Sunday, October 30, 2016

High Above it All - Remembering God in the face of storms, elections, wars, and more


 “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33

Ahh…a nice warm cup of tea, my favorite corner on the couch, our old Jack-Russell waiting to curl up beside my husband or me, the morning news….  That’s our routine before we each must face the work day.   I love that part of the morning, something about it seems to suggest that though the day ahead might be looming, these still moments offer a kind respite before it all begins.  However, the respite is slowly being crowded out as the news continues to bring stories of such deep un-rest residing close to home and throughout our world.  I've learned to keep the T.V. off while soaking in the deeper truths of scripture instead! Yet in spite of, or perhaps because of, spending time with God in His written word,  I find I cannot ignore these news topics either.

In the news:

Follow-ups on Hurricane Matthew in the Southern U.S., as well as updates on the Pacific Northwest “Typhoon” were all the rage a few weeks ago. Actually, Its hard to put the two events in the same sentence since one has been significantly more devastating than the other.  Buildings crumbled under the winds and rain, hundreds of lives lost in Haiti, death-tolls rose from flood waters, and there’s a general sense that we’ve been here before, only under different aliases like Katrina and Sandy. And depending on where one lived, their little brother, Matt, was as much of a bully as they were.  Hmmm...Bullies.  Bullies are all over the news as we watch the color of our skin determine who we love and who we hate.

Of course, also in the news is the presidential race coverage.  Two women still running for president (let’s not forget Jill Stein), and two men (Good ol’ Gary Johnson is hanging in there too), while the two leads, Hillary and Donald, bring their own “hurricane” of sorts, and the general public watches the trajectory of a nation, like a weather tracker watches a storm off the coast.  Distrust mounts, parties find their corners and tighten their gloves; and we the people, are left wondering which is the lesser of two evils.


Still worse is the rising conflict in the Middle East where sorrow lingers on the face of a shell-shocked child, and hovers in the streets like a requiem looking for a cadence.  These are the stories making their way into my home by 7 am, and probably into yours as well. 

We look for answers but answers aren't that easy.  Sometimes we hear the stories and wonder if there’s any hope for a better tomorrow.  What type of future will our children have based on the current world climate – a climate where “typhoons” with water may be the least of their worries?  It’s easy to think that the right government will bring peace - That if we can just get someone good in there, it will all be ok. But the truth is, no one person is that powerful or that good - They were never intended to be.  I am reminded of the words of Gideon in Judges when upon his victory in battle, the people wanted to make him king.  He responded by saying, No.  if I am your king you will look to me rather than to God as your leader.  I wonder how similar we are, looking for a man or a government to rescue us and return us to some form of power where we may once again “thrive”.   Isn’t that what the Jewish people were looking for in Jesus too?  They ushered him in with palm branches, only to shout “crucify him!” a week later when their “coming king” did not perform as expected.  Hate becomes the means to power; and power (in one form or the other) becomes an end in itself.

We are a disappointed and angry nation, and from our passions come, “Crucify him”, “Crucify her".  In our fear we build walls in hopes that we may sandbag ourselves from what we disdain.  Maybe it goes beyond a nation. Maybe we are disappointed and angry world.  Powers posture and hold their stance.  Winds from all directions converge into a perfect storm.  And we wonder what will happen as the waters of war, politics, and disasters rise.

There is but one place where hope is found
The band For All Seasons, says it this way:


"Waters roar and mountains fall
you remain high above it all.  You are high above it all!
Kingdoms rage and nations shake
but you remain high above it all; 
you are high above it all, Almighty God!"


And so like David in Psalm 77, we pause to remember the One who laid the foundations of the earth, and made the sea with a breath.  Where a barren life birthed a nation, while provision was found in a thicket.  Where waters obeyed, and enslaved people were freed.  We recall the One who made the walls fall at the sound of His trumpeted name.  Light shined in the darkness even when the darkness could not comprehend it. This is our God!  - Strong and powerful, High above it all!

And let us not forget that He is also the one who comes near to the broken-hearted, visits the lonely and rejected, and keeps our tears for safe-keeping.  He binds wounds, and forgives sins. He calls the sinner out of the sycamore to share a meal, He gave the prostitute a new name. He loved when love didn’t make sense; and hung on a tree to shatter the power of hate, vengeance, and death…sin.  And he will not forget us – you, me, the country and this world.  We are remembered by Him.  We are forgiven by Him. We are loved by Him.  I need this reminder, don't you? In the words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “Then peeled the bells more loud and deep: God is not dead nor doth he sleep!”* (Words penned by him during a deep grief of his own.)

These current happenings are held in the care of The One who is both powerful and good.  Yet, like so many who have gone before us, we wonder if He is indeed good.  We ask why in his goodness and power have things not changed.  We have questions without answers.  …That’s for the next blog post. For now, we will remember Isaiah 57 - 



A Message from the high and tower God,
    Who lives in Eternity,
    Whose name is Holy:
“I live in the high and holy places,
     But also with the low-spirited, the spirit-crushed,
And what I do is put new spirit in them,

      Get them up and on their feet again. - Isaiah 57:15



*I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1863

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Saddling Up - Setting fear aside to follow God!

