fall: God's lesson about the beauty of death.

Since I can remember, I’ve been the little girl that loved to soak up every moment of summer.  No school, bikes, pools.  But something in me has shifted in the last few years.  After years of summer confidently standing in the number one spot, fall has wiggled its way in to gain the gold.  Maybe it was my first Phoenix summer a few years ago that began a wedge between summer and me.  At just that time, I returned to Minnesota for the most magical season of color and crispness.  Some of my favorite moments with the Lord have been spent running or sitting along a lovely walking path that parallels the Mississippi River that splits Minneapolis from St. Paul.  The path is best in fall with massive deciduous trees shedding color combinations only God himself could create.  The crisp air on this girl’s face inspired and empowered me with new energy; perhaps a necessary jolt before the winter hibernation set in.

It’s the perfect time of year for a walk with a sweater and scarf.  Just when it gets a little too chilly, you can find your way into a cozy coffee shop that smells of sweet cider drinks and warm conversation.  There’s just something about this season.  Fall makes me feel alive and romanced.  I grieved missing the leaves, the orchards, and the sweatshirt weather this year as I sit by the pool in capris and a t-shirt.  The desert doesn’t do fall quite like Minnesota or New England, but there are echoes of the same refreshing sentiment.  I love the smell of fire pits in the evening and the ability to be outside again after our season of summer hibernation.

This season just resonates in me.  Its beauty and romance are just captivating to me and I wanted to figure out why.  Why is a season of death so stunning?  That’s really what it is.  The trees shedding their dead and burying them into expired lawns.  It’s a gorgeous death.  I got a little concerned for a bit that maybe at my core, I was enamored with a season of dying and my future will be resigned to reading Poe and wear black jackets and eyeliner.

But I don’t think that’s the case.  What if God, at the fall of humanity, weaved His redemption narrative into creation?  I mean, that sounds pretty simple, right?  We see dead things making soil rich to bring new life.  New growth emerges from out of the snowy winter.  We see parallel stories to Christ everywhere.  Maybe it’s been obvious to everyone else all along, but I have been captured these past few weeks by this notion:  God weaved a season of beautiful death into creation’s rhythm so it would already be familiar to our souls.

Think about it.  Death is the most ugly thing in existence.  It can be gory, gross, the most destructive and permanent part of life.  It goes against everything we are as created beings to find death beautiful.  So perhaps God did some foreshadowing in nature to prepare us and familiarize our beings with this seemingly oxymoronic concept that is essential to the Gospel.  Jesus took the most horrid death imaginable and redefined love and beauty where a curse once lived.  It’s a stretch for us to believe that God not only makes beautiful things out of the dust and dead, but He made death itself beautiful.  God shedding and killing our old selves to make us look more like him is beautiful death.  In a very literal way, letting go of life here to enter into eternity will be the most beautiful and true moment our souls will ever know.  I struggle to grasp it all, but Fall helps me to trust it’s possible.  I’m grateful today that God helps us see images of His truth in what He’s created because He knows our lack of faith and understanding.  What a good Dad.

Some of the most wonderful glory I’ve witnessed has been through this season of death.  It’s taught me to pay attention in other life seasons where death seems to prevail.  In relationships, in jobs, in health, in tragedy.  The promise stands that God is making it beautiful.  If we don’t stop and take a walk among what is dying, we may miss the beauty He’s painting into death to woo us, comfort us, and draw us further into His romantic story of redemption.  May we never miss it.  

Word for the Worship Leaders: impractical, extravagant worship

1 Six days before the Passover, Jesus arrived at Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. 2 Here a dinner was given in Jesus' honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. 3 Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus' feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. 4 But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, 5 "Why wasn't this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year's wages. " 6 He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it. 7 "Leave her alone," Jesus replied. "[It was intended] that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. 8 You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me."  John 12:1-8

