Ann Swindell

Coloring Inside the Lines: A Lenten Reflection

During my early years, I grew up in a church that wound its way through the months by following the liturgical church calendar. We had different-colored banners up in every season of the year, based on what was being observed in the cycle of the church. The ministers wore stoles over their robes–long pieces of fabric in vibrant hues–that matched the banners and proclaimed the season that the church was in.

When my husband and I attended an Anglican church for a couple of years, the colors, banners, and robes took on a new significance for me. These practical reminders taught me, spiritually, how to live into time as a Christian. As a student and now as a professor, my life tends to be built around the academic calendar of semesters and summers. At that church, I learned a new way of relating to time through color.

I have been thinking about this because the Church universal is now in the season of Lent–the period of time between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday that is meant to draw our hearts and minds into somber reflection. It is a season of spiritual preparation and repentance as we consider the cost that Christ paid for our sin, and as we anticipate Holy Week–the week leading up to Easter.

Unlike the blazing red of Pentecost, or even the lively green of “ordinary time,” Lenten Sundays are full of the rich purple of royalty. The color reminds us, the people of God, that the King is making his way to victory, even though the victory initially looks like defeat. It reminds us of the royalty of Jesus even as he humbles himself all the way to death on a cross.

But then comes Holy Week, and with it comes a dramatic shift in hue. Although colors differ from church to church, in my memory Palm Sunday is red, looking ahead to the blood that Christ will offer on our behalf. Maundy Thursday, the night both of communion and betrayal, is white, a simple color for a somber day. But in the late hours of Maundy Thursday, the altar, cross, and banners are stripped bare of even this white fabric, leaving the symbols of faith as naked as Christ became.

Good Friday is sheathed in black. The color of mourning, the color of death. In my town, on this singular day of the year, a prominent church in the area unfurls three huge, black panels between the columns of their church entrance. They flap all day as a reminder that death is near–and that death must come before life.

Easter, in color as well as in truth, turns everything on its head. In Christ, death is turned to life; mourning is turned to joyful celebration. Resurrection–the reversal of the normal order–occurs. White is the color of the day, a reminder that he who first appeared plain–a Jewish man who was betrayed and killed–is actually more than a man. This simple hue is also, wonderfully, a reminder that white is actually the confluence of all color, and that in the resurrection, Christ has renewed all things. Nothing is outside of his healing, restorative resurrection.

Although I am no longer part of a liturgical congregation, I find myself drawn to the richness of the tradition, and to the power that simple things like colors have to tell us about the Gospel and about how we fit into the larger story of the Church. I may not see the banners and the robes on a weekly basis, but I try to remember the significance as I walk through the Lenten season.

In these days leading up to Easter, I want to more fully ponder the royalty of Jesus, this one who left his heavenly throne for an earthly cross. I want to remember the simplicity of this god-man who was stripped bare and bled. I want to take time to mourn the true death that he died, and then to anticipate the upending power of the resurrection and the newness that he brought to all life.

I want to color inside the lines of the Gospel story this Lenten season, by letting the Gospel seep its color into me.

March 22, 2013 God

Pack and Pray: An Anti-Trafficking Event

Later this month, our church is coming together to help support women who are currently trapped in trafficked situations, practically and prayerfully. There are over 27 million slaves around the world, and multitudes of the women who are trafficked are coerced, tricked, and forced into sex slavery against their own will. These women, made in the image of God, are violated in every way imaginable–physical, spiritual, emotional, mental.

We can help.

There is hope.

In Christ, there is always hope.

On March 21st, from 7-9 pm at my house, women will come together to pray for those across the world–men, women, and children–who are trafficked. We will be calling out to God on their behalf for freedom, redemption, justice, salvation, and hope. We will be asking God to dismantle the gangs who perpetuate trafficking. We will pray that he will straighten the crookedness in governmental officials who look away when they know slavery is taking place. God hears. He is already bringing freedom and hope in pockets around the world. Just today, The A21 Campaign, one of my favorite organizations, mentioned that four more women were brought to one of their safe houses this week. Four more lives saved out of sex slavery. Four precious women who God dearly loves.