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Deut 31:8

A few week ago I enjoyed a weekend get-away with my family and a few friends at Kennedy Meadows Resort and Pack Station.  Kennedy (as we've come to call it) is nestled near the Sierra Nevada Summit in California.  It's one of the last honest cowboy places around, and certainly not "fancy"!  But it's run by real cowboys, and comes complete with a saloon, pack station, a general store, and rustic cabins for overnight stays.  My husband's parents have spent over fifty summers there and know the horses and trails like the back of their hands.  They are great trail guides and generously offer such trips to us when we come, so of course we planned a ride with our friends for the weekend!  

Our friends were new to riding horseback and anxiety was a little high as we waited for a guided trail ride.  I was quick to remind them that the horses know this trail better than we do, so we can trust them!  Trust...hmmm... so here's a teeny confession: Sometimes trust doesn't always come easy for me and when I ride (novice that I am!), I try too hard to control the horse’s movements, tenaciously holding the reigns thinking I know the route better than the creatures who spend countless days taming it (Think James 4:13-15).  And,...well...Usually that’s how I end up in the brush, off the trail, scratched up and trying to turn around (I think that’s called repentance!)  

OK, back to the story.  We spent an hour or so that day meandering through meadows, making our way through the rustic woods and across a river that moved through the meadows like a quiet blessing.  It's funny, while the river seemed quiet, it felt much different as we tried to cross it.  The water's voice grew louder as we made our way into it. The horses hooves slipped and "clopped" on the rocks immersed just beneath the surface. Some of the riders were unsure how to let the horse cross, and there was a little hollering, whinnying, and splashing - anxious chaos! Yet we made our way through those deceptively still waters! 


When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. – Isa 43:2

On the other side came an unexpected respite as the deer lazily greeted us, exchanging soft glances our way while we lingered through gigantic redwood trees that stood as cathedrals among the aspen and wild flowers. It was lovely! 

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
    And lean not on your own understanding;
In all your ways submit to him,
    And he will make your paths straight.  Prov 3:5-6

When our ride ended and we returned to the pack station, I asked our friend Ana, who was visiting from Europe, if she enjoyed it.  Here is what she said: “At first, I felt a lot of fear inside.  I was worried about what might happen, but then I said in my mind to the horse, ‘I know that you are used to this, you know what you are doing, and where you are going; so I will trust you. I will not let fear control me.  If I hold on to fear it will only make things worse. This is good. I am safe. So Let’s go!’  Then I enjoyed the ride very much.”

I couldn’t help but notice how Ana’s story mirrors the journey of following Christ.  It begins with trust - trusting in something, or someone, beyond ourselves to journey us into something new.  But trust can be hard, especially when it means going in a direction that feels unfamiliar or scary, and it requires our surrender! We sense the invitation but fear-feeding thoughts rise to the surface of our mind, don’t they?  We become riddled with what-if’s.  What if I can’t control this? (Hint: We already can’t! ;-)) What if something bad happens and I can’t fix it?  What if I find myself alone with no idea where to go? What if I’m humiliated and lose respect from others? What if this decision causes loss or pain to those I love? What if ….? 

Fear can keep me from ever putting my foot in the stirrup and getting on the horse at all!  Sometimes I’d rather keep my feet on the ground, safe and secure in my comfy place, called predictability.  If our friends did that we would not have gotten on those horses that day; and we would have missed the journey and beauty of the ride.  If Ana stayed focused on her fear, even when she was on the horse, her ride would have been miserable and the only enjoyable part would have been when it was over!   Horses aside, I’ve done that in life, haven’t you? I've opted out of  something when it felt too hard or scary; or in lack of surrender, I’ve gritted my teeth through the journey counting the minutes instead of the blessings – holding tight to the reigns, trying to steer in directions not meant for me.  

Surrendering to the ride is much better.  That’s when we can rest in the calm splendor of God and encounter beautiful rivers of life-giving mercy and grace.  I remember the sound of the horses’ hooves on the rocks as we crossed the river with our friends that day; and I wonder if it isn't similar to how we might can recall the voice of God leading us through the waters of our own story.  He reminds us that, though we may be anxious, He is good and will be good to us.  


Like Ana at the start of her ride, we can say with confidence to God,  "I know that this is not new to you.  You know what you are doing and where you are going.  So I will trust you and I will not let fear control me, fear will only make things worse! This is good, I am safe, so let’s go!”

Friday, September 16, 2016

Singleness and the Church - Opening the doors to robust community

Hello!  
Its been a while and it seems a little crazy to return to Saturdays by posting a blog on Singleness and the Church, but for many this is perhaps the longest "Saturday" of all.  It deserves a shout-out as we, the Body, are invited to consider each other's stories and learn more fully how to live in community together.  It has been a challenge to me as I worked on this. I'd love to hear your thoughts too! - M


It was a warm fall morning as I sat in a crowded café having coffee with a friend. Tears formed a familiar road map along her cheeks. She was cautious not to share them with the passer-byers that crowded the long brick patio. A couple’s small group meeting in the corner only added to her pain. Kim, who attended church since childhood, was now a thirty-something single adult, well established in her career, and searching for a place to belong inside the community she’d known for years. Maybe it’s because I am married to a pastor, maybe it’s because I like coffee houses, regardless, I’ve had many opportunities to witness stories like hers.  Often, as they unfold over shared sips and a biscotti, I sit quietly with more questions than answers.    

