"You don't deserve God's love, but God loves you anyway."

I posted a Facebook status this week stating how I wrestle with some of the Christianese we speak. "You don't deserve God's love, but God loves you anyway." The comments on my page were varied, passionate, and showed me once more how we come to know God, experience life with Christ, and share it differently. I love that "being a Christian" isn't a formula. To me, the diversity in the answers and the common threads confirm how God is both so steadfast and multi-dimensional. 

When we try to unpack what it means to "deserve love" we come at it from all different directions. Some of us believe we don't deserve God's love - that we are sinners, in awe of God's forgiveness and sacrifice. Others see themselves as God's beloved child - and like a baby, there is no need to earn or do anything to be loved, we simply deserve God's love because we are his creation. Popular Christian music these days doesn't make it the question of "deserving or not" any easier.

From Don't Deserve You by Plumb:
I don't deserve your love
But you give it to me anyway
Can't get enough
You're everything I need
And when I walk away
You take off running and come right after me
It's what you do
And I don't deserve you

From Gold by Britt Nicole:

This is for all the girls, boys all over the world

Whatever you've been told, you're worth more than gold

So hold your head up high, it's your time to shine

From the inside out it shows, you're worth more than gold
(Gold gold, oh yeah yeah Gold, gold)
You're worth more than gold
(Gold gold oh yeah yeah Gold, gold)

So don't let anybody tell you that you're not loved
And don't let anybody tell you that you're not enough
Yeah there are days when we all feel like we're messed up
But the truth is that we're all diamonds in the rough
So don't be ashamed to wear your crown
You're a king you're a queen inside and out

Here in this tension I sit, a sinner, a child. I am both desperate for a love I can't fathom and freed by a love that has always been.

Over the past couple of years God has been moving me toward grace for myself and others. I'm learning to live out of love vs. fear, failure, and shame. I'm so very grateful for the ways I've come to see the entire story of God as a story of redemption, forgiveness, and freedom. This is a story in which I find such peace even though so much of it I don't understand. It boggles my mind that you and I get to be a part of that story! When I operate out of the knowledge and belief that I am deserving of God's love because He made me, wants relationship with me, and is "for me," I throw off the sin that so easily entangles because I can see it doesn't fit with who I am at the core...Who I was since the moment God knit me together.

I work with children and women everyday who I believe need to know that they don't have to strive for God's love, they simply have to accept it and soak in it. My best pastoral advice seems to be: Marinate your life in the fact that you are God's beloved...that all people are God's chosen ones. It takes courage and trust to be ok being embraced, guided, held, carried, and empowered by the Holy Spirit. But it's here, in that place of faith, we find rest for our weariness, hope for our struggles, and a well of unfailing love. It takes surrender to not only believe we sin and need a Savior, but it takes surrender to believe we are loved.

Treasures in Heaven and Earth

Last weekend I went to a conference where the speaker asked us to think about what we might do if we were willing to "paddle out" a little further into the waves. To live with less fear and more trust. I wrote down I'd write more/share more. It was a surfing analogy that mirrors the theme of MOPS this year, "Be you bravely." As a mentor mom for MOPS, I've been feeling the obligation not only to speak into that theme, but to live it. This fall I've been reading "Daring Greatly" and "The Cure" for the weekly women's Bible study I help lead. Both of these incredible books cover the subjects of vulnerability, being known, and the disconnection we feel and fear when we allow shame to rule our responses, actions, and thoughts. The message to be courageous, open, honest, and ME is coming from about every direction I turn these days. 

I know blog posts don't always have to be quite so self-focused, but in the name of paddling out, bravery, vulnerability, and kicking shame to the curb, here goes. 

My eldest daughter is a senior in high school, my baby is an 8th grader. Transitions are looming. I'm a couple years into my 40's and not even close to figuring out how to do the simple things in life well with any consistency. Simple stuff...you know, like how much/when/what to: eat, exercise, be wifely, motherly, neighborly, friendly. The basics. I'm feeling about as tender as a turtle without it's shell. Three months ago I might of typed this paragraph with shame dripping from my fingers. Luckily, I'm learning that courage and honesty don't require "having it all together." 

A couple of weeks ago I took my senior on a second round of college tours. This time it was two schools in Michigan and one in North Carolina. We begun our visit to Calvin in Grand Rapids with their chapel program. My daughter is an enthusiastic worshipper. She likes big music, dynamic speakers, and lots of energy. So when we checked the schedule and saw that the day's chapel program was going to be Lectio Divina, I was bummed...for her and for me. Lectio is a great spiritual contemplative practice in which you read a small portion of scripture over and over again with pauses in between the readings for reflection and response. Often a few words or a phrase from the chosen verses will rise to the surface and take on a deeper meaning. But we were in the mood to sing and sway, not listen in silence to the Spirit. Borrrring. So I leaned over and knowingly whispered to my daughter, "You're probably not going here, huh?" 

Note: Mothers should not judge a college by one chapel service in the first 15 minutes of a school visit. It's one of her top three schools. Application going out this week. Yep, still learning the simple stuff. 

As I sat there at Calvin - I put on my pastor hat (not literally, I don't really have a hat that I wear when I'm pastoring) and decided to enter into the process of Lectio Divina, even though I really wasn't "in the mood." You know what? Lectio is pretty cool. The rest of this post comes from the message given to me by the Spirit that day. Sometimes the most courageous thing we can do is say, "yes."

The phrase that popped up fresh for me in that time of reading/reflection was "break in.

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. Matthew 6:19-21 RSV

Words often define a person - the negative ones: loser, no good, selfish, unworthy, etc. These definitions speak to us through our shame (sometimes from others, often from ourselves). There are also the words of affirmation we receive - "you are awesome, what a hard-worker, so smart, beautiful, caring." And we tend to let the way we feel, or our state of mind, be determined by those positive and negative definitions swirling around in our brain. In turn those definitions often affect our behavior.

As a words of affirmation person - it's those positive words, the phrases and praises that come my way (usually from others, but sometimes from myself on a very good day) that I treasure. Well, honestly, I "treasure" the negative words too. I hold all of them tight, the good and the bad. I store them up. They become my earthly treasure even more than the items I'm able to buy with $$, which might have been Jesus' original intent for this passage. I understand my house or my possessions don't have eternal value. My minivan doesn't define me. But my thoughts, all of those words, these are mine. Try as I do to hold them tight, these "treasures" of words don't hold up very well. A wrong choice, a negative thought, a thank you note, a careless remark and the treasure, either positive or negative fades. Oh those nasty moths, that wretched rust that eats away at my heart and leaves destruction in it's path. I spend energy trying to lock in these words. To make them stick. I believe I need a clear picture of who I am, of how I should define myself. I let everyone but God do this work for me.

But in verse 6:20 Jesus asks us to store up for ourselves treasures in heaven, a place where no thief can break in and steal. What would this look like? What if I let God break in instead of thieves? What if the words by which I defined myself were only the ones given to me by my Creator? What if I agreed to let the Holy Spirit clear my mind of all but heavenly treasure, forgiveness, peace, joy, love, gratitude... and I chose to let it stay there? A mind filled with and guarded by the Spirit. What if knowing Jesus and how Jesus loves me was my treasure - my definition? For there where my treasure might be, my heart would be also. No longer rusted and moth-ridden, but full, clear in purpose and function. Abounding in love, filled with Truth. 

