The day I found out why I'm alive.

This is the start of something amazing...
A moment when heaven touches earth.
Here in our hearts, Lord, we are waiting
For something that's far beyond what we have seen or heard.

// "The Ascension," by Phil Wickham


How timely that this song blares through my headphones at the moment I start to write today?

Timely, because today is obviously the start (and continuation) of something amazing.

Why? I have no idea.

Allow me to start from the beginning.

12 years ago, at the age of 14, God called me to full-time ministry. I wish I could explain it... That feeling, deep down, that you know part of how you are supposed to walk forward in life.

Okay, honestly, I was terrified at the time. And a little angry. And maybe annoyed. Maybe the first thing I told my dad (a full-time pastor as long as I've been alive) as he prayed for me that night was that I wanted God to use me in a way that I had to be smart to do. Pastors don't have to be smart, like surgeons or astronauts or chemists.

I can only imagine what went through his head at that moment. I assume it was a mixture of eye-rolling, possibly a little bit of hurt, and probably a lot of chagrin as he reflected on how difficult he knew ministry to be. His daughter, the little firecracker who knew she could do anything, had realized that she was facing a life similar to his... and she had no idea what that future would look like.

That night, I bet my dad interceded for me in prayer when we parted ways to head back to the camp cabins. I would be surprised if he hadn't, at least for a brief second, hoped that it was just a phase or an emotional moment. Knowing the serious business that ministry can be, he may have even asked for my reprieve... for a new call to something safer, something more stable.

Something that didn't involve the heaviness of responsibility that he had lived with for over 20 years by that time.

But he knew better. When I was very young, a wise person had told my parents that God would call me away from them later in life, sometimes to places very far away for a long time. They were prepared. They knew what that meant, even then.

Fast forward. The quick, in-between parts of this story include a confusing decision to go into youth ministry, even though I have never quite gotten along with teenagers (even when I was one of them myself). After all, I didn't want to be a senior pastor. Children's pastor was out - little kids made me cringe and shudder. In my overwhelmingly limited mind, those were the three options.

I began college as a theology major. Hey, I may not have to be a genius to pastor teenagers, but I can learn new languages and impress people with my vast knowledge of biblical context and theories about the Trinity and interpretations of Revelation, right?

Writing this all down, I have to laugh. It's so comical at this point to look back and see how ignorant I was... And to remember how confident I was in my ignorance.

Hmm... What next?

I hated my freshman year of college. It was a time wrought with depression, anxiety and panic attacks, and desperate attempts not to drown under a growing workload I couldn't motivate myself to complete. The only redemptive factor was that I met the man who would become my husband a year and a half later. (But that's a whole other story... A really good one!)

A professor told me I wasn't called to ministry.

I changed my major to psychology and turned my back on something I obviously wasn't good enough to do.

I sang background vocals at my school's spring revival and had the best time of my life. There was something there... Something new.

I moved home and transferred schools.

And then, because God is good and He is so kind, my dad's church was suddenly in need of a worship leader very soon after I moved. I had expressed my desire to start learning... and so I did.

It was, quite possibly, the most difficult thing I've ever done. I battled insecurities and feeling inadequate, and worked with some people who were barely committed or just generally flaky... But I learned more in that three-year period than I ever thought possible.

And, oh boy, it was about to get even crazier.

In 2009, we moved to Nashville so that I could complete my degree with a Bachelor's in Worship Arts. Again, to shorten the story, three years of intense learning and crazy experiences ensued. I traveled for a year with a Music Ministry team for the school, led in chapels, filled in at a few churches, and even held a worship pastor position at a church in Tennessee (for four months before it ended in a heaping stack of burning wreckage). I graduated from Trevecca Nazarene University over two years ago, and have since been experiencing the most tumultuous time of my life. Which is silly, because I thought my life was insane before!

I was delivered on October 14, 2012 from some intense spiritual oppression that had been a major issue in my life for some time. Then, in the start of 2013, out of nowhere, every opportunity I had to lead worship just disappeared.

Was swept away.

With no explanation.