I remember learning about community for the first time as a new Christian. I was 15 years old and the radio-show Focus on the Family was emerging onto the scene. Though not yet married, I enjoyed how it discussed the ideals of what a Christian family might be like in practical ways. This show, and others like it, had a growing influence on the American church. Today, over 30 years later, congregations everywhere have adopted an emphasis on family within their church programming.
  
Churches offer support groups for struggling marriages and hold all-church family movie or “fall festival” nights. In February there may be a couple’s Valentines dinner. We encourage the whole family to participate in things like Vacation Bible School and have developed marriage small group Bible studies. We have a special morning for moms of preschoolers and Sunday school classes for all seasons of marriage or parenting.  Some even plan family camp-outs. Sermons are peppered with application points or examples that fit well inside family life. I’ve watched husbands and wives reunite, as they become part of such a church culture. All of this has been remarkably beneficial and, personally, as a wife and mother, I am glad for it.  Yet many, like my friend Kim, struggle to find their place within it.  It seems in the church’s concerted effort to support the family; it has inadvertently marginalized those who are single. 
Real Stories

            Several months ago, after our Sunday morning service, I listened to a conversation between two women.  Sandy shared that she and her husband, and a few mutual friends, enjoyed a movie together the night before. The second woman, Margaret, who was recently widowed, hadn’t been invited.  Sandy saw her friend’s disappointment, but her well-meaning efforts to console did not help as she responded by saying, “Oh don’t worry, it was just couples anyway.”  Apparently by those qualifications, Margaret would have been included four weeks earlier when her husband was still living, but now when she may need those outings the most, she wasn’t. I don’t fault her friends; they were simply acting within the context of the culture. But what does that suggest about the culture?

The struggling single mom or dad faces similar realities. Often their friends don’t know what to do when divorce has restructured their family. Once included in the Friday night dinners or Sunday lunches, suddenly single parents find themselves out of the loop or inadvertently not invited. After all, most tables are set for six or eight, not seven. Family outings with those friends begin to dwindle too, and slowly over time, they don’t happen at all. Without intention, the single parent along with his or her children drift quietly to the side lines at a time when being included could provide much needed support and healing. 

Some, like my friend Kim, long to be married but Mr. or Mrs. Right hasn’t come along. For others, marriage isn’t in their immediate sights and may never be. But in all cases there is a common desire to be a part of a community and be regularly included in it. One specific story stands out, but it is by no means the exception, my friend Julie was asked by several of her friends, who happened to be married, to help plan a party. Thrilled to be included, Julie obliged.  She spent hours with them designing the invitations, creating the centerpieces, and planning the food, only to find out as the day approached, that because she was single, she was not invited to the event. On another occasion, Julie’s well-meaning friends said to her, “We need to find you a spouse so you can come to our small group Bible study.” This was a study that was not specific around marriage. It’s clear her friends like her, but they don’t know how to include her.

It seems increasingly difficult for the family oriented culture of the church to embrace and enfold those who are single. Yet in 2014, the percentage of the world’s single adult population exceeded the married population for the first time. As a result, this is a demographic that cannot be overlooked. Their hurt, pain, triumphs and joys do not happen outside of the community, they happen in it. Their stories, just as remarkable and complex as those of married couples. Their contribution, profoundly needed in the church and in our own lives. Yet it seems, with the exception of a singles group (which rarely gains traction in most churches and usually accommodates a rather narrow age span), the ways a single adult can connect are slim at best.  Many of these individuals are asking the question, “Where do I belong?”  Often our response has been suggestions for how to serve rather than a welcome to the dinner table. How, with such good intentions, did the we - the Body, become so exclusive?
A Few of the Factors

With every cultural dynamic there are factors that contribute to it. Some in regards to this particular dynamic seem fairly subtle. First, there seems to be a stigma around the “odd number.” We use familiar phrases like: “Don’t be the odd man out” or “I felt like the third wheel.”  On the other hand, even numbers are everywhere - at dinner tables, on amusement park rides, they’re even on dinner menus as a meal option! I wonder what would happen if we set the visiting tables on church patios with odd numbers instead of even. At least a few. I wonder how inviting that extra chair may be for someone.
 
Another factor can be explained as I share one of my own experiences. After I married and began having children, my routine changed and I was less apt to run into friends who were not in the same stage of life I was.  My friend, Elaine, came to me during that time telling me how our lack of connection felt like a divorce to her. I had become so caught up in this new stage of life and connecting with new friends who shared similar things like diaper rash stories, or tantrum strategies, I had no idea the abandonment my single friends experienced. And frankly, at the time, I also had no idea how to do it differently.  I think the newly divorced or widowed adult feels something similar as their friends socially connect with those who share their married status and inadvertently neglect to remain connected with their non-married friends.  It seems like a classic case of “Out of sight out of mind”. I imagine, in this situation, a married couple that does not have children can feel equally set aside.

