Island of the Misfit Toys

This weekend I had the great pleasure of participating in a poetry slumber party with some friends I met at University of Houston's Boldface Writer's Conference. I began writing poetry in high school (um, who doesn't write poetry in high school) but got serious about it at Carnegie Mellon where I majored in creative writing. When I started writing songs just after I graduated I stopped writing poetry- at least the non musical kind- and hadn't picked it up until a trip to Laity Lodge this past Spring inspired me to start writing again. Inspired feels like too flimsy a word. It's a valve that I had sealed shut, as the season's of my life turned me away from poems and toward marriage, moving across the country, having a child and the like. That weekend in the Hill Country the valve blew and poems have been flowing, for better or worse, ever since.

Today at Ecclesia, Chris Seay talked about divine appointments. About how sitting next to someone on a plane or in a restaurant can be an invitation to sacred conversation. Lives, mine and yours, can be changed because of a seemingly chance meeting. This is how I feel about my poetry friends. It's funny; I went to Boldface with the intent to leave my church stuff at the door. I had just left the church where I worked for 5 years and I needed a moment, a pause, to be among people who love the other thing in my life- words. Being around people who love God is awesome, but we all know the church can be a bubble. And bubbles are suffocating.

Not an hour into the workshop and the Jesus issues came out. I don't say this lightly. There were about 8 of us in our group and I can almost say for certain that each poet wrestled with the things of God in at least on of their four workshop pieces. Mostly these poets had been hurt by some part of the church- a priest, a pastor, a friend, a parent, a grandparent. It had left a scar, a wound that was still working it's way to the surface years later.

Sarah (not her name) is one such person. Sarah is smart. Really, really smart. Really, really, really smart and sensitive. She was a committed part of a church until as a teenager she went on a mission trip to Russia. She said it felt bad- invasive- condescending to the people of that country- to go in the way they did. I can only imagine it involved brightly colored t-shirts. She also didn't like how everyone at her church acted all happy all the time. She said "Nobody is that happy all the time." Other things happened to Sarah in regard to her life at her church and she left. But in her work, God is there. Working His way to the surface.

After our slumber party I spent a few moments talking to Sarah and her mother about Ecclesia. Her mother told me that her youngest child, sensitive and artistic, is being bullied in the youth group at their suburban church- for being sensitive and artistic. I explained how everyone at Ecclesia- or at least it appears so- is sensitive and artistic. Alot of people seem to be drawn there to rebuild their sense of self in the context of faith. It's a place where your sensitivity, your creativity, your weirdness and eccentricities are not mocked or ridiculed. They're celebrated.

So being someone who likes words, I described Ecclesia to Sarah and her mom as something like the Island of the Misfit Toys. And as I said it I realized that we were having a moment, a sacred conversation right there on a sweltering neighborhood street in Montrose.

For those of you who are wondering what I am talking about- remember that particularly heart wrenching part of the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer Christmas special? (Which happens to be the longest running Christmas special in tv history, according to wikipedia at least.) King Moonracer is a flying Lion who searches the world each night for toys who are abandoned and unloved,bringing them back to his Island where they become a part of community. (Um, Aslan?) There is Charlie in a Box (misfit status= b/c he's not a "Jack in the box"), a polka dotted lion and a depressed rag doll- among other toys. Rudolph and his misfit friend (an elf who wants to be a dentist) find sanctuary among them while on a treacherous journey of identity. Even thought they're not toys, they fit in, and they can rest a while.

Ecclesia is a place that should have "All Misfit Toys are Welcome Here" above it's entryway. It's a place where you can let your freak flag fly and you will be welcomed. There will be no fake "Gap" greeting as you enter. Just a throng of other folks like you. Bankers, bus boys, doctors, artists and students. Prostitutes, pastors, carpenter's and millionaires. Come one and all.

Ecclesia is a church where my poet friends will come. They will sense something is different about this place. They will not stand out. They will not be asked to wear a nametag. They will fit in quite nicely. Heck, they may even catch a glimpse of a flying Lion, a spotted elephant, or a Charlie in a Box. It's Montrose, so you just never know who might show up.