It was a warm summer night about a year ago. I was house sitting, curled up in a chair reading. The window was cracked open so I could enjoy the evening air. A few chapters in, my mind was torn from the drama on the page by the faint strains of music wafting through breeze. After pausing to get a better listen, I realized I knew the tune. It was a praise and worship song. Curiosity got the better of me and I untangled myself from the pile of puppies that surrounded my feet to look out the window and see what was going on.
It was such an endearing scene. A group of people was gathered in front of the house next door. They had built a fire, and were just sitting around enjoying each other's company. Some people were sitting on the porch, others were gathered by the fire. One guy had a guitar, and he was leading the song. A few others were singing with him, even providing harmony at times.
Despite the song that caught my ear, it became quickly apparent that it wasn't a serious night. The song dwindled to silence and a new one started. One that quickly turned silly. The main singer changed the lyrics (inserting names and jokes and such) and it quickly became a group effort -- equal parts singing and laughter.
I settled back into my chair and let the sounds of their friendship become the soundtrack of my night. It made me think of memories I treasure -- Of a summer when we lost power at church camp and just sat around singing and goofing off. Of impromptu moments in the hallways at Winterfest. Of bonfire singing and smores at Arlington Echo. Of late nights with "Mike and the Ferrantes" in a living room in Columbia.
They had no idea of course, but their fireside music filled me with hope. To know that the cycle continues. That there's a new generation of people that love Jesus, but who obviously love each other too. That know how to have fun and not take things so seriously. That change song lyrics and mix pop songs with praise and worship. That stay up way too late and fill their nights with laughter and conversation.
Faith. Friendship. Fire. ...hope for the future. (Passing the torch?)
Later, I learned that house is some sort of halfway home. I don't know why, but that just makes the hope burn all the brighter.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Not Alone
It was a simple Facebook invite: "The Worship Collective is meeting tomorrow to do a little manual labor! We are starting the build out of the South Street Chapel Project, and I'm looking for some volunteers who are willing to get a little sweaty doing some honest work then get some ice cream at Kilwins."
Manual labor and ice cream? I was immediately in.
A day later, four of us made our way into the basement that will one day be an awesome chapel space. We surveyed the situation (lots of "potential" if you catch my drift), geared up (dust masks have never looked so stylish), and got to work.
There's truth in the old adage "many hands make for light work." By our powers combined, we were able to get the space all cleaned and ready for the crew who would come in later to lay the floor. It only took a little more than an hour, but the room completely transformed. I think we were all surprised at how quickly it all came together.
But the real surprise came later.
I don't remember how the conversation got started. Maybe it just came out of the comfortable silence that happens between people who have just bonded over a shared experience. But while we were perched outside of Kilwins enjoying our ice cream, I remember Rachel opening up and admitting, "I feel like I've been fighting something and I just can't figure out what I'm fighting. I don't know what it is, but I've just been feeling frustrated and angry and I don't know why."
You know what I felt? Relief. It was like she had just looked into all the stuff that was swirling around in my heart and put my emotions into words. But as I was getting ready to tell her that, Casey spoke up and said, "Me too."
I don't know if I can describe it correctly, but suddenly we weren't just fellow workers. In the time it took to eat a few bites of ice cream, we became brothers in arms. Separately, we had all been struggling with the same thing. Fighting a battle but afraid to speak up. Because who wants to admit they're struggling? Especially if they can't find a name or a reason for what they're fighting. Besides, we're all normally fun, quirky, creative people. People who are passionate about lifting the burdens of others, not adding to them with our own.
Oddly enough, the wisdom of Luna Lovegood came to mind.
Ironically, Rachel sharing her burden didn't make mine heavier. In some sort of reverse physics, sharing her burden ended up lifting mine and when I left for home that night, it wasn't just the room that had been been transformed. Sure, my circumstances were still the same. And to be honest, the battle still raged. But suddenly, I didn't feel so alone. My nameless fear had become a common foe.
And somehow that changed everything.
Manual labor and ice cream? I was immediately in.
A day later, four of us made our way into the basement that will one day be an awesome chapel space. We surveyed the situation (lots of "potential" if you catch my drift), geared up (dust masks have never looked so stylish), and got to work.
