"Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world."
- James 1:27 KJV
Tonight, I was given the pleasure of singing for a young adult service at GoodNaz called 702. I've participated in leading worship there before, and although it's not my home church, I greatly enjoy working with my friend Greg (who is the worship leader for 702) and chatting with Pastor Daryl (the lead pastor at GoodNaz).
This particular evening was different than the typical 702 service. Instead of a few songs and a message, we had a few songs, read a scripture passage, and then went out to visit a widow.
Yep. A widow.
My first thought was how unusual this was as a way to spend a young adult service.
My second thought was how awesome this was as a way to spend a young adult service.
So, we all drove in a little caravan to visit Shirley, a 75-year-old congregant at GoodNaz who recently lost her husband of 57 years. As we sat in her living room, asking questions about losing her husband and about their relationship that had lasted for so long, I was overwhelmed by how meaningful this action was.
How often do we actually take the time to care for the widows and orphans?
Pastor Daryl asked us as we sat there why we thought widows and orphans were singled out in the Word as those for whom we should care, and why this particular action was considered "pure religion."
At that point, it occurred to me that it was quite possible the reason for this is that, by definition, widows and orphans don't have the support structure surrounding them that the rest of us may. Yes, we may have parents that drive us crazy or a husband that forgets things like it's his job (and I say that with a smile, don't worry), but there is still a support around us. But Shirley said the hardest parts of losing her husband were just missing him in general, and then having to be alone so much.
How difficult would it be for me to connect with some older widows in my church, and offer to come around once in a while to read to them? To do their dishes? To reminisce? To gain wisdom? To fix their computer?
One thing is for sure - the verse in James 1 is rather clear. There's not much to misconstrue or twist to fit an agenda. It's just simple - take care of the widows and orphans, and don't be defiled by the world.
It seems to me that the two go hand in hand - taking care of those who need it goes directly against the selfish lifestyles that many of us (yes, even those who call ourselves Christians) tend to lead, in our flesh.
It means nothing if we just sit around talking about it. Let's take some action.
3.27.2012
3.09.2012
In the middle.
I visited some old friends today.
My last full-time job, at a place called SmileMakers, was one of the biggest blessings of my life. I made forever friends there, including a boss whose number will probably always be on my speed dial.
I go back to visit as often as I can (which isn't much), and was pleasantly surprised to see the new renovations on the building. It looks completely different, a fantastic modern office that was obviously very wisely designed.
I was almost in tears to see the place. I remember working there when everyone was cramped into tiny little spaces and storage was basically unheard of. Seeing the updates made me so happy for all my friends who still work there, and I was thrilled to know they now had the space and comfort they deserved all along.
As different as the renovations make the building look, the basics are the same. Everything is relatively similar to the way it was before, at least as far as operations are concerned. I'm sure the specifics are much different, but not from the surface.
Every time I visit home, I am reminded of when my life felt less hectic. Yes, work was often crazy and there weren't a lot of 'slow' days, but when I left work, I left work (for real). I spent most evenings with my parents and husband, and went to church two or three times a week. I desperately missed that for the two hours I visited my old job today. I actually remember feeling, after I suddenly lost my position as worship pastor at Estill Springs last year, that I would have given anything to just move into my parents' house and beg my old boss for a job again. That only lasted a few weeks, but the simplicity of it is something I catch myself craving on a semi-regular basis.
Now, between two jobs, a small photography business, school, church, our young adult group, and the other various things in which I am involved, I barely get home before 10 PM on any night. On top of that, we live a minimum of 25 minutes away from everything, including work, school, church, and all our friends. My life feels so hectic, and I am ready to have a few less things to do. In addition to that, I'm still trying to raise money for a school trip to Asia in May, right after graduation.
I've felt for several months like I'm just in the middle of things. I'm neither here nor there - not quite a graduate, but not a full-time student... not a full-time employee, but not satisfied working part-time... not a main worship leader anywhere, but one of many in the various places I call spiritual homes. I am a practical person, and I don't like feeling so in the middle - I want to feel stable. I'm going home in two days, and walking right back into all of that.
However, I was reminded yesterday of one of my favorite passages of Scripture. It's the one I lean on when I start to feel overwhelmed, and thinking about it right now is starting to make my eyes water.
