As I drove to my church's Good Friday service I uttered a prayer that included some words like, "Let me see what You want me to see." To be honest, I'm not sure exactly what I prayed because it was just an earnest prayer to begin preparing my heart for whatever the night held. As an employee of my church, I had helped with many parts of our Easter events, but Good Friday is an evening that our pastor holds dear to his heart. For several years we've had the tradition of a short worship service and then a modernized stations of the cross experience. While I knew about certain elements - cotton balls, grape juice, and club soda - because I had bought them, I knew little more about the evening.
I've always struggled with prayer. I believe in prayer because the Bible tells me to, and I believe in prayer because I've heard from trustworthy friends about the miracles they have seen, but if we are being honest I've had a hard time finding moments that I could say were direct answers to prayer. Of course there have been some, but it's hard to hold onto "some" over decades of faith. I don't blame God or the power of prayer for the "some"; I recognize it largely a result of my lack of commitment to prayer. And so like many times, I found myself throwing out a prayer as I drove to church because I realized I was entering a truly holy time of the year without much prayer. God, forgive me.
The Anointing
In Matthew 26:6-13 Jesus is anointed while at the home of Simon the Leper. Side note: I've recently enjoyed thinking about how people are identified in the Gospels. Was Simon the Leper still living with leprosy, or had Jesus healed him of the disease? It seems like a simple answer at first, of course Jesus had probably healed him, but if that is the case, why is he not referred to as the one healed of leprosy? It'd be like a biblical artist formerly known as Prince. Another fun one to think about is The Other Mary of Matthew 27:61. Really? The only way to distinguish her was as "the other"? I digress.
Simon the Leper had Jesus over for dinner when a woman pours expensive perfume from an alabaster jar on Jesus' head. In my church's tradition we talk a lot about this woman. Twice a year we collect an "alabaster offering" that goes directly to the mission field to help acquire property and construct buildings. I do love it, but until last night I'd never seen it happen. As the last details of service were coming together I watched a friend pour small amounts of good smelling oil onto cotton balls. Unfortunately, a few cotton balls in she ran out of the lavender scented oil she had and switched to the frankincense oil instead. I don't know for sure that the woman in the Bible poured frankincense on Jesus' head, but I do know it is a perfume and the oil my friend used costs $90 for one tablespoon. Yes, you read that right: $90 for one tablespoon. Without even knowing it, my friend had poured out her alabaster jar.
The Crowd
One subtle element of the crucifixion story that you may have missed is the crowd. In most church plays the crowd is there to yell "crucify Him" and there was even an armed crowd when Judas initially betrayed Jesus, but they do little more than that. At Passover Jerusalem would have been filled with Jews who traveled into the city to celebrate the holiday. How many were there: One thousand? Ten thousand? One hundred thousand? A million? The crowd that could have come out to watch the crucifixion events unfold are staggering. And the more that were there for crucifixion, the more that would be saying to their friends on Sunday morning, "Hey, you remember that guy we watch be crucified? Something happened." Well we certainly didn't have a million people at our Good Friday service. We didn't even have one thousand. We had 41. And I know that because earlier in the day my pastor and I had a conversation about how many papers to prepare for one of the stations. Is 40 enough, I asked. I'd love to have 40, he said. Sure enough, God did His thing. He sent 41 people out to our little church on Friday night as a way of reminding us that He can do so much more than we imagine.
The Scattering and the Gathering
When I think about Good Friday, I often think of that lone disciple mentioned in the gospel of John (the beloved disciple, traditionally John). We know what became of Judas (eek) and also Peter (sigh), and I envision the other nine running home to pack bags and get out of town. It's possible that they were part of the crowds that watched from a distance, but they certainly are not identified.
Who is identified are two new characters, the secret disciples, Joseph and Nicodemus. In John 19 we read that Joseph had been a secret disciple out of fear of the Jewish leaders. If you've ever been to Sunday School you remember that Nicodemus had visited Jesus at night (and if you're a little rusty on your Bible quizzing facts you can read that account in John 3).
There comes a moment in each of our lives that we have to stop living in the shadows. We can no longer let fear rule us, and we must decide to do what is right. For these two men, their decision to put their faith into action at that moment secured them an amazing part of the greatest come back story ever. I can't help but wonder what might be waiting for me if I were to do the same.
Saturday, April 20, 2019
Sunday, April 14, 2019
Peace & The Garden
Sunday mornings are not necessarily a peaceful time in my house. When I started watching The Walking Dead with my husband a few years ago, there was a tender moment between the main character, Rick, and his son Carl. In talking about their pre-apocalypse life, Rick remembers that his wife Lori, Carl's mom, always made pancakes on Sunday mornings. These pancakes were notoriously awful, but she continued to make them because that was the kind of family she wanted to be. The scene is endearing, but I remember thinking "Who has time to make pancakes on Sunday morning?"