Perhaps even more systemic than either of the previous two examples is the subtle, yet common assumption that adult life officially begins at marriage. Somehow there is an unspoken belief, especially in the church, that one has not yet fully “arrived” until they are married with children. It is all too natural, then, to begin valuing one particular stage of life over another. Once values are set, appropriate energies are streamlined in that direction – primarily around the nuclear family. With such prioritization on family, singleness can often be perceived as a plane taxiing on the runway; making laps on the ground with no movement yet in the sky. It is presumed they are in a holding pattern, waiting for life to “take-off” and find flight. Yet nowhere does scripture say that real life begins at marriage. Purpose is breathed into us as we find ourselves before the Father, loved and complete, fully equipped by him to do good no matter our age, job, financial or marital status. (Eph 2:8-10)

Finding Center

How do we find center in a hyper-focused family culture? A good place to begin is to re-examine what we’ve made center. While the institution is important, we as individuals, have perhaps created an idol within it, and our programs serve that idol. Focusing on the nuclear family unit is by all means noble, and many such programs are good and helpful. However, family was never intended to be the focal point of our Christ-following or the church’s, and our well-intentioned commitment to it (both individually and institutionally) could be the very thing that prevents us from welcoming the way Jesus would. There is, in fact, a larger family unit to consider, the family of God, where we are all brothers and sisters and children of the Good and Perfect Father. If we can disrupt our programing and crack open the doors a bit to enfold the one standing on the outside, we will catch a glimpse of what Dallas Willard was quoted as saying in Richard Foster’s book The Celebration of Discipline, “God’s aim from the beginning of time [has been] to establish an all-inclusive community of loving persons with God at the center as its prime sustainer and most glorious inhabitant.” With this vision of the Kingdom, the distinction between the married and single life begins to fade into something more beautiful and robust.



 The banquet table of God is set one-by-one and not two-by-two (that was the Ark!) In the house of God each of us hold a place at the table.  We are fellow citizens and family members, none less or more distinguished than the other (see Mathew 20:1-16, Ephesians 2:19-22). Each one can find themselves included if they so choose to enter and participate by way of His grace. This is where we sit in the presence of our enemies, it is where our cup over flows and we feast on the love of God, side-by-side, rich or poor, married or single.  And it is God himself who sits at the head as the “Most Glorious” One. As we orient His direction, even when it means releasing our ideals of a nuclear family, He will establish his community among us.  A community that is much larger and more diverse than before. We can trust that in focusing on HIM “Seeking first His kingdom and righteousness” … that “all these things will be added as well.” (Matt 6:11)

 How do we, the Body, find a way to form a community of discipleship that represents this balance? In our current culture it may mean becoming more open to inter-seasonal life stages. After all, isn’t this the way the Early Church did it? It seems that age and stage had little impact on the communities of Christ-following that were emerging early on. It’s only been in the last few decades that we’ve seen that shift, and the rich inter-generational influence has been lost in it. This isn’t to say that gatherings based on age or stage of life are not an important part of the process. We need both. However, it’s often it’s often in the swing where we find a balance. Maybe we need a swing in that direction for a while to allow us to break out of our routines and find the balance. We have been trying this in our church for a while and it has not been without it’s struggles.  However, in the mess, a beauty is emerging as more and more of us dislodge from long-held patterns of relating that once closed the circle of our community. A family of 5 no longer hesitated to call their single friend and together they drove to pick out a Christmas tree, then shared in setting up and decorating them. Another young family invited a couple without children on a weekend get-away and they shared in the responsibilities and recreation together. Sunday after church a couple helped a recently widowed woman find a new car and negotiate the details with the dealership.  My friends who are single are also learning to reach out, knowing they are part of us and their presence is a blessing. Can you feel your heart expand as you consider these stories? Is there a story into which God is inviting you?

Churches are made up of people, and while an institution can create basic structures to assist in culture, it cannot change the culture. Change begins on the individual level. As long as I remained neatly tucked inside my comfort zone within my well-established relationships, this dynamic was difficult for me to recognize.  It wasn’t until I broke out of that comfort zone and could hear the stories of others that I began to understand the pain of exclusion and the joy of inclusion. Like many of you, I still need work in this area. I can be rather hesitant to disrupt my routine to welcome someone new into it. I initially anticipate loss rather than gain. Yet it has also been my experience that as I’ve opened my tight places of circled community to include others, the gains have far outweighed any anticipated losses.



In the end, it is up to us (single or married) to align the way we think about singleness with God’s heart and perspective. His Spirit graciously empowers us toward change as we renew our minds in Him (Rom 12:1-2). When we become more open to including others, His resources of grace will dynamically change for the better how we live and love. Churches will look different because they will be made up of people who have become different. We will be more loving and find ourselves as “family” through the welcoming ways of Christ.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

A Diamond In the Rough - What I learned about EBay, Barbies, and becoming God's beloved

"While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."

