And Now a Word From Some of Our Volunteers!

Neon sign saying "Hello" on a metal wall

Editor’s Note:  In this issue, you’ll be hearing from one volunteer leader and two summer interns. We hope their stories encourage you and give you a little insight into the hearts of some of our volunteers here at Outpost.

From David G.

I came to Outpost knowing I needed help but thinking I had done the majority of the healing work myself. All I thought I needed were a few pointers and a little practice. What I found was a group of men who had the same vocabulary for the painful inner experiences that I thought I alone had to deal with. As a result, I was filled with hope that I was not alone or faulty in some fundamental way. There was an audacious idea that more healing than I ever thought possible was available. And it was all because these brave men had walked through the same things I had, and come through to greater healing than I had previously imagined. I found a community that labels me a son of God, nothing more and nothing less. When I forget, this community helps me remember who I am and where I am going. I encountered God in my heart here. Through my time with Outpost, I’ve seen my heart change from serving only my own selfish desires, to desiring to share God’s mercy with others. The song, “The Blessing,” by Kari Jobe, has a verse that reads “in the morning, in the evening / in your coming, and your going / in your weeping, and rejoicing / He is for you. He is for you.” I want to spend my life in such a way that everyone knows – He is for you. He is always for you.

From Jaimie M.

Hi friends, my name is Jaimie! I want to share a bit about my experience with Outpost Ministries! When I first came to Outpost, I was a new believer who was on a healing journey and trying to figure out who I was in God’s eyes. Before meeting Jesus, I identified as a lesbian. I was using self-harm as a way to cope with past sexual trauma, and I was lost in a whirlwind of terrible lies I believed about myself. At first, I wasn’t sure what to expect. but I knew God was telling me to go through the Living Waters program that Outpost offered. And let me tell you, that was where some of my biggest breakthroughs happened. I learned a lot about how my past wounds were affecting me and was able to invite Jesus into different situations and allow Him to heal my heart. My small group was a safe place where I was able to process heavy things and receive prayer and encouragement from others. For the first time, things were finally making sense and Jesus was revealing more and more to me who I was and who He has called me to be. After two times through the Living Waters program, I took a big step and joined the leadership team last fall. I have always had a heart to serve and share my story to inspire others. I think one of the most rewarding things for me personally has been watching Jesus move in people’s lives.

From Scott R.

My name is Scott, and I have been involved with Outpost for about a year-and-a-half. Being with Outpost has been a very valuable, though difficult, experience as I grow in walking out my masculinity with the Lord, as well as finding freedom and joy in Christ that I am able to pass on to others. In my time with Outpost, God has brought healing to my masculine identity and my acceptance that I am a man, as well as other deep healing. I have learned how to grieve my wounds with Him and trust Him to bring healing and transformation, to fight for me, and to bring renewal to my mind.

When I was asked by Pastor Jonathan to consider doing an internship with Outpost, I was thrilled! I have a heart to serve, and being able to contribute to an organization that means so much to me excites me. As part of my internship, I am writing a paper on Biblical gender and sexuality. My desire is to dig deeper into the Scriptural basis of what Outpost teaches so I can not only grow from this, but also be equipped to teach others about these topics. This is especially important in a culture that sends many mixed messages that make it difficult for Christians to focus on the biblical basis for what it means to be whole. I have enjoyed being able to serve so far this summer, and I trust God to use this internship to strengthen and produce eternal fruit in me.

As you can see, Outpost is so blessed to have volunteer leaders and interns who step out of the cultural mainstream and choose to walk in Biblical purity. We are grateful to have their hands to serve and their energy around the office as we serve Jesus and His body together.

From The Director

Sometimes the Bible can be pretty quirky. That might sound weird coming from a pastor, but before you grab the torches and pitchforks, hear me out. There’s a very short story in 2 Kings 6:1-7. The prophet Elijah is with a couple men doing some log-cutting. One of the guys loses an ax-head in the water and cries out, “No, no, no, no! I borrowed that!” If you ever lost or broke something that belonged to someone else, you know that sick-to-your-stomach feeling. Instead of diving in and looking for the ax-head like a normal person, Elisha asks where it fell in, throws a stick in that spot, and waited for the iron to float so the man could pick it up.

I think that’s a little overkill. Didn’t anyone know how to swim? Did they really need to break the laws of physics for one ax-head? Really?! If that’s not quirky, I’m not sure what is. However, I think it illustrates an important point about God–He cares about the mundane.