I certainly don't. On Sundays I find myself praying the coffee is strong and hot. I attempt to gulp it down before I walk out the door so I can brush my teeth as to not offend anyone at church with coffee breath. Almost every week either my oldest son or I are checking if we have the appropriate laptop, his for announcements and music slides or mine to teach children's church. There is usually an odd item or two that needs to be taken to church. Today it is supplies for the Easter, clean nursery sheets, and materials for children's church. Then you add in all the chaos of "did you eat?" and "did you shower?" and "are you wearing that?" and Sundays take on a life of their own.
I sat down this morning at my dining room table with coffee in a Superman mug - my Batman mug is dirty - and looked outside at my garden. I use the word "garden" loosely. There are definitely things growing in my backyard, but they don't have the intentionality or, if I'm painfully honest, success that a garden should have. And yet there is something about calling it a garden that I enjoy. It tells the story of what I want my backyard to be. I want it to be a place where we grow food, have more grass than weeds, certainly no weeds that reach up to my knees, and no pile of dead greenery that I cut a week ago. No cracked concrete. No gopher holes, though these have been entertaining for my husband and sons and dog.
This morning I sat down at my dining room table and saw past all that. I saw what could be there: thick grass, neat edges, persimmons by the bunch, a clean patio with a table we could gather around, and maybe even a barbeque and some string lights.
I hope that when God looks at me He sees a garden. I hope he sees past my weeds and shortcomings, and instead sees my potential. I hope He sees the gallons of sweet lemonade I'm capable of supplying instead of the bitter fruit that is ripe for picking.
I certainly don't. On Sundays I find myself praying the coffee is strong and hot. I attempt to gulp it down before I walk out the door so I can brush my teeth as to not offend anyone at church with coffee breath. Almost every week either my oldest son or I are checking if we have the appropriate laptop, his for announcements and music slides or mine to teach children's church. There is usually an odd item or two that needs to be taken to church. Today it is supplies for the Easter, clean nursery sheets, and materials for children's church. Then you add in all the chaos of "did you eat?" and "did you shower?" and "are you wearing that?" and Sundays take on a life of their own.
I sat down this morning at my dining room table with coffee in a Superman mug - my Batman mug is dirty - and looked outside at my garden. I use the word "garden" loosely. There are definitely things growing in my backyard, but they don't have the intentionality or, if I'm painfully honest, success that a garden should have. And yet there is something about calling it a garden that I enjoy. It tells the story of what I want my backyard to be. I want it to be a place where we grow food, have more grass than weeds, certainly no weeds that reach up to my knees, and no pile of dead greenery that I cut a week ago. No cracked concrete. No gopher holes, though these have been entertaining for my husband and sons and dog.
This morning I sat down at my dining room table and saw past all that. I saw what could be there: thick grass, neat edges, persimmons by the bunch, a clean patio with a table we could gather around, and maybe even a barbeque and some string lights.
I hope that when God looks at me He sees a garden. I hope he sees past my weeds and shortcomings, and instead sees my potential. I hope He sees the gallons of sweet lemonade I'm capable of supplying instead of the bitter fruit that is ripe for picking.
Saturday, October 6, 2018
No worries.
I told a lie today.
No worries.
It wasn’t malicious. In fact, it was spoken to preserve the emotions of the person to whom I was speaking. It would not have been fair to dump out the spiritual baggage I was carrying on her via text. So instead, no worries.
But there were worries. It began earlier this week when I read an article about a gay catholic believer and his struggle with celibacy and the church. From the way he wrote I had little doubt that he loved God deeply, but his struggle was with the church. His church had expectations. His church didn’t help him. His church. His church. His church. And as fascinated as I was by the article, I wanted to know what about his God?
No worries.
Then there was the friend who publicly bashed white evangelicals on social media for their lack of service to the least of these. Ironic, because I thought he too was a white evangelical. And as my husband and I discussed the article, we wondered if we had ever seen him do the things he was accusing white evangelicals of not doing.
But, no worries.
Then there was the book I had just finished reading. Anything. By Jennie Allen. It’s about her journey with God after she and her husband tell God they will do anything He wants. Not rocket science, but touching.
So no worries became my mask today. My duct tape, if you will, holding back all my frustration. Somewhere inside, and probably not that deep inside, I was worried. I am worried. Am I more wrapped up in my church than my God? Am I one of those white evangelicals my friend talked about? Am I pretending anything more than praying anything?
God, only You know. Help me to serve You before your church. Help me to love You by loving the lost. Let me do nothing out of pride or selfish ambition, but all to glorify You. Amen.