I have a confession. I used to be an EBay vendor.  Yep, It’s true. I love garage sales, and old dusty treasures that most people would rather discard. To me, they are “diamonds in the rough” and I find it crazy satisfying when others see value in those nostalgic-somethings too.  I guess that’s why selling things on EBay was such a good fit for me back in the day.   I sold everything from old Champion Juicers, to toy tractors, and old hats.  It was fun to find discarded treasures and give them another chance at life.  It was usually a bit of a gamble too, because no matter what I originally paid, the real value was always determined by the highest bid at the end of the auction.
I remember the day I picked up two boxes of Barbie dolls at a garage sale.  My husband must have thought I was crazy when I spent just about all we had left in the budget on them.  (Thankfully payday was only two days away!)  I had no idea what was in the boxes, but I handed the man $25.00, piled them in my car and drove away with a new treasure.

That night, I took my first look at that investment as I unpacked the boxes. What a mess! A Ken doll with chewed up legs and a missing arm, a Barbie head with no body, dolls I didn’t recognize, old clothes and accessories that seemed faded and worthless!  It didn't help that my husband sat three feet away from me while I scrubbed layers of dirt off these old things for who knows how long. He had to be wondering why he married such a crazy person!  I remember wishing I'd waited until the next day when he was at work.  That way I could hide the grime of some of it!  But Barbies hold intrinsic value sometimes, and maybe there was value hiding underneath some of this dirt and grime. 
The pressure was getting to me as I scrubbed, Which is why when I found a pair of small red shoes requiring no cleaning, I took a picture, went to the computer and listed them on the spot.  Only in my hurry I accidentally added an extra zero to the starting bid.  immediately I realized what I did and went to change the amount from $20.00 to $2.00.  However, to my surprise they were already purchased!  I was shocked!  (Apparently, if the bottom image says "Made in Japan" , its a big deal!)  Who knew that a tiny pair of red plastic shoes would sell for more than the real pair I had sitting in my closet! So, I listed a few more things.  The Barbie without a body…she sold for $52! And that chewed-up Ken doll?  Someone purchased him for $73!  There were clothes that sold by the outfit for over $150, cars and Francie dolls for even more! (turns out the unknown dolls were Francie and Midge... and also a big deal!) In the end, my little investment of twenty-five “junkie” dollars turned into over $2,500! 
Now you might be wondering why I shared this story on a Saturday’s Blog. After all, the story's interesting but why put it into a spiritual formation blog? Here’s why:  To many, those Barbies looked like old, dirty, discarded junk.  I certainly had no idea what they were worth until I knew what someone was willing to pay for them.  The people who bought them understood their real value. And that’s MY story!  It’s YOUR story too! ...For God SO LOVED the world that He gave his one and only son...He became the highest bidder.

Like the dusty treasures I used to find for EBay, we are like diamonds in the rough. Each of us hold intrinsic beauty and value that come from being HIS. But, much like what I found in those boxes, we may look at our life and see all the mess and blemishes and devalue our worth. sometimes the pressure gets to us as we try and scrub out blemishes by acting the part of someone who has it all together; we want to hide like I wanted to hide the dirty boxes from my husband. But there is something more profound than our mess. Even when our circumstances and broken ways of living shroud us in muck, God finds crazy joy in redeeming our story.

In your messiest condition, someone saw you and wanted you.   HE is the one who sits with you in the mess and lovingly tends to your dusty story; redeeming it for something beautiful! You were made in his image. Your value was determined on the cross. Your potential has resurrection power! 

 Scripture says it this way,

…”He rewrites the text of my life when I open the book of my heart to His eyes…He makes my life complete when I place all the pieces before him…He stood me up on a wide-open field, and I stood there saved, surprised to be love.”  (Ps 18: 25,21,20 – in that order)


What are the messy parts of your story?
Ask God to show you how to open up your heart to His eyes
Let him love you in the mess, tend to the shame, and lead you into something/someone new.

After all, we love because He first loved us! (1 John 4:19)

Thursday, April 28, 2016

What's In a Song? - A look at "Traditional" v. "Contemporary" worship.


"For I will praise you, O Lord, among the nations, and sing praises to your name!"
 2 Sam 22:50



Several years ago our son, Ben, came home from church and asked, “Why don’t we sing any of the old songs in church anymore?”  A little surprised, I asked him what he meant by “old songs”. 
“You know, like Shout to the Lord and Jesus Messiah.  Why can’t we sing those anymore?”   I had to chuckle, here was our 10 year old boy bemoaning the idea that his favorite songs might be going away at church!  I tried to explain to him how we’d sing those songs again but its good to learn new ones too.  My answer didn’t satisfy him very much. Coincidentally, just a few days before Ben’s lament, I was with a group of senior adults who were asking the same question, only their version of “old songs” was much different! And it did not involve chord charts or amplifiers, but instead a book with four-part harmonies held inside stanzas, neatly bound with gold lettering on the front.  I offered to them the same answer I gave my son and their response appeared equally dissatisfied.  No matter our age the issue of what we sing at church sits close to the heart!  
I suppose we all want to sing songs we can relate to and that feel familiar to us.  

