I've been thinking about what it means to be in ministry. I've been thinking that ministry is a way of life, but not the way of life I thought it was. It's certainly consumed pretty much my entire existence for the last 13 years. You know, the glass house, the never ending meetings, the whole "dont-because-you-might-be-a-stumbling-block-to-someone-else" thing. The weight of a few hundred people's hurts, the weddings, the funerals, the hospitals. And then there's the leadership part, the whole "those who teach will be judged more harshly" thing. And the exhaustion. And the casseroles, the Christmas parties, the pretty clothes, and the not wanting to do anything that might embarrass Jesus.
Yesterday, I was reading a column of satire featuring commentary on Christian televangelists and "star personalities." The column was dripping with sarcasm, but was commenting on true actions of the Christian leaders. It occurred to me that somewhere along the way, these leaders had lost the focus on what it really means to be a servant of God. Somehow it became all televisions and lights and money and emotion and status. At this point, out came the stupid behavior. The kind that J. Lee Grady said "gives the church a black eye."
Then last night, I sat in LIVEChat and was surrounded by single moms and people with incredible stories and incredible needs. I got a chance to love people who are different from me, to put my arms around people who hadn't been hugged in days, and the thought came to me that THIS is a part of ministry I never want to get away from. Yes, part of my work for God is writing and talking to groups of people, and that part is really fun for me. Jesus talked to big crowds too. But He also spent His life in very personal interaction with people. He went to houses where no one else would go, and touched people no one else would touch. Sometimes we get so busy doing church stuff that we don't imitate that part of Jesus' life. Sometimes I think He has to be most embarrassed by our nice clothes, comfortable lives, and pharisaeical behavior.
I just don't want ministry to become a monster in and of itself, one that takes the place of true Christ-following. It's so easy for this to happen. Sadly, years of my own life were spent doing church work and possibly never really imitating Jesus. Just like the pharisee and the priest that crossed to the other side of the road because they didn't have time for an injured man. The words "good" and "Samaritan" would have been an oxymoron in Jesus' day. The Samaritan man was the least likely minister and yet he was the most effective. It's just becoming very clear to me that there is a BIG difference these days between what is classically approved "Christian lifestyle" and what is deep, passionate Christ-following.
As I'm stepping forward in "ministry" myself, I'm realizing that I've got to stay focused on the real stuff of living for Jesus. And I'm realizing that that real stuff has little to do with the clothes I wear, the money I have, or the size of group that I'm in front of. It has everything to do with forgetting about staying comfy and clean and crossing back to the side of the road where the ones who have been robbed lay bloody and waiting to die. It has to do with binding wounds, carrying the injured, and spending myself on their recovery. That's the real stuff.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
DEEE-Lish!
And there you have it. The yummiest part of my day. Today I spent some time having coffee with a friend. When she and I are together, there's plenty of trouble and lots of throw-back-your-head laughing. This cup of coffee looked so pretty I just had to take a picture.
Hope you had a vanilla-almond espresso with half-and-half and plenty of sugar and whipped cream and cinnamon on top kind of day!
Monday, September 24, 2007
It's Really Here!
My book came in over the weekend!! It won't be in stores until around November, but my first copy arrived in my mailbox Saturday! YAY!
Can you believe it?? My picture's on the back and everything!!
Sometimes I forget to celebrate this. I don't know why. Maybe because the process has been so long and arduous. But, I'm an author! A real one! A real live publisher liked my book enough to publish it! This is SO COOL! Have yourself a party on my behalf tonight, Ok?
Can you believe it?? My picture's on the back and everything!!
Sometimes I forget to celebrate this. I don't know why. Maybe because the process has been so long and arduous. But, I'm an author! A real one! A real live publisher liked my book enough to publish it! This is SO COOL! Have yourself a party on my behalf tonight, Ok?
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Zing!
I love my job. This weekend I got to speak to over 400 women. We laughed and learned and I loved it!
My friend Julie, whose encouraging words were invaluable this weekend, told me something that I'm still thinking over. She said I was in what Max Lucado calls "the sweet spot." The place where your gifts and what you love to do intersect with God's will for you. She said, "When you're in that place, when what you love to do and what you are called to do intersect, there's a zing!"
You know, I was having so much fun, I almost felt guilty! Friday night, Kathy and I were walking around the pond at Camp Living Waters praying and talking with God about Saturday's events. As we were praying, the Lord reminded me of all the times He had changed my life or spoken to me in amazing ways at a retreat or event like we were about to have. I vividly remember the first time I went on a retreat, I was around 13 or 14. It was a life changing thing for me. Since that time, God has spoken to me, connected with me, and changed me through a camp or retreat when I was able to leave regular life for a while and really listen to Him.
He started helping me understand that while I'm having such a great time, HE could actually be speaking to people and working in THEM like He has with me so many times. Can I just tell you how much JOY there is in doing what you love and knowing that God is using what you are doing to make a difference in someone's life?? Sweet spot, indeed.
ZING!!!
My friend Julie, whose encouraging words were invaluable this weekend, told me something that I'm still thinking over. She said I was in what Max Lucado calls "the sweet spot." The place where your gifts and what you love to do intersect with God's will for you. She said, "When you're in that place, when what you love to do and what you are called to do intersect, there's a zing!"
You know, I was having so much fun, I almost felt guilty! Friday night, Kathy and I were walking around the pond at Camp Living Waters praying and talking with God about Saturday's events. As we were praying, the Lord reminded me of all the times He had changed my life or spoken to me in amazing ways at a retreat or event like we were about to have. I vividly remember the first time I went on a retreat, I was around 13 or 14. It was a life changing thing for me. Since that time, God has spoken to me, connected with me, and changed me through a camp or retreat when I was able to leave regular life for a while and really listen to Him.
He started helping me understand that while I'm having such a great time, HE could actually be speaking to people and working in THEM like He has with me so many times. Can I just tell you how much JOY there is in doing what you love and knowing that God is using what you are doing to make a difference in someone's life?? Sweet spot, indeed.
ZING!!!
Saturday, September 15, 2007
FLOOD
Too tired to say much, except...