No worries.
It wasn’t malicious. In fact, it was spoken to preserve the emotions of the person to whom I was speaking. It would not have been fair to dump out the spiritual baggage I was carrying on her via text. So instead, no worries.
But there were worries. It began earlier this week when I read an article about a gay catholic believer and his struggle with celibacy and the church. From the way he wrote I had little doubt that he loved God deeply, but his struggle was with the church. His church had expectations. His church didn’t help him. His church. His church. His church. And as fascinated as I was by the article, I wanted to know what about his God?
No worries.
Then there was the friend who publicly bashed white evangelicals on social media for their lack of service to the least of these. Ironic, because I thought he too was a white evangelical. And as my husband and I discussed the article, we wondered if we had ever seen him do the things he was accusing white evangelicals of not doing.
But, no worries.
Then there was the book I had just finished reading. Anything. By Jennie Allen. It’s about her journey with God after she and her husband tell God they will do anything He wants. Not rocket science, but touching.
So no worries became my mask today. My duct tape, if you will, holding back all my frustration. Somewhere inside, and probably not that deep inside, I was worried. I am worried. Am I more wrapped up in my church than my God? Am I one of those white evangelicals my friend talked about? Am I pretending anything more than praying anything?
God, only You know. Help me to serve You before your church. Help me to love You by loving the lost. Let me do nothing out of pride or selfish ambition, but all to glorify You. Amen.
Sunday, September 23, 2018
When God Calls Your Bluff
People are often fascinated by the fact that I don’t drink alcohol. Never have. Not a sip. The short story goes: In 8th grade I made a deal with God that if He’d help me with something I would never drink alcohol. He did His part; so by His strength I’m doing mine. There have been challenging moments, but it was never that difficult for me because it seemed like such a big promise to break.
But what about smaller promises?
Over the last few weeks I’ve had the feeling that I should start blogging again. I’m not sure if it’s the result of a book I recently read or a result of my reduced time on social media, but I’ve had more and more thoughts pop in my head that I feel God wants me to work through. Last night, that very thing happened. I was already in bed. I was comfy. And Harry Potter was just about to learn vital information to help him fight you-know-who. (Just keeping it real, folks!) Write something now? I’ll take care of that tomorrow, I told myself.
Fast forward to right now, literally right now. Well, ok, at this point probably 15 minutes ago. I am sitting at my dining room table having just finished lunch, still sipping my coffee, when I realized that I have forgotten what it was I was going to write about. Having had an amazing morning at church I do all I know to do, and I offer up a short prayer: Lord, if you help me remember I will write about it.
I pick up the book I’ve been reading (Jesus of Suburbia, by Mike Erre). There on page 79, just two pages from where I had last stopped reading, was the scripture I had been thinking about yesterday (Matthew 16:13-14, blog post to follow).
I didn’t feel like writing. I didn’t feel like doing anything really. I just wanted to sit for a few minutes and relax. How could I though? Pastor preached on sin today.
What is sin? I often think of James 4:17 when trying to answer that question, “If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them.”
I hear you, Lord, loud and clear. Message received.
But what about smaller promises?
Over the last few weeks I’ve had the feeling that I should start blogging again. I’m not sure if it’s the result of a book I recently read or a result of my reduced time on social media, but I’ve had more and more thoughts pop in my head that I feel God wants me to work through. Last night, that very thing happened. I was already in bed. I was comfy. And Harry Potter was just about to learn vital information to help him fight you-know-who. (Just keeping it real, folks!) Write something now? I’ll take care of that tomorrow, I told myself.
Fast forward to right now, literally right now. Well, ok, at this point probably 15 minutes ago. I am sitting at my dining room table having just finished lunch, still sipping my coffee, when I realized that I have forgotten what it was I was going to write about. Having had an amazing morning at church I do all I know to do, and I offer up a short prayer: Lord, if you help me remember I will write about it.
I pick up the book I’ve been reading (Jesus of Suburbia, by Mike Erre). There on page 79, just two pages from where I had last stopped reading, was the scripture I had been thinking about yesterday (Matthew 16:13-14, blog post to follow).
I didn’t feel like writing. I didn’t feel like doing anything really. I just wanted to sit for a few minutes and relax. How could I though? Pastor preached on sin today.
What is sin? I often think of James 4:17 when trying to answer that question, “If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them.”
I hear you, Lord, loud and clear. Message received.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Book Review: Organized Simplicity
Organized Simplicity: The Clutter Free Approach to Intentional Living
By Tsh Oxenreider
I received this book as a gift from a friend who had received this book as a gift from her sister-in-law. And as it goes with good books, word of mouth is the best marketing system. Yes, I already have a friend in mind to pass the book along to.
