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Michelle DeRusha

Every Day Faith. Faith Every Day.

Search Results for: I am a Spiritual Misfit Series

A Journey of Life and Grace {I am a Spiritual Misfit Series}

August 15, 2014 By Michelle

I “met” Marie Bride just this past winter, when she participated in the online writing group Kimberly Coyle and I co-hosted for (in)courage. I love Marie’s sweet sense of humor and her brave willingness to plunge into a new writing group. Welcome, Marie — fellow misfit! {you can also connect with Marie on Twitter and Facebook}.

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In the beginning of 2014 I was blessed to participate in an online writing group where Michelle was one of the leaders; this allowed me to observe her wit and humor from a perspective of “tell me more.”

Later that spring, I joined the Spiritual Misfit launch team. The only problem, however, was that I joined late, so I was unable to receive a complimentary copy of the book. But where there is a will there is a way!

Not long after, I was checking my Facebook timeline and emails on my cell phone (which is not one of those fancy iPhones), and suddenly yelled out to my mother, “I won Spiritual Misfit! I’m in!” as my brother and nieces always say.

Thank You, Jesus!

When I opened the package a few days later, I discovered that Kimberly, the blogger who had hosted the giveaway, had specially wrapped the book and included a handwritten personalized note: “From one Spiritual Misfit to another. Thanks for entering the giveaway. Happy Reading! All the best, Kimberly.”

I decided not just to keep this gift to myself but to read it out loud to my mother. We are opposites – she is very outspoken and and I am an introvert.

Together we laughed till our sides hurt and cried with Michelle’s frustrations and doubts…which brings me to my own tale of misfittedness, which begins just before my third birthday.

We had moved from Michigan to California. I can still remember my mother’s announcement like it was yesterday: we were expecting a new addition to our family in the not-so-distant future.  As much as my two-and-a-half-year-old young mind could comprehend the situation, I knew I was not happy. I understood that my little world, which up to that point had been all mine, would soon be shared with a sibling.

Couldn’t I have just gotten a puppy or something?

MarieBrideI was coached and prepared to become the older sister — a process which included a photography session for a special Father’s Day photo, a gift for my dad. Dressed in a pink Swiss polka-dot party dress with matching bottoms, I was permitted to hold my favorite teddy bear in the photo. Teddy and I smiled and poised for the camera. Later, however, my misfittedness was obvious to all who saw the photograph. The picture, with Teddy’s leg caught in a ruffle, revealed I was wearing an unmatching pair of pants beneath the polka-dot dress. I finally admitted I had changed into the yellow bottoms without mom knowing after I’d wet the matching pink polka-dot pair.

Of course this is just one small story in a lifetime as a misfit on a journey of life and grace.

As I read and reread the many reviews, blog posts and comments from the Spiritual Misfit launch team, I am truly amazed at how many people find a true and sincere connection, a personal relationship, if you will, to Misfittedness.

The truth is, we are all spiritual misfits, and I am one of Christ’s misfits as well.

“My Grace is sufficient for you, for My Power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

Click here to purchase Spiritual Misfit: A Memoir of Uneasy Faith. Click here to read all the posts in the I am a Spiritual Misfit series.

Messiah'sMisfitpin

Filed Under: guest posts, Spiritual Misfit Tagged With: I am a Spiritual Misfit Series

A Simple Prayer {I am a Spiritual Misfit series}

August 8, 2014 By Michelle

I haven’t yet met today’s Misfit writer, Sharon Osterhoudt, in person, but I’m thrilled to say I will soon when our paths cross at the Jumping Tandem Retreat right here in Nebraska in May! In the meantime, I will tell you flat out: this woman’s faith amazes me. Sharon has been through a whole lot in her life, but the way she keeps her eyes and her heart tuned to God is truly an inspiration. Please give Sharon a warm welcome here today, and be sure to visit her at her blog, too.

BelovedMisfitpin2

Before I became a Christian my view of God was one of skepticism and unbelief. I thought of God as a Santa, someone who gave things to people when they asked. God was far away and not at all approachable. Jesus was a man in a storybook.