Ya know that Bible verse about God opening the windows of heaven and pouring out such a blessing that there would not be room enough to recieve it?
THAT HAPPENED TO ME THIS WEEKEND!!!!!!!
Ya know that Bible verse about God opening the windows of heaven and pouring out such a blessing that there would not be room enough to recieve it?
THAT HAPPENED TO ME THIS WEEKEND!!!!!!!
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Happy news!
I'm so excited!! Camp Living Waters' Spa Day has registered 325 women! YAY!! So this Saturday, I get to speak to 325 women about Rest, Rejuvenation, and Recovery!
I can't wait! Can you BELIEVE this is my JOB????
AND on top of that... Just a pic of the superhero that lives in my house:
Don't you feel safer now?
I can't wait! Can you BELIEVE this is my JOB????
AND on top of that... Just a pic of the superhero that lives in my house:
Don't you feel safer now?
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Lottery and Leadership
I spent today doing what I love, then had a yummy dinner with the people I love, and now I'm settled in at home with a happy exhaustion. Today I got to teach a women's ministry workshop at Ridgecrest on the River, a conference for church leaders. Before I fade completely out, I have to share some thoughts about the day.
At the end of the day, there was a conference-wide worship service. The speaker, Dr. Bill Taylor, said and showed some things that have really got me pondering. He talked about some of the Southern Baptist leaders from 1950-1980 and their innovative ministry methods. What was groundbreaking innovation in their day has become "the way we do it" in this denomination. Dr. Taylor cited the example of the Sunday evening service, which was created during a time when many homes had no electricity, but often the church in town did have electricity. Some innovative leader saw that people wanted to come where there was electricity, so they began an evening service that resulted in many new believers. What was, in its day, a creative method for ministry has now become a sacred cow for many.
As he presented these thoughts, Dr. Taylor showed us a graph. The graph displayed Southern Baptist growth during the 1950's to 1980's, showing an explosive growth for that period. Of course, it also displayed the slight but steady decline that has occurred over the last couple of decades.
I couldn't help asking myself some sobering questions. I was reminded of a time when I was "coasting" on the wealth of knowledge my parents placed in me. Mom and Dad implanted in my brain a veritable textbook of Southern Baptist doctrine and scripture memory. I felt satisfied with this knowledge for a long time. After all, I could quote circles around most Christians I knew. I could go long periods of time without experiencing anything new from God and no one was the wiser because I talked the talk so well. I had a treasure of knowledge, and that was great, but it sure didn't take the place of real, life changing connection with God. Eventually, I couldn't coast any longer.
Is this where we are as a denomination? Have we been coasting on the surge of growth brought about through the inspiration God gave to the leaders of past decades?
Think about it. If I won the lottery, I'd quit working. The millions would give me a sense of safety, a feeling that I could finally afford to take a little time off. Has the explosive growth of last century given our denomination a "lotto" mentality? After all, we've become the largest and richest protestant denomination in America, so we can afford to coast a while on the hard won victories of our past leaders. But, can we really?
As Dr. Taylor referenced the ideas of leaders gone before, I don't believe he was recommending that we return to their specific programs. He was urging us to grasp for ourselves the passion and courage behind their ideas. They took the risk of trying new things like Sunday night services in their attempt to share the good news about the kingdom of heaven. Where did we get the idea that we could just steal their ideas and not do the work of innovation and creativity for ourselves? At what point did we become so comfortable with the windfall of growth that we no longer felt the need to keep up with the changing needs of people in our society?
I don't think they expected the next generation to ride their ministry coat tails. I think they expected us to find newer, more effective ways to minister to a new generation. And it's becoming evident that our "free ride" has a cost after all.
I don't like this idea of coasting. I want the adventure, the suspense, and the intense work that it will take to drop the security blanket of what I've always known and forge ahead into the uncharted territory of sharing Jesus with people in the here and now. I'll look to the example of those before me and their passionate risks. But I'll not miss the ride Jesus has planned for ME by being too lazy or chicken to get in the vehicle with Him.
Frankly, the idea that God Himself wants to give me personal direction and unique ideas for what He has called me to do is WAY TOO wonderful to pass up, even for the safety and comfort of never having to take a risk.
I'll treasure the opportunity I had today to live out my passion for women's ministry. But I'll also be pondering the serious questions of today for a while. I just can't think of passing up my own explosion and settling for the aftercloud of someone elses.
Daily bliss: Today was full of happiness, but there's nothing like coming home to the ones I love. So for today, my happiness is my sweet love and my two babies. I'm a blessed woman.
At the end of the day, there was a conference-wide worship service. The speaker, Dr. Bill Taylor, said and showed some things that have really got me pondering. He talked about some of the Southern Baptist leaders from 1950-1980 and their innovative ministry methods. What was groundbreaking innovation in their day has become "the way we do it" in this denomination. Dr. Taylor cited the example of the Sunday evening service, which was created during a time when many homes had no electricity, but often the church in town did have electricity. Some innovative leader saw that people wanted to come where there was electricity, so they began an evening service that resulted in many new believers. What was, in its day, a creative method for ministry has now become a sacred cow for many.
As he presented these thoughts, Dr. Taylor showed us a graph. The graph displayed Southern Baptist growth during the 1950's to 1980's, showing an explosive growth for that period. Of course, it also displayed the slight but steady decline that has occurred over the last couple of decades.
I couldn't help asking myself some sobering questions. I was reminded of a time when I was "coasting" on the wealth of knowledge my parents placed in me. Mom and Dad implanted in my brain a veritable textbook of Southern Baptist doctrine and scripture memory. I felt satisfied with this knowledge for a long time. After all, I could quote circles around most Christians I knew. I could go long periods of time without experiencing anything new from God and no one was the wiser because I talked the talk so well. I had a treasure of knowledge, and that was great, but it sure didn't take the place of real, life changing connection with God. Eventually, I couldn't coast any longer.
Is this where we are as a denomination? Have we been coasting on the surge of growth brought about through the inspiration God gave to the leaders of past decades?