There is hope.

And we can help.

On the same night, we will also be packing up items to help launch a new safe house for trafficked victims that is starting on the West Coast of the U.S. (through our church organization).

If you would like to donate some items and bring them to pack that night, here are the needs:

-Neutral-colored towel sets
-Neutral-colored twin sheet sets
-Toiletries, including shampoo, conditioner, soap, makeup, and skin care items.
-Gift cards to Target

If you do want to donate something, here are some practicals:
-Please bring $3-5 extra dollars in order to help cover shipping costs if you are bringing a tangible item.
-Gift cards will travel better (and more cheaply) than liquids. Although it may seem impersonal, a gift card can go a long way for the safe house right now.

I am thrilled that we have the chance to practically and prayerfully parter with God’s work in the world! Please email me if you have any questions, need directions to my house, or want to drop something off earlier: ann.swindell@gmail.com

Hope to see you there!

March 1, 2013 Ending Slavery, Forfeited Life, God, Ministry

Talking with Strangers

It’s been a long while since I went out intentionally to talk with people about Jesus. Too long. Setting time aside to share about the love of Jesus with others is important but difficult, and easy for me to blow off. But the Holy Spirit has been drawing my heart again to the desire to share this Good News that lives within me like a flame. Fire can only stay pent up so long before it either breaks out or dies. And I don’t want to smolder out slowly. So, yesterday afternoon, I met up with some friends from church and we went to a local college campus to walk around, talk with people, and offer to pray with them.

I have to say, it can be almost physically awkward to walk up to someone and start talking about God. We don’t have any sort of cultural norm for it—walking up to a stranger is odd enough in our culture, let alone trying to strike up a conversation about spirituality and G-O-D. People look at you like you’re crazy, or like you forgot to put pants on. I was joking with one of my friends as we were walking around campus yesterday, saying how nice it would be if we had some sort of cultural hand symbol that signified “Hi, I don’t know you, but I’d like to talk to you about something really important. Is that ok?” Then we could just throw the hand symbol at people and see who responded. Ha.

But that is not how American culture works. To talk with someone requires actually talking with them, breaking that impenetrable silence that resides between strangers. Now, if I was asking for directions, or commenting on the weather, or telling another woman that I like her outfit, the broken silence would be acceptable. Yet when I actually try to start a conversation—an actual, meaningful conversation—it is seen as strange.

I try anyway. It is worth it. The moments when there is a crevice in the wall of silence between me and another person, the moments when I get to talk about God’s love and what he did by dying on the cross and rising again, the moments when I see a flicker of longing on that stranger’s face—it is worth it. It is only worth it because Jesus is worth it, and because the awkward moments carry the weight of dust in comparison to the love of God. I am learning, still, that my own comfort within the cultural norms of our society is a small cost in comparison with the opportunity to tell someone that the God of the universe loves her and is waiting for her with open arms.

February 22, 2013 Forfeited Life, God

The Forfeited Life: Turning Around

Last week, I was driving down one of the main roads in our city; I was on my way to a meeting and was already perilously close to being late. It was one of the days recently when the weather was in the 0-10 range, with a wind chill below zero. I was bundled up from toes to neck in my car and was still freezing, even with the heat in the car on at full blast. I could see my breath come out in in foggy swirls inside the car.

As I drove down the long stretch of road ahead of me, I came up on a young woman who was walking on the sidewalk. She had no gloves on, and no hat. I felt God nudging me to stop for her, that quiet voice of the Holy Spirit asking me to obey.

At the next light, I took a left, turned into a parking lot, and doubled back. At the awkward moment of pulling up alongside of her, I smiled as warmly as I could, pushed the passenger window down, and asked if she needed a ride somewhere. She nodded and hopped in the car as quickly as she could open the door. It was unbearably cold.