I was not raised in a Christian home, yet I do remember walking to a small church as a little girl to go to Sunday school. As I listened to the Bible stories, God and Jesus were unreachable to me, like characters in a book. I couldn’t touch them or feel them. They were songs sung to the music of an un-tuned piano.

I began to search for the meaning of life during my freshman year of high school.

We had moved again to a new rental home and another new school, and adjusting to life was normal for me. Every morning I talked with a girl at the bus stop — an honor’s student who lived with her parents in a stable home, much different from mine.

I wore the ratted up hair style like Diana Ross with fake eyelashes and white eye shadow. I listened to Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, and my life was not at all like her life, with a mom and dad and family dinners.

Every day as we waited for the bus this girl asked me questions, pursuing me and forcing me to think of God and church and life in general. Every day I argued with her. I could not see how a God could allow hard things to happen. My life experience had been much different than hers and my concept of ‘love’ was not something she could understand. We were friends speaking different languages. She challenged me often and left me with many questions.

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The girl at the bus stop told me I could test God, that I could ask Him to show me who he was. I didn’t understand or believe her words at the time. How does one test a God who seems to know everything?

But one night out of the blue I decided to test her ‘God’.

My teenage sister was a drug addict and a runaway who had been living on the streets for a long time. I missed her greatly and wanted desperately to see her. We didn’t know if she was dead or alive. I remembered what my friend had told me at the bus stop – that God hears all prayers and listens — and while I didn’t believe it, I figured I couldn’t lose anything for trying.

I prayed a very simple but bold prayer from a heart that was searching. It was a long shot and full of despair.

“God,” I prayed, “I would believe, I think I can believe you, if you can find my sister and bring her home. If you are God, if you know everything, then you can bring her home tonight. When I wake up in the morning, I want to see her sleeping in her own bed. If you can do that God, then I will believe. If you can’t, then leave me alone.”

When I woke up the next morning and looked across the room, the room my sister and I shared, she was sleeping in her own bed. Somehow in the middle of the night the police had found her. She had been beaten and was very rough-looking, and the police had called my mother and brought her home.

She was sleeping in her bed, in our room. Just what I had asked for.

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My sister didn’t stay long after that first night. I didn’t ask him to allow her to stay long. I just asked him for one night. She went back to the street, but I knew God had answered my prayer.

I believe now that God knew the only way I would trust Him, was for Him to show me an answer to a simple prayer — a prayer from the heart between an all-knowing God and a simple teen. A prayer that would become life changing for me. He knew that. Within a few months I began to trust Him, and the journey continues to this day.

I spent the remainder of my high school years in youth group activities, youth choir and surviving the home I lived in. The girl at the bus stop became my sister-in-law when we married brothers. The years since I first believed have not been easy, but God in his faithfulness has shown me over and over that as long as we ask from an honest heart, He will hear the cries of the broken.

I learned to trust when I didn’t understand the meaning. I learned about love without conditions. He was hope when I felt hopeless and peace when the peace was not found. He was love on a cross saying to me, “I care deeply for you.”

His ways are mysterious and wonderful and leave me always in awe of His abiding love. My first prayer changed my life’s direction forever.

The way God reached out to me is a wonderful and powerful reminder that He does indeed listen to the prayers of those who do not know Him.  I was a spiritual misfit, without any idea of what it meant to believe or accept or understand a love that was not ‘conditional’.

Our God is a God who hears the simple prayers of those who don’t even know what to say or how to say it. The words do not need to be fancy or eloquent, but simply from a heart that is searching.

I didn’t believe until He showed me that no matter what I believed or knew to be true, His love was always there waiting.  I will never doubt how deep, how wide, how precious His love is for us. He heard me and answered my prayer.  He cared and He valued my heart.

My name is Sharon. I am a spiritual misfit. And I will always share how great the Father’s love for us is. 

SharonOSharon is a native Oregonian. She will have been married 41  years in November, and she and her husband have two adult children and six grandchildren, two kitties and a very old dog. You can visit Sharon at her blog Something to Think About and on Facebook. 

 

 

 

Click here to purchase Spiritual Misfit: A Memoir of Uneasy Faith. Click here to read all the posts in the I am a Spiritual Misfit series.