There's truth in the old adage "many hands make for light work." By our powers combined, we were able to get the space all cleaned and ready for the crew who would come in later to lay the floor. It only took a little more than an hour, but the room completely transformed. I think we were all surprised at how quickly it all came together.
But the real surprise came later.
I don't remember how the conversation got started. Maybe it just came out of the comfortable silence that happens between people who have just bonded over a shared experience. But while we were perched outside of Kilwins enjoying our ice cream, I remember Rachel opening up and admitting, "I feel like I've been fighting something and I just can't figure out what I'm fighting. I don't know what it is, but I've just been feeling frustrated and angry and I don't know why."
You know what I felt? Relief. It was like she had just looked into all the stuff that was swirling around in my heart and put my emotions into words. But as I was getting ready to tell her that, Casey spoke up and said, "Me too."
I don't know if I can describe it correctly, but suddenly we weren't just fellow workers. In the time it took to eat a few bites of ice cream, we became brothers in arms. Separately, we had all been struggling with the same thing. Fighting a battle but afraid to speak up. Because who wants to admit they're struggling? Especially if they can't find a name or a reason for what they're fighting. Besides, we're all normally fun, quirky, creative people. People who are passionate about lifting the burdens of others, not adding to them with our own.
Oddly enough, the wisdom of Luna Lovegood came to mind.
Luna: We believe you, by the way. That He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and you fought him, and the Ministry and the Prophet are conspiring against you and Dumbledore.
Harry: Thanks. Seems you’re about the only ones that do.
Luna: I don’t think that’s true. But I suppose that’s how he wants you to feel.
Harry: What do you mean?
Luna: Well if I were You-Know-Who, I’d want you to feel cut off from everyone else. Because if it’s just you alone you’re not as much of a threat.
(Order of the Phoenix)
Ironically, Rachel sharing her burden didn't make mine heavier. In some sort of reverse physics, sharing her burden ended up lifting mine and when I left for home that night, it wasn't just the room that had been been transformed. Sure, my circumstances were still the same. And to be honest, the battle still raged. But suddenly, I didn't feel so alone. My nameless fear had become a common foe.
And somehow that changed everything.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Reputation
I was getting ready to go out, and quickly throwing my outfit together. (Jeans and a t-shirt. Very fancy.) My eyes landed on the new "Team Tebow" shirt that I had draped over my favorite chair. But I thought, "No, I can't wear that today. It wouldn't represent the name Tim Tebow very well."
What does that say about the power of a name, and of a reputation? I can't remember where it was I was headed. But I do remember stopping and thinking about wearing his shirt. Tebow's an outspoken Christian who takes his testimony very seriously, and because he's a well-known football player, he gets a lot of scrutiny. I actually asked myself: "How might I hurt his message by wearing his shirt in a situation he might avoid?" and opted for a different shirt.
Do I not realize my reputation is on the line too? Why am I any less passionate about protecting it?
Do I think I'm any less a representative of Christ? His name may not be stitched into the fabric of my clothes, but it's inextricably stitched into the fabric of my life.
Conviction from a t-shirt. Thanks Tim.
What does that say about the power of a name, and of a reputation? I can't remember where it was I was headed. But I do remember stopping and thinking about wearing his shirt. Tebow's an outspoken Christian who takes his testimony very seriously, and because he's a well-known football player, he gets a lot of scrutiny. I actually asked myself: "How might I hurt his message by wearing his shirt in a situation he might avoid?" and opted for a different shirt.
Do I not realize my reputation is on the line too? Why am I any less passionate about protecting it?
Do I think I'm any less a representative of Christ? His name may not be stitched into the fabric of my clothes, but it's inextricably stitched into the fabric of my life.
Conviction from a t-shirt. Thanks Tim.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Pep Talk
This has been an interesting few months. I've been thinking a lot about turning 30. Looking forward to it actually. I'm not scared of the number, or of the time that's passed or that's to come. But I've been thinking a lot about what's important to me. I want to travel light, and to only carry forward the things that add to the story I want to be telling with my life. Overanalyzing? Maybe. But this is one case when I'd rather over analyze than to let myself get swept along by the currents of adult life.
