from the overflow

Last week, I was visiting with my pastor and my upcoming trip to Alabama was mentioned.  He asked, "Now, tell me again who you're going to see?"  I smiled as I thought through the list, then began to explain, but before I got very far, he stopped me. "Never mind, I've know.  You're going to see amazing person x with whom you have an amazing relationship, and they do fill in the blank with amazing godly thing."  I had to laugh because he was kind of correct.

Last Friday, I got in a car with some of my favorite Fort Worth girls (shout out to Erin, Erika, and Ashleigh!) and drove to Birmingham where we picked Mel up from the airport and rendezvoused with Steph who was driving down from Nashville.  From the airport, we drove to meet Joel in the parking lot of the church where he's been serving as youth minister for the last two and a half years.  Joel had Josh with him.  Josh and Esther (and baby Noah) drove in from Jacksonville, Florida where they minister to youth as well.  The surprise attendee to our family family reunion was waiting for us at Joel's parents lake house.  Danny, a naval officer stationed in San Diego, found out at the last minute he was going to get to come.  Finally, Joel and I made a second trip that evening to the airport for Army officer Jarrod and his wife Dawn, flying in from Virginia.  It was just after midnight before the 14 of us were all under one roof for the first time in years.  What a delight!  We spent the next twenty four hours simply enjoying the pleasure of being close.  We sat on the deck or the pier and talked lazily, catching up.  We grilled hot dogs, watched football then baseball, played cards, took walks, and had our traditional breakfast for dinner meal.  Saturday night, in the girls' room, we lay awake giggling far too long.  And, early Sunday morning, we parted ways.  We hope to do it again next year, and that hope made the parting a little easier.

From the lake house, I went on to spend a couple of extra days in Hayden, Alabama with a different set of friends.  Jeremy and Jodi (and Emma and Abbi) were spectacular hosts.  It is difficult for me to describe the depth of my affection for this family.  Earlier this week, I summarized my relationship to them by saying that Jeremy was the first person I ever had to seriously talk out of punching someone on my behalf and I'm pretty sure Jodi was right behind him.  I seriously didn't want punches thrown, but it felt really incredible to know there were people with that sort of protective loyalty for me.  Jeremy has served as friend, mentor, counselor, and tutor.  Jodi is the consummate girls' girl.  She's wise and kind and hospitable.  She's a patient listener and has a gift for getting to the heart of a matter.  She's a treasure!  And, for two days this week, I soaked up their friendship.

And, while I was away, enjoying these "amazing" people, I realized something else.  I have a whole host of amazing people right here in Fort Worth I was really eager to get back to.  I love my church family so very much.  They are so funny and kind and eager to serve.  I feel rich when I'm with them.  I love my work family, too. They are quirky and outrageous and generous and gifted in such unique ways.  I have so much to learn from them.  And, I love my family.  The ones related to me by blood.  I didn't have much time to talk with them while I was gone, and I loved hearing my dad's voice on the phone today.  I'm looking forward to talking with my mom tomorrow.  I am eager to catch up with my cousins and see my grandmother, too.  

Today, I got home from work, and I was alone in my apartment, and my heart was so full of all these thoughts I thought I might need to go run around the building.  I posed the question on facebook, "When your heart is full, what do you do with the overflow?"  My answer is, I blog.  

#SparkLA2010 Spark Team

I decided to do a separate post about the team itself.  Serving with this team of women was perhaps the most surprising joy of the weekend.  We were the epitome of variety.  20 year old college students, 74 year old great-grandmothers, North Dallas socialites, working moms who picked up extra jobs to pay their way, nurses, paralegals, social workers, stay-at-home moms, p.e. coaches, and ex-cons.  You name it, we probably had it!  But, the one thing you would not find numbered among us was a princess.  (Even I left my tiara at home on this trip!)  I watched these women serve tirelessly, kindly, generously -- at Hope Gardens, on the bus, in the hotel.  They consistently looked for ways to bless whoever was within reach.  It struck me the morning we got to the ranch and there were boxes that had to be carried up a long path.  They fought for the opportunity to carry a box.  Then, that same day, the wind was blowing our screen over, and Linda volunteered to sit behind the screen and hold it steady throughout our session.  I smiled because I realized she was grateful for the opportunity to serve and because I knew any one of us would have gladly traded places with her.