For seven months, I didn't lead worship. Let me tell you, I didn't handle it well! I forgot how to spend time alone with Jesus in that intimate place of worship we should be living in consistently. I let anger and frustration get the best of me.

Finally, excruciatingly, I got a chance to co-lead with one of my best friends at a service out of town.

It was painful, and hard, and I had a breakdown at the end of our rehearsal because I was so out of practice and unprepared. Then, God did an amazing thing during the service - He showed up!

I ended the night on the platform with just one other member of the team. It was incredible! But my battle wasn't over.

Slowly, God changed the way I see my calling. He totally adjusted my feelings about how my calling had become my identity. He showed me that there were so many other things He had gifted me with the ability to do that I could not continue to put myself in a box. He used bad communication with people and some of the most maddening experiences of my life to show me who I truly am in Him.

This year has been even more transformative. Slowly but surely, God places opportunities in my path. Some go 'better' than others, some are more what I prefer while some are a stretch for me, and all of them came from a place where God did all the 'promoting.' I didn't have to 'get my name out there.' My chances to glorify God with these gifts has not been through anything I have or could have done. (By the way - that's the best route to take. Trust me.)

Which brings me to today.

Over the last 7 days, God has been showing me specifics of what I should and should not be doing to prepare for the calling He has placed on my life. It's very practical stuff, mostly about discipline and humility. Honestly, it was so much at once (especially since, for so long, I felt like He was almost silent about that part of my life) that it freaked me out a little.

Then, yesterday morning, I was asked to sing a song after one of our services. I haven't led worship on a Sunday morning at my home church in almost two years. If you have been around me during that time, you know that it's a big deal. Not because I want a platform, but because I love my church and am desperate to serve any way I can... And worship leading is a massive part of what God has been leading me to do. Capture Hope is also a big part of this, but that's a post for another day.

Today, in the midst of a mountain of work to finish and knowing that it makes zero sense, I knew I needed to write this all down. Someone, somewhere, needs to know that God calls you to be a part of something bigger than him or herself.

I created this a few weeks ago for my church's Facebook and Twitter accounts.

I do not know the completed answer to this question in my own life. What I do know is that, at this moment, there is something big. I am waiting on something that I'll only recognize after I see it. Whatever it is, I'm not confused. 

You see, I know who I am. And I am not defined by my calling. I am defined as a child of God, committed, submitted, and totally in love with Him, wherever He may take me.

The reason I'm alive is to glorify God. Regardless of what He wants to do in and with me, regardless of where He takes me or whether or not I ever get anything that I want in my own self - He is my purpose. Just Him. He is my reason.

And whatever I'm waiting on... It's just a gift from Him. The next gift in an endless series of good gifts He offers us, if we are only willing to receive them. And I can't wait to see what He has in store.

We won't be satisfied with anything ordinary

We won't be satisfied at all

Open up the sky, fall down like rain

We don't want blessings, we want You!

Open up the sky, fall down like fire

We don't want anything but You

// Open Up the Sky, by Deluge

I'm just not good enough.

Can I be honest for a moment?

I am really sick of feeling like I'm not good enough.

I'm sick of my employer(s) treating me that way. I'm sick of the enemy trying to convince me it's true every time I don't perform exactly perfectly. But mostly, I'm sick of allowing what other people say (or sometimes more damagingly, don't say) determine whether or not I think I'm good enough.

I am a worship leader. That is something God has done in me - it's not just a career path or a degree I hold. Years ago, God created this calling within me, and I have been trying ever since to do the right things to stay on that road. I left my parents and brother to move to Nashville so that I could finish my bachelor's degree with a major in Worship Arts. My life has revolved around chasing after this calling.

And then, four years ago, God put me and Josh at a church with the opposite problem that most churches deal with - our church has an overabundance of worship leaders, and there's no way for everyone in the congregation designated as such to serve all the time.

Oh, and here's the best part - He's keeping me there.

For years, I've battled inner turmoil, trying to convince myself that I'm a good, capable worship leader, even when my opportunities were slim or non-existent to lead worship. I've had some great experiences and opportunities, but they were interwoven into many more church services where I sat in the congregation. Last fall, I was asked to coordinate the people running media at our church on Sundays, which has given me a chance to be close to the 'action,' but still not in the way my heart wants.