Anyway, I started focusing on one habit at a time. Eating. Exercise. Cleaning out the attic. Fixing the house. Returning to regular blogging. And when I'm focusing on that one thing, I do a good job. But keeping the ball rolling can be a challenge. Especially when 1) I tend to have very high expectations of myself and 2) life happens.
You know what? It's awfully hard to get back on a wagon once you've fallen off a time or two. I love the quote that says, “Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow.” I love it. And I believe it. But I'm also realizing that it's hard to actually give myself the space it takes to walk it out.
Take something as simple as eating healthy. Earlier this year, I adopted a very strict diet for a set period of time. It was a challenge, but I did it. And it felt great! ...then the "challenge" was over and my old habits started creeping back in again. (I love you ice cream. But I should love you in smaller doses.) And now, even though I've tried to be strict again, I just keep falling off that wagon.
Sticking to things is difficult. I guess that's what makes it so impressive when people do it.
I think this is what I have to remember. This is my advice to myself: Keep trying again tomorrow. These are long-term habits you're building. On one hand, no one is judging you. It doesn't matter. But on the other hand, people are watching you. It takes a sort of courage to say no to that ice cream. To find time for that run. To tackle that closet. To write that post. It also takes courage to face those every day moments with joy. So keep the ball rolling. It's ok. This is your life. Fall down three times and get up four. Try again tomorrow.
*whew* Thanks for letting me get that out there.
Anyway, I started focusing on one habit at a time. Eating. Exercise. Cleaning out the attic. Fixing the house. Returning to regular blogging. And when I'm focusing on that one thing, I do a good job. But keeping the ball rolling can be a challenge. Especially when 1) I tend to have very high expectations of myself and 2) life happens.
You know what? It's awfully hard to get back on a wagon once you've fallen off a time or two. I love the quote that says, “Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow.” I love it. And I believe it. But I'm also realizing that it's hard to actually give myself the space it takes to walk it out.
Take something as simple as eating healthy. Earlier this year, I adopted a very strict diet for a set period of time. It was a challenge, but I did it. And it felt great! ...then the "challenge" was over and my old habits started creeping back in again. (I love you ice cream. But I should love you in smaller doses.) And now, even though I've tried to be strict again, I just keep falling off that wagon.
Sticking to things is difficult. I guess that's what makes it so impressive when people do it.
I think this is what I have to remember. This is my advice to myself: Keep trying again tomorrow. These are long-term habits you're building. On one hand, no one is judging you. It doesn't matter. But on the other hand, people are watching you. It takes a sort of courage to say no to that ice cream. To find time for that run. To tackle that closet. To write that post. It also takes courage to face those every day moments with joy. So keep the ball rolling. It's ok. This is your life. Fall down three times and get up four. Try again tomorrow.
*whew* Thanks for letting me get that out there.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Receiving
Giving. That's the side of the equation that is most familiar to me. I was raised by two truly generous people who didn't just teach me to give of my time, of my resources, and of myself...they modeled it for me every day. They still do.
Like most givers, it can be very difficult to recieve. I'll admit part of it is a pride thing. I know I live a blessed life, and I want to be able to do things on my own.
So when God laid on my heart to send out a letter about the mission trip I'm going on with my mother, I really struggled about it. I really struggled. But the idea or impulse or whatever you want to call it just wouldn't let me go. I finally convinced myself that besides just beingbegrudgingly obedient, I wasn't doing this for me...I was doing this to help my mom. It's not about me. It's about her.
See, I'm not receiving. I'm giving. *insert cheesy grin here*
I wrote what was in my heart, sent it out, andkinda placed it in God's hands. I was only hoping for enough to cover my mom's expenses. But her faith, and God's plans, were much bigger.
The money for the trip is due July 1st, but already we have more than enough to pay for the both of us. The both of us! And more money is on the way! Through the generosity of our sponsors, we will not only be able to go, but we will be able to bless others -- to sponsor ministers to attend the training that will be offered during the day and to give a gift to each of the orphanages we visit as well.