It Is Good

Life is good. The phrase kept clanging around my head today. At first it seemed like an appropriate little status update. A bit of cheer in the middle of a May downpour. But I'm growing into a wary Facebooker. I've been burned before by sharing a blurb of how I'm feeling. Leadership roles have a way of making you think before you push "post" or the "like" button. Surely not without fault, but my words and clicks now go through a rigorous filtering process: How will this be perceived? Does this represent who I am, what I am truly about, or do I just want attention? Could this post/comment/"like" hurt someone's feelings? Is this sensitive, compassionate, thoughtful of others? Is this the kind of material I'd want to see/read as I scroll through Facebook/Instagram? Have I thought about this too much? Yes...well then, forget it.

So I held back. Kept my simple "Life is good" to myself and continued on with my day. It's a ridiculous statement considering there are people I know and love for whom life is a struggle. A monsoon. Life is scary, defeating, depressing, stressful. There are days, too numerous to count, where I myself have felt life defined by nothing much more than a weight of responsibilities and a space and time to disappoint others. How can life be good in the midst of that kind of pain? Life is good? Ha!

and yet -

I choose to believe: Life is good because it was and is and will forever be created by the Creator. And God IS good all the time.

God's goodness takes the hurt, in ways beautifully mysterious yet sometimes too slow by my timer, and chooses to create beauty. Life is good because all of that yuck isn't just wasted. It can be redeemed by Jesus Christ the Redeemer. Life is good because, when we least expect it, the Holy Spirit surprises us with joy, washes over us with the refreshment of freedom, and brings Light in the middle of a dark night.

May the God of all life, all love, all goodness, bring hope to you no matter the rain.

My First Seven

If I can hold out until midnight - I've done it! Thirty-one days eating only 7 foods. Kind of.

Based on the book Seven by Jen Hatmaker, my 7 foods adventure has been a challenge. They say it takes 30 days to break a habit and it's day 31- but believe me - I'm still craving all the things I let go of for the month. Let me me back up a bit and give a little backstory. Seven was a book given to me last year. I loved it. Really loved it. Seven celebrates the ideas of simplicity, reduction, awareness, intentionality, creating space, and valuing relationships. The author tackled these topics with action steps which she described this way, "7 will be an exercise in simplicity with one goal: to create space for God's kingdom to break through." I love action. Thinking and critiquing are important life skills, but give me action any day! So as soon as I finished the book I did…nothing. A bit paralyzed at where to start on my own 7 adventure, instead I entered the fall, fell into the holidays, and found myself in a pit of yuckiness by the time it was New Years Eve. I had let two really important healthy habits go - work outs and eating right.

Since the Thanksgiving vacation to Oahu hadn't spurned any healthy habits, (One might think a week in paradise sporting little more than a bathing suit with our closest friends would have gotten me off my rear. One would be wrong.) I was holding on to a glimmer of hope that arrival of 2014 would be the real start of a change. Some action. So by the grace of God and the fact that none of my pants wanted to button anymore - I made a decision. Really this is the hardest part for me. Making a choice. Once made and accountability put in place…I can do the thing.

So let me explain "the thing." In the book Seven, Mrs. Hatmaker chose only 7 foods to eat for the month. She was strict and her 7 makes my 7 look like a joke. But action has to start somewhere and I'm not apologizing for what I chose to do on my own 7 adventure. We both came to some similar conclusions - focusing on only eating 7 things for a month makes you think about: what you consume (and what you don't), it has you thanking God and crying out to Him, you end the month hungry. Hungry for more of what God has in store…and possibly wanting a homemade chocolate chip cookie.

Here's what I ate for the month:
Oatmeal (no toppings)
Shakeology - protein/vitamin-rich chocolate powder you mix with milk
Chicken (prepared/marinated anyway except breaded or deep-fried)
Apples
Non-Fat Plain Greek Yogurt
Rice
Veggies (Yes, ANY veggie, so here you see my "7"gets a bit wonky.) I did not eat potatoes - although until this month I would have considered them a veggie.

I did not suffer. It was a healthy, delicious, taste sensational month. I seasoned my chicken, veggies, and rice as desired. It was flavorful and provided enough variety that I wasn't dreading the next meal. With just these simple foods I could usually find food to eat at any restaurant. I still drank coffee. Coffee is a drink not a food. However, I stuck to coffee, tea, milk, and water only. Juices were a no-no.  My diet was almost gluten-free - I'm so much less bloated! Sorry if that's TMI…but seriously, I feel BETTER. Maybe that GF hubbub is right after all. My added sugar intake is waaaay down. I ate a healthy breakfast almost every morning instead of relying on a latte to get me through the day. I ate salads, took carrots and cucumbers to work as snacks, and sautéed up veggies for almost every dinner. Seriously…this is mind-bending stuff.

I had two accountability partners, my friend who gave me Seven and the woman who recommended it to her. Both women work with me - so I saw them weekly and it helped to know that they were cheering me on. Initially I kept the 7 adventure a secret from my family. My choice was just that - MY choice and something I really wanted to be between me and God. Perhaps you have a gentler, less-judgemental family than mine. But for me, one of my goals was to see how long I could go without having to give them the whole scoop. The answer: 15 days. But I made it through a wedding reception with two cakes on day 1, and they didn't notice - so I win. I also win because I did not let the "law" become more important than relationship. On day 25 I took a friend out to dinner for her birthday. The restaurant did not serve chicken or rice. I had a moment of panic and then just confessed the situation to my friend. The veggies were deep fried. The food was delicious. I ate. We laughed, and I valued the experience more than my rules.

This adventure has jumpstarted my body, mind, and spirit. Food is such a central piece of American life. It's been said we live to eat instead of eating to live. I think that somewhere there is a balance. God created taste-buds! But this month has given me greater perspective on how I want to treat food. I've come to appreciate what it feels like to reduce gluten in my diet and eat more veggies. I want to eliminate eating strictly for comfort. God provides. It's an abundance beyond my needs. The 7 adventure has opened my eyes to the ways I usually take this abundance for granted. I end this month with gratitude and ready for the second 7.

Merry Christmas Card

After only 90+ minutes…which was only an hour longer than I wanted to spend - the Christmas card is ordered and on it's way.

When Typhoons Get Personal

A week or so ago we received our latest letter (dated August 29) from Avie, the 16-year-old my daughter Brynn sponsors through Compassion. Here's a snippet of what she said:

"A blessed day! Mama Michelle, thank you for the letter you sent. And thank you also for the stickers you have given I will use to decorate in my notebook. (She loves Hello Kitty - and Brynn bought her an entire book full of stickers which we include page by page with each letter.) I really miss you too and Brynn. Yes! Mama Michelle I will tell to my Grandmother that you continually praying for her. I know that she will love to hear that from you. Thank you that you always pray fro my mother and siblings also for the unity of my family."

Back in 2010 Brynn and I went to the Philippines  - we met Avie and her grandmother. We spent just one full day with this sweet girl. My heart was ripped open by my experiences with Avie and with the 100's of other children we had the chance to interact with during the 10-day trip. These just aren't faceless masses, Twitter updates, or CNN news videos. They are people I love. Today I'm praying they are safe, dry, and have food. I trust God and the work of the local churches and the Compassion projects to bring healing and hope to Avie and her family and the thousands of other children enrolled in Compassion. But oh how I wish I could hug my sweet Avie today.

