I found who I am in the seemingly small.
When my prayers run deep,
I am found.
Who are you?
trusting God
On falling and getting up
If I’m going to fall, can I please fall hard and hit my head?
Can there be concussion and bruising so I don’t look like a fool?
Can I rest in the “okay-ness” of my weakness?
If I do, do I have to wait for a diagnosis?
Fallen, in need of grace?
Can’t we just be human?
Wake up sleepers
Wake up church!
In the land of the living, an anchor holds
And we get to reveal it and show it to the masses
That’s enough
Love is enough
We can kick and claw and scream at the wind
We can cry behind closed doors
But we can’t stop reaching
For real love!
THAT is the anchor
Nails and thorns and mercy on a cross
And death giving way to victory
Who are you?
Who does He say I am?
Where is victory?
Can you see it today?
If not, look again.
It’s worth fighting for!
Time…in a bottle…or not…
Time is a funny thing.
It flies
It pauses
It groans for tomorrow
It longs for yesterday
It moves
In waves
While the world continues, as it seemingly stops for some
But it is.
Time is
And we grovel at it’s feet
And we wonder where the break pedal is
And we clasp onto what we can hold
And we long for bricks to put on top our children’s heads to stop the growth
All the while praying they will grow, healthy and strong, and prepared for tomorrow
I watch you grow and I beg for it to stop and continue while I sit like an Alanis Morissette lyric, contracting truths against each other.
And we grow and move
And live and have our being in the moment
Sweaters on backward and inside out and all
Until we feel the most of a new day
And breathe
Deep
Because today is wrapped in tomorrow and yesterday at once
And I am you and you are me together, bracing for the impact
Life is more than we see
Life is wrapped in the endless toil of a day well lived, and a tomorrow, begging for something
Whatever that may be
My tomorrow is different from yours
But it’s the same
The hand of God, making meaning, while we go
And that’s enough
At the end of the day, it’s enough
Forward motion makes for meaning
So RUN!
Then look at yesterday and today and smile
Knowing tomorrow is breath
And we’re all running
In the Morning …Running with what you’ve got
So, my mornings are always morning before morning should be allowed
I’m not a morning person…working on this…
But in anticipation of tomorrow, I plan.
I pack lunchboxes and clean and lie clean clothes on racks and hooks, and find shoes lost by minions (small people I’m charged to raise)
But, unfortunately, sometimes I dread the day ahead.
I’m not proud of it.
And I think if His mercies new every morning and the blessing of parenthood and employment and a life well lived.
But in reality, I go to bed knowing my alarm will sound the horror bell of having to wake up when I want to sleep.
Still, there’s a blessing when the coffee and the day kick in.
When sunlight brings possibilities that I haven’t imagined.
So I ride before the sun and do it again and again.
This life doesn’t have to be brilliant or awesome in the light of day but it has to continue to bring meaning.
So today leads to tomorrow and every moment, even the mundane, leads to greatness.
Will I be remembered for the lunches I pack and the jokes I wrote in sharpie on ziplock? Probably not. But will I be remembered for my perseverance and strength? I hope so.
Wake up tomorrow and do it again.
Just go!
One foot in front of the next, in excellence. It’s all anyone can ask and it’s more than enough.
Two cents from the routine.
Two cents to manufacture a million. Just RUN!
Glorious
What makes glorious life?
When pen and plight, too numb, collide
What beauty permeates stone?
Till I, in He, resound alone.
We talk, so often of death and pain
Yet forget the living
And here I stand with arms, waiting for direction, aiming for the target I cannot see
Or maybe I can…
Or maybe I am hesitant to step, without seeing where my feet will land
Either way, pen in hand, write my story.
I’ll go
Who am I?
If I were a mere mortal in the land of the living
You know that place where truth and grace collide
And the maker of heaven called me beautiful in spite of my ugly
And I set out to show the world the immensity of glory
And the rug beneath me failed to hold the weight
And the ground shook at the sound of Your voice
And I am me and you are infinite
What can I offer?
A prayer to the God who sees
A song to the voice of the mute
I am a disabled veteran in the land of the living
No claim to fame just a life sacrificed at the altar of service
And in my case, badly offered
Bruised and unworthy
But still showing up
Still fighting
Still ready to stand and say it’s all worth it
Bring it on world, I’m here standing on weak knees, ready for tomorrow
Warrior with broken feet…standing on hope.
Wake me up!
The embrace of more than time
When time stops do you feel it?
Is there a moment when everything is okay and the world is right and stands the test of time?
Or do we wait, with hunger, for another moment?
Maybe that’s the beauty.
Maybe the hunger fuels the fire for tomorrow.
I don’t know. I’m just you, reaching into the void, waiting for the voice of God to smile on my weakness.
Maybe clay cries out to potter longing for completion.
But the journey is worth the wait. So I’ll stand in the light, knowing the dawn is brighter.
And I wait because you’ve always met me there.
Nothing becomes something beautiful in your embrace. Sometimes it just takes a minute for me to catch up.