Messiah'sMisfitpin

Filed Under: guest posts, Prayer, Spiritual Misfit, unbelief Tagged With: I am a Spiritual Misfit Series, Is God listening to my prayers?, Sharon Osterhoudt

Anyone Can Share the Good News…Even a Misfit {I am a Spiritual Misfit series}

August 1, 2014 By Michelle

I met today’s Spiritual Misfit writer, Dr. Vanessa Seifert, via our mutual friend, Deidra, who introduced us at an outdoor jazz concert here in Lincoln one warm spring evening last year. What an unexpected gift! Vanessa is super smart, warm and enthusiastic, and she’s full of a contagious energy and creativity. One of my favorite things to do — and we don’t do it nearly enough! — is to sit down with Vanessa for a good, long chat and hear what’s going on in her head. Welcome, Vanessa!

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I am a Spiritual Misfit, but here is how I came to understand that I am also His Beloved Misfit.

Some people might say that misfits are identified by their actions. I believe that our innate intentions matter too. I breathe. I am human. I have innate sin intentions (Romans 3:23). I am a Spiritual Misfit.

I was raised in a nominally Christian home. My parents regarded religion as a connection to their heritage, but their Christian faith was not expressed in our daily life together. For many reasons, they chose not to teach me about God during my childhood years. I did not become aware of the reality of sin, or of my own sin for that matter, until I was in college. It wasn’t until I switched dorms during my freshman that I first began to realize and to experience God’s great love for me and His immense love for all people.

Life in the dorm as a college freshman is a pretty sweet gig. No parents. No adults to check in with. It’s a life transition filled with possibilities. In my case, God used a group of five spiritual misfits to show me Jesus’ unconditional love during the spring semester of my freshman year in my new college dorm.

I refer to this group of girls as spiritual misfits because they didn’t hand me off to a pastor or a professional church worker when they realized I needed to learn about God. No, these young, passionate women knew that Jesus declares that all people are capable of sharing the good news of God’s grace and forgiveness (1 Peter 2:9).

God used the daily rhythms of our life together in the college dorm as a natural curriculum to teach me about Christianity. This unique environment enabled what began as information transmission to become life transformation. I learned about vulnerability, unconditional love, forgiveness and accountability as these spiritual misfits apprenticed me into the ways of Jesus.

Ultimately, I came to understand that I am also His Beloved Misfit.

I became a Christian sixteen years ago as a result of the love, care, compassion, and Scripture that these spiritual misfits shared with me. While my faith journey is rooted in a more organic way of ‘doing church’ and experiencing faith in the every day, I now have a deep love for the local established church as well.

I believe a perfect world this side of heaven would include times for the local church to gather for worship, fellowship, and learning. But after the gathering, the church would then scatter so that God’s spiritual misfits could influence others in the places where they live, work, and play.

What would it look like if every follower of Jesus became a spiritual misfit instead of relying on pastors and professional church workers to share the good news of God’s love with others? After all, God’s people are still the church when they leave the building; I am proof that His Beloved Misfits can change lives.

VanessaSeifertDr. Vanessa Seifert is a DCE-Discipleship Catalyst at Calvary Lutheran Church in Lincoln, Nebraska. In this capacity, she teaches, writes, and encourages God’s people to see a discipleship culture in all parts of their life. Her work can be summed up by her mantra: “All of life is faith and all of faith is life.” Feel free to connect with her via Twitter: @discipleshipDrV

Click here to purchase Spiritual Misfit: A Memoir of Uneasy Faith.

Messiah'sMisfitpin

Filed Under: guest posts, Spiritual Misfit Tagged With: I am a Spiritual Misfit Series, Vanessa Seifert

Awkward and Isolated No More {I am a Spiritual Misfit series}

July 25, 2014 By Michelle

I met today’s Misfit writer Susan Stilwell last year at Allume, and I was immediately smitten with her easy, laid-back demeanor and her heart for God. Susan is one of those people with whom you instantly feel comfortable – she has a gift for putting people at ease. I love, too, what Susan says in her bio at the end of this post: while we all walk different paths toward faith, God accompanies each of us, and our eternal destination is the same. Welcome, Susan – I am so grateful to have you here today, lovely friend!