How-to, self help, minimalism, and cleaning books are not lacking in our society. Yet houses are getting bigger, families are getting busier, and dare I say families are getting poorer. When we were first married we lived in a house that was about 1000 sqft, but fantastically affordable and just right for newlyweds. Fast forward 7 years, add two children and one new, better paying job later and we were ready to move to a better neighborhood. The two 1700 sqft homes we lived in over the course of the next three years always seemed a little too big (my husband would disagree, I'm sure).
We longed to own a home and finally found one in our price range and took aggressive measures (ok, maybe just measures) to make sure we could fit in our new 1/3 smaller home. And so I find myself today cozy in my 1150 sqft home. And while my kids get bigger (both boys predicted to break 6 feet tall) I have been tempted to add on (I love our location so I don't want to move). But about a year ago I realized that to increase this home would deprive potential future buyers of their cozy first home. #LoveGrowsBestInLittleHouses
What I loved about this book is that it not only addresses your clutter, it addresses time and money. Tsh has great concepts that can be applied to any area of your life. This is what I walked away with:
1. Live Intentional.
Not doing this is probably the biggest thief of our lives. We are so busy just getting by that we forget why we are alive (some have never stopped to even consider why). God has s purpose for each of us; how sad to think we may have ignored it in our busyness. Prioritize your life as an individual/family and then live in a way that congruent with your life's purpose.
2. Create Availability.
This was a life changer for me. Our lives are so full that we are prisoners of them. Payoff your debt and bulk up your savings so you can use your money to help someone when needed, take that dream vacation, or retire in style. Don't keep your family so busy you can't savor the activities you do. Clean and declutter your home so you can host a girls night, let your kids have that sleep over, or even house a visiting friend.
3. Deny obligation.
Do you really "have to"? I know there are some things that you really do "have to" do but when you live intentionally you will start to see you don't really have to do everything. It's ok - even appropriate - to say no. Does a kid have to play four different organized sports? Do you have to watch six reality shows instead of living your own life? Do you have to have a new car? Do you have to keep that gift that you will never use? Ask yourself these kinds of questions and you may be surprised at the answers.
I hope you enjoy this book as much as I did. I will likely re-read this in years to come, which I don't say often, but it was really that meaningful to me.
By Tsh Oxenreider
I received this book as a gift from a friend who had received this book as a gift from her sister-in-law. And as it goes with good books, word of mouth is the best marketing system. Yes, I already have a friend in mind to pass the book along to.
How-to, self help, minimalism, and cleaning books are not lacking in our society. Yet houses are getting bigger, families are getting busier, and dare I say families are getting poorer. When we were first married we lived in a house that was about 1000 sqft, but fantastically affordable and just right for newlyweds. Fast forward 7 years, add two children and one new, better paying job later and we were ready to move to a better neighborhood. The two 1700 sqft homes we lived in over the course of the next three years always seemed a little too big (my husband would disagree, I'm sure).
We longed to own a home and finally found one in our price range and took aggressive measures (ok, maybe just measures) to make sure we could fit in our new 1/3 smaller home. And so I find myself today cozy in my 1150 sqft home. And while my kids get bigger (both boys predicted to break 6 feet tall) I have been tempted to add on (I love our location so I don't want to move). But about a year ago I realized that to increase this home would deprive potential future buyers of their cozy first home. #LoveGrowsBestInLittleHouses
What I loved about this book is that it not only addresses your clutter, it addresses time and money. Tsh has great concepts that can be applied to any area of your life. This is what I walked away with:
1. Live Intentional.
Not doing this is probably the biggest thief of our lives. We are so busy just getting by that we forget why we are alive (some have never stopped to even consider why). God has s purpose for each of us; how sad to think we may have ignored it in our busyness. Prioritize your life as an individual/family and then live in a way that congruent with your life's purpose.
2. Create Availability.
This was a life changer for me. Our lives are so full that we are prisoners of them. Payoff your debt and bulk up your savings so you can use your money to help someone when needed, take that dream vacation, or retire in style. Don't keep your family so busy you can't savor the activities you do. Clean and declutter your home so you can host a girls night, let your kids have that sleep over, or even house a visiting friend.
3. Deny obligation.
Do you really "have to"? I know there are some things that you really do "have to" do but when you live intentionally you will start to see you don't really have to do everything. It's ok - even appropriate - to say no. Does a kid have to play four different organized sports? Do you have to watch six reality shows instead of living your own life? Do you have to have a new car? Do you have to keep that gift that you will never use? Ask yourself these kinds of questions and you may be surprised at the answers.
I hope you enjoy this book as much as I did. I will likely re-read this in years to come, which I don't say often, but it was really that meaningful to me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)