At every meal, every bus ride, and on the planes, I had the opportunity to get to know different members of this remarkable team.  I met Jolie, a fashion merchandising student from Baylor, on her second Spark Trip.  She was traveling with her mom and her sister, and she'd recruited two of her college roommates and their moms, too.  I met, Sharon, a p.e. teacher and coach's wife from Abilene, on her second trip as well.  She rescued me from having to use the helium tank to blow up balloons, and she let me snuggle up next to her when I couldn't stop shivering around the camp fire.  I met, Sherry, the wife of a minister who was very influential in encouraging God's gifting and calling in my life when I was a high school student.  I sat next to Carrie, a Premier jeweler from Kansas City who heard about the trip in September and decided to fly out and see for herself what all the fuss was about.  She brought her coworker, Janet from San Diego as well.  I met Allison, a pastor's wife, and her friends Beverly and Nancy.  They were there to check things out so that they could recruit women from their church to anchor the next Spark trip to Orlando this coming February.  I met Sue, an incredibly organized and talented cook who worked for hours on her feet preparing incredible meals for all of us.  I met Linda, a librarian from Plano, a grandmother with a heart of gold.  I met Cindy, an ex-con who wants to go to seminary.  I met Jennifer, a paralegal who moonlights as a photographer.  I met Stacy, a minister to person's with special needs with a gift for running sound equipment.  I met Sandra, a life coach with a single son who lives in Alaska. :-)  I met Ms. June, who shared her testimony about how God has become a husband to her since her own husband was tragically shot five years ago.  I met Julie, who is allowing God to heal her broken heart after addiction held her captive for years.  I met Amanda, who bravely told her story of shame and grace and repentance.  I met Kathryn, a brand new believer already learning how to serve.  And on and on and on ...

Each and every one of these women with a story and a heart to let the Lord use her however He sees fit.  It was the most beautiful picture of the Body of Christ I have yet to experience.  

#SparkLA2010 Day Four

Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!

How do I even begin to describe Sunday?

The food team went ahead of us, preparing a beautiful brunch for all of us.  The decorations team transformed our meeting room into a lovely banqueting place.  The women arrived, joyful, open, ready to receive whatever we had for them, faces glowing.  It was a complete transformation from the women we'd met first on Thursday.

As I looked at the extravagance around me, I began to pray earnestly that each of them would understand what it was all about.  It wasn't about our love for them, we hardly knew them.  I was desperate for them to understand that all of this, all we'd done for them all weekend long was but a picture of the extravagant love God has for them, the grace He lavishes upon them.

Our musical worship that morning was powerful.  The message of the Lord's Prayer woven with songs and testimony was undeniably annointed.  And, then we moved into our final small group time.  I asked them one question, "Tell me what you will remember about this weekend, a year from now when you've forgotten our names, what will you remember about this time we've had together?"  I was terrified that they'd say something about the gifts or the decorations or the silly games.

Juana went first.  "I will remember that yesterday, I gave my heart to Jesus."  And I cried because I realized at least one of them had gotten it.  Maria was next.  "I know that God wants to have a relationship with me, and it is time for me to draw near to Him."  Yesss!  I cried some more.  Edith told us, "I am beginning to believe that it's possible for someone to love me without wanting something from me, that there is a genuine Love out there."  More tears.  Amanda, one of our senior adults, shared that she would remember the hugs, that she really appreciated the physical touch of love we'd brought with us, and she considered that to be God's gift to her throughout the weekend.  My heart cracked.  At this point, there were two others still sharing, but Vanessa, who'd told me she didn't really do this church stuff, reached over and linked her arm through mine and lay her head on my shoulder.  When it was finally her turn she simply said, "I guess I've learned that maybe this God stuff is worth a try.  Maybe He is real."  I'll take it!