See God: Reflections on Summer Sunday School

Originally published as my pastoral quarterly report (boy that sounds official) in our church newsletter - this article says a lot about what God's been teaching me this summer. I still have much to learn and put into practice.
- Michelle

Although my area of responsibility includes families and women’s ministries here at NFC, summertime is predominately about kids. Programs such as 3M (Monthly Marriage Maintenance) and Women’s Bible Fellowship take a break and I enjoy a summer focused mainly on the younger members of our congregation. Sometimes this is a great thing—but a few Sundays ago I found myself staring blankly into the eyes of a third grader.

I fancy myself a pretty good Sunday school teacher, but this particular morning my plans were being tested in every way, and I felt sorely lacking in “child-management skills.” As I tried to get the group of 11 kindergarten through 5th graders to pay attention to the Bible lesson, it was clear this was not going to “work” the way I had imagined. The wiggly kids were set on “extra wiggle.” The child who “doesn’t like Sunday school” let it be known to the entire class and me in a loud voice as I instructed them all to turn to 2 Chronicles. He then proceeded to put himself in a trash can, much to the class’s delight. The tired one sprawled out on the carpet, put his Bible over his face and proclaimed “it’s dark in here.” Another ripped some pages in the borrowed Bible while flipping back and forth trying to find the New Testament. The girls and boys chatted and giggled while I plunged deeper into the lesson, determined to get through the curriculum I’d prepared. A volunteer helped by taking two of the most disruptive children in the hall, leaving only 9 kids for me and a second volunteer to reign in.

Somehow I made it through that lesson, and we regrouped outside. The game I created on the spot went surprisingly well. We made a circle and threw the red ball to a friend while saying a characteristic of love. We threw the white ball after naming a quality of God. They paid attention and rattled off some great things about who God is and what love means. The game came to an end; snack was about to be served. I glanced at my watch. If open worship didn’t go too long we might have only about 5-10 minutes left of class. I took a deep breath. I knew there was no way the majority of the class would go back in and do the worksheet…even if it could be cut, folded, and stapled into a little book about God and his totally awesome love.

And then—the question I’ve never been asked by a child: “What is it like to teach Sunday school to kids?” I paused the most pregnant of pauses—and looked into her wondering hope-filled eyes. For a moment I couldn’t think of anything to say. I finally stumbled over something about it being fun, except when it’s difficult. Snack was ending and it was time to get the crew back inside. Her excellent question got lost in the shuffle, but my heart was cracked open by its convicting Holy Spirit power. How could I not think of anything meaningful or loving to say? Me—the children’s pastor who tries endlessly to get others to join this important ministry with children—so lost in my own plans for the morning that I forgot it’s about God, it’s about being there for these kids and listening to them.

Why doesn’t he like Sunday school/church? Why are they so tired? What is so funny? What stories do they have to tell? How might the new toy I set out at the beginning of class be used to capture their attention during the lesson? Why didn’t I just do class outside from the beginning? Why would a child want to know what it’s like to be a Sunday school teacher? What did she need to hear to feel affirmed? What moment did I miss by being so caught up in my “ministry plan”?

If I had that moment again I’d tell her: “Teaching Sunday school is one of the most humbling, joyful, frustrating, entertaining, silly, and important things I am honored to do.” I’d let her know I love her being in class and how she brings me so much joy with her thoughtfulness. I love her questions and I appreciate her kindness. I see the Holy Spirit at work in her life and in the words that come from her mouth. I’d also share with her that I see God in the trash can, rolling around on the floor. I see God in the children desperate to get back to the building toy so they can be creative and successful. I see God in giggles and whispers, in the words of children and in their questions. I see God when I take time to pay attention.

When Forgiveness is a Sacrifice

I was prepping the kids worship folder last week and looked at the scripture passage our pastor was using for the message.
This part really caught me:

...and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. Ephesians 5:2

I started thinking about proclaiming forgiveness or telling God we hope to forgive as an offering or sacrifice to God. I believe sometimes we aren't ready to forgive and forgiveness is often a process. The truth is, in some of my deepest wounds, I haven't wanted to explore what it means to forgive or felt the desire to ask God to help me enter into the forgiveness process. I've simply pushed the issues to the recesses of my mind and carried on. This scripture helps me to see forgiveness not as something we do for the offender, not something we do for ourselves (as is often taught), but as something we do for GOD. 

Wow… as I'm following and honoring God, I offer forgiveness as a sacrifice. 

This is one for me to chew on a bit. I believe God doesn't just want me to say empty words (for that wouldn't be honoring to God or myself) and I believe God doesn't want me to proclaim something that isn't true…so how can I offer forgiveness as a sacrifice even if I don't want to do it? Isn't this a definition of sacrifice? - giving up, doing what we don't want to, laying down when we'd rather hold on, etc. Merriam-Webster defines sacrifice as: an act of offering to a deity something precious. That definition helps me remember the power I have within me to forgive, which comes from the Holy Spirit, is of eternal value. In essence we offer a holy piece of ourselves back to God. 

Today I realize that I need to face the journey of forgiveness for one reason (and I'm sure there will be other benefits along the way) - I want to love as Christ loved. I want to sacrifice my WHOLE self to God, and that means not holding back a piece just because, "I'm not ready." So apparently my sacrifice begins now. Sacrifice is painful, beautiful, exhausting, and ultimately fulfilling when done for God. I can trust that process based on prior experience with the Holy Spirit.

Defining Strength

When God wants you to think about something, He allows multiple opportunities and perspectives to fill your head. I'm beginning to get a headache. It's heavy in there.

 A beautiful day at the Oregon coast. The crosses were a fun discovery!

On our recent our mini-vacation, I woke up, made breakfast, and sat down with a warm mug of coffee. I want a life defined by the health of my closest relationships. My strength lies not in what I can or cannot achieve, but in my dependence on God to order my days and embrace sabbath.

Besides engaging in a few conversations with my family and friends, a walk on the beach, and packing up to head home, I was about as unproductive as this mama can get. Strength? Maybe this is stretching it a bit, but I honestly believe the days set aside to relax, renew, and just enjoy life, build strength. In our culture being successful (strong) often means working hard, being irreplaceable, and multi-tasking. I've bought into those lies more times that I'd like to admit. The truth is - giving time and attention to my family and friends matters. This year I've struggled to create space in my life to be with and actually have friends. 

After the Boston Marathon bombing happened and the terrible explosion in West, Texas, the good ole USA was in shock. Our sense of safety was rocked as the unspoken vow we have with one another was literally blow apart...again. For all the fear that we have in this country, we're also a nation that tries to trust one another. We value life. When the bombs go off or the factory erupts, where's the strength? As Di Murphy pointed out to us as Women's Bible Fellowship, strength was found in the actions of the first responders on the scene - running toward the explosion. We continue to build those muscles when we help our neighbor. Our cites are full of people who feel vulnerable, afraid, and angry. Prayer matters. We are strong when we decide to accept our brokenness but won't be overcome by evil. We are strong when we love. We are strong when we choose Trust again.

During the week I met individually with four women who epitomize what it means to be physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually strong... even if they don't always see it this way. These women face a vast array of daily challenges. They are living proof of how reliance on God turns ashes into beauty.