Think about it. If I won the lottery, I'd quit working. The millions would give me a sense of safety, a feeling that I could finally afford to take a little time off. Has the explosive growth of last century given our denomination a "lotto" mentality? After all, we've become the largest and richest protestant denomination in America, so we can afford to coast a while on the hard won victories of our past leaders. But, can we really?
As Dr. Taylor referenced the ideas of leaders gone before, I don't believe he was recommending that we return to their specific programs. He was urging us to grasp for ourselves the passion and courage behind their ideas. They took the risk of trying new things like Sunday night services in their attempt to share the good news about the kingdom of heaven. Where did we get the idea that we could just steal their ideas and not do the work of innovation and creativity for ourselves? At what point did we become so comfortable with the windfall of growth that we no longer felt the need to keep up with the changing needs of people in our society?
I don't think they expected the next generation to ride their ministry coat tails. I think they expected us to find newer, more effective ways to minister to a new generation. And it's becoming evident that our "free ride" has a cost after all.
I don't like this idea of coasting. I want the adventure, the suspense, and the intense work that it will take to drop the security blanket of what I've always known and forge ahead into the uncharted territory of sharing Jesus with people in the here and now. I'll look to the example of those before me and their passionate risks. But I'll not miss the ride Jesus has planned for ME by being too lazy or chicken to get in the vehicle with Him.
Frankly, the idea that God Himself wants to give me personal direction and unique ideas for what He has called me to do is WAY TOO wonderful to pass up, even for the safety and comfort of never having to take a risk.
I'll treasure the opportunity I had today to live out my passion for women's ministry. But I'll also be pondering the serious questions of today for a while. I just can't think of passing up my own explosion and settling for the aftercloud of someone elses.
Daily bliss: Today was full of happiness, but there's nothing like coming home to the ones I love. So for today, my happiness is my sweet love and my two babies. I'm a blessed woman.
Delicious Debate
I've had the interesting privilege over the last couple of days to be in two separate meetings where there was.... how shall I put this?... Tense discussion. I've remembered something interesting about me. I love a good fight! Debate is one of the most pleasurable things in the world to me.
The exchange of words and ideas, the attempt to communicate clearly, the persuasive passion of some, and the shy nerves of others. It's all WONDERFUL to me. Defending an idea forces me to think that idea through carefully. Sometimes we don't always stop and examine our hearts until something such as a moment of tension brings feelings to light. Sometimes nothing solidifies a belief like hearing the opposing belief.
Know what else I've found interesting? It's REALLY hard for Christians to be OK with disagreeing. I've observed two Christian meetings where people really, really struggled to express opposing views appropriately, almost as if it's wrong to have differences of opinion. Why do we get our feathers ruffled so?
I don't know about that, but I'm SURE I enjoyed it all WAY too much. And since it's after midnight and I have a workshop to teach tomorrow, maybe I'll wait till later to ponder what this says about my mental health. It's cracking me up right now because I faced some excruciatingly tense moments this evening with pleasure, and then came home only to melt into a puddle of queasy panic. Why, you ask? Mackenzie was losing a tooth!! So much for a woman not fazed by heated debate when she's standing with her fingers in her ears trying REALLY hard to find the happy place in her mind to escape from the pulling of a loose tooth.
My happiness today: A man who can handle tooth issues that render me completely useless. AND Levi's pronunciation of "tapioca," a pudding to which he was introduced today: "Tacky-oh-coh" I'll eat tackyohcoh pudding with that kid any day.
The exchange of words and ideas, the attempt to communicate clearly, the persuasive passion of some, and the shy nerves of others. It's all WONDERFUL to me. Defending an idea forces me to think that idea through carefully. Sometimes we don't always stop and examine our hearts until something such as a moment of tension brings feelings to light. Sometimes nothing solidifies a belief like hearing the opposing belief.
Know what else I've found interesting? It's REALLY hard for Christians to be OK with disagreeing. I've observed two Christian meetings where people really, really struggled to express opposing views appropriately, almost as if it's wrong to have differences of opinion. Why do we get our feathers ruffled so?
I don't know about that, but I'm SURE I enjoyed it all WAY too much. And since it's after midnight and I have a workshop to teach tomorrow, maybe I'll wait till later to ponder what this says about my mental health. It's cracking me up right now because I faced some excruciatingly tense moments this evening with pleasure, and then came home only to melt into a puddle of queasy panic. Why, you ask? Mackenzie was losing a tooth!! So much for a woman not fazed by heated debate when she's standing with her fingers in her ears trying REALLY hard to find the happy place in her mind to escape from the pulling of a loose tooth.
My happiness today: A man who can handle tooth issues that render me completely useless. AND Levi's pronunciation of "tapioca," a pudding to which he was introduced today: "Tacky-oh-coh" I'll eat tackyohcoh pudding with that kid any day.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Homework at the Hughes'
Just thought I'd share one of my rare "Leave it to Beaver" moments with you. This afternoon, my kids worked on homework peacefully at the table while I supervised and assisted like a normal mommy would. They were too cute, so I have to share!
The picture of concentration! Cutting is serious business in K-4!
The picture of brilliance!
The picture of concentration! Cutting is serious business in K-4!
The picture of brilliance!
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Dizzy Days
Spent a lovely evening in the emergency room yesterday. I had some symptoms that were pretty scary, especially to someone who has suffered from blood clots. Turned out to be.... wait for it.... vertigo. Yup. Lots of drama for a little diagnosis, but I am SO thankful that it's something so simple, and not those nasty clots again.
Today I've been playing catch-up. After an action packed weekend that culminated in a visit to the hospital, I had extra laundry and dishes and general maintenance work to do around here. I also have a good bit of writing to do, which is the fun part. I spent the morning writing in my rocking chair. (Am I blessed or what?) There's still much more to do. I have a busy fall ahead of me, several speaking engagements to prepare for, plus the book's release. Tomorrow I think I'll be forced to lock the door and turn off all telephones in order to get some creative work done.