Throughout my time teaching and meeting with clients this month, God has been reminding me of this . He is not only transcendent; He is also imminent. He is not just in the abstract; He is in the practical. He cares about our ax-head moments and wants to meet us there.

Not only that, I would argue this is the primary way He reveals Himself to us. Our faith isn’t built on abstract moral or legal principles. It’s not an esoteric revelation. Rather, our faith is built upon the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah. God revealed Himself in flesh and blood, dwelt among us, and will dwell among us again!

A lot of us romanticize encountering God. We believe it must be some extraordinarily big experience. Basically, we have great expectations we place upon God when, really, we should simply have expectancy. Expectancy is open to whatever God has for us today or in this moment. This is what the healing journey looks like at Outpost. It isn’t only about crazy breakthrough moments (those do happen, though!), but it’s about the consistent, every day choice to choose God above all else. To trust that He will be working and encountering us in the small and simple as well as the awesome and abstract.

God cares so deeply about us and He wants to reveal that love to us, not just in abstract theological terms, but especially in those practical moments of everyday life and lost ax-heads.

Encounter, Community, and Perseverance

Shoots of a green plant in a terra cotta pot representing growth and perseverance

I first came to Outpost as the volunteer Media Director years ago. I recently went back through some of the video footage that I shot in those early days. It brought me tears. It was so unexpected, but I was confronted with literal evidence of dear brothers and sisters who used to wear their shame and pain on their faces. I know them today as ones with shining faces, faces filled with the confidence of being loved by God and by their community. My favorite part about ministry at Outpost is watching the light of Christ fill the countenance of our participants. They are still on their healing journey, but they have been transformed into ever-increasing glory (2 Cor. 3:18).

There are three fundamental things that I’ve found to be necessary on the healing journey: encounter with the living, relational God; healthy community; and perseverance. I’d like to share a bit about each.

Encounter

“Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” James 4:8a.

We have this great promise, that when we give God our weak yes, He will answer. When we draw near to God, He draws near to us. When we knock, the door will be opened to us. When we seek, we will find.

It is necessary, vital, and inescapable that we need encounter with God to be changed. Transformation is a work of the Holy Spirit. It is not something that we can conjure up or fake. Our part is a necessary “Yes” to the process of discipleship and encounter.

This need for encounter is fundamentally why we’re partnered with the Prayer Room. It’s not that there is something especially ‘spiritual’ about the modality of our Prayer Room compared with other prayer practice. The healing partnership with Outpost is really about time. What the Prayer Room affords is extended hours of prayer that force us to stop running from our pain; confront our boredom and cold hearts; and get beyond our own navel-gazing to pray for others.

It can be difficult at first to face into our lack of hunger for God, but in the repeated devotion of time, He encounters us and softens our hearts. In that space of prayer, communion, and encounter, He transforms us.

Community

“…if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanses us from all sin.” 1 John 1:7

Most of us have struggled at some point with belonging, feeling left out, or unwanted. For those of us who have struggled with addictive or compulsive sin, there is a correlation between our sin struggles and our lack of community. When I am cut off from community, I am at highest risk of giving into the enemy. When I am surrounded with support from the body of Christ, I am empowered to overcome by the experience of real love.

It’s a powerful thing to be loved on our worst day. It’s a powerful thing to know that someone will stand with us when we can’t stand ourselves. It’s also painful, because broken humans hurt each other, but as we risk, choose to trust, and learn to forgive as we have been forgiven, we find belonging and transformation.

Perseverance

“Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” James 4:7

The work of healing is hard. The enemy comes in with discouragement and, like the serpent in the garden, with variations of “Did God really say?” or “Does God love you, really?”

We can’t dictate what transformation will look like, but if we persevere, it will happen. In my own journey, I always came to the Lord with my laundry list of things to fix. Typically, He ignored my list and gently worked on something else. This was not because of some sort of cheap grace but rather a fundamental fault in my understanding. God was concerned, not with my punishment, but with my healing. As I learned to submit to His Lordship on a daily basis–regardless of my feelings of rebellion, fatigue, boredom, or even joy–He transformed me.

What results from encounter, community, and perseverance? Transformation. It’s not a myth or a fanciful idea. It’s real, it’s the work of the Holy Spirit, and it’s the desire of the Father for us. (Jeremiah 29:11).