Our final act of service for the women was to put all of them in a circle and wrap a fleece blanket around their shoulders and pray over them.  It was joyful and tearful and simply beautiful.  I could think of no better way to release them.

#SparkLA2010 Day Three

Saturday morning, I sat up in bed and swung my legs over the side and stood up quickly, and suddenly realized I was virtually pain free.  There was still a twinge of pain here and there, but the constant throbbing spasm was gone, and I rejoiced!

On our way up into the mountains, I prayed that our ladies would meet the Mountain Mover.  Saturday was a great opportunity for us to get them away from their familiar environment, to leave their children with caregivers, and to really just pour into them without distraction.  We did crafts, then began a silly series of relay games, as a seasonally uncharacteristic rain began to fall.  It was the strangest thing.  There was blue sky all around us, but right over us, a large gray cloud camped, unmoving.  So, we gathered under some trees and began to just sing and laugh and wait.  We took down and set up sound equipment and towel dried chairs three times before the rain finally cleared and we were able to carry on with our plans.

The first thing we did was set the chairs up in a circle, with a second inner circle of chairs turned to face the outer circle.  Hope Gardens ladies sat on the outside with Spark ladies facing them.  We took out hand lotion and began to massage their hands as an act of service and an opportunity to visit with and pray for them individually.  Their surprise and delight was so much fun to see as they realized what we were doing.  A few ladies had their nails painted, and others received back/neck massages, too.  It was a great time.  Session 2 followed with singing and teaching from Psalm 139 and a testimony from one of our team members, a formerly incarcerated felon who is now living for and serving Jesus in Reno, NV.  Cindy's testimony was like a glue that pulled everything we'd been doing all weekend together.  Suddenly, we weren't just a bunch of crazy rich ladies in pink, we were women with stories of how God had delivered us through circumstances every bit as dark or difficult as theirs.

Our small group discussion that afternoon centered on God's grace and the importance of our obedience to His commandments, not because it earned us salvation but because it was our response to His great love for us.  The women shared from their various experiences, some having walked far with the Lord and others having walked far from Him.  One young girl told us, "I just don't really do this church thing."  And another gave her heart to the Lord that same day.  Mountains were definitely beginning to shift.

We closed out that great day with s'mores over a campfire and began to turn our hearts and thoughts toward our final times together on Sunday.

#SparkLA2010 Day Two

I woke up Friday morning still in a great deal of pain.  I moved slowly and carefully as I dressed and went downstairs to breakfast.  I repeated my request for prayers to friends back home.  Through prayer and through friends, the Lord repeatedly reminded me that He could change my circumstances or He could change me with the grace to endure them.  I was completely confident He would relieve me of that pain when He saw fit, and until such a time, I was determined to enjoy my day with the ladies of Hope Gardens.

My prayer for the ladies that day was that God would "show off."  I wanted Him to make His presence known to them and to us in grand and precious ways.  We lost cell service once we arrived at Hope Gardens each day, but the last "tweet" I saw before getting off the bus was a verse from Psalm 81 that says, "I am the Lord your God who brought you out of Egypt, open wide your mouth and I will fill it."  I had to smile as I remembered all the times the Lord has been faithful to "show off" with His extravagant love and grace.

As we pulled up to Hope Gardens, we had to laugh.  Right in front of the admin building sat several residents in pink Spark t-shirts smoking cigarettes and waiting for us to arrive.  It was a beautiful (and comical) sight!  That morning, we gave the ladies their folders for the weekend and divided them into teams, carefully fixing things so that our previously identified Spanish speakers all ended up in group "S". We were given supplies to decorate a team flag and about 20 minutes to come up with a team name and cheer.  It was quickly decided that we would be the "Super Sonadoras" (Super Dreamers) and our cheer was something hoping in Christ and jumping with Jesus.  Our cheer was a disaster, but we had so much fun making it up and performing it, nobody seemed to care.  Our ladies bonded quickly over their shared language barrier and seemed thrilled that Spark had brought 4 teammates who could communicate with them.