OH! You are also officially reading the blog of a corporate chaplain! I'll be doing a little chaplaincy work here and there for Marketplace Chaplains USA. After a surprisingly thorough investigation of me, they have declared me fit to be a chaplain. I'm looking forward to this opportunity to stay in touch with reality... to kind of get outside the church doors if ya know what I mean.
All in all, I missed my Monday. (It's my favorite day of the week.) Labor Day has officially become my least favorite holiday for cheating me out of a Monday.
For now, I'm a bit dizzy and a lot tired. I'm headed to my bed. Right after I tell you the happiest part of my day: Pumpkin Spice Latte' at Starbucks! OH! and my Love made the kids' lunches for tomorrow... and I didn't even ask him to. I love that guy!
Today I've been playing catch-up. After an action packed weekend that culminated in a visit to the hospital, I had extra laundry and dishes and general maintenance work to do around here. I also have a good bit of writing to do, which is the fun part. I spent the morning writing in my rocking chair. (Am I blessed or what?) There's still much more to do. I have a busy fall ahead of me, several speaking engagements to prepare for, plus the book's release. Tomorrow I think I'll be forced to lock the door and turn off all telephones in order to get some creative work done.
OH! You are also officially reading the blog of a corporate chaplain! I'll be doing a little chaplaincy work here and there for Marketplace Chaplains USA. After a surprisingly thorough investigation of me, they have declared me fit to be a chaplain. I'm looking forward to this opportunity to stay in touch with reality... to kind of get outside the church doors if ya know what I mean.
All in all, I missed my Monday. (It's my favorite day of the week.) Labor Day has officially become my least favorite holiday for cheating me out of a Monday.
For now, I'm a bit dizzy and a lot tired. I'm headed to my bed. Right after I tell you the happiest part of my day: Pumpkin Spice Latte' at Starbucks! OH! and my Love made the kids' lunches for tomorrow... and I didn't even ask him to. I love that guy!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Closure!
Yesterday, for the anniversary of Katrina, we had a little family ceremony. We were aiming to give some closure to our kids, and help them recognize how God has provided for us, but I gotta tell you, I didn't realize how good the closure would feel to me!
Anyway, we planted a hibiscus in our yard to help us remember the beauty that has come out of the sad days of Katrina, and how God took care of us. Here are some pics:
Daddy and his helpers.
The ceremonial squirt!
We MADE IT!!
Anyway, we planted a hibiscus in our yard to help us remember the beauty that has come out of the sad days of Katrina, and how God took care of us. Here are some pics:
Daddy and his helpers.
The ceremonial squirt!
We MADE IT!!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
HAPPY Anniversary
In the next world we may more perfectly
Love Him and serve Him, praise Him,
Grow nearer and nearer to Him with delight.
But then we will not anymore
Be called to suffer, which is our assignment here.
Can you not suffer, then, one hour or two?
If He should call you from your cross today,
Saying, "It is finished--that hard cross of yours
From which you pray for deliverance,"
Do you not think that some emotion of regret
Would overcome you? You would say,
"So soon? Let me go back and suffer yet awhile
More patiently. I have not yet praised God."
....let us take heed in life
That God may NOW be glorified in us. (Ugo Bassi's Sermon in a Hospital)
Today marks the two year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. This morning as I reflected with some area pastors on this day and what it means to us, my heart virtually screamed the above quoted poem. See, lately I've been doing quite a bit of asking for deliverance. Since Katrina's upheaval, my life has seemed like one upheaval after another. I'm tired. So is everyone around me.
Last night, my hair guy and I were talking about my book. He asked me "Do you listen to what you write?" Jimmy wanted to know if I practice what I preach, or if I take my own advice. So I asked the question of myself. I told Jimmy how I feel that everything that has happened since Katrina has worked together as a "test" of sorts for me. How can I write a book with a theme of hope and perseverance... and then NOT trust God to give me the strength to persevere myself? I don't want to be someone who preaches one thing, only to get in my car, drive away, and do another. So yes, I practice what I preach.
But in some ways, I have not yet praised God. To me, persevering through trial is one thing, but lifting praise to God in and FOR a trial is another thing entirely. In my mind, to look suffering in the face and THANK GOD for it is to have triumphed over that suffering. And so, if you'll allow me...
THANK YOU GOD, for Hurricane Katrina. Thank You for the uncertainty, the loss, the sadness. Thank You for forcing me to rely on You for hope. I praise You, God, for the turmoil it caused. I praise You for making me uncomfortable enough to seek comfort in You. ThankYou for personally being my comfort in all of this. While I'm at it, Lord, I would like to praise You for the embolisms I had. Thanks for the pain and the frightening diagnosis. Thanks for showing me that death is nothing to You, therefore it is nothing to me. Thank you for sending my husband to the hospital. Thank you for being there when I thought I might lose him. Thank You for the people whose hands you used to help hold me up that night. I praise You, God, for the exhaustion, the depression, and the discouragement that the last months have held for me and Matthew. I praise You for being Reason enough to go on even when we didn't feel like it. The bottom line, Jesus, is that You have and do use suffering to connect with me and to help me connect with You... and connection with You makes life worth living, so I praise You for it ALL. You, my Jesus, are worth every mile, every tear, every shaky, exhausted step. Lord, don't let me waste time. I'm not waiting till you call and end to suffering before I praise You. So, please, be glorified in THIS life, with all its imperfections and in the midst of all its sufferings. Amen
Love Him and serve Him, praise Him,
Grow nearer and nearer to Him with delight.
But then we will not anymore
Be called to suffer, which is our assignment here.
Can you not suffer, then, one hour or two?
If He should call you from your cross today,
Saying, "It is finished--that hard cross of yours
From which you pray for deliverance,"
Do you not think that some emotion of regret
Would overcome you? You would say,
"So soon? Let me go back and suffer yet awhile
More patiently. I have not yet praised God."
....let us take heed in life
That God may NOW be glorified in us. (Ugo Bassi's Sermon in a Hospital)
Today marks the two year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. This morning as I reflected with some area pastors on this day and what it means to us, my heart virtually screamed the above quoted poem. See, lately I've been doing quite a bit of asking for deliverance. Since Katrina's upheaval, my life has seemed like one upheaval after another. I'm tired. So is everyone around me.