This woman was friendly and young; I introduced myself and asked where she needed to go. Her car, she said, had run out of gas and was stalled on the road a ways back. She was walking to the nearest gas station, which was still another half mile ahead.

“I’m so sorry that it’s so cold out there,” I said.

“Yeah, it’s really cold. My two-year old is in the car waiting for me with our friend.”

We chatted about little bits of nothing until we made it to the gas station.

If she had continued walking to the gas station and then back to her car, it would have taken her another 45 minutes–at least–to get back to her car with gas and turn the heat on for her son. The whole process of me picking her up, driving her to the gas station, picking up a gallon of gas, and driving back to her car probably took seven minutes. Thank you, God, for giving me your eyes to see her. This was his care for her, I knew. It wasn’t about me at all. I was just offering a car, a quicker way out of a situation that any one of us could find ourselves in on a cold day–stuck in a dead car that’s out of gas, without alternative options.

After she added a gallon of gas to the red portable container the attendant gave to her, we chatted on the way back to her car. I told her I was pregnant with my first child; she said the twos were terrible. We laughed. I invited her to church and, at a stop light, scribbled my name and phone number on a piece of paper. She smiled, thanked me, and got out of the car. I could see the profile of her son in the backseat.

I made it to my meeting. I was late. It didn’t matter at all.

February 15, 2013 Forfeited Life, God

The Forfeited Life: Stepping Up

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound.
–Jesus

For well over a year, now, God has been stirring a desire in my heart to somehow, some way, get involved as an advocate for trafficked women. This week, I am taking practical steps toward that calling by starting to plan an event to directly benefit these women and by taking time to pray for what needs to change for these women to be freed, both physically and spiritually.

I’m also toying with the idea of opening my Etsy store back up, with the sole vision of turning any and all profits toward stopping the slave trade. I don’t work for any government agency, I don’t create policy, and I don’t have the freedom in my schedule to take six months off to go intern at a rehabilitation house for trafficked women across the globe (although I wish I did…maybe some day…). What I do have to give is my time, my prayers, my energy, and my money. I have so much, so incredibly much. Really, any of us who live without the constant reality of being violated physically and emotionally have immensely more than we can fathom in comparison to the women, children, and men sold into slavery approximately every 30 seconds. It is my time to step up, my time to be a voice for those whose voices have been robbed from them. I may not have worldly power, or fame, or prestige to move mountains on behalf of these people, but I have a Father in heaven who does. He is the mover of mountains, the healer of every heart. He has come to set the captives free—and I want to partner with him.

February 8, 2013 Ending Slavery, Forfeited Life, God

Lewis on Suffering

“That is what mortals misunderstand. They say of temporal suffering, ‘no future bliss can make up for it,’ not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory.”

-from The Great Divorce, by C.S. Lewis

February 4, 2013 God, Quotes

The Forfeited Life: Interruptions

One of the values of our church is discipleship. In the scriptures, we see that Jesus was intentional about his relationships with the twelve, and as he was leaving earth, his command to his followers is that “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:18-20). It was important to Jesus that his church continue to make disciples—followers who reproduce the life of Jesus in themselves and help others do the same. This is how the church continues multiplying and growing across the earth—not primarily through programs or even Sunday services, but through life-on-life relationship that draws us closer to Christ and one another.

It doesn’t always feel like a great cost to me, personally, to disciple other women—one of my strengths on the Strengthsfinder test (which I recommend!) is “Developer.” I enjoy helping others develop, grow, and live out of a place of vibrancy and health in their relationship with God. Meeting with women on a regular basis, asking them questions, challenging them, encouraging them in their walk with God—these are things I love. So it does not feel like a “forfeit” as much as other things in my relationship with God. But it is a cost. People are messy. I’m messy. Very messy. Bring two messy lives together regularly and there will be more to work through, more to grow in. This is where the cost comes in. Women need to talk when I don’t think I have the time to talk. Women want to get together when I don’t feel like having my schedule interrupted. Women need help with things that I’m not good at, things that take time and energy from me. These women—women I love and care about—they don’t live on my schedule. They have different relational needs than I do. They require sacrifice.