For the record, at our church we sing hymns as well as contemporary choruses.  (...and I probably shouldn't mention how hymn melodies were often taken from "contemporary" bar tunes of the day.)

The other day while driving to work the old Michael W. Smith song, Friends, came on the radio. As I listened, my heart was transported back in time by 30 years!  The emotions of saying goodbye to high school friends at graduation came flooding in and I felt like a teenager all over again! (Sappy, I know...) But that’s when it hit me.  Songs, in their unique way, help us remember.  My son wanted to sing the songs he knew because they were not only familiar to him, but because he was building memories associated with them. They were important memories that would help him recall God years down the road.  Emotions were tied to those memories as he stood with his friends every week singing about God's truth in ways that were new to them.  The Spirit used those lyrics and melodies to help root their growing faith in God.  

The same can be said of me. Sometimes songs not only trigger special memories, but anchor me in the storms of life.  I remember one Sunday when I was grieving a second miscarriage. The worship team at church started to sing “Shout to the Lord”, and oh man! I did NOT want to join them!  But as I sat and listened to the words, “Shout to the Lord let us sing.  Power and Majesty and praise to the king.  Mountains fall down and the seas will roar at the sound of your name...” something in me started to change.  It happened about the same time the song changed keys…”I sing for joy at the works of your hand.”  Suddenly while everyone else was sitting I found myself rising to stand, “Forever I love you, forever I’ll stand, nothing compares to the promise I have in you.”  For a moment my grief had been swallowed up in the larger expression of God and I was finding relief from the weight of my loss.  In it came the strength to inwardly declare: “Though I am in pain, yet will I praise you.”  To this day when I hear that song I remember the ministry of God that happened to me that day.

And so it is with that sweet senior adult community I spoke with as well.  Singing their familiar songs from long ago, allows them to recall God's faithful work.  My grandmother wept every time she sang Great Is Thy Faithfulness because events throughout her life had shown her how faithful God really is! 

All of this causes me to really consider what we are doing and why we do it when we sing in church.  I’m becoming more and more convinced that as long as there are people with stories sitting in our pews, then we ought to be singing their songs. – New, old, whatever.  Something marvelous and beautiful happens when we stand with one another and, through song, bear witness to the work of God in each other’s lives! Songs hold our story.  Lets not mute such a testimony based on style or preference.  Instead let Grandparent stand beside Grandchild while together we sing both the old and new melodies that bear witness of God's redeeming work.  Perhaps a story is held in the words of Amazing grace for one, and Jesus Messiah or Oceans for another.  What we have in common is how these melodies become the collective expression of our faith-story.  And Sunday becomes the time when we gather, find cadence with each other, pause to remember, and receive Grace.


So senior adult, when the young ones are singing a new song, take a moment to learn it, notice the story being weaved in its melody, and rest in the work of God being done.  Introduce them as well to the songs that tell your story.  Teach them to regard and remember the Faithful One who has gone before you and will go before them.  After all, the value of a song is not in its style, but in its capacity to hold the stories being written in the heart of it's singers.

What songs's hold your story?



Saturday, March 26, 2016

Holy Saturday - When the story doesn't go the way we expect and God seems oh so silent!


So today is THE Saturday for which this blog was named, which is why it seemed just plain wrong to bypass posting for today.  I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,  Things I am learning as I move through the loss of a loved one, things I’m learning as I make vocational changes, and places of flux as my family grows up and my role shifts in their life.  All feel like a “Saturday” of sorts.  The sun is setting while Friday goes to sleep,  Sunday is not yet here and I find myself, as one would, lingering between “death” and life.  Waiting, sometimes weary, sometimes, sleepy, sometimes at rest.  It’s rather quiet in my soul, like the hushed obedience the mountains give after a fresh-fallen snow.

 We remember Christ crucified on Good Friday and Christ Risen and alive on Sunday -Friday and Sunday,  but what about the in-between Holy Saturday?  Not much is said about the day when God goes silent and a resurrection has yet to come. The day when all that is known is the aftermath of recent loss or the vague sense that something is not quite right.  Saturday has gone largely unacknowledged for me.   What does one do with this symbolic bridge-day that moves us from death to life? 

Well today on March 26, 2016 I have met with a client, sat with my mom as we thought about facing the first holiday without my dad.  I've taken my daughter to find Easter shoes, helped my son and his friend head back up to college for their final quarter, and will pick up dinner rolls,...my portion of the Easter meal.  (A case of bronchitis makes me glad for packaged rolls!) My husband has worked hard this week to prepare a sermon that will break the rhetoric hum of the Easter Bedtime story – (and I think he did, by the way!)  Earlier today he headed 40 minutes away to to evict a tenant and struggled deeply to do it in a way that is loving and good.  I’ve navigated a difficult conflict with a close friend and experienced deep pain, betrayal, and regret in the process... and I suppose they have too.  The laundry is slowly getting done, and my kitchen counter is visible for the first time since the boys came home last week (Let’s hear it for small victories!!) That’s what this in-between day has held…mini in-between moments, unfinished business, less than ideal snapshots of real life, and the reminder that something is not yet quite right.