Friday morning, April 19, I sat glued to the TV. SWAT teams, police cars, and a frenzy of media activity displayed another kind of strength: money, technology, information, and deadly force. We live in a country where if you want to "call in the big dogs," our dogs are HUGE. By Friday night the manhunt was over, thanks to the work of hundreds of people in dozens of law enforcement agencies and the general public working together. This kind of strength makes some of us cheer and some of us cry. I feel stuck in the middle, grateful that we have the power to capture "bad guys" and sometimes conflicted by the priorities and processes in which we do so.

 "God's Great Dance Floor!"

At the end of the week our family joined thousands of Believers at the Chris Tomlin concert. The Rose Garden Arena transformed into a sanctuary and we worshiped together for three hours. I stood hands held high and dancing with as much enthusiasm as possible in the twelve inches of space in front of my chair. The strength of the Holy Spirit filled me with gratitude. Tears streamed down my face as I joined the congregation singing about God's faithfulness. Yes, God is so completely and totally faithful! (You can't be "kinda faithful.") The tears continued as I stood behind my two daughters and my loving husband and I was reminded of my own failings. God's conviction and mercy overwhelmed me. My voice became a mere whisper as I stood in the embrace of Christ. Wrapped in love, secure in forgiveness. We celebrated. I lifted my arms above my head, they felt weightless.

It's taken five days to write this post. I'm realizing that no amount of writing and editing will capture completely what I noticed last week. There's frustration over how long it's taken me to simply say some things that I thought were simple and now feel like a big jumble. But before I give up and push "publish" I'm going to give it one last hurrah and fumble through my definition of strength.

Church inspires me. Sitting in the pew, listening to the sermon, scribbling down my thoughts, asking questions, taking notes, making to do lists. This is how I worship; this is how I work. Last Sunday I came home with this on my worship sheet:

If you can't read the chicken scratch, it says, "Changing what it means to be strong." From this one phrase boxed with a little arrow pointing to "Eternal Life." I came home with a desire to use many of the examples Gregg gave about "power coming through sacrifice and surrender" to redefine strength. The world tells me that being strong means being stoic in the midst of pain, using muscle and power to get my way, and to strive for independence and self-sufficiency. If a woman holds back her tears - she is strong. If a teenager uses his karate skills to cut down a bully, he is strong. If a family doesn't need to borrow or beg from the community they are strong. Perhaps these examples hold a measure of truth, but I believe Jesus turns these definitions upside-down in the Kingdom.

When we come undone, let it all hang-out, ball like a baby, and expose our most tender self to others, to God - we are strong. It takes strength to be vulnerable, open to attack, comparison, or ridicule. It also opens the doors to healing, help, and the power of the Holy Spirit. So I say let the cleansing messy tears flow. Allow pain to be present knowing it is temporary. Eternal life starts now and there is nothing stronger than resurrection power.

If we use physical strength to solve problems, have we really solved them? Reading the Old Testament I'm confronted with issues that are ongoing today. Fights for territory, power, control. People want to be right, to stand up for what they believe in, and to subdue "the other." For thousands of years humans have used muscles and might to dominate. Jesus shows us another way. A stronger way... submission, sacrifice. With Christ we suffer, in Christ we live.


If I don't need you and you don't need me, how do we love? Created to live in community, we deny the core of who we are when we choose separation and independence. Cheesy metaphor alert: If we compare humanity to a machine - that machine runs best when all of it's parts are properly maintained and filled with fuel. God is the master mechanic, and love is the fuel. You know...the power of love. Cue Huey Lewis. In perhaps the greatest mystery of all, love brings life. Jesus conquered the grave through love. To truly love is to serve and be served. I remember seeing this popular license plate in the 90's: He who dies with the most toys wins. How different life is in the Kingdom. If we dare to enter into eternity now, we choose life in community in which what is mine is yours, because it's not really mine in the first place. In the body of Christ we'll let each other know when we need help. We'll share our "toys." We will see love at work in one other and we'll use that power to define strength.

Family Photos

My family!

Long Term Impact

March 21-30, 2013 will forever be remembered in our family as the time we:
1. Left our precious dog Bella for waaaay too long.
2. Went to Mexico on our first ever short-term mission.

I'm anticipating a long term impact from Equipo (meaning "team" in Spanish). Honestly, the trip didn't shatter my world, like my first Compassion sponsor tour to the Philippines in 2010, or overwhelm me with the beauty of life-long relationships created during my visit to Honduras in 2011. But Equipo 2013 has changed me. I've seen the value of families serving together, and I can't stop thinking about how teamwork was reflected in every aspect of the trip. This incredible teamwork was a living example of the body of Christ.

From the year-round planning of the leadership team, the intense preparation work of the advance Equipo group, the skill, sweat, and dedication of the home-building teams, the adaptability of theVBS/Food gang, the faithfulness of the costura (sewing center) crew, the ingenuity of the chicken coop/rabbit hutch makers, and the dedication of the Nueva Esperanza church family, we were witnesses to the power that God creates through community. The work accomplished, the blessings experienced, and the miracles that materialized throughout Equipo were due to over 100 individuals being open to the Spirit. Out of this Love, God allowed us to see, feel, hear, taste, and touch more than we could have imagined.

From tiny trailer to a secure home!

A large group is bound to have many different "take aways" from such a complex mission. I could not begin to describe them all. I'm realizing I can't even do justice to the numbers of my personal experiences. This is what happens when you allow yourself to be placed in God's hands...you live an adventure too rich to adequately record! With tired eyes, weary from nights spent listening to the constant barking of countless dogs, I enjoyed gorgeous sunrises proclaiming God's majesty. With tears in my eyes, I held the hands of a Mexican mother in mine, as we marveled at the miracle of a home being built for her family in just a few short days. God's love and presence was evident in all things. I found joy in cleaning toilets and emptying the trash. Trust me, there is deep abiding peace ridding the church compound of piles of dirty toilet paper as often as possible! I practiced patience, learned my need for more kindness, and was a student of God's abundant goodness as I helped plan, prep, and provide Vacation Bible School for over 50 non-English speaking children. In the midst of poverty, once again hope overflows in the abundance of Christ's love.

Highlighting Page 83

I've used Sarah Parsons' A Clearing Season as the center of my Lent study. As I've soaked in these reflections for Lent, the beginnings of a rainbow has been created. Pink denotes last year's highlights, swaths of blue (a bit dark for a highlight color) mark the phrases I found particularly meaningful this year. It's quite possible that if I use Ms. Parsons book a third time, every line will be bathed in neon ink!

Today I finished up the chapter on consecration and holiness. Highlighter in hand, I surprised myself at how much blue page 83 was getting. This was a page on letting go and trust. This is the hard stuff for me. You know, "Jesus take the wheel" kinda stuff. Oh, page 83... every word so rich in truth. Hopefully with Sarah Parsons' blessing, I'll quote what I highlighted:

"Thy will be done...the most revolutionary words we will ever say."

"The prospect of relinquishing our lives to God's will can be terrifying, as it may have been at first for Jesus on that night of prayer in the garden. But this fear comprises part of a holy moment; it is endured and transcended so that God's will may be done."

"When we let go...we agree to take a secondary role in our life's project, allowing ourselves to be come servants of our growth rather than its masters."