I’m nearly six months pregnant with our first child—a little girl who is coming in May. We couldn’t be more excited and, to be honest, I already feel a little mystified about how parenting will work. I have seen the transition in the lives of some of my best friends—I know that my life will change, drastically and dramatically, forever. Children are the most intimate disciples any person can have. They live with you day in and day out, they see you at your worst and best. They know how you really live.

I think about my daughter, about who she will be and how she will respond to God—and my heart is to be a mother who disciples her well. I want to be a mother who understands the messiness that she and I both bring to the table. I want to respond to her need for time and conversation and help when she interrupts my life—which she will do, beautifully, starting in May and then every day afterwards. Her life will be one giant interruption into my own. But if I will respond like Jesus, I think I will experience that interruption is an opportunity for life, true life. Because all life requires sacrifice. I see this with the women I disciple—if I allow my life to be interrupted by theirs, we both grow in our love for God and one another. The cost is followed by unexpected reward.

Life requires sacrifice—Jesus knew this best of all. If I am to follow him, to let my life be forfeited for His, to let my life be swallowed up by Life, this is one of the many lessons. The interruptions of discipleship, of parenting, of living, are some of the pathways to this fuller life—a life lived not for myself, but for the One who is Life itself.

February 1, 2013 Forfeited Life, God, Ministry

The Forfeited Life Spotlight: Elisabeth Elliot

After my freshman year in college, I went to England for seven weeks through a study abroad program. Our first week during the trip was spent in London, and on Sunday most of us went to a small church that one of our professors recommended. It was a church built out of grey stone, cool on the inside and airy.

During the service, the pastor announced that they had a guest speaker present, an American woman who would be sharing her testimony with the congregation. She had been a missionary for many years, he noted, and she had lost her first husband as a result of such missionary work. The woman he was introducing was Elisabeth Elliot.

I nearly fell out of the pew. During my first year in college, Elisabeth Elliot had become a literary mentor to me through her book Passion and Purity. I read about her life with fascination and awe, as well as with a sense of closeness—years before, she had been a student at the college I was attending, and while I read the book I sat in some of of the same places she described within her pages.

This book challenged and touched me for many reasons, one of which was that it is a book about Elisabeth’s love story with Jim Elliot, how the two fell in love and then surrendered this love to the Lord for five years until they were married. There were months when the two could not communicate, years when they only saw one another for a few days at a time. Their story of God’s provision and their commitment to purity is truly incredible; their love is the stuff of fairy tales.

Elisabeth’s life, however, has not been a fairy tale. Less that two and a half years after their marriage in 1953, Jim and four other men went to share the Gospel with the Auca people, a native tribe in Ecuador. All five men were speared to death, and Elisabeth was left as a single mother. Instead of folding into herself, however, Elisabeth soon took her young daughter and went back to the jungle, back to the same Auca tribe that had killed her husband. She went to share the Gospel with them, and through her strength, courage and faithfulness to the vision she believed God had given to her a Jim, many in the tribe of self-proclaimed killers came to faith in Christ and gave up their murderous ways.

Sitting in that church in England, I was overwhelmed with emotion as I heard her speak about her life and faith in Christ. I could not believe that it was actually Elisabeth Elliot standing 15 feet in front of me—this woman whose words has shaped me so deeply was in the same room! I still don’t know why she was at that small church in England on the one particular Sunday when I happened to be across the world in the same church. Whatever the reason, I know that morning was a gift.