Last night, my hair guy and I were talking about my book. He asked me "Do you listen to what you write?" Jimmy wanted to know if I practice what I preach, or if I take my own advice. So I asked the question of myself. I told Jimmy how I feel that everything that has happened since Katrina has worked together as a "test" of sorts for me. How can I write a book with a theme of hope and perseverance... and then NOT trust God to give me the strength to persevere myself? I don't want to be someone who preaches one thing, only to get in my car, drive away, and do another. So yes, I practice what I preach.
But in some ways, I have not yet praised God. To me, persevering through trial is one thing, but lifting praise to God in and FOR a trial is another thing entirely. In my mind, to look suffering in the face and THANK GOD for it is to have triumphed over that suffering. And so, if you'll allow me...
THANK YOU GOD, for Hurricane Katrina. Thank You for the uncertainty, the loss, the sadness. Thank You for forcing me to rely on You for hope. I praise You, God, for the turmoil it caused. I praise You for making me uncomfortable enough to seek comfort in You. ThankYou for personally being my comfort in all of this. While I'm at it, Lord, I would like to praise You for the embolisms I had. Thanks for the pain and the frightening diagnosis. Thanks for showing me that death is nothing to You, therefore it is nothing to me. Thank you for sending my husband to the hospital. Thank you for being there when I thought I might lose him. Thank You for the people whose hands you used to help hold me up that night. I praise You, God, for the exhaustion, the depression, and the discouragement that the last months have held for me and Matthew. I praise You for being Reason enough to go on even when we didn't feel like it. The bottom line, Jesus, is that You have and do use suffering to connect with me and to help me connect with You... and connection with You makes life worth living, so I praise You for it ALL. You, my Jesus, are worth every mile, every tear, every shaky, exhausted step. Lord, don't let me waste time. I'm not waiting till you call and end to suffering before I praise You. So, please, be glorified in THIS life, with all its imperfections and in the midst of all its sufferings. Amen
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The Wierd One
I got a new haircolor today. It's a mysterious blackish-reddish-purplish color. (Pictures as soon as I get a good one.) I always love haircut day. Since Katrina, my hair guy doesn't have a shop anymore, so he comes to my house to do the job. It's grown into a pretty fun gathering, with who knows who popping in to sit in the makeshift salon that is my kitchen.
Today, Starbucks got thrown into the mix. What else is a girl to do while she waits for her hair color to work than walk over to Starbucks, stand in line (purplish hair color gunk and all), and order a round of treats for everyone. Here's the funniest part: There were people who actually said words to me and carried on conversation with me, all the while acting like I didn't have purplish goopy funky hair sticking up all over my head, and there was no pungent, nasty smell of hair color in a cloud around me.
Oh sure, there were wierd looks too, AND people there I knew, but I expected that. All in all, it was a pleasant trip. I even met a new friend who shares my name that I'll hopefully get to see again.
It's interesting what you can do if you're the one wierd or gutsy enough to do it. Not that going out in public while your hair color processes is anything noble. My point is that no one ridiculed me. I know for a fact I stunk and no one crossed to the other side of the room. It was that "twilight zone" type moment when no one really realized what was going on and by the time they did, I was gone and it was over.
So what if this applied to living for Christ? Do I have the guts to be the wierd one for Jesus? Can I live my life in such abandon to Him that no one really knows what to make of it? I WANT TO!!! And really, who could stop me?
Today, Starbucks got thrown into the mix. What else is a girl to do while she waits for her hair color to work than walk over to Starbucks, stand in line (purplish hair color gunk and all), and order a round of treats for everyone. Here's the funniest part: There were people who actually said words to me and carried on conversation with me, all the while acting like I didn't have purplish goopy funky hair sticking up all over my head, and there was no pungent, nasty smell of hair color in a cloud around me.
Oh sure, there were wierd looks too, AND people there I knew, but I expected that. All in all, it was a pleasant trip. I even met a new friend who shares my name that I'll hopefully get to see again.
It's interesting what you can do if you're the one wierd or gutsy enough to do it. Not that going out in public while your hair color processes is anything noble. My point is that no one ridiculed me. I know for a fact I stunk and no one crossed to the other side of the room. It was that "twilight zone" type moment when no one really realized what was going on and by the time they did, I was gone and it was over.
So what if this applied to living for Christ? Do I have the guts to be the wierd one for Jesus? Can I live my life in such abandon to Him that no one really knows what to make of it? I WANT TO!!! And really, who could stop me?
Monday, August 27, 2007
Stage Whispers
My son, ever the performer, can't seem to tone down his four year old voice. Yesterday he was in the living room with his sister, and down the hall I heard this stage whisper: "Quick! Mom and Dad are coming! We aren't supposed to be on the table! They are goin to see us!"
My quiet little girl knows the value of don't ask don't tell. Not Levi. He's got the gift of gab. And for now, it works for me!!!
My quiet little girl knows the value of don't ask don't tell. Not Levi. He's got the gift of gab. And for now, it works for me!!!
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Old song, New thoughts
This old Rich Mullins song implanted itself in my brain over a decade ago. I liked the tune and the catchy phrasing. For some reason lately, it's been floating to the top of my ocean of thoughts and I've been really pondering its lyrics...
"Now the plummer's got a drip in his spigot
The mechanic's got a clank in his car
And the preacher's thinking thoughts that are wicked
And the lover's got a lonely heart
My friends ain't the way I wish they were
They are just the way they are
And I will be my brother's keeper
Not the one who judges him
I won't despise him for his weakness
I won't regard him for his strength
I won't take away his freedom
I will help him learn to stand
And I will ~ I will be my brother's keeper
Now this roof has got a few missing shingles
But at least we got ourselves a roof
And they say that she's a fallen angel
I wonder if she recalls when she last flew
There's no point in pointing fingers
Unless you're pointing to the truth
And I will be my brother's keeper
Not the one who judges him
I won't despise him for his weakness
I won't regard him for his strength
I won't take away his freedom
I will help him learn to stand
And I will ~ I will be my brother's keeper
What's so wrong with being my brother's keeper? Even Cain railed at the idea. I think the songwriter hit on two main issues: I won't despise him for his weakness. I won't regard him for his strength. The way it's going around in my mind, losing patience with the weakness of another, or on the other hand, building too much regard for the strength of another leads to resentment. It takes a certain strength to care for another who is weaker, and even more strength, I say, to care for another who is stronger.