It is so magnificent to know that when my life feels so inconsistent, my Savior never is. When my heart feels so torn in two because I want to be in two places at once, my Jesus knows exactly what is best for me and where He wants me. When my soul yearns for simplicity, my Lord provides a time of rest.
I'm so blessed by the people in my life. I'm so blessed by my family. I'm so blessed by all the things God has put right in front of me. So...
"This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope: It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Thy faithfulness! The Lord is my portion, saith my soul, therefore will I hope in Him. The Lord is good unto them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeketh Him."
- Lamentations 3:21-25
My last full-time job, at a place called SmileMakers, was one of the biggest blessings of my life. I made forever friends there, including a boss whose number will probably always be on my speed dial.
I go back to visit as often as I can (which isn't much), and was pleasantly surprised to see the new renovations on the building. It looks completely different, a fantastic modern office that was obviously very wisely designed.
I was almost in tears to see the place. I remember working there when everyone was cramped into tiny little spaces and storage was basically unheard of. Seeing the updates made me so happy for all my friends who still work there, and I was thrilled to know they now had the space and comfort they deserved all along.
As different as the renovations make the building look, the basics are the same. Everything is relatively similar to the way it was before, at least as far as operations are concerned. I'm sure the specifics are much different, but not from the surface.
Every time I visit home, I am reminded of when my life felt less hectic. Yes, work was often crazy and there weren't a lot of 'slow' days, but when I left work, I left work (for real). I spent most evenings with my parents and husband, and went to church two or three times a week. I desperately missed that for the two hours I visited my old job today. I actually remember feeling, after I suddenly lost my position as worship pastor at Estill Springs last year, that I would have given anything to just move into my parents' house and beg my old boss for a job again. That only lasted a few weeks, but the simplicity of it is something I catch myself craving on a semi-regular basis.
Now, between two jobs, a small photography business, school, church, our young adult group, and the other various things in which I am involved, I barely get home before 10 PM on any night. On top of that, we live a minimum of 25 minutes away from everything, including work, school, church, and all our friends. My life feels so hectic, and I am ready to have a few less things to do. In addition to that, I'm still trying to raise money for a school trip to Asia in May, right after graduation.
I've felt for several months like I'm just in the middle of things. I'm neither here nor there - not quite a graduate, but not a full-time student... not a full-time employee, but not satisfied working part-time... not a main worship leader anywhere, but one of many in the various places I call spiritual homes. I am a practical person, and I don't like feeling so in the middle - I want to feel stable. I'm going home in two days, and walking right back into all of that.
However, I was reminded yesterday of one of my favorite passages of Scripture. It's the one I lean on when I start to feel overwhelmed, and thinking about it right now is starting to make my eyes water.
It is so magnificent to know that when my life feels so inconsistent, my Savior never is. When my heart feels so torn in two because I want to be in two places at once, my Jesus knows exactly what is best for me and where He wants me. When my soul yearns for simplicity, my Lord provides a time of rest.
I'm so blessed by the people in my life. I'm so blessed by my family. I'm so blessed by all the things God has put right in front of me. So...
"This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope: It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Thy faithfulness! The Lord is my portion, saith my soul, therefore will I hope in Him. The Lord is good unto them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeketh Him."
- Lamentations 3:21-25
10.27.2011
Balance.
I did a photo shoot today.
(If you're curious, the link to the album on Facebook is here.)
And below, you'll see what ended up being my favorite photo from the set:
I also had what was [hopefully] my last visit to the counselor I've been seeing at Trevecca.
One of the things my counselor said to me today was the great strides I've made in the area of learning balance.
(And here's why the photos and the counselor are related.)
After unexpectedly losing my first paid worship pastor position earlier this year, I sort of lost it. Regardless of whether or not it was reasonable or normal, that is simply what happened. One of the things I warred within internally was the disparity between what I know God has called me to do, and my utter revulsion with the thought of ever doing it again... which was one of the reasons I began seeing a counselor in the first place.
The two sides were this:
1. I feel like the basic idea I've heard growing up (not necessarily even from my parents, just from people in general) about a call to ministry is that when God makes it clear to you He wants you to serve in ministry, it means that is automatically supposed to be your full-time, lifetime career.
2. I knew, at that point, that the prospect of accepting a full-time worship ministry position, especially one that would require my family to move away from Nashville, was something I didn't even want to think about considering.