Last year was the pinnacle of my frustration. At one point, I allowed myself to get so angry about being 'ignored' that God convicted me and I had to send several messages to close friends, apologizing for blaming other people and complaining about my situation. Talk about humbling - the basis of my argument in the whole situation had always been that I, Rebekah, was in the right, and everyone else was either disorganized or simply didn't care about me. In a day, I was basically forced to admit that the problem only lay within me.

And the problem wasn't ever that I was a 'bad' worship leader.

The problem was that, after years of consistent opportunities, churches telling me to contact them after graduation for a job leading worship, leading at our young adults gatherings at church, and feeling like I knew what was going on, I suddenly lost all my outlets for leading worship in a group. So, instead of spending time with Jesus on my own, drawing nearer to Him without the necessity of an audience or a microphone, I decided that other people had seen that I wasn't good enough and chose to be mad about it.

But people shouldn't determine the truth of what I know God has said. Someone's words (or lack thereof) should never change my passion for worshipping Jesus, whether it's in front of thousands or in my own living room.

Therein lies the solution: like my amazing pastor, Lindell Cooley, said just a few weeks ago. I sum it up here:

Don't let your emotions tell you what to do. You need to talk to yourself and tell yourself how to feel. Emotions are fleeting - truth is unchanging.

So what did I do? First, I surrendered to God and told Him that it was never going to be 'my' ministry in the first place, so if He wanted me to be the most passionate worshipper sitting in the second row of the congregation, that's what I'd do.

And wouldn't you know - within a week of truly surrendering that desire, I got one of the things I'd been waiting for so long: affirmation from one of my pastors that I was a capable worship leader. However, God knew better than to give it to me before I was fully ready to accept wherever He put me.

The next thing I did was to start spending time with Jesus regularly. I still have to work hard on discipline, because it's easy to get busy and watch time just pass by, but my heart is so much more happy on those days where I take time to spend time in His presence.

The last thing I have done was to start thanking Jesus for the opportunities I have had when my brain starts telling me that I'm inadequate and people don't want me to lead worship. Just last night, the enemy pretty much just told me that I'm a "Holy Spirit buzzkill." The lie was something along the lines of, 'any time you get on a platform, the Holy Spirit doesn't really move.... it might be an okay time of worship, but you stop the Holy Spirit from truly transforming people when you're around.'

Well, that's silly. I started reminding my atmosphere of all the times God has worked through me and thanking Him for those moments. And I woke up this morning feeling as if I could conquer the world!

If you've taken the time to read this post, bravo! And thank you. My overall thought would be to leave you with this...

People can't tell you that you are unworthy. God calls you worthy. He calls you beautiful. He calls you to live in His glorious light. Don't let a person's words define your identity - only what God says about you.

Peace.
-R

Stronger than what I can carry.

I wrote a song yesterday.

With all the beauty of this weekend (a great photo shoot on Saturday, silhouetted by a ridiculously gorgeous sunset), my creative juices seemed to be flowing. I don't write a lot, but when I do, it's generally an emotional and spiritual experience.

The first part of the song I came up with is this bridge:

Your love is better than all I could ever want
Your love is stronger than all I could ever carry

It hit me after I sang out that second line what a miraculous reality that is.

I can't carry being unemployed. It's scary and makes me feel like a failure.
I can't carry the pain of the difficulties my body has conceiving children. I believe God has said we will conceive, but that doesn't make this waiting game any less horrible.
I can't carry the load of being entrusted with the deep stories of an individual, knowing they have trusted me to share it in a way that is respectful and meaningful.

And yet, though all of these burdens are more than I should be able to bear, the love of my Father carries them for me. He has not allowed me to hold onto them by myself.

If you are holding onto something too much for you today, know that God has promised to be the one carrying that load. Even when it seems impossible - no, especially when it seems impossible, He is right there to be your strength.

Look at this sunset. Keep your chin up. And rely on Him to be the One keeping you strong.