But Sunday is coming.  Tomorrow we will sing, listen, reflect and pray on what this resurrection means - how we are grateful, wonder if we are, wish we felt more grateful or maybe elated that we do! Christ's crucifixion made available to us his risen life. 

Resurrection...Life arises from death. The first generation of wilderness-Israelites died before God would lead their children into the promise land. Even nature bears witness to this death-to-life phenomenon. A pine cone consumed in a fire releases its otherwise dormant seeds birthing a forest out of the ashes. And as I look back on the past few years it seems I've experienced a similar passage-a firestorm of sorts- in which my own dreams & desires - what I know to be my "life" are slowly being laid to rest.  

Its been said, God's dreams are better. There have been glimpses of that in this journey. And in it, this incidental Saturday-season becomes God’s silent storm where he comes near,  holds us as we writhe, weeps with us, and loves us intimately.  It happens in those stormy places that we often dare not share with another human heart; that's where God finds his home. He decends into those hellish shadows longing for deliverance, and we are forever changed! 

We journey to Sunday by way of the cross. Dallas Willard said, "We were meant to be inhabited by God and live by a power beyond ourselves.  Human problems cannot be solved by human means." He was so right! As we surrender to the pause, waiting becomes active.  Somewhere, out of the ashes, new life emerges as the Divine One works on our behalf.  Oh how I have been tempted to run - Haven't you?!  But we must stay in this Saturday, every hour of it, before Sunday dawns.  There are no short-cuts, just ordinary-remarkable happenings with a God who shows up along the way.

So in some ways, I've grown rather fond of this "wait-day" – there are times I wouldn't wish it away.  That's when the grit of my struggle finds the embrace of God's love.   But there are other days when my soul sits in begging screams – pleading to be taken off this bridge, this highway, that's commanding my surrender.   Yet... as I remain...God's hand works in ways I thought were impossible; and slowly, ever. so. slowly, there is a sliver, a glorious sliver of light as Sunday's dawn peeks over the horizon, awakening my dormant soul.  It all happens through the sacred wait of Saturday.

So...What are your Saturday moments?  
Could it be God is journeying you to Sunday's dawn through them?
How can you encounter Him and cooperate with Him along the way?

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

What Dad Would Tell the World - One of the last conversations between a father and his daughter.

Dad and Mom the first day He checked into Stanford on July 17th
 Most who read this blog know that my father has been fighting leukemia for the past seven months.  On Jan 25th that fight ended and Dad found himself at home in God’s love embraced by Jesus …for real and forever. Yesterday we paid tribute to his life.  Some have asked if I would share what I shared at his memorial service.  The following is what was shared.

On January 9, I sat down with my dad and asked if he could tell the world anything, what would it be?  He said three things…

“Following Jesus doesn’t always lead us to a place where we want to be.”

In fact, I noticed a Lenten devotional from last spring in His bible that said as much.  It seemed God was preparing him before he ever knew he’d be taking this journey. 

It’s easy to assume if we follow Jesus and do what’s “right” that it will lead to a “blessing” we expect.  The truth is my dad was angry about cancer at first, and the way it was stealing his life.  He felt cheated and so did a lot of us. There were many dark days.  Yet, through a disease that was taking my dad’s life far sooner than he wanted, he was learning the “blessing of following Jesus was actually Jesus… not necessarily good circumstances. And the gift of following Christ was not his presenTS wrapped up in neat little bows set pristinely upon a shelf. Rather, it was his presenCE that comes near when everything else goes dark and life begins to unravel those pretty bows and burst out of our tidy boxes. I suppose that’s why he also said to me during the same visit,

“Michellie, Don’t fall too in love with the world. Wear it loosely.”

Dad was beginning to understand how his despair (and ours) is often rooted in our commitment to the very temporal and unpredictable things of this place called earth.   We strain after our dreams and demand our rights.  We spend time climbing the corporate ladder, and dusting off old trophies.

But loosening his grip on those things allowed my dad to surrender himself to the story God was writing. He encountered God in that surrender even when the journey did not lead to a place he “wanted” to be.  In the struggle, he found the blessings and goodness of God.  It showed up in the presence of friends who stayed by him as he weathered these last few months?  It sometimes appeared in the night as God brought a company of heavenly hosts to hover and attend him in his fear.  It showed up in care-givers who gently came along side to comfort his pain.  It showed up in strained relationships now made whole. And that was a big deal to him.  My dad said one more thing that day…

He said, “I wouldn’t let lousy relationships go unattended.”

"I wouldn’t put off conflict.  I would have been less angry.
I would pick relationships over everything else and I would do it more."
I asked what everything else was and he said, “My rights, my expectations, my ideals, my pride.  There is never a conflict so big that it should eclipse the relationship or our ability to love in it.  Never.” 