 


I sat stock-still in the ornate Presbyterian sanctuary with my best friend Lisa. I gawked at the palm branch she shoved in my hand. “You’re supposed to wave it,” she whispered.

I’d spent my entire ten years of life in church, but never once waved a palm branch. I raised it high, following along and mentally piecing together the familiar Palm Sunday story. I turned my gaze from palm branches to stained glass windows to shiny organ pipes suspended above the platform. So this is the way everyone else does church, I mused.

I’m a preacher’s kid and, as a child, I knew that fact alone made me strange. Adding to the oddity, my dad is a bivocational preacher. His paying gig is electrical engineering but the Lord also called him to pastor country churches.

Country Church

Dad didn’t just pastor one congregation; he pastored four. He’s what the old-timers called a “circuit preacher.” Each Sunday of the month we traveled to a different church, many of them an hour or more away.

None of my school friends attended our churches, so the kids in our congregations were more acquaintances than friends. They were polite and friendly, but I didn’t have any day-to-day interaction with them.

The kids I did interact with, the neighborhood kids and my friends from school, knew we didn’t go to any church in town. After seeing the big beautiful church that Lisa attended, I was embarrassed to invite anyone to go to church with us. Many of our little churches were one-room buildings. We didn’t even have a piano, much less an organ. And most of them had outhouses. The shame of that was more than I could bear, especially as I entered my awkward teenage years.

“I just preach the word and love the people,” my dad would tell folks. And he did those things, but he did a whole lot more.

Besides the usual pastoral duties such preaching, visiting the sick, and “marrying and burying,” I watched my dad and mom do whatever needed to be done in our little churches. They replaced light fixtures, swept floors, washed windows, hauled brush, and brought meals. My parents modeled to their three daughters,

There is no place for stars in the church; only servants. 

As isolated as I felt back then, God used those years sitting on simple wooden pews to shape me for ministry. I heard the Word proclaimed with boldness and clarity, and those King James verses still ring in my heart and spring to my lips. No cathedral pipe organ can compare to the voices of those precious saints, simple men and women who loved the Lord and loved us.

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Those simple beginnings may have made me feel like a misfit in my little world, but they made me a perfect fit for His kingdom.

Susan Stilwell casual headshotI’m honored to share my story with Michelle’s friends, and I’ve loved reading so many of your “misfit” experiences. Isn’t it amazing the way God accompanies each us on such unique paths to faith? Although Michelle and I have walked different journeys, I love that we have the same eternal destination!

Most days Susan can be found studying and preparing to teach a message from God’s word at her church, in her community, or for a retreat. She recently returned from a month-long trip to Israel where she worked with Palestinian children and gorged herself on hummus and shawarma. She’s active on social media and would love to connect through Twitter, Facebook, and her blog, susanstilwell.com.

Click here to purchase Spiritual Misfit: A Memoir of Uneasy Faith.

Messiah'sMisfitpin

Filed Under: guest posts, Spiritual Misfit Tagged With: I am a Spiritual Misfit Series, Susan Stilwell

When You Find Jesus Where You’d Least Expect {I am a Spiritual Misfit Series}

July 23, 2014 By Michelle

I’m  grateful to have gotten to know this week’s featured writer, Kelly Greer, during an online writing group hosted by (in)courage. Kelly and I really click in a misfitty way. When I read her story, all I could think about was the first time I attended church under a backyard tent at a family reunion – the whole time thinking, “This isn’t church! This doesn’t count!” I love Kelly’s story here, and I am so grateful for her willingness to share it with you today.

 


It wasn’t your typical church building. But there it was, flanked by a karate shop on the left and a printing shop on the right.

There was no towering steeple, no stained glass windows or oversized wooden doors.   No vestibule, holy water, rows upon rows of wooden pews.  Not even an altar.

Was this really a church, I wondered?  Where was Jesus? Mary?  The apostles?  The saints and candles?  No balcony, confessionals, or organ pipes.