The song issues a challenge indeed. Can I be my brother's keeper? Can I as a believer extend love to those around me without judgement, whether they are weaker than I, or whether they possess strengths I envy?
Wouldn't it be nice to be "kept" that way? Surrounded by others who understand "my friends ain't the way I wish they were. They are just the way they are." Don't you think at the root of many relational problems is the attempt, whether conscious or unconscious, to make someone else into "the way I wish they were" instead of accepting that "they are just the way they are?" Isn't it even more interesting that a brother's keeper doesn't do the job of molding someone into something else? The idea of being a keeper or caretaker almost automatically conjurs up feelings of responsibility or authority, but hardly ever feelings of acceptance or servanthood. But to truly be my brother's keeper, I have to stop trying to make those around me be something I wish they were, and begin helping them stand in who they are.
Problem is.... it's so much easier just to tell them what they ought to be, isn't it? Or to sit in judgement? Or even to remove their freedom so they can't be what I wish they weren't? The harder thing, definitely, is to accept another whether they please me or not. To love them whether or not it is convenient to do so. To stand with them even when they embarass me.
Jesus is our Keeper that way, you know. He's stood by me through it all. May He do the same through me for those He's given me to keep.
"Now the plummer's got a drip in his spigot
The mechanic's got a clank in his car
And the preacher's thinking thoughts that are wicked
And the lover's got a lonely heart
My friends ain't the way I wish they were
They are just the way they are
And I will be my brother's keeper
Not the one who judges him
I won't despise him for his weakness
I won't regard him for his strength
I won't take away his freedom
I will help him learn to stand
And I will ~ I will be my brother's keeper
Now this roof has got a few missing shingles
But at least we got ourselves a roof
And they say that she's a fallen angel
I wonder if she recalls when she last flew
There's no point in pointing fingers
Unless you're pointing to the truth
And I will be my brother's keeper
Not the one who judges him
I won't despise him for his weakness
I won't regard him for his strength
I won't take away his freedom
I will help him learn to stand
And I will ~ I will be my brother's keeper
What's so wrong with being my brother's keeper? Even Cain railed at the idea. I think the songwriter hit on two main issues: I won't despise him for his weakness. I won't regard him for his strength. The way it's going around in my mind, losing patience with the weakness of another, or on the other hand, building too much regard for the strength of another leads to resentment. It takes a certain strength to care for another who is weaker, and even more strength, I say, to care for another who is stronger.
The song issues a challenge indeed. Can I be my brother's keeper? Can I as a believer extend love to those around me without judgement, whether they are weaker than I, or whether they possess strengths I envy?
Wouldn't it be nice to be "kept" that way? Surrounded by others who understand "my friends ain't the way I wish they were. They are just the way they are." Don't you think at the root of many relational problems is the attempt, whether conscious or unconscious, to make someone else into "the way I wish they were" instead of accepting that "they are just the way they are?" Isn't it even more interesting that a brother's keeper doesn't do the job of molding someone into something else? The idea of being a keeper or caretaker almost automatically conjurs up feelings of responsibility or authority, but hardly ever feelings of acceptance or servanthood. But to truly be my brother's keeper, I have to stop trying to make those around me be something I wish they were, and begin helping them stand in who they are.
Problem is.... it's so much easier just to tell them what they ought to be, isn't it? Or to sit in judgement? Or even to remove their freedom so they can't be what I wish they weren't? The harder thing, definitely, is to accept another whether they please me or not. To love them whether or not it is convenient to do so. To stand with them even when they embarass me.
Jesus is our Keeper that way, you know. He's stood by me through it all. May He do the same through me for those He's given me to keep.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Yes, Ma'am.
I almost just posted a comment to you, Beck, but I thought I'd put it out here instead. Because it's long.
You are so right about the fact that being a brave woman doesn't mean you are not afraid. It means that you choose to continue moving in the face of your fears - in defiance of them.
Our church is studying "Mere Christianity" right now (C.S. Lewis), and you reminded me of something I read there this morning. It's a little bit out of context, as he is talking mainly about repentance here, but I think it still applies (as most truth has application in so many places). So, here is a quote, because he said it better than I could:
"Can we do it if God helps us? Yes, but what do we mean when we talk of God helping us? We mean God putting into us a bit of Himself, so to speak. He lends us a little of His reasoning powers and that is how we think: He puts a little of His love into us and that is how we love one another. When you teach a child writing, you hold its hand while it forms the letters: that is, it forms the letters because you are forming them. We love and reason because God loves and reasons and holds our hand while we do it."
I think that this is what Scripture means when it says that we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. You are brave and strong - one of the strongest women I know, my Becky. But it isn't really you at all. It's the bit of Himself that Christ has placed in you that continues to give you strength. He has given this gift of himself to you because you chose to ask for it.
Because, really, with all that you have faced this year, the fact that you continue to get out of bed every morning defies reason.
And doesn't it take a little bit of the pressure off - doesn't it help us to be okay with fear - to live with its presence - if we know that it isn't up to us to conquer it? So, to paraphrase Lewis: We live our lives in the presence of fear because God moves and lives fearlessly in us.
Hope that makes sense :)
<3 Christy
You are so right about the fact that being a brave woman doesn't mean you are not afraid. It means that you choose to continue moving in the face of your fears - in defiance of them.