So how can I deal with the fact I don't want to do what it is I'm supposed to be doing?
Next, we come to the photo shoot.
Like I said, my favorite photo of the day is the one shown above. The best thing for me about it is the simplicity of it. Anna-Laura is wearing a simple shirt and scarf. Her hair is pulled back. The only thing behind her is a brick wall.
While reviewing the pictures, a good photographer/videographer friend of mine, whose opinion I greatly respect, said this:
"I like this one - it's really simple."
Simplicity is often the best way to come up with a fantastic picture; and, in life, simplicity is often the best way find balance.
Then I realized something simple... and it kind of rocked my world.
Are you ready for this?
When God calls you to something, it probably won't fit in the box you create for it.
Did you catch that?
I have found myself, so many times, utterly perplexed at the reasons God allows certain things to happen. I am disappointed, hurt, and even confused by things I see as negatives. However, I am beginning to see that the reason for much of that is my inability to understand that God is not me, and therefore doesn't live in my own little universe.
God revealed to me, over the course of several years, that He wanted me to be a worship leader. He gifted me musically and gave me a passion for the use of the arts in worship, and I plan on using those gifts and passions to their fullest potential.
But I am not limited to the role of "worship pastor."
A church does not need to pay my salary.
Does any of that mean I am forever closed to the idea of being employed, either part-time or as my only job, by a church body? No way.
Does that mean I have the freedom to seek employment and volunteer opportunities wherever God leads, not just the little segment of the world I try to force my "calling" into?
Yes. That is precisely what it means.
In fact, I am leading worship with a few friends of mine for the young adults service at my church on Sunday night.
The playlist for the set is here.
I'm very much looking forward to it... and I already can't wait to do it again.
[Look for my next post, coming soon: Freedom from Shame.]
(If you're curious, the link to the album on Facebook is here.)
And below, you'll see what ended up being my favorite photo from the set:
I also had what was [hopefully] my last visit to the counselor I've been seeing at Trevecca.
One of the things my counselor said to me today was the great strides I've made in the area of learning balance.
(And here's why the photos and the counselor are related.)
After unexpectedly losing my first paid worship pastor position earlier this year, I sort of lost it. Regardless of whether or not it was reasonable or normal, that is simply what happened. One of the things I warred within internally was the disparity between what I know God has called me to do, and my utter revulsion with the thought of ever doing it again... which was one of the reasons I began seeing a counselor in the first place.
The two sides were this:
1. I feel like the basic idea I've heard growing up (not necessarily even from my parents, just from people in general) about a call to ministry is that when God makes it clear to you He wants you to serve in ministry, it means that is automatically supposed to be your full-time, lifetime career.
2. I knew, at that point, that the prospect of accepting a full-time worship ministry position, especially one that would require my family to move away from Nashville, was something I didn't even want to think about considering.
So how can I deal with the fact I don't want to do what it is I'm supposed to be doing?
Next, we come to the photo shoot.
Like I said, my favorite photo of the day is the one shown above. The best thing for me about it is the simplicity of it. Anna-Laura is wearing a simple shirt and scarf. Her hair is pulled back. The only thing behind her is a brick wall.
While reviewing the pictures, a good photographer/videographer friend of mine, whose opinion I greatly respect, said this:
"I like this one - it's really simple."
Simplicity is often the best way to come up with a fantastic picture; and, in life, simplicity is often the best way find balance.
Then I realized something simple... and it kind of rocked my world.
Are you ready for this?
When God calls you to something, it probably won't fit in the box you create for it.
Did you catch that?
I have found myself, so many times, utterly perplexed at the reasons God allows certain things to happen. I am disappointed, hurt, and even confused by things I see as negatives. However, I am beginning to see that the reason for much of that is my inability to understand that God is not me, and therefore doesn't live in my own little universe.
God revealed to me, over the course of several years, that He wanted me to be a worship leader. He gifted me musically and gave me a passion for the use of the arts in worship, and I plan on using those gifts and passions to their fullest potential.
But I am not limited to the role of "worship pastor."
A church does not need to pay my salary.
Does any of that mean I am forever closed to the idea of being employed, either part-time or as my only job, by a church body? No way.
Does that mean I have the freedom to seek employment and volunteer opportunities wherever God leads, not just the little segment of the world I try to force my "calling" into?
Yes. That is precisely what it means.