Dreamer…sleeping or awake?
I was once a dreamer of big dreams.
I still am
I once sat imagining all I could be.
I still do…sometimes.
And in the midst of who I was and who I am, I find this amazing dichotomy.
I’m not less than I was when the world was rose-colored.
I’ve faced giants no one saw coming.
But I’m here…
And I’m breathing.
I fight against non-existent clocks and existential realities until I’m numb and clocking in and clocking out.
But I am more.
I know it. Maybe you don’t.
Who plants the sun in its station?
Who holds the earth in orbit?
Who called me “more” when I was dust?
You are my audience and I clamor for applause while all you wanted was willingness.
So here I am.
Breath and bones in twilight.
Take my everything and make it meaningful.
Me and whatever that means
Me..:a construct for the ages
An anomaly for the masses
Another constructed being in the realm of space and time to be constructed from dust
But I believe in design so your construct is nothing. So am I meaningless?
I’ve said “construct” too much
If I do not reach do my hands hold meaning?
If I don’t ache am I still bleeding?
If I don’t yield am I an endless void?
If I’m not here does the world notice?
I am space constructed from endless light.
I am more than yesterday and today and tonight.
I’m not void in the darkness
I’m just the kind of light that can start a spark.
Believe in me and let’s begin tomorrow.
Two cents for the hurting and blubbering worship leaders
I’ve done a lot of research lately. Call it the consequences of a lifelong nerd falling down a rabbit hole. Alice would be proud!
An almost lifelong friend recently “deconstructed” from the Christian faith. I have a lifetime invested in this faith, part of which, I walked along side this friend…closely. So I wondered…
What causes someone to give up a lifetime for a new lifetime? Is there anything that would possibly convince me to walk away? What reasons, what heartache, what analytical study, what abuse, would separate life from life and truth from truth?
For me, the answer is nothing. I’ve firmly established my convictions and beliefs and cannot be persuaded of anything contrary. But I get it. I really do.
I despise spiritual abuse! It is abhorrent! And I believe a Jesus would be in the midst of it with chords turning tables and agreeing with me. There is no excuse. I despise the notion that anything, power, ministry, or money, could be more important than the rights of a victim! There is no excuse.
But this does not disqualify the gospel. And there are far too many thoughts swirling in my brain tonight to make this fully cohesive.
For tonight, I will say that I’ve seen multiple posts surrounding the idea of Christian worship that are grating at me. I’ve been leading worship over half of my life so this inherently bothers me.
They say that worship music is manipulation preying on the emotional response of the congregant. That the music is derived in such a way as to inherently initiate an emotive response and is, therefore, manipulative by nature.
I take issue with this on multiple levels but tonight let me give you an experiential example.
Yes, music is moving. Music speaks to the soul. No one can deny this. Why it is supposedly wrong to incorporate this with our faith traditions is lost on me. Even in scripture, Saul calls for a musician to soothe him. The musicians went into battle before the army. There is precedented truth to the power of music to inspire and transform. Why is that wrong?
The criticism is that worship music inherently coerces an emotional response and we, worship leaders, manipulate with chords and progressions designed to elicit said response from the hearer.
I couldn’t help but think of a moment in our worship services this past Sunday when we sang the song, “Hymn of Heaven”. The lyric to the second verse says, “And every prayer we prayed in desperation. The songs of faith we sang through doubt and fear. In the end, we’ll see that it was worth it. When He returns to wipe away our tears”
For reference, I was on stage performing this song. So don’t think for a moment I wasn’t involved? But, in the moment, I wasn’t feeling the emotional resonance of chord structure and performance. I was caught up in the lyrics, the truth of my life this year and the prayers “I’ve prayed in desperation”, and the “songs of faith I’ve sang through doubt and fears.” And the beauty of what God has done in my life recently.
I lead/backup vocal worship almost every week of my life for the last 30 years and this few months, I found myself reaching for life at the wellspring of hope because life isn’t easy. You don’t know my journey, but if you did…
We aren’t immune to suffering.we aren’t promised tulips and roses.
Sometimes we get prayers of desperation. Sometimes, there isn’t sense to be made of the chaos. And my full story is a song for another blog post…
But as I sang this song from the stage on Sunday (along with others equally as beautiful and impactful), tears filled my eyes and I had to be “that girl” on the church’s livestream pulling myself together while my tears fell.
Because if it weren’t for the gospel…
If it weren’t for truth…
If it weren’t worth it…
I wouldn’t be here.
Someday I will share the whole story. Someday, I will explain but for now…I hear the naysayers calling “manipulation” and I praise God above that He is REAL!!! He is TRUTH! And He is enough for me.
I’m truly sorry for the voices lost to spiritual abuse. My heart breaks for you more than I can express but I please don’t judge God on the horrible injustices of people who call themselves his. Find Him. Reconstruct to the true and loving God who is so infinitely valuable and faithful!
Two cents for the hurting…how can I help? I’m listening.
INSPIRED BY THE COMFORTER 