"Abraham's willingness to sacrifice Isaac...this story is not a lesson in how to treat a son; rather it is a lesson in ultimate trust. It teaches us to put God's will before all else, even above our most powerful instincts and deepest loves, even above love like that of an aging father for his son. Abraham's willingness to let go of his greatest earthly joy demonstrated the extent of his submission to God's will."

"We transcend fear by letting go, by saying, 'Thy will be done.' and trusting that God's will is good."

In a Lenten season marked by the desire to deepen my faith, to relinquish control, and to have a deeper understanding of God's power - I'd say page 83 nailed it. I came into Lent with a heavy heart because of the rules, perimeters, and expectations I had placed on what and how my Lent should be. I will probably ALWAYS struggle with control. Wanting control, desiring to be "in the know" is a part of who I am and how God created me. But I'm learning day after day that a part of why God gave me a desire for control was so that I had something to offer Him. There are days when I am weak, worn out, overwhelmed, and feeling pretty inadequate. God says, "Great. just give me the control you're so desperately grasping for....you know, the stuff that is slipping through your fingertips anyway. The stuff that has you in knots, the circumstances you can't even control no matter what you know...give it to Me."

And when I do, I am freed.

Sometimes the freedom is forever when I let go. God gave us a memorable metaphor at Women's Retreat a few weeks ago. I won't ever forget the beauty of watching the sky lanterns take flight. When it was time to release each one, there was a gentle tug, and then the lantern lifted up quickly and effortlessly. As they rose in the night sky with speed and light, we stood there on the sand, looking up in awe, knowing we couldn't of held on to the burning balloons even if we'd wanted to; not without getting burned. Once out of our hands, there wasn't a way to retrieve them. They were gone, because they were doing that they were made to do...to go, go straight to heaven.

Then there are the things I try to and want to control day after day: my relationships, my kid's relationships, volunteers, schedules, my 14-year-old dog's arthritis pain, laundry, the weather (and my grumpy response to another rainy day), ETC. Deep sigh, so much et cetera. And perhaps when I look at God's grace, here's where the Holy Spirit's power is deeply rooted. Every day the Spirit mercifully allows me to say, "Here, take it. It's yours - again."

The story of Abraham and Isaac still scares me. With all my talk about trust, faith, and God's goodness, I still don't want to let go of my greatest earthy joys. Does anyone? I don't care how righteous you are, saying, "sure God take my kid" is an absolutely horrific thought. I've said countless times that I can't even imagine being willing to lose my 10-month-old puppy Bella. This is simply a sacrifice I don't know how I could choose to endure, let alone an actual human - I gave birth to it, raised it, and loved it child.

What I have come to recognize, what this clearing season has done in me, is to accept that my peace, my joy, doesn't always come from becoming a person who dislikes control. But rather, each day I wake up with more certainty that God is good, and I'm willing to place my offerings in the hands of my Lord.

So here I stand (or sit in bed) with two offerings before God: my control and my fear. Yes, yes, I'll give Him my love, devotion, acts of service too - the pretty stuff. But for tonight I want to remember that it's the ugly stuff (big and small) that God is also pleased with as an offering. Thy will be done.

Trusting Truth

In life we often say that something is untrue when it doesn't make sense. A child tells a story and we look at them with a sideways grin and say, "Well honey, that doesn't make any sense. Please tell Mommy the truth."

In our world when something is honest, right, shows integrity, or is trustworthy - the story, facts, details, and ideas usually fit together in a moral, scientific, or reasonable way. This is the kind of truth we can understand. For example: If the cookie jar is empty, it makes sense that little Bobby stole the last of the goodies when his parents weren't looking. It makes less sense (or seems untrue) to say that the dog jumped up on the counter, learned how to take the lid off the jar, devoured the last cookie, put the lid back on, and jumped back down without anyone seeing it. The doggie excuse seems even more unlikely when Bobby has had a history of snitching from the cookie jar.

As I ponder the idea of truth-telling, I'm re-reading the entire Bible this year. Last year I read it from the NIV Chronological Bible, this year I'm reading straight through Eugene Peterson's "The Message." My hope was that by reading a modern paraphrase of Scripture, it would make more sense. Fascinating stuff the Bible. And also quite unbelievable. I've come to the conclusion that no matter the translation, the Bible doesn't make much sense. God asks people to do ridiculous things. God's people act in grotesque ways (even when witnessing and experiencing God's miracles for themselves). Miracles, yep, those are pretty unbelievable too. I often find myself wondering why I chose Christianity as my religion. So much of the Bible and it's stories seem silly. As a follower you have to decide what is real and what is metaphorical, what is supposed to apply to ancient culture and what is relevant for today. You have to know history and context. It helps if you know Greek and Hebrew. You can go a bazillion different ways when deciding on "correct theology." To read the Bible is to find yourself tromping around Jericho for seven day blowing a horn, screaming at the top of your lungs, and watching a city wall crumble before your eyes. ( I just finished Joshua last night.) It means you believe God loves all people, but that at times He asks a chosen few to wipe out entire nations. Believing the Bible is hard, messy, frustrating work. Belief sometimes comes at a cost. The cost of understanding. There are many things about God I simply don't understand. I vacillate between wanting this Book to make sense and feeling at peace that God's story is so complex.

So silly as I am, I'm a Christian. I try to follow Christ. I choose to believe that Jesus was the son of God. I choose to believe that God does love and value all people. I choose to trust that God tells the truth even when the truth is incomprehensible.

Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. 
Psalm 25:5

Untitled Post

Apparently Blogger doesn't let me use a strikethrough in my title. So the real title of my post is:

What I Have Want To Do

Relaxing and energizing well describe my Lenten season so far. I almost find that hard to believe when looking back at what I wrote for my first "individual exercise" from the book study A Clearing Season.

Here's my "wilderness" from week 1:
I come into every situation in my life with an agenda. I don’t just show up and wonder, “what will happen.” I have an idea, a plan, a purpose for the event, the meeting, the day, the relationship, the study. Uggggh. It’s those expectations that lead me to discouragement and frustration. Others don’t “play my game,” their responses don’t match what I have already figured out should happen. I feel trapped by my expectations and then doubly trapped when others/circumstances don’t fit my mold. I feel like in the past few years I’ve actually gotten better at releasing control in some ways (or at least realized to a greater degree my lack of it in some situations). I truly believe responsibility is overrated because it is so draining. I wouldn’t blame God for wanting to be “hands off” for a while…it must be exhausting work trying to coordinate a universe. Perhaps His power lays in the fact that He never stops. Never stops. Even on the Sabbath God heals, God redeems, God loves, and God is present and active. His rest looks very different than ours.

How do I step into Lent without an agenda? How do I not decide weeks ahead of time what this season is going to be about? I feel out of control, overwhelmed, and/or blocked by my desire to control and to see the finish line before the race has even begun to be run. This is my chaos. Even typing that feels scary. I don’t want to come into anything unprepared. And yet, even when I plan, I organize, I present.... I forget, I mess up, I mumble, I don’t do what I’ve prepared to do. It doesn’t look/feel like what I’ve dreamed or hoped. I stand back and like Beth Moore, say, “What was that?” It aches because I want to be good. I want to serve well, to make a difference in my life and in the lives of others. Uggh, the ugly “I” again.