In fact, I am leading worship with a few friends of mine for the young adults service at my church on Sunday night.
The playlist for the set is here.
I'm very much looking forward to it... and I already can't wait to do it again.
[Look for my next post, coming soon: Freedom from Shame.]
10.05.2011
Hell.
I heard a song today called "Fires" by Matt Redman.
These are the lyrics:
We're standing in the desert of dry bones
But still we see Your life
Walking through the valley of shadows
But holding onto light
And we're waiting, waiting on You, God
And our hearts will trust, trust in who You are
God who keeps our fires burning
Burning through the darkest night
See the hope in our hearts
The faith in our eyes
You can move the highest mountain
You can keep our dreams alive
You're the joy of our hearts
You're the fire in our eyes
Light up our lives with holy flame
All for the honor of Your name
Give us the strength to face the day, Jesus
I have been struggling lately. I wish I could say there was only one cause or source of tension, but I can't. Suffice it to say that it's been a long few months.
Here are two big issues I'm dealing with:
1. I feel like my dream of being a worship pastor has died.
2. I can't reconcile the Biblical notion of Hell with the God that loves me.
Double whammy, eh?
If we begin with number one, you will recall that I lost my first official worship pastorette in June. I'm not dealing with it well, to say the least, even though I know it is something that happens very often, to a lot of people. It's hitting me hard because I'm really scared, and I am trying to think of any way out of ever having to do it again, if I can.
I'm scared because...
I feel like it proved I'm not good enough to be someone's pastor.
I got very close to people that I'm afraid don't even know I exist anymore.
I feel like I lost a second dad when my pastor moved away and stopped contacting me.
I made a few big decisions related to that job that I now regret (moving 30 minutes outside of town and not auditioning for PR again this year, to name the two most prominent).
I see my future as a worship pastor including the entire month of June every year (when contracts are renewed) being a source of stress, worry, and unnecessary freak-outs.
But mostly, I'm scared because of how poorly I'm coping. How can I be strong enough to shepherd others if I fall apart like this?
Now, let's move on to number two. Hell.
Sunday afternoon, I heard a line from a sermon that threw me for a loop, and I haven't been able to shake the concept from my head since.
Basically, the pastor pointed out (and backed up with Scripture) the fact that an eternity in Hell is not an eternity apart from God. God is the one "in charge" of Hell, not Satan.
That really sucks.
I really love people. I don't say that to build myself up, because there are many days that I wish I could just turn that part of me off. But I really do love people. Josh said it was probably a good thing when I decided not to be a therapist, because he wasn't sure I'd be able to handle other people's problems to that extent, because they usually affect me so personally.
I love a lot of people that don't follow Christ, including parts of my family.
So when I heard that God lords over Hell as well as Heaven, the first thought that came to mind was the immense cruelty of it. How could a God that loves us so passionately that He sent His only begotten Son to die in an abhorrent fashion so that we might live eternally be the same God that willingly sends the people I love to Hell?
I understand the issue of original sin, and that God gives us all sorts of chances, and all of the mechanics of why it works the way it does... in the present, that is.
But if God is God, why did He create that way to begin with? He could have done it any way He pleased.
Now back to the song I heard.
I feel like I'm in shadows and walking amongst dry bones. It might sound dramatic, but I have felt so hopeless lately. There is no other word to describe it.
But I look around, and I know that God must be real. I see beauty and love and light and know that He isn't just a figment of someone's imagination or an elaborate scheme to fool people.
And if God is real, then all of Him is real, even the parts I don't like or understand.
A good friend told me Sunday evening that as hard as those parts of God are to deal with, the only acceptable option is the option to respect His sovreignty, and let that passion for the lost spur you to tell everyone you can about His love, since it really is His will that none should perish.
My heart must trust in who He is, because there is no other way to keep this fire burning. I don't want to be a dying candle - I have to be a burning, unquenchable flame. There is no in between, because in between means misery for me.
A pastor said to me yesterday that it is not wrong to ask God why - He is not afraid of our questions.
I won't stop asking why, but I want to reach the point where I stop letting the why stop me from being all God wants me to be.