Just a table with coffee and bagels in back, and lots of folks wandering around in their blue jeans and sandals, laughing and hugging.

A few men huddled together in the back of the room like they do before the start of a football game, only I think they were praying—out loud–right there in the open.

We were barely inside before we were greeted with the warmest welcomes and genuine smiles.  Introductions were made and we were offered some coffee and bagels.  We explained how we had learned about the church from a friend who had been visiting from Oregon and after his continual urging, while we were hesitant, we decided we might as well check it out.  Neither of us had been in church for years.  We had remarried and were blending two families with teenagers, and we could certainly use all the help we could get.  Maybe it was time to check in with our higher power.

After bagels, everyone began to take a seat in one of the padded stackable chairs that lined the room from side to side a few rows deep.  All together, there were probably less than 100 people there.

The young man in shorts and sandals who had been pacing in the back of the building stood up in front and said “good morning, let’s pray.”  This was Pastor Pete.

Another young man and a young woman began to play guitar and sing.  And we watched as hands were lifted one by one heavenward.  Each one there, eyes closed, hearts full, and hands lifted high.  I had never before witnessed such worship and it was breathtakingly beautiful.

Throughout the service there was no sitting, kneeling or standing on command, but there was spontaneous standing and kneeling going on around us.

A bible was resting in everyone’s hands, open as the pastor taught from it, verse by verse.  I had never used a bible in church.  I was given one at my wedding, but I had never read it in church, or otherwise.  Some were even taking notes in the margins of their bibles.  It was hard to believe.

It was even harder to believe that we were not asked to fill out any forms, give our address, take home a box of envelopes, or do anything except come–just the way we were.  Come.  And so we did.  Week after week we came back. We even got bibles for everyone in the family.  Don’t get me wrong, some weeks we fought all the way there, but somehow, God kept us coming back.

I remember my husband saying at one point, “I don’t know what Fred has, but I want it.”  We wanted what they had.  And the thing is, they wanted us to have it–a personal relationship with Jesus.  And we came to know Jesus personally there.  He opened up our eyes as his word became alive and active in our hearts.

This bunch of spiritual misfits off the street found Jesus in the retail strip center where we were loved to Christ.  No one pointed out our obvious issues, the things we could not hide; the fullness of our teenage daughter’s belly, our worldly attitudes, or the newsroom fodder that had become the black cloud over our heads. No, they never judged us once–only loved us–right to the saving arms of Christ.

That was fifteen years ago.  Our bibles are torn and tattered and scribbled upon now.  Our church moved from that building long ago and eventually too far away for us to travel, but it never left our hearts.  Its people are scattered all around the country now, but they are still our church family.

While our lives have changed since then, we still have faced some really tough things.  But never alone or without hope. We may not find ourselves in perfect standing with the world, but we do find ourselves in perfect standing with God.

When I read Michelle’s memoir, Spiritual Misfit, I recalled my own story of growing up in the traditional church where rituals were the norm.  I remember thinking back then that I would never be good enough for God. I don’t know if I missed the grace message or it simply wasn’t taught there. But I do know that God found a way into my heart at that storefront church, and his words revealed the truth to me about who he is, how much he loves me just the way that I am, and that he offers me an eternal relationship with him if I only believe. He wants that for all of us.

We are his and he is ours and it is a perfect fit. 

KellyGreerKelly is a wife, mother to five, and grandmother to eleven darlings.  When she isn’t on her knees in prayer, you can find her playing with her grandchildren, pestering her husband, snorkeling down the river or writing words from the heart of a prodigal mom at The Prodigal Mom.

Click here to purchase Spiritual Misfit: A Memoir of Uneasy Faith.

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Filed Under: guest posts, Spiritual Misfit Tagged With: I am a Spiritual Misfit Series, Kelly Greer

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For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a Triple Type A, “make it happen” (my dad’s favorite mantra) striver and achiever (I’m a 3 on the Enneagram, which tells you everything you need to know), but these days my striving looks more like sitting in silence on a park bench, my dog at my feet, as I slowly learn to let go of the false selves that have formed my identity for decades and lean toward uncovering who God created me to be.

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