I wonder if the desire to do well is the desire of the Holy Spirit to work through me, to use the gifts I have, or if it’s about pride. Am I fooling myself? Am I just grasping for attention and praise. Am I a praise junky? Do I still feel, in the core of my being, so lousy about who I am that my attempt at work, relationships, events, is really just about trying to create a “better” me not a window to God? Can it be both? Do I have to deem my self selfish or sacrificial? Can I be both? God, how do I work more out of a desire to sacrifice, submit, and serve out of love for You, not trying to gain love for myself?  Do I need to see myself more as a sinner or as a beloved child of God? Which view releases this desire to predict and protect outcomes?

I say I don’t want to “do” Lent, but in my mind, I’ve already done it…and it’s just started. I don’t want to flog myself for this…I know guilt is a lousy long-term motivator/solution. But it makes me crazy that I don’t release myself enough/I’m not open enough to let God take me ANYWHERE and do ANYTHING that HE wants to do with me in this wilderness. Talk about needing a clearing season. I need to clear out me to make room for God. I need to admit that truly doing that would mean that I have no idea what’s going to happen or be the focus of the next 6 weeks. 

So now fast-forward and it's week 4 of the study. What emerged out of that initial frustration was a desire to run and to blog as my Lenten practices. After confessing my need for control (even in the processes that are supposed to be God-led) I felt a tremendous freedom. God answered my request to release this season to Him, and so far it's been incredibly rejuvenating to sit down and blog when God's put something on my heart to write about - aka: not daily because I have to, it's Lent for goodness sake.  I've been on some runs, but then ya know, I fell. So running was out for a week. I tried running again and it was painful. I've been a bit irritated by the set backs I'm experiencing in training for the 1/2 marathon this summer, but overall I've had a sense of contentment (even laughter) at how out of control I've had to be with my running regimen. Again, God is showing me his redeeming love. I don't believe He wanted me to hurt my rib, strain my chest muscles, and scrape up my hand and knees - but I do choose to believe that God has taken that situation and used it to teach me that I can't predict and protect outcomes. I really truly cannot "do" Lent. God does. Hallelujah! 

God's helped me to shift my focus, release control, give me awesome options for Lent, and has faithfully shown his command. Feeling very grateful for the space to write about God's goodness this clearing season. 

God With Us

Sometimes my awareness of God's presence is minimal. The sun rises and sets with too few hours in the day to accomplish my tasks. With a focus on my week's to do list instead of eternity, it is easy to scurry about, narrow my vision, and forget to hear Holiness. My daughters call each other "weird," trees sway in the breeze, time to feed the dogs, my husband folds a load of laundry, Jolee takes out the trash, stars twinkle, and I make yet another trip to the grocery store. Life, regular plain old life.

Yet all it takes for me to see the extraordinary, the supernatural in the everyday, is the realization that God was present in every moment. He didn't just show up for pastoral team meeting, Women's Bible Study, or during bedtime prayers. Nope, God was there when I hollered at the kids to set the table, when I made it home just seconds before the school bus (and on the days I didn't), and when I lay wide awake wondering how long it will be until sleep overcomes me as I listen to Alan's snoring. I love and serve Immanuel - the God who never sleeps or slumbers, who is just as present with my kids on the school bus as He is in the sanctuary.

This is the powerful and mighty God who tenderly reminds me I am loved even though sometimes I act like an idiot with those I love the most. This is the God who transforms my spirit from judgmental to compassionate. This is the God who finds ways to call out to me in the midst of my regular plain old life and says, "I AM here, I hear you."

God delights in delighting us. In Christ we don't live a life of random moments, interactions, and duties. Our experience is knit together by a Divine Trio that is able, in inexplicable ways, to create order out of chaos. Although I am unable to fully understand The Mystery, I choose to believe. The evidence of a loving, all-knowing God is clear to me when I stop, look, and listen. I think God even reads my blog! As I sat in worship service last Sunday night at Community, the phrases, words, and even scripture portions I've been writing about kept popping up. Honestly, it was so cool, it kinda freaked me out. I was stunned at how specifically God chose to affirm my heart. 

Tomorrow will be another tiny piece of eternity. We can choose the degree to which we will turn our attention to God. God has already chosen to attend to us.

O Lord God Almighty, who is like you? You are mighty, O Lord, and your faithfulness surrounds you. Psalm 89:8 

The Fall

It's been a bumpy week. Tuesday night Alan and I went for a run. Less than a half mile in we were traversing some nasty broken sidewalks and I was jammin' to Summer Nights by Rascal Flatts. Feeling oh so energetic and a wee bit overconfident, I was clapping my heads over my head as we breezed along. And then I bit it big time. Bam, just like that I was on the ground. Thank goodness it was dark and the only person who witnessed my crumple was my beloved. We paused for a moment, he helped me to my feet, and asked if I could still run. Thankfully the answer was yes and we finished our 3 miler. The cold air soon numbed my scraped hands and knees. I was grateful that the fall hadn't injured me in any significant way. I took it as a sign of God's faithfulness to my process of training for a half marathon this summer. I felt tough knowing the crash and the "road rash" couldn't keep me down. I huffed and puffed triumphantly. I pretended I was a "real athlete"...you know the kind who get hurt all the time, shrug it off, and keep playing. Yep. Key word, pretended.

Then we got home. It was warm inside and my once frozen hands started to thaw. The abrasions began to sting unmercifully. The tough girl started to melt. I don't "do" physical pain. The shower was a stinging nightmare and for the next two days I couldn't keep bandaids in place more than a hour or two on the oozing sores all over the back of my swollen right hand. My knees were ok but sore when I knelt down. I started to notice a funny pain in my upper right chest, just below my clavicle. By Thursday it hurt a bit more when I bent over or breathed deeply but it wasn't anything bad enough to keep Alan and I from going on a four mile run that night.

Again I felt triumphant, no silly fall earlier in the week was going to keep me from my training schedule. After the run I felt the pain in my chest intensify. Getting into the shower that night I could see a raised bump in the part of my chest that felt bruised and sore. Breathing became more difficult. I wondered if I'd popped a rib out of place. I did a Google search. This seemed to be what I was experiencing:
Subluxation of the rib means that one or more of the ribs have been slightly displaced, which causes pain. The pain may come from your back around to the front and can get worse when you are breathing deeply. If you lean over, the pain will get worse. Usually this condition will resolve itself in a week or two.

Alan suggested some ibuprofen, but I went to bed too proud and too strong to give in to meds. Friday morning I woke up with pain so severe I was not just frustrated, I was scared. I could hardly move. Breathing, even normally hurt like H. E. double hockey sticks. Calling Alan, who was already on his way to work, I got weepy and asked what I should do. We decided it would be best for me to go into the ER. Fearing a punctured lung or fractured rib I drove my shaken self to the hospital. Two chest x-rays later the doc came in and said, "It's nothing." Because when you can hardly breath and it feels like someone just punched you in the chest with every move you make, you like it when the doctor tells you It's NOTHING. Ugghhh. I did appreciate hearing the morning prayer over the hospital loudspeaker. It kinda made up for the loneliness and fragility I felt while laying on the gurney. Basically the nurse instructed me to take 800mg of ibuprofen every four hours for a few days, don't run for a week, and get out. 

Friday morning, the hand healing, but now feeling like I can't breath...