These are the lyrics:
We're standing in the desert of dry bones
But still we see Your life
Walking through the valley of shadows
But holding onto light
And we're waiting, waiting on You, God
And our hearts will trust, trust in who You are
God who keeps our fires burning
Burning through the darkest night
See the hope in our hearts
The faith in our eyes
You can move the highest mountain
You can keep our dreams alive
You're the joy of our hearts
You're the fire in our eyes
Light up our lives with holy flame
All for the honor of Your name
Give us the strength to face the day, Jesus
I have been struggling lately. I wish I could say there was only one cause or source of tension, but I can't. Suffice it to say that it's been a long few months.
Here are two big issues I'm dealing with:
1. I feel like my dream of being a worship pastor has died.
2. I can't reconcile the Biblical notion of Hell with the God that loves me.
Double whammy, eh?
If we begin with number one, you will recall that I lost my first official worship pastorette in June. I'm not dealing with it well, to say the least, even though I know it is something that happens very often, to a lot of people. It's hitting me hard because I'm really scared, and I am trying to think of any way out of ever having to do it again, if I can.
I'm scared because...
I feel like it proved I'm not good enough to be someone's pastor.
I got very close to people that I'm afraid don't even know I exist anymore.
I feel like I lost a second dad when my pastor moved away and stopped contacting me.
I made a few big decisions related to that job that I now regret (moving 30 minutes outside of town and not auditioning for PR again this year, to name the two most prominent).
I see my future as a worship pastor including the entire month of June every year (when contracts are renewed) being a source of stress, worry, and unnecessary freak-outs.
But mostly, I'm scared because of how poorly I'm coping. How can I be strong enough to shepherd others if I fall apart like this?
Now, let's move on to number two. Hell.
Sunday afternoon, I heard a line from a sermon that threw me for a loop, and I haven't been able to shake the concept from my head since.
Basically, the pastor pointed out (and backed up with Scripture) the fact that an eternity in Hell is not an eternity apart from God. God is the one "in charge" of Hell, not Satan.
That really sucks.
I really love people. I don't say that to build myself up, because there are many days that I wish I could just turn that part of me off. But I really do love people. Josh said it was probably a good thing when I decided not to be a therapist, because he wasn't sure I'd be able to handle other people's problems to that extent, because they usually affect me so personally.
I love a lot of people that don't follow Christ, including parts of my family.
So when I heard that God lords over Hell as well as Heaven, the first thought that came to mind was the immense cruelty of it. How could a God that loves us so passionately that He sent His only begotten Son to die in an abhorrent fashion so that we might live eternally be the same God that willingly sends the people I love to Hell?
I understand the issue of original sin, and that God gives us all sorts of chances, and all of the mechanics of why it works the way it does... in the present, that is.
But if God is God, why did He create that way to begin with? He could have done it any way He pleased.
Now back to the song I heard.
I feel like I'm in shadows and walking amongst dry bones. It might sound dramatic, but I have felt so hopeless lately. There is no other word to describe it.
But I look around, and I know that God must be real. I see beauty and love and light and know that He isn't just a figment of someone's imagination or an elaborate scheme to fool people.
And if God is real, then all of Him is real, even the parts I don't like or understand.
A good friend told me Sunday evening that as hard as those parts of God are to deal with, the only acceptable option is the option to respect His sovreignty, and let that passion for the lost spur you to tell everyone you can about His love, since it really is His will that none should perish.
My heart must trust in who He is, because there is no other way to keep this fire burning. I don't want to be a dying candle - I have to be a burning, unquenchable flame. There is no in between, because in between means misery for me.
A pastor said to me yesterday that it is not wrong to ask God why - He is not afraid of our questions.
I won't stop asking why, but I want to reach the point where I stop letting the why stop me from being all God wants me to be.
9.17.2011
Unbelievable.
"A child has no problem believing the unbelievable, nor does the genius or the madman. It's only you and I, with our big brains and our tiny hearts, who doubt and overthink and hesitate."
- Steven Pressfield, Do the Work
No wonder we're called to have 'childlike' faith.
I want to know, at the end of my lifetime, that I have not doubted or hesitated simply because I can't believe in something because it seems implausible.
After all, the people remembered for their lives are the ones that dared to believe, not the ones who played it safe.
- Steven Pressfield, Do the Work
No wonder we're called to have 'childlike' faith.
I want to know, at the end of my lifetime, that I have not doubted or hesitated simply because I can't believe in something because it seems implausible.
After all, the people remembered for their lives are the ones that dared to believe, not the ones who played it safe.
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