After lunch, we had our first worship time.  The spiritual battle in that room was almost unreal.  Women were coming and going throughout the music time, staff walkie-talkies sounding off, babies crying, and then Patti got up to teach and basically went temporarily blind, having to stop mid-thought, ask for more lighting, and take time out to pray again and settle into the lesson.  It was bizarre.  She presented a beautiful lesson to our ladies about the love of God and his care for them based out of Psalm 91.  And, then we had our first serious small group time.  Only four of our ladies stayed for the small group discussion, but their sharing was full of transparency, and I began to really long for each of them to encounter Jesus in a fresh way through our time together.  As we talked about the love of God and His unchanging nature despite all our shortcomings, I heard myself saying to the ladies, "You know, God has the power to change our circumstances, and sometimes, that's His way, but more often, it's His desire to change us through our circumstances."  I had to smile as I thought about the pain in my back and the grace (and Motrin!) He'd provided me throughout the day.

At dinner that night, I sat alone with a woman named Maria.  She shared with me about her two young children, and the poor relationship decisions she'd made that brought her to Hope Gardens, not just once but twice.  And, she mentioned at least two other shelters she'd been in previously.  Then, she dropped the real bomb on me.  She was 32 years old -- the age I'd just turned the day before.  The reality of her life nearly broke my heart.  I listened and affirmed the good choices she's made recently, but I went away with a heavy heart.

Friday night was reserved for "Sparky's Rootin' Tootin' Stampede", a variety show made up of skits put on by various Spark team members as well as some Hope Gardens residents.  Our first hurdle, though, was attempting to translate "Rootin' Tootin'"!  We had a big laugh over that one!

By the time we got on the bus that night, I was beginning to experience some relief from the pain in my back, and I slept really well that night.  This was a very good thing, since we were scheduled to spend nearly 2 hours on the bus Saturday morning heading to the Wrightwood Guest Ranch in the nearby mountains.

#SparkLA2010 Day One

I didn't plan to go on this Spark trip.  Even though I had an amazing time in Longview on last year's trip, October is a really bad time for me to be out of town, and I determinedly ignored the repeated email invitations I received to join this year's trip to Hope Gardens Family Center in Los Angeles.  Then, one morning in mid-September, I received a voicemail from Spark's founder, Molly Breitenfeld, telling me she'd been thinking of and praying for me and asking if I'd consider going to L.A. to lead a bilingual small group during the retreat weekend.  This piqued my interest.  A month later, I found myself boarding a plane with nearly 50 other women (there would be 53 total on our team) bound for Los Angeles.

We arrived mid-morning, ate a quick lunch at the hotel, dropped our stuff, and headed to Hope Gardens for "Sparky's Rockin' Rodeo" -- a night of outrageous fun designed for the mom's and their children.  Spark Ministry functions in teams.  We have prayer team, kitchen team, decorations team, gifts team, etc.  The Rodeo Team outdid themselves -- clowns, balloon animals, bounce houses, cotton candy (which I had up to my sleeves before I learned how to use the machine like a pro!), popcorn, snowcones, hot dogs, photo booths, stick ponies, line dancing, etc.  One of the case managers from Hope Gardens referred to us throughout the weekend as "Fun in a Box" and it was never more true than that first night.  We ended the evening with an important Spark tradition, "Spark in the Dark" where we turn out all the lights in a large room, pass out all kinds of glow in the dark toys, and turn up the dance music.  So. Much. Fun.

As we were putting stuff away that night and preparing for the next day, I hopped on the back of a golf cart and rode to the top of a bumpy hill.  I was fine when I got on the cart, but couldn't even stand up straight when I got off of it due to intense pain in my lower back.  It was frightening.  On the bus, my roommate for the weekend, who also happens to be a nurse, handed me some ibuprofen with water, and told me to sit still.  She carried my bag inside for me, and began the process of getting us checked into the hotel.

