life!  We don’t need to issue invitations, THEY are inviting US! 

One thing is for sure, we are not letting go of our goal.  Now I am more determined to bring a Bible with me, with a verse or two I feel God calling me to share with someone…I will know from those times who is receptive and which “small groups”, like the couple I referenced above, will grow into a commitment to regularly scheduled things.  I have so many ideas of where these small groups might spring up and am excited to see which ones will become regular and growing.  I’m going to start with my laundry room friend.  Her husband and brother-in-law are already getting to know Phil.  Also, my crocheting partner.  We invited her to our small group and she declined.  She confessed to me later that it was because she was hoping her daughter (who’s a very troubled young woman) might go, but her daughter had said she wouldn’t if my friend went too.  Maybe these will be our next small groups… completely unplanned by us and completely granted by God’s grace.

We’ll let you know what our 20 or so attempts look like, and how the Spirit brings these “groups” together! 

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Wow!  What a challenging road these last three weeks have been for Katie and me as we navigate the world of small groups in a very different context than we’ve ever experienced before. 

The Holy Spirit had been prompting us to begin a group for women in the neighborhood.  We’d spent lots of time getting to know these particular ladies, praying for them, and having many “God” conversations on all different levels.  In our hearts, we knew it was time to get them into a formal study of the word…it was time to start a small group!  We decided since one of the women spoke only English, and since two ladies from the Hollywood Church of Christ were helping us and they did not speak Spanish, we would only invite the women who were bilingual.  Then we’d start a Spanish-speaking small group next month! 

So we prayed and brainstormed, talked with other urban missionaries with more experience, and came up with a game plan.  We decided to have some desserts and coffee, spend time talking and sharing, aswering some questions we’d have ready like, “How have you seen God working in your life this week?”.  Then we’d spend time in prayer for each other and others in the neighborhood.  Finally we’d watch a short scene from the “The Gospel of John” DVD (first week: the story of the woman at the well).  We’d issue verbal invitations to seven women, then written ones, and finally a quick reminder call or drop-by on the day of the event.  We even wrote a little “script” to help us use just the right words to explain the purpose of the group – not too pushy or churchy, but also forthwright and excited about the fellowship, prayer, and Bible componants of each Sunday evening! 

The day we were to do the inviting, our whole team prayed and fasted for these women.  It was a wonderful day for us as we felt God’s peace.  Overall, the invites were well received, although it was tough to read the responses…were they just being polite or were they really interested enough to come?   

Well, when 7:00 p.m. Sunday came, we were very disappointed when no one appeared at Katie’s door.  We waited for about 15 minutes and even called some of the ladies to see if they’d just forgotten.  Most weren’t home, one said she was too busy getting her granddaughter ready for school, and one said she’d see if she could come by later.  We were so disheartened!  We were drowning our sorrows in brownies and hot cocoa when Katie reminded us of the story that Jesus tells in Luke 14 where the Master invites people to his banquet but they are all too busy and no one comes.  Then he tells his servant to go out into the streets and invite all they see, even the undesirables.  After that, the Master sends him out yet again for more saying, “Make them come in!”

So, we went out.  We prayed as we walked and went to women that had not been invited.  That evening we had three women and one girl come to the “small group”.  It didn’t look aything like what we had envisioned.  We spoke Spanish, so it was difficult to come up with translations for our well-thought-out questions on the turn of a dime.  The sound on the movie wouldn’t work and we couldn’t get the Spanish subtitles to play anyway.  People had to leave because we started and ended so late, and we weren’t even sure if the ladies really enjoyed the time or not, although they said they’d all like to come again.

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In part two I will share what happened the next week, and what we are learning from this experience.

After I broke my ankle, I was really depressed. A big part of that was wondering why God had allowed a huge STOP sign to enter into the stream of relationship-building that I had been involved in with ferocity. Not only did it stop me from going out every day and visiting or doing things with other moms in the neighborhood, but it prevented Phil from having the time to commit to the people he had been getting to know because he had to be home much of the time to care for me and the boys. We felt frustrated because we couldn’t be working to form and build relationships like we wanted. No “street-work” was getting done…or so we thought!

One evening (about 11:00 at night) I was lying in bed feeling useless. Phil was working in the other room on some long overdue emails and administrative work. All of a sudden we heard gunshots ring out on the street outside, with a car screeching away down our block right afterward. Then I heard Phil’s feet pounding down the stairs and the door slam behind him as he ran out to investigate.

What Phil discovered a few buildings down from us was a young man lying on the sidewalk, cradled in the arms of his mother and surrounded protectively by a group of his friends. Phil asked if anyone had gotten through to 911 (“No, I’m getting a busy signal!” was everyone’s reply) and as he talked, made his way cautiously to the teen. There was blood from the surface wound on his head, and more from the wounds to his elbow and back. Kneeling down, Phil took his hand and asked, “What’s your name”? “Memo”, he said. Phil began to pray. He prayed and Memo and his Mom joined in. At one point, one of Memo’s friends tried to stop the prayer, but Phil was able to make eye contact with him and the Lord gave them an instant connection of understanding. He began to pray again, and continued until the ambulance arrived. Afterward, Phil was able to talk with Memo’s friends, father, and other neighbors. He arrived home and washed the blood off his hands. We prayed again for Memo and our neighborhood.