Each fall our congregation does a series focusing on stewardship. Often when I think about stewardship, I perceive it conservatively. I immediately ask myself “where can I trim the fat and be more frugal so I that I can give more?”  There's always room for simplification and to really think carefully about how we are spending what God has blessed us with.  This story from John beats the concept of frugality to a pulp and throws it out in the street with its brother practicality.  There is nothing conservative, or stingy about Mary here.  The disciples are appalled at her wastefulness with using a bottle of expensive perfume to worship and honor Jesus.  They don’t understand.  Jesus was so simple in living.  Mary was being extravagant.  When they gave her a hard time about it, expecting that what Jesus would do, He defends her actions.  I’m sure they were confused and frustrated, but Jesus was delighted.  The power of love and forgiveness has transformed Mary’s broken life and story.  It had over taken her to the point of extravagant, over-the-top, impractical worship.  When we are called and claimed as Christ’s, we are set apart and transformed.  Life looks different when we see that no expense was spared for our salvation.  Without realizing it, we’re moved to spare no expense, not even our pride, to bring honor and praise to a relentless, loving Father.  In the Old Testament, when Solomon's temple was being built, there was no expense spared to honor God in that place.  There was no budget on the beauty, time, or expense given to honor the King of kings.  It pushes us to think about that seriously.  How can I worship and honor God extravagantly with what He has given me?  Am I so changed and in awe of God’s love for me to give up much for his honor?  How do we be good stewards of our resources and still worship extravagantly as a body?  This week and in the weeks to come, what does it look like to give up something valuable -- time, money, attention, looking cool -- to fall at the feet of Jesus in worship for how great His grace is toward us?

Word for the Worship Leaders: the power in praise.

[Word for the Worship Leaders is a new type of post that has come out of creating devotional moments to feed and encourage the worship leaders and teams of our ministry.]

1 O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. 2 From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise because of your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger. 3 When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, 4 what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him? 5 You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor. 6 You made him ruler over the works of your hands; you put everything under his feet: 7 all flocks and herds, and the beasts of the field, 8 the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea, all that swim the paths of the seas. 9 O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!  Psalm 8

This coming week, we're focusing on children in our "All in the Family" worship series.  God has created us to praise Him -- even as children and infants we are filled with breath and song to give our God glory.  And why?  Verse 2 says that praise silences the foes.

Nothing delights me like singing Bible songs to my godchildren and nephew as they fall asleep in peacefulness.  I have this powerful memory of my two week old nephew on the night of his baptism.  He was almost humming along with his baby noises as I rocked him and sang "I am Jesus' Little Lamb" over him.  Even so small, he was singing the praise of Jesus.

Much like the lullabies for children, singing praise calms us and puts our hearts to rest.  God is once again sitting on the throne of our hearts in our worship.  When I am afraid or worried or just spinning with thoughts, I often sing worship songs or hymns outloud to proclaim the truth of God's power in and among me and that situation.  It's a deep breath that reminds my heart of what is true.  Praise lets the enemy know that I'm not believing his lies or afraid of his work, but claiming the power of Christ crucified and risen.  The power grows as we proclaim praise collectively, as we speak God's promises to each other and go forth collectively in the power and purpose of God.

To my fellow worship leaders, we must remember that we are blessed with that opportunity every week -- to proclaim the praise of Jesus and speak the truth that silences the foes.  We get to lead the song of victory and proclamation for our gathered family of faith.  Whatever lie the foe is whispering or tactic he is trying to turn, when we praise with our heart, the lie loses ground.  The tactic weakens.  Our worship is so much more than a cool song with a sweet melody.  It's proclaiming the praise of Christ that silences every foe.  May this be our goal as worship leaders and people of faith -- to proclaim foe-silencing praise in our lives and for all those gathered.

perfect isn't real (PART 2): protecting an honest house.

So I received a lot of feedback from last’s week’s post “perfect isn't real: the foolish art of hiding your crazy.”

I must say that I am proud and a bit relieved to know that so many people I’m connected to are resonating and considering the same things of being authentic.  My friend, Lindsey, who has been a wonderful and lovely mutual sharer of crazy for a long time, asked a great question that I’ve been chewing on.

How do we go about being as honest as we can with strangers or others who aren't yet "safe”?