What God is teaching me:
The power of many, small donations. I needed to see this because even though I'm a giver, I often feel guilty about only being able to give a little bit. But seeing the power of all the little bits is showing me that support is not really about me and what I can give. It's about being obedient and a good steward of whatever my resources are. By a whole bunch of little bits combined, stuff happens. And the result is somehow so much more than sum of all the little parts. "Every little bit helps." -- I thought that was just something people said to make be feel better, but it's not. It's a powerful truth and I'm seeing it in action.
The value of prayer support. There are people who can't give financially, but who are partnering with us spiritually through prayer. And it's something that I know in my head -- prayer means so much -- but now that I am on the receiving end of it, I can honestly say that prayer means so much. It doesn't matter to me that there isn't money attached. Knowing that people I care about are standing with me, believing with me, and investing in what God is doing...it's hard to put that into words. But it's a great lesson.
I don't think I would have learned it had I not been on the receiving end.
Like most givers, it can be very difficult to recieve. I'll admit part of it is a pride thing. I know I live a blessed life, and I want to be able to do things on my own.
So when God laid on my heart to send out a letter about the mission trip I'm going on with my mother, I really struggled about it. I really struggled. But the idea or impulse or whatever you want to call it just wouldn't let me go. I finally convinced myself that besides just being
See, I'm not receiving. I'm giving. *insert cheesy grin here*
I wrote what was in my heart, sent it out, and
The money for the trip is due July 1st, but already we have more than enough to pay for the both of us. The both of us! And more money is on the way! Through the generosity of our sponsors, we will not only be able to go, but we will be able to bless others -- to sponsor ministers to attend the training that will be offered during the day and to give a gift to each of the orphanages we visit as well.
What God is teaching me:
The power of many, small donations. I needed to see this because even though I'm a giver, I often feel guilty about only being able to give a little bit. But seeing the power of all the little bits is showing me that support is not really about me and what I can give. It's about being obedient and a good steward of whatever my resources are. By a whole bunch of little bits combined, stuff happens. And the result is somehow so much more than sum of all the little parts. "Every little bit helps." -- I thought that was just something people said to make be feel better, but it's not. It's a powerful truth and I'm seeing it in action.
The value of prayer support. There are people who can't give financially, but who are partnering with us spiritually through prayer. And it's something that I know in my head -- prayer means so much -- but now that I am on the receiving end of it, I can honestly say that prayer means so much. It doesn't matter to me that there isn't money attached. Knowing that people I care about are standing with me, believing with me, and investing in what God is doing...it's hard to put that into words. But it's a great lesson.
Iniquity
I have been learning how to look at the Bible with a Hebrew mindset. It's been challenging my theology and deepening my faith.
For example, was enlightening to learn how the Hebrew language is written. Instead of letters representing sounds like they do in English, each letter is symbol and the meaning of any Hebrew word takes the combination of each letter to make a meaning. As one translator puts it “each Hebrew letter is a picture so each word is like a comic strip.”
"We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all." Isaiah 53:6
In my Western mind, I usually group iniquity in with sin. The two are pretty much Biblical synonymns to me. But the combination of Hebrew letters used to form the word “ iniquity” translate to the picture “that which your eye hooks onto, multiplies.”
It's a principle that can be good or bad. For example, back before the bite of fruit Eve saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye. Her eye was hooked and it all went downhill after that. The writer of Hebrews encourages us to "run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith." Whatever our eye hooks onto multiplies. Iniquity is a picture of the battle that rages in our mind.
...and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
This is what clicked for me: Jesus just didn't take on our fully realized sins, he took on everything back to the moment our eyes got hooked onto the wrong thing. It makes so much sense doesn't it? If "you've heard it said...but I say..." took the meaning of the law deeper, wouldn't it be just like Jesus to take his sacrifice and provision just as deep?
This is going to sound silly, but when I realized that, I felt like I had just found a $20 bill in the pocket of my favorite coat. I knew it would keep me warm, that extra gift just takes it to a whole new happy place. Like I'd been struggling with how to pay a bill, when all along it's already been taken care of.
How great is this love that has been lavished on us.