We had been assigned to a room with two other women, four of us total, sharing two double beds.  I was so tired and in so much pain and all I could think was, "we'll never get any sleep that way."  When we went back up to the front desk to inquire about the possibility of getting a room to ourselves, the lady initially told us the rate would be significantly higher since we would be out from under the Spark group rate, but she would check anyway.  When I gave her my name, she said, "Well, we already have a room reserved for you that nobody has checked into yet."  She rattled off a list of names that were supposed to be our roommates, and we said, "No, that's our small group."  She looked back and said, "Miss Horton, this room is here, under your name, with your group rate, and nobody else is claiming it."  I didn't argue any longer.  We took the keys and headed up the stairs - grateful beyond belief.  My sweet roommate spent some time massaging my aching back with muscle rub before we went to sleep, and I prayed fervently that I'd feel better in the morning ...

Jesus Saves

While God is infinitely creative expressions of grace, Satan is pitifully unimaginative in his ongoing attempts to mitigate the power of the Gospel in my life.  It struck me as sadly comical tonight as I was preparing for my latest adventure with Spark Ministry.  As I folded clothes and gathered toiletries and laid out travel documents, my thoughts were full of the same old doubts and inadequacies and self- ... well, just self.  Bluch!  It's such a frequent thought loop, you'd think I'd be onto his game by now, but unfortunately, I am a slow learner at times.

About the time I was ready to despair, a familiar song came to mind.  The words and melody swirling their way over all my foolish thinking.  Shane & Shane's "Embracing Accusation" ... Could the father of lies be telling the truth to me tonight?  ... Oh, the Devil's singing over me an age old song, That I am cursed and gone astray ... Singing the first verse so conveniently over me ... He's forgotten the refrain ... JESUS SAVES!


It's so true.  Those negative thoughts in my head are powerful because on some level they are all true.  I'm a mess.  I'm totally inadequate and ill-prepared and likely to fail epically on my own.  The problem is, those are only half-truths.  The bigger Truth is what really matters.  I am not on my own.  He who called me is faithful.  It is God who works in me both to will and to act according to His good pleasure.  He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it.  Jesus saves!  That's the power of the Gospel.

May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen. 

Hebrews 13:20-21

Temper Tantrums

Have you ever seen a two year old get startled in the middle of a full on belligerent temper tantrum?  Picture her: face down, kicking and screaming at the feet of a loving and patient parent determined to wait her out when suddenly something frightens her.  Perhaps it's a big dog or a scary clown or a loud noise.  Whatever it is, she goes from all out fit of defiance to whimpering in that parent's arms in 2 seconds flat.

I sat through a four-hour long meeting today with 8 of my favorite CWJC/CMJC colleagues.  We laughed and teased and worked and hashed out details for upcoming events and made decisions about endowment scholarships.  And, then, as we prepared to close our time together in prayer, one of our colleagues choked out the news that the phone call she'd taken just before our lunch break was her doctor and the word was "malignant."  Suddenly, nothing we had done together all day long seemed to mean anything as we absorbed the impact of our friend's news.

As we encircled her, laying hands on her, crying with her, and praying with all our might for God to comfort, sustain, and HEAL, the lump in my own throat was huge.  I was hurting for my friend.  I was imagining what her 18 year old only child was feeling.

This afternoon, I'm thinking about perspective.  I'm thinking about how many things suddenly meant absolutely nothing in light of the battle my dear friend faces.  I'm thinking how quickly life changes.

I'm also thinking about how foolishly I've been living lately, trudging through my days in prayerlessness, doing my best to teach God a lesson in my silence, my spiritual temper tantrum.  It's so stupid that I can hardly find words to tell you about it.  But, what's ironic to me is that today, when the news was serious and it was bad and it was not what I wanted to hear and definitely not what I would choose, I didn't hesitate to jump into His arms and hold on for dear life.

I'm reminded of John 6, when following Jesus started to get a little tougher for the masses, and many of His disciples began to desert Him, Jesus looked at the 12 and said, "Do you want to leave me, too?" but Peter answers, "Where else would we go?  You have the words of eternal life."

As I absorbed news of my friend's cancer today, my instinct was not to run further from the Lord or to fight harder against Him or look for a new Source, but to run full force into the strong tower of His sovereign goodness.  Today, I don't care about the things I don't understand as much as I long to rest in the one sure thing I know.

  At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.