She went on to profoundly capture the struggle we find ourselves in:

Some of our crazy is only safe with those who won't turn that knowledge into a weapon...but if we never get to a place of feeling fully or at least mostly seen by others, then the devil's lies of "they don't really know you..." gain strength. 

Knowing my friend speaks great wisdom, I’ve continued to wrestle.  Not everyone has earned the right to know all of our stories.  The truth is our crazy is not safe with everyone we meet.  People who over share their life stories and wounds too quickly may not be guarding their heart as they should be. Scripture encourages us to guard our hearts, but also to not be a dish only clean on the outside.  So how are we honest, but not completely compromised?

I’ve spent a lot of time on the "closed off" side of this spectrum, to the point where it kept people from getting to know me.  The summer I worked at camp, a fellow counselor said to me in frustration, “you’re like Fort Knox..everybody knows there’s gold inside but nobody can get in.”  I don’t think I was being dishonest in that season, but just very guarded.

In effort to better connect with others and build relationships, I’ve dabbled on the “too open” side.  I’ve been so excited about building relationships, being affirming and pursuant, and letting people get to know me, while making them completely overwhelmed. 

There are people who didn’t protect my heart, my feelings, or my crazy and I got really hurt because of it.  There are others I was so distant from that they gave up trying to know me.

I admit that I’m still trying to figure this stuff out, especially as experiences continue to shape how much I swing back and forth on this social pendulum.  Awhile back, though, I was given an image that has helped me immensely to figure out how I’m honest and also protecting myself.

Picture yourself as a house.  Imagine away: the yard, the paint color.  How many rooms?  Is there a porch or a fence around the outside?  My house is a cozy small home with a grayish paint and white trim.  It has a big front window and a porch with white furniture.  A small white fence runs around the yard with grass and flowers.  What’s yours look like?  Can you picture it?  

Now, someone new is coming over.  Will you go out to meet them at the gate and chat with them across the fence?  Will you invite them to sit on the porch with a glass of iced tea?  Are they welcome to step inside to the foyer right away or even have a seat in the living room?

Some people are completely comfortable having new faces come right in and sit on their couch.  Some might want to meet on the porch a few times first.  You may decide to only chat over the fence with some.  Others may get to skip ahead to the foyer.  There may be months before anyone gets to see your kitchen and years before someone is invited into your room or your back closet full of the craziest crazy.  You know...the closet with the random junk you don’t know what do with.  It exists in our real homes and in our persons.  So here’s the deal.  This piece that gave me freedom and encouragement in all of this.

You get to decide.

You’re the one who gets to decide who is allowed in the yard, but not in the kitchen.  You get to decide how quickly someone gets to progress or not progress into your home.  You get to decide if someone is never allowed within the fence again.  You choose who stays in the yard and who is always welcome to sit on the couch.  You get to decide.

BUT...here’s the twist.  No matter the level you allow another into, let it be honest.  Don’t try to convince someone that the big mansion down the street is you.  Don't spend your life savings paying a gardener for a perfectly manicured front lawn and leaving your home inside in shambles.  When you invite people into your home, leave your Rock and Roll posters on the walls of your office.  Leave the encouragement you wrote to yourself on the bathroom mirrors.  If you're blaring N'Sync in the house, listen to it on the porch, too.  If someone is allowed all the way to the kitchen, offer them a Capri-Sun from your stash in the fridge.  Ask them to take off their shoes before entering an area that requires extra gentleness or leave their shoes on where there's broken glass or lost Legos in the carpet.  People who make it to your kitchen and don't like what they see, will either make themselves at home in the mess, roll up their sleeves and help you do the dishes, or find themselves uninvited.  That's how it works.  You need people in your kitchen, but not everyone in your kitchen.  People mocking, destroying, or stealing from your house get asked to leave.  People who take the time to love the process of being welcomed will cherish your house and join you in its protection and care.