For example, was enlightening to learn how the Hebrew language is written. Instead of letters representing sounds like they do in English, each letter is symbol and the meaning of any Hebrew word takes the combination of each letter to make a meaning. As one translator puts it “each Hebrew letter is a picture so each word is like a comic strip.”
"We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all." Isaiah 53:6
In my Western mind, I usually group iniquity in with sin. The two are pretty much Biblical synonymns to me. But the combination of Hebrew letters used to form the word “ iniquity” translate to the picture “that which your eye hooks onto, multiplies.”
It's a principle that can be good or bad. For example, back before the bite of fruit Eve saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye. Her eye was hooked and it all went downhill after that. The writer of Hebrews encourages us to "run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith." Whatever our eye hooks onto multiplies. Iniquity is a picture of the battle that rages in our mind.
...and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
This is what clicked for me: Jesus just didn't take on our fully realized sins, he took on everything back to the moment our eyes got hooked onto the wrong thing. It makes so much sense doesn't it? If "you've heard it said...but I say..." took the meaning of the law deeper, wouldn't it be just like Jesus to take his sacrifice and provision just as deep?
This is going to sound silly, but when I realized that, I felt like I had just found a $20 bill in the pocket of my favorite coat. I knew it would keep me warm, that extra gift just takes it to a whole new happy place. Like I'd been struggling with how to pay a bill, when all along it's already been taken care of.
How great is this love that has been lavished on us.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Orgreenic
Not too long ago, someone gave me an "Orgreenic" pan. My benevolent patron raved about its non-stick surface that requires little to no butter or oil while cooking. And while I would love to say my first Orgreenic cooking venture was was a tremendous success...My new pan did not live up to my expectations.
I had envisioned two over-easy eggs sliding merrily onto my favorite breakfast plate. Instead, I found myself salvaging what mangled eggs I could and scrubbing the rest off my "non-stick" pan. In short: It was an epic fail.
Maybe I used the wrong oil. Maybe I didn't let it smoke to the proper level. But whatever happened, my pan didn't make it to non-stick status.
I was really disappointed. The pan is totally usable, but it wasn't very "Orgreenic." And that's what I was so excited about. That special quality that made it different from other, ordinary pans.
And as I was scrubbing off that first pathetic attempt at an egg, I realized something: I have something in common with my new pan.
I've been messing up. Missing the mark in a few areas that I didn't struggle with in the past. Where once I confidently produced eggs perfectly over easy, I've been scraping away nothing more than a scrambled, mangled mess. Somehow I lost my non-sticky-ness. (In one area in particular, it scared me to admit just how bad things had become.) Not Orgreenic at all.
Conviction chooses the strangest time to surface, doesn't it?
So now what?
I wrote the first part of this post a few weeks ago. After drafting the story of the messed up eggs, I took a closer look at the directions and discovered even if seasoning is successful, it doesn't last forever. "To maintain the exceptional performance of Orgreenic, we recommend you repeat the seasoning process at least twice a year." So I tried it again. I went out and bought some new vegetable oil. Then heated my pan over medium heat until it started to smoke. (Which, by the way, takes a fair amount of time. It definitely requires patience.) When the smoke finally arrived, I took the pan off the burner, let it cool, cleaned it off, and returned it to the cabinet until I was brave enough to try to cook some new eggs.
I'm very happy to report that they were beautiful. Perfectly over-easy and wonderfully delicious.
I think there's hope for me too.
Oh, the argument in my head raged for a while! The guilt side of my brain shouted: "Once salt has lost it's saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It's good for nothing except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot." But the grace side of my brain answered: "He that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out." "We recommend you repeat the seasoning process at least twice a year."
Over and over, I've seen "where sin abounded, grace abounded much more." God's not in the throwing-out business, and I know he's patient enough to season me and bring out my Orgreenic quality again. Restoration is somewhat of a specialty of his.
Oh yes, I'm certain there's hope for me too.
Bring on the eggs.
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"Don't assume you're good soil." ~ Francis Chan, Crazy Love
"Until you're broken for your sins you can't be social." ~ Jimmy Needham, Clear The Stage
"You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows." ~ Psalm 23:5
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