Titus 3:3-7

No Shifting Shadows

I was joking with a friend a few weeks ago that I think I have a crush on my neighborhood Walgreens.  It’s just so good to me, makes my life so much easier, and always has a surprise for me when we meet.  This week, however, I think I may have found a serious contender for my affections in Half-Price Books.  I get giddy just approaching the door!  I could spend hours exploring all manner of subjects and never run out of things to discuss.  And, talk about surprises!  I never ever leave there disappointed.  This week, Half-Price was especially good to me.  There was a wonderful new journal covered in brightly colored butterflies (mariposas) that might as well have had my name on it, like it knew the time had come for me to start a fresh book of blank pages.  Next, I went right to the novel I was hoping to find, and as a bonus, found the sequel tucked away on the clearance shelf for just a dollar!  And, for those nights when I just don’t feel like writing or reading, there was Season 1 of ER just waiting to entertain me.  It doesn’t hurt Half-Price’s chances in the competition for my affections that Bueno is close by, either. 

Of course it’s silly to have a crush on or feel romanced by a pharmacy or a bookstore.  I know this.  But, it is great fun to find such delight in such simple pleasures.  And, ultimately, I am reminded that “every good and perfect gift comes down from above, from the Father of lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” (James 1:17) 

This week, I’ve had a lot of conversations with God that have started out with, “But what about …?”  Questions I just don’t have answers to right now.  Tonight, as I came home with all my simple pleasures and drew a bubble bath, I was reminded of this post from earlier this year.  And, it was as if the Lord said to me, “Kristen, it’s still Me, the One who took great joy in delighting you on that day, in working all the little things together for your good.  I am He.  I am the One providing for this day, too.  I have not changed.  I am every bit as committed to your good.”  I’m pretty sure a deep sigh escaped me as I let that truth roll over my mind and quiet all my questions.  

The Endless Supply

This morning, like most days, I have song lyrics stuck in my head.  What gets stuck in my thought loop varies widely from day to day, but some times, it does me well to pay attention to what's there.  This morning, I find myself humming "I am weary, but I know Your touch restores my life" from the song Hungry.  -- Well, actually, prior to googling the correct lyrics, what I was singing was, "I am weary, but I know Your love does not run dry."  I'm cool and mix verses like that sometimes. --  I have a point, and I'm getting to it, promise.

Just before I got out of my car this morning, I heard Chris Tomlin's Everlasting God on the radio and couldn't help but focus again on the line that says "You won't grow weary."  And, for a month now at least, I've been listening to Matt Redman's You Alone Can Rescue which has two different lines I really love.  The first says, "Our shame was deeper than the sea, Your grace is deeper still," and the second says, " When our hearts were far away, your love goes further still."

So, putting all of these ideas together, here's my point. God's got an endless supply of all that we need.  When I'm weary, His is the touch that empowers me to keep going, gives me life.  When I'm empty, His is a love source that does not run dry.  When I'm at the end of me, He does not get weary.  (That one still baffles me!)  His grace far exceeds my shame.  His love will always outrun my rebellious heart.

Psalm 139:5, "You hem me in before and behind - You have laid your hand upon me." 

Lessons from the Altar

^{Genesis 22:9} When they reached the place God had told him about, Abraham built an altar there and arranged the wood on it. He bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. ¹⁰ Then he reached out his hand and took the knife to slay his son. ¹¹ But the angel of the LORD called out to him from heaven, "Abraham! Abraham!" "Here I am," he replied. ¹² "Do not lay a hand on the boy," he said. "Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son."

Hebrews 11: ¹⁷By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had received the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son, ¹⁸even though God had said to him, "It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned." ¹⁹Abraham reasoned that God could raise the dead, and figuratively speaking, he did receive Isaac back from death.

It is not often that I get to experience the agony of laying something I prize on a sacrificial altar. I’ve come to realize there simply are not that many things in my life I cling to with such a fervor that releasing them would equal sacrifice.  Recently, however, I’ve had that opportunity.  After wrestling for far too long with something very valuable to me, I laid it down.  And, I’ve learned just a few things already in the process of surrender.