Our church is studying "Mere Christianity" right now (C.S. Lewis), and you reminded me of something I read there this morning. It's a little bit out of context, as he is talking mainly about repentance here, but I think it still applies (as most truth has application in so many places). So, here is a quote, because he said it better than I could:
"Can we do it if God helps us? Yes, but what do we mean when we talk of God helping us? We mean God putting into us a bit of Himself, so to speak. He lends us a little of His reasoning powers and that is how we think: He puts a little of His love into us and that is how we love one another. When you teach a child writing, you hold its hand while it forms the letters: that is, it forms the letters because you are forming them. We love and reason because God loves and reasons and holds our hand while we do it."
I think that this is what Scripture means when it says that we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. You are brave and strong - one of the strongest women I know, my Becky. But it isn't really you at all. It's the bit of Himself that Christ has placed in you that continues to give you strength. He has given this gift of himself to you because you chose to ask for it.
Because, really, with all that you have faced this year, the fact that you continue to get out of bed every morning defies reason.
And doesn't it take a little bit of the pressure off - doesn't it help us to be okay with fear - to live with its presence - if we know that it isn't up to us to conquer it? So, to paraphrase Lewis: We live our lives in the presence of fear because God moves and lives fearlessly in us.
Hope that makes sense :)
<3 Christy
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Facing Fears
Ok, I think I'm down to the real reason I've been in such a dither lately.
It's hard to admit this....
I'm scared.
I started this year at the tail end of Katrina's aftermath. Having just breathed a sigh of relief and declared myself over Katrina, I found myself in the hospital wondering what my husband and my babies would do without me. Then, in a few months I found myself in the ER wondering what I and my babies would do without him. Then, I wondered what we would all do without a job. Now I'm wondering what I'll do WITH one as my book's release gets closer.
Matthew has some type of stomach plague and has kept it for over a week. With his every sigh the knot in my own stomach tightens up. I have this icky, heavy feeling that I should be bracing myself for something terrible. I've actually carried this feeling around since oh... May or so. I'm sick of it.
My wise counselor friend calls this hypervigilance. She says it's normal in the aftermath of trauma, and we have had several events in succession that qualify as trauma. She says it'll pass. I hope she's right.
What I know is what I said above. It's fear. I'm scared. I absolutely loathe admitting this.
I ask myself, how can a woman committed to living her life on the edge, a woman who is completely confident in God's providence, be afraid? Shouldn't I be conquering this fear and marching in a victory parade by now?
Herein lies my problem: I've let myself think that a radically lived life of abandon would be lived without fear. Nope. It's just lived IN SPITE OF fear. It's not that a woman on the edge isn't scared. She could be shakin in her boots! She just doesn't let that stop her from staying right out on the edge.
I forgot that for a while there. I let myself stuff back the fear because I hate to admit the weakness it exposes. I ignored it in the hopes that it would go away since I don't have time to be afraid. Only it didn't go away, it only masked itself in frustration and stress.
So here it is for the world to see: I'm afraid. I'm afraid that my husband won't get better. I'm afraid I can't handle everything alone. I'm afraid the next storm could be a repeat of Katrina. I'm afraid my book will be a flop. I'm afraid I am not a good mother to my kids. I'm afraid I'll never make it as a speaker. I'm afraid my church will reject me and my husband. I'm afraid there might not really be anyone I can trust.
It's time to quit pretending that the fear isn't there. It's time to look it in the face and, knowing what I know about God, releasing my life into His hands, I keep living. I will walk right past the fear and let it watch me love the man, weather the storm, write the book, kiss my kids, speak my heart, pour myself out over this church, and trust the only One who I could ever trust in the first place.
I guess what I'm realizing is that the edge isn't all about not being afraid. It's about DEFYING fear. And so defy, I will. Are ya with me?
It's hard to admit this....
I'm scared.
I started this year at the tail end of Katrina's aftermath. Having just breathed a sigh of relief and declared myself over Katrina, I found myself in the hospital wondering what my husband and my babies would do without me. Then, in a few months I found myself in the ER wondering what I and my babies would do without him. Then, I wondered what we would all do without a job. Now I'm wondering what I'll do WITH one as my book's release gets closer.
Matthew has some type of stomach plague and has kept it for over a week. With his every sigh the knot in my own stomach tightens up. I have this icky, heavy feeling that I should be bracing myself for something terrible. I've actually carried this feeling around since oh... May or so. I'm sick of it.
My wise counselor friend calls this hypervigilance. She says it's normal in the aftermath of trauma, and we have had several events in succession that qualify as trauma. She says it'll pass. I hope she's right.
What I know is what I said above. It's fear. I'm scared. I absolutely loathe admitting this.
I ask myself, how can a woman committed to living her life on the edge, a woman who is completely confident in God's providence, be afraid? Shouldn't I be conquering this fear and marching in a victory parade by now?
Herein lies my problem: I've let myself think that a radically lived life of abandon would be lived without fear. Nope. It's just lived IN SPITE OF fear. It's not that a woman on the edge isn't scared. She could be shakin in her boots! She just doesn't let that stop her from staying right out on the edge.
I forgot that for a while there. I let myself stuff back the fear because I hate to admit the weakness it exposes. I ignored it in the hopes that it would go away since I don't have time to be afraid. Only it didn't go away, it only masked itself in frustration and stress.
So here it is for the world to see: I'm afraid. I'm afraid that my husband won't get better. I'm afraid I can't handle everything alone. I'm afraid the next storm could be a repeat of Katrina. I'm afraid my book will be a flop. I'm afraid I am not a good mother to my kids. I'm afraid I'll never make it as a speaker. I'm afraid my church will reject me and my husband. I'm afraid there might not really be anyone I can trust.
It's time to quit pretending that the fear isn't there. It's time to look it in the face and, knowing what I know about God, releasing my life into His hands, I keep living. I will walk right past the fear and let it watch me love the man, weather the storm, write the book, kiss my kids, speak my heart, pour myself out over this church, and trust the only One who I could ever trust in the first place.
I guess what I'm realizing is that the edge isn't all about not being afraid. It's about DEFYING fear. And so defy, I will. Are ya with me?
Friday, August 17, 2007
Better...
Too tired for the full story, but a good, hard cry (minus the kicking and screaming, I'm happy to say) dulled my sharp edges a bit. It had been coming for a while, but when the tear flood finally swept in, I felt tons better. I have much to reflect on here, but for now I'm going to sleep. Matthew is a bit better tonight, much to my relief.