We Need You

We want Outpost to continue to stand as a beacon of hope for transformation. As we approach our annual fundraising banquet, we need to raise $41,000 for this year of ministry. If the message of transformation resonates with you, there are a few ways that you can help us:

Consider sponsoring a table. If you are financially able, this is a profound tool to help spread the message of hope. When you sponsor a table and invite people from your network, you are inviting them into hope. Every year at the banquet, we hear from people who are hearing testimonies of transformation for the first time–it’s powerful to see the way their hearts come alive.

Attend or make a gift. You may not be in a position to sponsor a table, but every gift we receive is an important part of our mission.

Pray. We wouldn’t be here without the sustaining power of prayer, and we continue to need your support. Please continue to partner and stand with us in this way, and do not discount this critical ministry. You matter to us!

To register for the banquet or make a donation, CLICK HERE

Drinking the Cup of Life

Silver Cup

The Cup. It’s a universal symbol. It’s not just something humans use to drink. Many cups speak of victory—soccer cups, football cups. These cups speak of bravery, fame, and great power. Many cups also speak of death. The cups in Isaiah and Jeremiah are the cups of God’s wrath and destruction. Then there is Jesus’ cup, a symbol of life filled with sorrows and joys that we can hold, lift, and drink.

Nine years ago, I was sitting at a local coffee shop, terrified to tell the first person about my struggle with same-sex-attractions. While waiting for my friend, I sat sipping my coffee, reading Luke 22:24 about 100 times before he showed up, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (NIV).

Jesus was willing to drink the cup; I wanted nothing to do with the cup I had been given. I had no idea what was even in my cup. I was comfortable, living a life of fantasy and addiction, and I had no idea what my reality was. I couldn’t feel anything. I came to Outpost six years later. As I shared my story with leaders for the first time and heard their stories, I began to confront the very things I had vowed I wouldn’t talk about again.

Drinking the cup we’ve been given, however, is much more than gulping down whatever happens to be in there. In our American way, we want the quickest possible result, but the Holy Spirit is in for the process of holiness. 

Holding the Cup. Well-renowned priest and author Henri Nouwen writes, “Holding the cup of life is a way of looking critically at who we really are, accepting our various skills, inadequacies and differences from others, and rejoicing in our radical singularity.”

I recently visited a vineyard and took an informal class on drinking wine. The sommelier taught us how to properly hold a wine glass, how to smell the aroma, how to cleanse the palate, and how to best taste the wine presented and enjoy the full experience. It takes all five senses to fully enjoy a good glass of wine. You have to know what you’re drinking, and you have to be able to talk about it.

Holding the cup of life means looking critically at the lives we are living. Just living our lives is not enough. We have to process, reflect, contemplate, discuss, and form opinions about it, just like wine tasting. This is living: looking deeply into our lives at the things that make us human—a living, breathing being with a body, soul, and spirit, in all our uniqueness and imperfections.

It takes great courage and can be terrifying. But don’t run, as this will be your first inclination. Confront it. Hold the cup. Ask Christ for more revelation, more truth, and more resolve.

The Cup of Sorrow. Some of us are all too familiar with the cup of sorrow. We have all experienced sadness, pain, grief, and hardship. Before coming to Outpost, though, I had hidden my sorrow in years of fantasy and addiction. All of the things I did to avoid the pain hurt me much more than actually feeling the pain would have.

I have now experienced deep sorrow over my struggle and for not owning my story for so long. I’ve had to mourn the lost years of my adolescence and young adult years. Even now, it is still painful that God has not quickly given me what I have most desired: complete freedom from same-sex attractions, addiction, and comparison. In embracing my pain, however, I’ve discovered my desire to have deep, healthy intimacy. The unfulfilled needs for affirmation remain alive in me.

Is there pain you’re running from? What are the ugliest parts of your soul, the things that cause the most shame? What are the things you have vowed that you’d never speak of to anyone?

Pain is not a mistake to hide or fix, it’s a traveling professor. When pain knocks on the door, wise ones breathe deep and say, “Come in. Sit down with me. And don’t leave until you’ve taught me what I need to know.” Pain is not something to run from. Rather, we need to run to it because that’s where healing happens. The discomfort is purposeful: it is there to teach us what we need to know so we can become who we were meant to be.