Although she has written many books and has spoken across the world, Elisabeth Elliot is not flashy, she is not self-focused and she does not even have an “issue” that she is campaigning for—hers is a message of a God who is faithful, regardless of the circumstances. In her own circumstances of losing Jim to Auca spears and her second husband to cancer, she has stayed the course and has lived as a testimony of Christ’s sufficiency in a world that increasingly tells us otherwise. In Passion and Purity, she asks herself:

“…The question to precede all others, which finally determines the course of our lives is, What do I really want? Was it to love what God commands…and to desire what He promises? Did I want what I wanted, or did I want what He wanted, no matter what it might cost?” (Passion and Purity, 41)

Elisabeth Elliot decided, again and again, that she wanted what God wanted, no matter what the cost. Her life is a deep witness to God’s ability to work in a woman completely surrendered to Him.

She is a beautiful example of living the forfeited life.

January 29, 2013 Forfeited Life, Forfeited Life Spotlight

The Forfeited Life: Travel Stop

So how have I sought to live the forfeited life recently?

I felt the nudge from the Holy Spirit to talk to the cleaning lady in a bathroom about Jesus. Michael and I were on our way down to Nashville, TN, for a quick vacation to reconnect, rest, and rejuvenate. Unsurprisingly, I had to use the bathroom approximately every two hours (I am five months pregnant…), and we stopped at one of those major truck stops, there was an employee cleaning the stalls. I had the distinct sense that God wanted me to talk with her, and so I said hello. Then I told her that God wanted her to know that He loved her.

We talked for a couple of minutes—I shared the love of Jesus with her. Her response? A simple, unexceptional, “I know.” There were no lightning bolts from the sky, no tears, no moment of salvation or even a moment of real tenderness. But she got to hear the good news that the God of the universe loved her, particularly and specifically. She heard, maybe for the first or the one thousandth time, that the love of God made manifest in Jesus was actually for her. What she will choose to do with that news is in her hands. My responsibility—of responding to the One who has given me love and life—was to share that love.

It was a small moment of forfeiting for me, surely. It didn’t require a huge sacrifice. But all the same, there was a moment where I chose to stay in the bathroom and talk with a stranger rather than simply walk out and pretend I never felt the Holy Spirit nudge me. Those are the choices I make daily; whether to respond to the whispers of God and forfeit my schedule, my reputation, my time to him, or whether to do what I have planned on doing, regardless of what He is saying. I do not always choose to say yes to God. I want to have a bigger, quicker “yes” to him every moment of the day. This blog is a way for me to choose, even more, to say yes to him. Moments of saying yes—I want a lifetime of small and big yeses to God. I want to live the forfeited life.

January 25, 2013 Forfeited Life

The Forfeited Life Spotlight: Christine Caine

In case you’ve never heard of her, Christine (Chris) Caine is one of my living heroes. She is a woman of tenacious faith and unbridled action. Through the organization she founded, The A21 Campaign, she is seeking to abolish slavery in the 21^st century. I have heard her speak and I have been challenged and inspired by her life. She is a woman who is living the forfeited life.

She desires to see the local church “rise up and make a difference in the lives of hurting people around the world” (christinecaine.com), and is doing that through A21, through her books, and through Equip & Empower Ministries.

Personally, my heart is most stirred by her work with A21. The organization seeks to educate and prevent trafficking, it runs several safe houses for victims of trafficking in Europe, and it is also prosecuting traffickers with the goal of bringing them to justice. With offices in six countries and nearly 5,000 registered abolitionists through their website seeking to end trafficking in this century, A21 is changing how the everyday person can get involved with stopping slavery.

Christine Caine spends a lot of time traveling, educating, writing, and speaking to people around the world. I heard her say once that, at the end of time, she does not want to be caught “entertaining Christians”—she would rather be at the ends of the earth, reaching the lost and helping those who cannot help themselves.

To see why I’m so excited about A21, check out their website or watch this video.

January 22, 2013 Forfeited Life, Forfeited Life Spotlight, God

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