Well, I have to admit the ibuprofen has helped, but this wasn't the week I had planned. Is it ever? I know that "the fall" will someday be a distant memory and in the bigger picture, this week's events are really very minor. This week people I know are dealing with the loss of loved ones, are afraid that their child may have cancer, and others worry about how they will pay for food, clothing, housing, etc. I sat in the ER very aware that I had a simple choice to make - go in to the hospital for peace of mind or don't. I didn't worry about health insurance or where to go for help. I can't pretend that my normal is really normal at all. The world tells me differently every single day. I have to appreciate my choices even when it hurts to know that others don't have them. 

The other "take away" from this week for me is the reminder that our pain, no matter the size, shape, or reason behind it, is ours. If we want to live translucent lives (thanks Beth Woolsey) then we have to be real about our pain. I could of put on a brave face, walked out of the ER and said nothing but "fine" to the people who asked how my day was going. But the truth is, I wasn't fine. I was angry, sad, and uncomfortable. I joked through a text with a friend that what I wanted to do was, "just go curl up in a ball and cry...but that would have hurt too bad." It's ok to be real about the stuff we are struggling with even if it doesn't seem to come close to the level of suffering others are experiencing. I pray that my vulnerability helps others have permission to share their pain... or at least join my pity party for a bit. I believe with all my heart that what God appreciates most is honesty. If we have to fall sometimes to get real, so be it. 

Are We Ready for a Powerful God?

Last week I posted about God leading me to the word believe as my theme for 2013. I'm a connect-the-dots kinda gal, and it's a hoot to see how the Spirit is leading me to examine how American Christians, including myself, believe as followers of Christ.

I see the largest disconnect in what we proclaim and what we practice. There seems to be a gap between what we claim as truth in scripture and how we live our ordinary lives. Our expectations or understanding of God's power within us appears sadly lacking when we profess to worship the God of all creation. It's not that we don't see or believe in miracles happening in the present, but it does seem fair to say that in our everyday American culture, an instantaneous cure from cancer, paralysis, blindness, or deafness are not a part of our "normal" experience. We want to believe God can release us from the bondage of addictions, an evil spirit, or chronic pain, and yet this still seems a mighty big pill to swallow. Start talking about experiencing being raised from the dead, and for a lot of us, those stories have us feeling like we've entered a fairy tale more than the kingdom of heaven. It's just plain weird. Miraculous healing can make us wonder if we stepped over some imaginary line to the edge of fantasy and witchcraft versus the Holy mysterious supernatural power of an omnipotent God. Let me take this a step further and ask: Do you and I believe we have the power within us to cure, heal, and raise others from the dead? Are we willing to speak and act on that power with confidence? Do we rush over to a friend's house, a stranger on a street corner, or an aquaintence in the grocery store and offer a healing prayer or touch? If no, is it because we don't want to look silly, are we embarrassed, unsure, insecure, inhibited, afraid, etc? Do we believe we possess the power? Are we leaving this kind of work up to others? Are we more aware of how often God doesn't heal than than the times that He does? In order to not confuse, disappoint, or discourage, do we hold on to The Power and keep it to ourselves just in case healing is not God's will? Are we ready for a powerful God?

We live in a culture of doctors, nurses, counselors, hospitals, insurance companies, antibiotics, radiation, and medicare. We live where miracles take place through small groups and therapy sessions. We experience healing in the ER, ICU, outpatient clinics, and on sick leave from work. I believe these are some of the ways God works today and I'm grateful. I don't mean to limit miracles to the medical world. In my life, most miracles have been a process. They've taken place through prayer, patience, and practice. This doesn't cheapen the miracle. I've seen my marriage raised from the dead...and that my friends, saved at least four lives. I pray that I don't doubt God when it comes to physical healing or dramatic displays of power, but the truth is, I do. At least I doubt God's followers. Skeptically, I watch documentaries of those who proclaim to have seen a woman regain her sight. My hardened heart finds it almost impossible to believe that a lifelong paralytic could stand up and walk just because a Christian laid on hands and yells, "In the name of Jesus...." This is the stuff of the Gospels, Acts, and Paul. Is it really for today? Is it really for me and you?

God's been doing miracles since the beginning of time, and our Bible records only a portion of the Lord's work. From cover to cover God's power is on display. Most comforting, or perhaps most disheartening, is that that even people who were eyewitnesses to some of God's most incredible miracles in ancient days forgot time and time again what a faithful and powerful God we claim to believe. Over and over God's people have doubted, questioned, and disobeyed. We say we trust a mountain-moving, water-parting, demon-slaying, dead-man rising God, yet when we suffer we often suffer most from a lack of hope.

John 14:10-14 has me riled up so bear with me...
Don't you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you are not just my own. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work. Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the miracles themselves. I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.

Did Jesus just tell the disciples...Did Jesus just tell you and me that when we believe in Him, we are able to do what he does, that we're able to do even greater miracles than he did when he walked the earth? Whhhhaaaat?  Why don't we spend some time sitting in a spiritual jacuzzi on that one? That is crazy amazing stuff. John chapter 14 goes on to tell us about Jesus promising us the Holy Spirit. John 14:17 says, "The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. but you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you." To this I shout, "I WANT TO KNOW HIM!" I want to be so steeped in the Holy Spirit that I throw off the hinderances of this world. I don't want miracles to be strange stories that give me shrivers or make me sneer, "Really?" I want miracles to become normal. Writing those words sounds greedy. As a follower of Christ, it seems to me that Jesus is telling me I should expect and experience God's power to fill me and flow through me everyday. Everyday. Are we ready for a powerful God?

Before you worry I'm power-trippin', let me share more "dots" God is connecting. There are few scriptures that come closer to the core of how I experience, or want to experience, Christianity than Matthew 18:1-5, Luke 4:14-21, and Mark 12:29-31.

Matthew 18:1-5 describes Jesus reminding his followers that a humble child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Pride and power don't make you great. A willing, trusting, heart brings you closest to Christ. A life of service and generosity ushers in the Kingdom.

Luke 4:14-21 defines the Good News. In this passage, Jesus, fresh from a 40 day fast in the wilderness being tempted by the devil and being cared for by angels, comes into the synagogue in Nazareth and reads a bit from Isaiah. Speaking the words of the prophet, Christ defines his ministry and purpose. Jesus states that he's been anointed by the Holy Spirit, is ready to proclaim freedom for prisoners, recovery of sight for the blind, and has the authority to release the oppressed.

Mark 12:29-31is just one of the places in the Bible where we learn what matters most to God. We must love God with all of who we are and we're commanded/expected/compelled to love others as we love ourselves. It is Christianity 101.

In service last Sunday I wanted to stand in Open Worship...my heart was not clear to move forward. But here I am in what has become my place to "stand" and share and process what the Holy Spirit is placing on my heart. This blog allows me the time and space to make what I hope are coherent statements about my faith. All that to say, that these "dots," these little pieces of how God is working in my life, felt tangibly close Sunday morning.