We were reminded that night of how it is Christ’s church, and HE is building it (Matthew 16:18). Even if He decides to use us in the building process, it doesn’t make it ours, and frankly, He will build it even when we are unreliable, unwilling, or simply out of commission for a time! Phil and I often have wondered how we would penetrate into this particular sub-culture of our neighborhood which includes the youth, often those with gang affiliations or at least a history of partying with them. We knew it would come somehow, but were thinking it would be through a more “round about” connection, like a neighbor who knows many of these guys. Well, we were wrong. God chose the moment, and of course, it was a more powerful and effective introduction than anything we might have imagined.

Because of that one night’s events, we have been getting to know Memo and his “homies”. Some are open to us. Memo even called Phil his “angel” the next time they saw each other, saying that the prayers were all he could think about going into surgery and the only thing that got him through the night. For the first time in six months of living here we are able to do more than say “hi” with a smile as we pass by their stoop hangout. We can now stop and talk with these young guys, calling them by name and asking about their kids or their jobs. They have assured us that if we need anything or as they put it, if anyone “messes with us” we can call on them. A picture of Memo and his “girl” hangs on the refrigerator. He handed it to us through the window of our van one day when we slowed down to chat as we passed him by. It reminds me to pray for them, and for this new relationship-the new door that God himself opened for his message of hope to walk through.

This is Christ’s church, and HE alone will build it. Laying in bed with a broken ankle with our time sucked away by the distractions of life, I realized through Memo that God will orchestrate every moment of this journey, I do not have to worry. Every soul on our street has a name, and the Lord knows it. It is written on His heart. Memo has another name too. It’s his street-name…”Lost”. I think God wants to change it!

Aside from God cleaning up my mess (see my last entry), one of the biggest surprises has been the duality of spiritual forces battling it out in our lives and in the lives of our neighbors.

God is clearer than ever in this work…during an extremely difficult time for us, we have been overwhelmed by the incredible bounty of God’s care: the way He is constantly comforting and strengthening us through our supporting churches, family, Christian friends and non-Christian neighbor, the way He has provided just what we need for this mission/work at just the right time is amazing (one tiny example – brand new school that is safe for our eldest son, opened six months before we moved here), the way He sends unexpected allies like the principal at that very same school to connect us to the community, the way He is so obviously here already, using other church planters in the area who are willing to work as a force with us without any territorial tendencies, the way He presents opportunities over and over again when and where we think doors are closed, and the list goes on and on.

Satan too, is clearer than ever. The ferocity of the darkness around us and in us is startling as well. Illness, violence, depression, fraud and hypocrisy, loneliness, poverty, fear of failure, the list goes on and on…

It’s amazing how the truth of the war of the spiritual realms is obvious on this battlefield (both East Hollywood and my own soul).

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To those women involved in ministry, what was your biggest surprise?

“What is God doing in you through this church planting experience?”

God continues to clean up my “mess”! We dreamed of inner city/urban church planting for the last eight years, but God had other things in mind for us, in the form of training and maturing us through some extremely important character building and learning experiences in ministry, as well as some difficult personal failures that needed correction by the God of discipline. When God finally moved us to East Hollywood I rejoiced that part of our preparation was done! However, in the last six months of living in our new neighborhood, God has been leading me through some very difficult times, including my broken ankle. I have been angry with Him and questioning why God allowed these trials to come, even after He finally brought us here to this mission field after all this time…why? For what purpose? How do I trust Him? Why pray? I felt for a while that this was a faith crisis.

Then I was presented with yet another opportunity to give testimony about Christ to a neighbor and in the middle of all this doubt and anger I still felt completely excited to share Him with her. I knew that He was the answer for her. God helped me realize that it wasn’t a time of faith-shaking, but rather faith-shaping, just like He’s been doing for the last 8 years. I knew (because of sharing Him with my friend) that the Holy Spirit was still alive and well in me and that I had been very naïve to think God’s work in me was done (or even on hiatus) just because we are finally here, church-planting! If anything, it’s just beginning all over again, with new intensity.

That’s one of the awesome things about living as a missionary in this world…looking for opportunity (whether formal or informal, paid or lay) to share the transforming power of Christ. It never stops transforming YOU along the way. I hear a lot of stories of Christians who have atrophied, or become anemic in their faith. They are sick with overfeeding…only taking and internalizing the message, or weakened by only discussing it with other believers. God has shown me that it is a praise and honor that His hard work in me isn’t ever going to stop! I’m becoming stronger through the agony of my own personal struggles, and am not afraid or ashamed to share them with others, including the non-Christians around me. My mentor, Jeanette Rodriguez, encouraged me not to hide what God is doing inside me, even if it’s messy!

So, I told my friend that day. I told her about all my questions and my anger with God. She was quiet for a moment and my heart was pounding! I was holding my breath, waiting to hear if this would chase her away. But no, God is good, and His power IS made perfect in weakness. She began to pour out her heart, telling me all about where she is spiritually, the questions SHE has about prayer, and exactly what she thinks of the Bible. Then she asked me an awesome question. She wants me to keep her informed about my journey with my Father. She wants me to let her know what God says or does to answer my questions.

Another mentor (who happens to be moderating this panel ) told me that, “I believe that what the planters themselves go through spiritually is a magnification of what your neighbors will go through as they journey towards God. In a sense the battle you are fighting is a battle on their behalf.” That is so true, and it gives me hope and strength to submit to God’s work in ME so that THEY might be drawn to HIM!

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Well, that’s what God is doing in me (so far) through my experience as a missionary. Are there any other women in missions out there (paid or lay, international or domestic) with similar stories? I’d love to read them.