Permit me to be so bold here for a moment with some real talk for my single friends.  Until that future spouse of yours has bought the keys to the whole house, the bedroom should stay locked.  It’s really tough to catch up on the bonding of the porch stage and regain the boundary of the living room, if someone has been given free reign of every part of the house.  Single or married, set that room aside for the most intimate relationship you will ever have—a place where no other relationship will go. Guard that room from any other relationship.  Be selective.  This is where your biggest crazy is shared and protected by someone else and you share and protect theirs.  This is not a room for just anyone.

So choose your safe and healthy pace for building depth in any relationship, but be authentic at every level that you invite someone to see.  And remember to be patient and gracious as the other person is doing the same with you.

Relationships of all kinds aren't about who hides their crazy the best, but who is managing it, protecting it, bettering it, and sharing it with trusted someones.  Because we all need that friend or two who will help us open the door to that scary back closet.

perfect isn't real: the foolish art of hiding your crazy.

I think I’ve always been pretty good at hiding my “crazy.”  I’m sure, like most people, I think I’m better at it than I actually am.  You know what I mean by your “crazy”…those parts of yourself that are less than becoming; your quirks, personality flaws, major turn offs even.  Despite your best efforts, I know you’re not perfect, because I know I’m not.  Some may not even know what theirs is, but everyone has their own set of crazy.

Our culture rewards people based on their ability to hide their crazy.  All you have to do is observe candidates running for office to witness this in action.  Slick suits, smooth rhetoric, a sweet smile, and charming, winsome words.  We run toward people who seem to say and do all of the right things…at least while people are watching.

They who have mastered hiding their crazy get the most (first) dates, followers, job offers, and birthday wishes on Facebook.  In a world of photoshop, tummy tucks and auto-tune, we begin to believe our goal is an unreal and unattainable something.  It breaks my heart.  

Sometimes I can’t help but think that so little has changed since Jesus walked the earth.  The religious teachers looked the part, spoke the law perfectly, followed every regulation, and were highly revered because of it.  No wonder John the Baptist didn’t make much of a splash with this crowd!  This unkempt, bug-eating, wilderness dude’s presence didn’t quite compel the masses into preparing for the Messiah.  The average folks didn’t have ears for someone who wasn’t bright and shiny on the outside.  The dude was out there.  Jesus pointed out to his disciples in Matthew 17 that an Elijah had come back to prepare for the Messiah.  It was John the Baptist and people didn’t recognize him in camel hair cloak.

I’ll admit, I can often struggle to see beyond the crazy of others.  1 Samuel 16:7 always gets me. “Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."   I am guilty of this.  I have been drawn to those who hide their crazy well and have lived most of my life wanting to fool others into thinking mine doesn’t exist.

As I’m maturing, I’m realizing the truth of 1 John 1.  “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.”  I’m over mastering this “crazy hiding” art.  It makes me tired.  It makes me wonder if people would really love me if they knew my quirks and shortcomings.  I don’t want to blindside someone with “who I really am” and I don’t want to be blindsided by someone else.  I've never felt so loved as when I've been in a community that is totally aware of my crazy, I of theirs, and we walk together growing in faith and wholeness.  Community is most beautiful when messy.  When you can be you and know you are loved.  Crazy and all.  That's what Jesus is about.  Loving us in the midst of our crazy and asking us to be honest about it.

I’m learning that lesson--to be drawn to people who are honest, healthy and working toward health.  Healthy people know they have crazy and are working on it.  They are honest and self-aware; understanding that people may take or leave them because of their crazy, but refusing to live any other way.

So I will tell you, if you want to prove to me that you’re perfect, our friendship won’t go far.  I am leery of perfection.  It only makes me more nervous about the crazy that bubbles beneath the surface.  If bits of my crazy are showing and I feel cast down, our connection will also be limited.  I’m tired of trying for “perfect.”  I’m working on “better,” while resting in “honest.”  Take me or leave me... glasses and s'mores on my face and all.

So how do we navigate the road between hiding our crazy and scaring people off with our freak flag  (especially if you're someone who would like to find a spouse or some friends)?  Stay tuned for part 2…

one sure step: how a marathon begins.

When I go hiking with people who are new to it, I often say to them, "every step a sure step."  Meaning take your time, get your foot set in a good place, and then take the next step in the same way. It prevents many unnecessary falls, hurts, and backsliding.  It ensures healthy, solid forward motion, one step at a time.