My smile? This conversation:
Levi: "There was a girl at school today who was my friend. She loveded me."
Me: "Oh yeah? How do you know she loved you?"
Levi: "Because she TOLD me it. She said she loveded me! And she played Ninja Turtles with me, except she was a Ninja Turtle Barbie."
OH yeah, girlfriend! Every Ninja Turtle needs a little Barbie.
My smile? This conversation:
Levi: "There was a girl at school today who was my friend. She loveded me."
Me: "Oh yeah? How do you know she loved you?"
Levi: "Because she TOLD me it. She said she loveded me! And she played Ninja Turtles with me, except she was a Ninja Turtle Barbie."
OH yeah, girlfriend! Every Ninja Turtle needs a little Barbie.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Sick and Tired
He's sick. I'm tired. My efforts to save the world aren't going as planned. An all out temper tantrum would have ensued as a result of this feeling in my younger years. Ya think anybody would call the cops if I just threw myself down on the ground and had a good screamin', kickin', cryin' fit? Is this all I really am inside? A spoiled toddler who can't deal with a few bumps in the road? A malfunctioning machine that self destructs when overburdened?
It's raw tonight, friends. The sharp edge, I suppose.
It's raw tonight, friends. The sharp edge, I suppose.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Rockin'
I'm writing from my rocking chair! It fits just perfectly in my room now. (see previous post) I love this chair. Matthew bought it for me when I was pregnant with Mackenzie. I've rocked and nursed babies in this chair for hours on end. I've read books in this chair, cried tears in this chair, and consoled myself with some serious rocking.
It's first home was our trailer in Graceville. That's where we spent the first six months of Mackenzie's life. This chair was where I learned to breastfeed and where I got through post partum depression. I can still smell the sweet smell of baby, and feel her sleeping all warm and curled up in a tiny ball on my chest.
Next, it moved to the Gapway house. There, it lived in Mackenzie's bedroom. It was a Paddington Bear nursery, and this chair sat by her bed and rocked her every night until after she weaned at two years old. We rocked through my dad's heart surgery and through spending our days caring for him. We rocked through three years on staff at a church with no pastor.
Next, it moved to the Galloway Road rental house. It waited patiently while we built our house. It also sat still, unused during a horrible time in our marriage when I could barely think or move. I now wish I had written during that time, but sadly I lost almost a year of life in a frozen emotional arctic. Not even my chair helped then.
It came out of retirement when it moved into our new house in Tropical Manor. It was placed directly into the baby nursery where it readily accepted the warmth of a new baby boy. I accepted that warmth too. It brought the end of a painful pregnancy and the thaw of that emotional ice age. There it rocked my Levi by his bed. I would nurse him and sing to him about trusting Jesus. Some nights I would rock both my babies. Five year old Mackenzie sitting on one side with her head nestled under my neck, and tiny little Levi in the crook of my other arm.
Then, it moved to seminary. It had to take a more prominent place as living room furniture then. But I held onto it. After a while, our seminary apartment was just too cramped and it moved to Matthew's office.
Our post-Katrina apartment had no room for it, so it stayed in Matthew's office. I visited whenever I could and still stole a few minutes here and there to sit with one of my babies or just by myself.
Now, it has moved again but this time it's all mine! The rocker is by my bed in my room in a perfect location for reading, praying, thinking, blogging, or whatever I happen to be doing. I actually came in here frustrated, intending to write a scathing blog about something else entirely, but the smooth, happy rocking motion got my attention instead.
If I've learned anything over the last few years, its that stuff doesn't matter and I really think I have a healthy attitude toward stuff. And if I had to, I suppose I'd let go of my rocker. But I really, really don't wanna. I love this chair. I love how it makes me feel. I love the memories it holds and the secrets it keeps. Every girl should have a chair like this.
It's first home was our trailer in Graceville. That's where we spent the first six months of Mackenzie's life. This chair was where I learned to breastfeed and where I got through post partum depression. I can still smell the sweet smell of baby, and feel her sleeping all warm and curled up in a tiny ball on my chest.
Next, it moved to the Gapway house. There, it lived in Mackenzie's bedroom. It was a Paddington Bear nursery, and this chair sat by her bed and rocked her every night until after she weaned at two years old. We rocked through my dad's heart surgery and through spending our days caring for him. We rocked through three years on staff at a church with no pastor.
Next, it moved to the Galloway Road rental house. It waited patiently while we built our house. It also sat still, unused during a horrible time in our marriage when I could barely think or move. I now wish I had written during that time, but sadly I lost almost a year of life in a frozen emotional arctic. Not even my chair helped then.
It came out of retirement when it moved into our new house in Tropical Manor. It was placed directly into the baby nursery where it readily accepted the warmth of a new baby boy. I accepted that warmth too. It brought the end of a painful pregnancy and the thaw of that emotional ice age. There it rocked my Levi by his bed. I would nurse him and sing to him about trusting Jesus. Some nights I would rock both my babies. Five year old Mackenzie sitting on one side with her head nestled under my neck, and tiny little Levi in the crook of my other arm.
Then, it moved to seminary. It had to take a more prominent place as living room furniture then. But I held onto it. After a while, our seminary apartment was just too cramped and it moved to Matthew's office.
Our post-Katrina apartment had no room for it, so it stayed in Matthew's office. I visited whenever I could and still stole a few minutes here and there to sit with one of my babies or just by myself.
Now, it has moved again but this time it's all mine! The rocker is by my bed in my room in a perfect location for reading, praying, thinking, blogging, or whatever I happen to be doing. I actually came in here frustrated, intending to write a scathing blog about something else entirely, but the smooth, happy rocking motion got my attention instead.
If I've learned anything over the last few years, its that stuff doesn't matter and I really think I have a healthy attitude toward stuff. And if I had to, I suppose I'd let go of my rocker. But I really, really don't wanna. I love this chair. I love how it makes me feel. I love the memories it holds and the secrets it keeps. Every girl should have a chair like this.
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