Last Saturday night, after watching the documentary Finger of God about seeing and experiencing God's power, miracles, and healing in today's world, I began to look over the lesson for the 4th/5th grade girls Sunday school class I was to teach in the morning. The curriculum instructed me to share the story of Jesus calming the wind and waves on the Sea of Galilee. What an awesome story about Jesus' incredible and almost unbelievable power! Are we ready for a powerful God? The disciples in the boat didn't seem to be as they asked, "who is this?" Sunday morning the girls and I read the story and talked about miracles. They were well versed in reciting Bible stories, but when I asked them if they'd ever seen or experienced any recently, there was quite a pause. Then one child remembered her mom talking about being able to speak publicly (something she wasn't comfortable doing) after a friend prayed for her. Another child had heard the story of a boy who needed to do well on a test, but hadn't studied or had severe test anxiety. The boy went to bed and dreamed that he held the teacher's answer key. The next day he took the test and remembering his dream, he was able to take the test while "looking" at the answer key in his mind.

The class agreed, miracles happen, and perhaps they happen more often than we realize. We also agreed that we weren't so sure about performing miracles ourselves. Here was a room of kids raised in the church, who would all claim to be followers of Christ, who know Bible story after Bible story, and yet they hadn't really heard the message of John 14:10-14 before. I read it to them three times. We marveled at how, as believers, we are called to do what Jesus did (and more). Jesus says, "follow me." If we follow Jesus, we too will perform miracles and be able to watch the Holy Spirit at work in and through us. I shared with the Sunday school girls about Finger of God and how captivating it was for me to see little African children living in severe poverty with such strong faith. The film described the children as instrumental in praying for miracles. The most humble of children helping blind adults to see.

Then it was time for service, the verses from Luke 4:16-21 were the basis for Gregg's excellent sermon. Once again I felt blessed to sit amongst a congregation who loves Jesus and justice and sees them as interconnected. Believing we serve a God who transforms individuals and the whole world energizes my spirit and fills me with hope. This transforming love is described in Mark 12:29-31. Loving God is of utmost importance and usually a major "duh!" for believers. The trickier part is loving your neighbor as yourself. How do we do this? Sunday morning I wondered if it had something to do with believing God. Are we ready for a powerful God? Do we accept and want to follow a Messiah that asks us to want healing for others as much as we want it for ourselves? Are we ready to take God out of an ancient text and make Immanuel real and relevant today? Are we ready to believe, to show love, by entering into God's power and allowing the Holy Spirit to flow through us as we humbly trust the Creator of the universe with the faith of a child?

God-Given Spirit

Last year's "word" was grace. Ahhh, grace. Everything about grace seems delightful, smooth, and lovely. Along with it being my daughter's middle name, grace has a very hope-filled tone. To my surprise, focusing on grace taught me about pride and forgiveness, and ended up being more difficult than I ever expected. That's alright, I like being surprised and dare I say, tested by God.

At the end of 2012 I waited and prayed for a new "word of the year" to emerge, some fresh vibrant theme, a grace-filled challenge, a virtue. I wanted an exciting word to center on and shape my thoughts and prayers for 2013. Nothing came to mind and I began to sense that perhaps this whole "word of the year" business was really more about my desire to have a focus than it being God's idea. No word God...ok. Then I saw it. BELIEVE. I have the word believe posted on my mantel and along the staircase. Umm, that can't be it. I already know that one. "Believe" is too obvious, too cliche, too boring. I already believe - don't I?

Day after day the word popped off the page in scripture, resounded in my ears during conversations, and my eyes kept glancing at those silly old signs adorning my home. It became clear that despite my negative reaction to the initial boringness of believe, this was it. I'd have to trust God that working on belief was my task for the year. As I closed out 2012 with the final books of the chronological Bible, this verse from 2 Timothy grabbed my heart.

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self discipline.
2 Timothy 1:7

Could I, would I, choose to BELIEVE these words? Is this truly the type of Spirit that God has give us? Has given me? So many times I feel my actions and reactions are ruled by fear instead of courage, out of weakness and doubt not strength and faith. I live wondering when I'll ever be ready to really do the things I say I want to do...but my willpower fails time and time again. And yet here's this amazing verse that claims the Spirit that God gives us is courageous, strong, loving, and full of all we need to be disciplined and intentional. Oh how I need to believe these truths. I need to soak in God's Holy Spirit. I want to take in and breath in and out this Spirit. This is Life.

As an advocate for children through Compassion  one of my desires is to help others see how child sponsorship can change lives; how knowing Christ brings Life. It's important for me to speak with assurance...with belief. I must proclaim without timidity and in love that sponsorship works as a tool to end poverty. I want to encourage sponsors that when they use the self discipline given to them by the Spirit to sit down and write to their sponsored child, they are engaging in a holy opportunity to place value, hope, and God's love in the spirit of a child.

As a children and family's pastor here in small town in Oregon, I am grateful to serve a community that I know well and who knows me. It's easy to keep my eyes focused right here. There are many needs, so much pain, and unlimited opportunities to share God's love. It's also comfortable and safe. The truth is we serve a global God. I believe as a follower of Christ we are asked to widen our vision to include the entire world. God has used the ministry of Compassion as a way for me to live out love to the ends of the earth. Jesus takes the blinders off and with grace gives me a heart for children and families who live in circumstances beyond my understanding. God comes crashing through my office door, spins my ergonomically correct chair so that I face Him eye to eye, and shows me that beyond my insulated walls are children that need to know they are worthy. The Holy Spirit makes my stomach flop at the words sex-trafficking, famine, malaria, drought, lack of education, sewage, unemployment, and suffering. Those words can be paralyzing. I can hear them and lose hope. It's too much God.

But God says, "No it's not too much for Me. So believe. I've given you a spirit not of timidity, but of power, love, and self discipline. Follow Jesus and together we will serve."

Forty Days

It's Fat Tuesday...Mardi Gras. Time to indulge before the fast, to consume and celebrate before walking into the wilderness and spending 40 days in a season of penitence. Or is it?

Today is Tuesday. A regular day when kids went to school, came home, watched TV, ate ice cream, and practiced cello. It's a regular day. Alan and I got up, went to work, and came home. A regular day. A regular day of fixing dinner, taking the dog out to potty, and folding laundry. A regular day on my tiny piece of the planet.

It's a special day. Tuesday has meaning, life, breath, and joy because the sun came up and the earth kept spinning. God created this day. It's a special day. In the midst of so much misery and doubt in our world it's easy to ask, "Why is it special?" I imagine God answering "Because I said so." Strangely, that's enough for me. Not so much when I was 12 and my mom used that ridiculous line.

Today I was able to join in prayer, to grieve, to laugh, to question. I didn't solve deep theological issues, cure cancer, or abolish poverty. Today I was able to hug my children. Today I made my bed and sent some emails. Today I felt thankful but forgot to say grace. Today I spent way too long on this blog post when I could have been on a run. Today I felt God tugging at my heart and whispering, "Get ready!" Today I am filled with anticipation and I admit, a little trepidation.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of Lent. This season can shut us down or open us up to transformation.  We can let the expectations to "give something up" rule and even ruin our experience with this opportunity. I don't want to "do" Lent.

Beginning tomorrow, and lasting for the next six weeks, I'm accepting the invitation. I'm planning on making space for God in my life in ways that don't always come easy for me. I have grand plans - and there is my first obstacle. Can I get out of the way enough for GOD to do the work and not me? Am I willing to wake up each regular special day inviting God to take control, believing that Christ is good, trusting the Holy Spirit to be enough? Today all I can do is hope.

And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. Romans 5:5

These books will serve as guides for the journey: A Clearing Season by Sarah Parsons and A Place at the Table by Chris Seay.