This sentiment has been echoing throughout blogs and books I've read, Bible studies I've attended, and guidance I've sought out in the past week.  I'm beginning to get a clear picture of my newest goal--simply taking one intentional step.

I'm a big change kind of gal.  I want to do something major.  Funky colors in my hair.  Write an album's worth of songs.  Make banners for every week of Lent and each Holy Week service (but seriously..what was I thinking?).  Become an expert at all that I scratch on the surface.  When asked how I can work on myself, I give a list of 10 things I'm starting immediately.  This is me.   I won't always jump, but when I do, I run, leap, twist in the air, and cannonball into whatever it is, expecting to make the tidal wave splash.

I want to win the marathon as soon as I cross the starting line.  I struggle with the single steps.

If you're anything like me, you can get hung up on the fact that life isn't perfect.  When things are hard, out of sync, or even feel broken for me, I follow one of two tendencies (usually one, then the other).

1.) I wallow thinking all is lost.

"This thing sucks.  He hurt me.  She is so difficult to deal with.  This isn't working.  I'm not where I want to be.  I don't know what to do."  Sound familiar?  Maybe it's just me.  I struggle to turn off the reruns of my life's worst clips.  I have to put up mental stop signs and not allow myself to go there anymore.  I have to ask God to show me all the blessings He's given me and to fill me with gratitude.  Choosing not to wallow is difficult sometimes, but choosing to continuing wallowing is, by no means, what Jesus had in mind for our "life to the full."

2.) Scrap it all and start over!

Then, I pendulum swing.  I make some bold proclamation followed by a bold step.  Usually it doesn't last for too long, but actually, usually shifts me just enough to accomplish jarring me out of my wallowing funk.  I try to be super intentional and make a big change, but that's the problem.  Gym memberships go half used.  Books are left read a quarter of the way through.  Healthy food spoils.  The scope has been way too broad for me to be successful.  I wind up feeling frustrated with a diminished sense of self-efficacy.  "Welp...guess I can't fix it, so I'll just ignore it or go back to being bummed about it."

But God is teaching me about small steps.  Well, even a singular "step."  One step taken with purpose.  One step to grow in my relationship with the Lord.  Then one change to be more healthy.  Then one action toward better boundaries.  Then one step to grow in community.  Being intentional one step at a time not only keeps us from ending up somewhere we didn't want to be without us realizing it, but it takes us somewhere better than where we are.  Bit by bit.  Because small steps are sure steps, that encourage forward motion without fear of backsliding or failure.  Not many have energy to overhaul their life every time something feels off.  Small steps are manageable and grace filled.  We can win at them and victory spurs us on to take another.

I adore St. Francis of Assisi who said this: "Start by doing what is necessary, then what is possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible."

That resonates with my "go big or go home" attitude. :-)  That's the power of taking a hike full of sure steps.  Asking God to shape us one small adjustment at a time, takes us to a totally different world that we never thought we could actually reach.

Small steps have revitalized me and given me hope to believe I can make positive change in my story.  To feel more focused, more healthy, more free with each drop of my heel is invigorating.  I know I will require much grace for this less than expedited process, but I trust and believe that everything God grows takes time.  Growth is slow, but somehow so riveting.  Even though you never see the exact moments of movement, growth is measured over time and the beauty that unfolds is well worth the wait.

I know that I'm just starting the marathon of intentional steps I want to take in my story, but I'm learning that I can't finish a marathon without taking that first sure step.

"3 reasons why you must guard your heart" : a blog from Michael Hyatt.

I recently came across this blog post from Michael Hyatt, who is a guru in the realm of leadership and who recently published a book called "Platform" that is making quite a splash.

This blog post, however, brings such humility, humanity, and reality to this big named leader.  Someone with years of experience and who has seen favor throughout his career, points out the incredible importance of the heart.  It just might be one of the most truth-filled and important things I've read in awhile.

Enjoy.

http://michaelhyatt.com/three-reasons-why-you-must-guard-your-heart.html