Before His crucifixion, Jesus said, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by” (Matt. 26:39). Jesus felt like he couldn’t drink the cup filled to the brim with sorrow and pain. But Jesus had a bond with the One He called “Abba”. Jesus didn’t drink the cup out of will power, determination, or great heroism. He possessed with Abba a trust beyond betrayal, a surrender beyond despair, and a love beyond all fears.

After Jesus’ prayer, Luke mentions, “Then an angel appeared to him, coming from heaven to give him strength” (22:43). In times of deep pain and sorrow, we have access to this strength. Dare I say the cup of sorrow, as extremely difficult as it seems, also leads to the cup of joy. Only when we discover this in our own lives an we consider drinking it.

The Cup of Joy. For anyone who has the courage to enter deeply into our human sorrows, there is a revelation of joy. Jesus’ life is not one of only sorrow that ended in his crucifixion. His beautiful life with sacred wounds continues in His glory and the glory of His Father.

The risen Lord invites all people into his new and eternal life. Jesus, who cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” also said in total surrender, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” Jesus, who participated fully in all of our pain on the cross, wants us to participate fully in His joy. He wants us to be a people of joy! Jesus’ “yes” while he was in the Garden was one of unconditional trust in His Father. It gave Him the ability to drink His cup, not in passivity or spite, but with the full knowledge that the hour of His death would also be the hour of His glory.

Lifting the Cup. Henri Nouwen defines lifting the cup as “an invitation to affirm and celebrate life together. It means joining in community and sharing our cravings, our fantasies, our shame or vulnerabilities and giving others permission to do likewise in a spirit of blessing, of giving thanks.”1 When each of us can hold firm our own cup, claiming it as our own, it is then that we can lift it up for others to see.

When we lift our cup together in community, it is a way to celebrate the truth that we all carry wounds. In a place of mature, safe community, these wounds become areas of healing. Lifting our cup is a gesture of hope.

I am a fiercely independent person, but I’m also a fiercely relational person. In our “I can do it myself” society, I hid my need of relationship in fear and shame. It wasn’t until I understood vulnerability, until I trusted my brothers and lifted my cup, allowing them to see me, that relationship happened. Grace and mercy happened. I learned that we are wired for struggle, but we are also worthy of love and belonging.

You are a good gift. Life is not something to be ashamed of, but it is a gift to be shared with others. The cup filled with sorrow and joy, when lifted for others to see, can become the cup of life.

 Drinking the Cup. Henri Nouwen says, “Drinking the cup of life is fully appropriating and internalizing our own unique existence, with all its sorrows and joys. It’s a challenge to forthrightly acknowledge who we are, to forsake the entrapments of our addictions, compulsions, and sins and to be fully trusting in God and Jesus who, in a spirit of unconditional love, accepted his ministry with all its consequences.”1

Drinking the cup makes us own everything we are living. This isn’t “making the best of it” or “dealing with the cards you’ve been dealt”. It’s agreeing, “This is my life, and dare I say, with all of the sorrow and joys, I want this to be my life.”

When we do not drink our cup, avoiding the sorrows and joys of life, our lives become inauthentic, insincere, superficial, and boring. We are like puppets controlled by the world surrounding us. We remain victims of other people. Drinking our cup is a hopeful, courageous, grace-filled way of living. It is standing in the world, solidly rooted in the knowledge of our true identity in Christ, still becoming who we were created to be.

 Drinking to the Bottom. In Matthew 20:20-23, the mother of James and John asked Jesus if He would grant her sons to sit next to Him in His kingdom. Jesus replied, “You don’t know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?” James and John responded, “We can.” They had no idea what they were saying yes to. They had no idea that Jesus would be tortured and killed on a cross. They had no idea how easy it would be to say “yes” initially and that the subsequent “yeses” would become increasingly difficult. All they knew was that they had been deeply touched by the man Christ Jesus.

Jesus’ invitation to us to drink the cup without offering the reward we expect is the great challenge of the spiritual life. It turns our hope of a comfortable, predictable future upside down. It calls for radical trust in God, the same trust that made Jesus drink the cup to the bottom.

We have to drink our cup slowly, embracing all of the joys and sorrows, drinking all the way to the bottom, as Christ did. As we drink it, writes Nouwen, we will realize that the One who has called us “The Beloved,” even before we were born, is filling it with everlasting life.

1Nouwen, H. (n.d.). Henri Nouwen’s Intimate Letters Shed Light on his ‘Theology of the Heart’. Retrieved from http://henrinouwen.org/henri-nouwens-intimate-letters-shed-light-theology-heart/