Sunday, January 1, 2017

The Church of Misfit Toys

I am not a fan of  Rankin/Bass films.

I grew up on the Rudolf movie, Frosty the Snowman, and a myriad of other animated extravaganzas. I could go on for an hour on the artwork, stories, etc. (gag gag gag)
I'm probably in trouble now.

One item always captured my attention though, The Island of Misfit Toys. Toys that weren't broken, or damaged, but were abandoned and rejected for... idiosyncrasies. 

Idiosyncratic definition:  peculiar, special, individual, unique.

I was a relatively good kid. I obeyed my parents, never cut school, worked a job full-time since I was 15. 

When my mother went to work when I was in high school, I got to take over the cooking,  cleaning and laundry to help out. I was, well, responsible.

We always had a church home. Dad was a deacon and trustee, Mom played piano and sang in the choir. I taught VBS and ran a children's choir while going to college.

In JrHi, I felt a call to ministry. I told my Pastor that I believed I was called to preach. I was 14. He made a place for me in the next Sunday service to share that and ask for prayer support. Rev. Travis gave me support consistently while we were in that church.

It's been a metaphorical fist-fight ever since.

The closer I got to God, the more I realized what I was reading in the Bible, and what I was sometime experiencing in the church was not always aligning. 

I began learning how to research the scriptures, to discover the best English translations of the original writings. I dug deep into what I was being taught and discern between reality and tradition. I got into the presence of God.

To put it succinctly,  I was not popular.

I discovered I was on the Island! 

It wasn't too bad, because I found a lot of other toys, just like me. We were all yearning for a place to serve. A place to grow. A place of acceptance. 

A place to be loved.

Now I was not in as bad of shape as most. I wasn't lost and abandoned. I just didn't fit.

I have literally, LITERALLY I say, patted on the head like a puppy by pastors, as they told me not to do anything.

As I watched 14 and 15 year old boys licensed and/or ordained by their fellowships, I was patted on the head and told "You need to concentrate on trying to finish high school." 

(I'll have you know I was a Dean's Student. I had only one required class my senior year because I had done it all by the end of my junior year. Try, my rear.)

I didn't fit in with the teens because most of them were trying to find the right lipstick and I was trying to find someone who wanted to disciple me. 

I ended up with bad company and two years of spiritual nightmare.

What else can a Misfit Toy do?

Yanked myself up by the bootstraps by the urging of the Holy Spirit, went to a Christian college where I did as told and met my hunny.

Our first church, after we got married, was a hoot. We were a close-knit group and I was always in a mix with the Pastor. I just questioned stuff he was teaching when it wasn't in the Scriptures. Humph!! (I'm talking like he believed there wasn't a "true" church outside that denomination!)

We moved a lot and were in several churches. Each one harder than the previous because I was discovering the God of heaven, the power and glory of the Creator and King.

And who I was. 

My family lived through excruciatingly hard times. So many in the community came to our aid. 
Along the way, Hunny and I were welcomed into a great, tough ministry. 

Tough, because we both had to unlearn old ideas that were not scriptural, but we had learned as doctrine. 

I was so expectant. I thought I had escaped the Island!!

That's where I was fooled. I had only paddled around in a circle and ended right back on the soggy shore.

As I was learning new things, I began my usual digging, reading and researching into our "new" ideals. I'm not saying they were wrong. I was asking for proof that they were right. I had believed so many things about half right for so many years, I was determined not to do it again.

I was rebuked for my rebellion and disregard of authority. 

I was supposed to teach on a specific subject. Well, told to teach it a specific way. Anyway, after a month of research, I informed our leader what I was going to say, considering I could not find scriptural basis for what she wanted me to teach. 

Did not have a pleasant conversation. Beginning of the end.

Then, my husband told me I needed to be honest about my calling.
So, I came out of the prophet closet.

After that, I was rejected by the ministry, and most all of the people in it. We have never had a close relationship since.

I was on the biggest Island ever.

As I wandered around the Island, I found other toys to pray and share with. We cried together over the slights, insults and rejections from those who should have loved us, helped us, discipled us.

We prayed, got strong, and walked in the power of the Holy Spirit. We were not popular. We learned to forgive.

I began asking God for a place to worship and work. My husband and I prayed for a word.
We began praying for a place, a ministry, somewhere to call home.

He began showing us things, little by little. We began to see a place. Not really a "church" but a place to serve the peculiar people. The odd ducks. The homeless, the forgotten. The ones who never felt 'right' at church. The searchers and dreamers. The wild and the lonely. The misfit toys.

It has been a long wait. In fact, I have been given up to despair more than once, that it would never happen.

I read an article in the local paper a few weeks ago. A couple are starting a church in the area. They are looking for folks led to help. It's not your typical church.

It's Cowboy Church.

CC is not a style of worship. Any knot-head can sing country gospel on Sunday morning. Done it myself.

It is not a "country-style" look. It is not a traditional church with a plaid shirt on.

It's the Island of Freedom for Misfit Toys.

The focus is the un-churched. The ones who don't quite fit. 

A place for me, I hope.

Now, you may say "Hey! I know what she's talking about!" I bet you do, because all of us have, at one time, been there, done that.

You might think I'll tell you get off the island you're on and get to work.

Well. Maybe you need to ask if the island is where you belong.

Perhaps He has a Church of Misfit Toys for you.

To God be the glory; great things he has done.



 "And He called the twelve together, and gave them power and authority over all the demons and to heal diseases.  And He sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to perform healing.  And He said to them, Take nothing for your journey, neither a staff, nor a bag, nor bread, nor money; and do not even have two tunics apiece. Whatever house you enter, stay there until you leave that city.  And as for those who do not receive you, as you go out from that city, shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them.”  Departing, they began going throughout the villages, preaching the gospel and healing everywhere."  Luke 9:1-6


An argument started among them as to which of them might be the greatest.  But Jesus, knowing what they were thinking in their heart, took a child and stood him by His side,  and said to them, Whoever receives this child in My name receives Me, and whoever receives Me receives Him who sent Me; for the one who is least among all of you, this is the one who is great.”  Luke 9:46-48


As they were going along the road, someone said to Him, “I will follow You wherever You go.”  And Jesus said to him, “The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.”  And He said to another, Follow Me.” But he said, “Lord, permit me first to go and bury my father.”  But He said to him, “Allow the dead to bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim everywhere the kingdom of God.”  Another also said, “I will follow You, Lord; but first permit me to say good-bye to those at home.”  But Jesus said to him, No one, after putting his hand to the plow and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.”  Luke 9:57-62


shalom