My dad didn’t say this because he always got it right.  He said it because he did the heart work when he got it wrong.

Lastly, as I consider the eternal home my dad now enjoys, perhaps if he could say anything to us now, he’d tell us how complete and beautiful it is – that what seems incomplete to us now here on earth, is  already made whole in eternity; and God’s promises are all true - every one of them.  He’d tell us God is gloriously good, and how he is at home in His love - a love that is every bit what we’ve imagined, even more!  He’d invite us to taste it, to trust the journey and know that even when it takes us down paths we’d rather not travel, chances are it’s in those dark places where we will find God in the way we’ve always longed to know him. 

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Staying - When we stay in the valley and become honest with God something remarkable happens

The last SATURDAYS post talked about God redeeming even the darkest parts of our story.  I love that idea...God turning despair into hope, Night into day, dark into light. But often the idea is a lot easier than the execution.  How do these dark-wait-days become redeemed?  How can we practically find God in them?  Have you asked these questions?  I know I have!  
    
Perhaps it begins when we stop trying to turn on the light ourselves.  Of course it's only natural to look for light in dark places.  When my dad got sick I wanted to find ways to alleviate the pain and shock of it all.  No one with any appetite for life initially enters a difficult season by saying, "Oh yeah baby!  Bring it on...the more desolate the better!"  Nope...  We initially want out!  But skipping across the top of pain does not allow us to be present with it; and only as we become present with it that we will find healing.


While I believe that to be true, often I need to learn how to do it.  In the case with my dad, the only thing I really knew was that I didn’t like it.  I wanted things to go back to the way they were.  I dreaded the journey ahead for him, my mom, for everybody.  So, secretly in my heart, I tried to find a light switch to turn on.  I wanted to illuminate this path and find something better, but there was no light switch.  (Now, before anyone corrects me, don’t worry, I already know Jesus is the light of life...I don't need a reminder) Since I could not find a way to illuminate that path, I groped for a door and looked for a way out, but every door opened to the same reality.  I was so frustrated and overwhelmed.  But God had a plan, He still does.  And one of the gifts of such sacred darkness is that there is no escape.  

To find the light of Christ we must be willing to journey the dark, solemn places of our soul that rise up and question the goodness of God.  Job did that and he wasn't scolded, he was actually reminded of God.  Perhaps some would say, we shouldn’t question God’s goodness, or that we should trust him more.  Well, that’s a good idea and when you meet someone who has that figured out, let me know.   I have tried bringing my “should” or “shouldn’t” self to God.  It doesn’t work very well, because it isn’t my real-self.  I don’t need God to love the person I should be, I need him to love the person I AM.  Nothing discloses the real-me more than moments of desolation.  

I suppose that’s why raw honesty works best...at least it does for me.  In that hotel room near Stanford sometime around 3 am I could cry out, “God, I don’t like this!  I’m overwhelmed with sadness and disappointment.   I don’t trust you to be good right now because the pain and shock I feel eclipses much of what I’ve learned about you....or at least what I've come to believe. If you are who you say you are, please come and meet me here.” …And he did, and he brought his goodness with him.  Like Job, I wasn't scolded in his presence, I was reminded.
So I asked God to open my eyes to what was real and to see His goodness in it.  As I came across a garden at Stanford I was reminded there is a Gardener that grows beautiful things from dirt that holds seeds; and the soil bed of our hearts are being prepared, all the time, for sacred work and beauty.  Walking through the many waiting areas God gave me eyes to see past the medicine and notice the sleepy sojourners in waiting rooms, unforgotten by the One who is high above it all.  He's the one who remembers our waiting condition and keeps us present before the Father even when  we can't do so ourselves (Rom 8, Isa 55:8-9).  He collects our tears and carries our sorrows (Ph 56:8).  He does it while we work out our disappointments with Him, with our story and with ourselves.  

It takes time to make room for such soul-space.  Silence and solitude are key.  In them, the many screams from this crazy roller-coaster can be silenced. His still small voice finds an echo that carries its way to the canyons of our dismay.  And while we wait in the basin of darkness, we learn to die.  We loosen our grip on what we must have, who we must be, the things we must accomplish, and we simply begin to rest in who we are and what we’ve been given.  We become present with ourselves and, if we invite him, Jesus shows up too.  The sinner dines with Holiness and in the power of God’s loving presence, we are changed. 

I am slowly learning to let the Light of Life love me in honest visitations.  This, after all, is our inheritance.  Let us receive it with…joy.



Become silent for a moment. Stay quiet long enough to notice what's rumbling in your heart and mind?   
What honest plea might you have for God? 
Practice trusting Him by voicing that plea before him.  Set your 'should' and 'shouldn't' aside and  dare to speak what rises up.
Let the Light of Life love you in the darkness and hold you present before Himself. 

Hear Him say, "Oh beloved, show me your face, let me hear your voice.  For your voice is sweet and your face is lovely.  There's nothing in your story that I have not seen and remembered."   


More later….