She was home for Christmas.

My Christmas Eve was rather unorthodox this year.

As a pastor's kid, I've traveled to the hospital with my dad on many occasions. Sometimes, it was after routine procedures or minor scares that turned into nothing. On other days, I joined him as we said goodbye to a life. Christmas eve was one such day.

Spartanburg 1st Church of the Nazarene, my father's church, plays a large part in their marginalized community by inviting residents of local residence homes for adults who are unable to live completely on their own. These folks are unable to offer much in the way of financial support or leadership, but they offer something much greater - a chance to love without ever expecting anything in return. One such lady was named Brenda.

So many of us complain about the most trivial things. "My phone doesn't work fast enough." "I wish my 2,000 square foot house had 8,000 square feet." "I don't understand why I can't look like a model." Brenda had no traditional legacy to her name, no beach body to claim, no career to speak of; and yet, she loved unashamedly. She was always a sweet, kind soul, ready to offer a hug and a smile to anyone willing to receive.

The above photo is from a Christmas party held at my parents house in 2012. Brenda and the other residents came over to share in some desserts and fellowship. One of them said they'd never been invited to a party before - something that for most of us seems commonplace. 

In 2013, Brenda suffered a massive heart attack the Friday before Christmas. Her family could not be reached to be called in when she would be taken off the life support keeping her body alive - the only communication anyone had recently received was the week before her heart attack, when her son called to say he would be traveling to town to buy her the pair of boots she had wanted for so long. But no one could find him or any of her other children to tell them what had happened.

This brings us to Christmas Eve. The doctors had chosen to remove her life support that day, so she wouldn't have to suffer during Christmas. She had been pronounced brain-dead and would not regain consciousness again.

My family (father, mother, and brother) and I drove to the hospital before lunch. There, we met Travis and Melody, a married couple who have played a large part in the outreach to homes like Brenda's. A few other church members who cared very much for her were regrettably absent due to work schedules.

Right before we walked into the hospital room, my dad looked at me to ask if I would be able to sing something as she took her last breaths. Everyone else had already started to cry, so I was the only one left who would be able to start a song. The nurses turned off all the machines and displays and left us in the room to say goodbye. So we sang It Is Well With My Soul.

We joined together in song, tearfully, sniffling, and a little out of tune. Brenda coded as soon as support was removed, and went peacefully into eternity. My mother commented later that rather than tears, our response could consist of rejoicing - Brenda was the only one of us in that room who would spend Christmas with Jesus. While our song wouldn't earn us a grammy, and the 'performance' was anything but perfect, it was a flawless way to say our farewells to a woman who would remain forever in our hearts.

My life has always been far more blessed by those people who were willing to love without expectations. Brenda became our family, not because she wanted us to give her things, and not because we thought there was ever anything tangible she could provide for us, but because we are all children of God, seeking one purpose - to know Jesus more. She had a beautiful soul, and will be missed by those who knew her.

Merry Christmas, Brenda. You gave me a more amazing gift than all the ones wrapped beneath our tree, and I will never forget.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll

The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Too Much To Do.

A few weeks ago, a man at church made a comment to me that blew me away.

After explaining to him that Josh and I were simply too busy and had too much to do to add anything else, he said, "You're not supposed to be that busy before you have kids."

I don't know if that's true. I'm not sure how to determine that. I DO know, however, that I have done a poor job of learning how to rest and enjoy time with others. It feels as if there is always something on my mind that I should be working on, writing, photographing, editing, reconciling... you name it, I'm sure it's on my "to-do" list.

This Thanksgiving holiday, I chose to take some time to rest. We are visiting my in-laws in Ohio, and I have read almost half of one book on my Nook, slept in the last two days, and Pinterest-ed until my eyes were tired. Oh, and reclaimed my love for Geometry Wars on the Xbox.

Have I "accomplished" anything? Maybe, maybe not. But one thing is for sure: Jesus Himself said that we need rest. So I'm taking it, and I won't feel guilty. I'm so thankful that He gave us that reminder.

Happy Thanksgiving!