First, while I could have told you all day long that Jesus is enough, it’s entirely different to make that claim when your hands are still full.  There’s nothing like the moment you let go of all your other prizes and realize He is still enough. Jonah 2:8 says it like this, "Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs." 

Second, there is great comfort in the character of God.  Sacrifice hurts.   But, there is great comfort in knowing that He is good.  And, He is trustworthy.  He does not call me to painful choices without grand purposes.  I am resting in His good character.  As David Platt says, “God’s sovereignty is our safety.”

Finally, the fear of the Lord means that all other fears must bow to my desire to please Him.  All the wrestling with and clinging to the things I must ultimately lay down comes from a fear of things other than the Lord.  Scripture is replete with promises for those who fear the Lord, and I want to be someone who can claim those promises. When Abraham laid Isaac on that altar, God said, “Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from Me your son, your only son.”

I hope I will not sound heretical if I hypothesize for a moment.  Based solely on my own experience, I do wonder if Abraham’s experience at the altar was not so that God would know for sure where Abraham’s allegiance lay, as much as it was for Abraham to know.  I suspect the Omniscient knew Abraham’s heart, just as I am confident He knows mine.  It is unlikely to me that God learned anything new at that altar.  But, Abraham?  Abraham was probably still unpacking the lessons from that altar on his dying day. 

Romans 4: ²⁰Yet [Abraham] did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, ²¹being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised. ²²This is why "it was credited to him as righteousness." ²³The words "it was credited to him" were written not for him alone,²⁴but also for us, to whom God will credit righteousness—for us who believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead.

How Are You Living?

We’re living like [God]’s sovereign over all things and loves us deeply as His children. - Matt Chandler

I heard this today, and I was immediately fascinated by the thought, “What does it look like to live like that?”  Am I living like God is sovereign over all things and He loves me deeply as His daughter? 

The combination of realities is so poignant.  God’s sovereignty all by itself can be terrifying, often leaving me feeling helpless and confused.  But God’s sovereignty combined with his prodigious love toward me?  That takes my breath away.  That soothes every ache and calms every fear.  That is the very best kind of news.   It changes everything. 

I Know the Peace Maker

³⁵That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, "Let us go over to the other side." ³⁶Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. ³⁷A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. ³⁸Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?"  ³⁹He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, "Quiet! Be still!" Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. ⁴⁰He said to his disciples, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" ⁴¹They were terrified and asked each other, "Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!"

Last week, during our community group discussion at Commons Church, we talked about the fact that authority is the key to peace.  Then I heard a speaker at the Willow Creek Leadership Summit (Have I mentioned I was there last week?) say that “Trust evicts complaint. They are incompatible roommates.” So, my conclusion is this:  When I trust whoever has the authority in a situation, I will know peace without complaint. 

Authority [uh-thor-i-tee] (n.) – the power to determine, adjudicate, or otherwise settle issues or disputes; jurisdiction; the right to control, command, or determine

This morning, I read the passage quoted above from Mark 4, and I was blessed to the core with the reminder that I know the Peace Maker.  Jesus is the Authority.  He can be trusted.  At a time in my life when I often feel like I’ve got more questions than answers, I am thankful for this reminder.  


Speak to storm inside of me and Your voice will calm the sea.
All of my fears completely cease as the storm gives way to peace. 
- Lyrics to Speak to the Storm by Gina Greek Funderburg

Strength In Weakness

Update:  Anita just called.  The wrong has been made right.  She just wanted me to know.  :-) 


But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10


So, continuing with the theme of "rain" this week, I'd just like to say that when it rains it pours.  The pleasant showers I was hoping for have come more in the form of thunderstorms.


This week, I feel weak.  Every day, I come to work, and I just hope I can get through the day without making any major mistakes or allowing my weakness to upset anybody else's proverbial apple cart.  (I'm getting good with the cliches!)


This morning, however, Anita called.  Anita, my precious friend, a former client, someone God uses repeatedly to bless my socks off.  She was frantic, pouring out a story of someone who had used her Christian faith to manipulate her into a bad situation then sent her on a guilt trip when she stood up for herself.  She told me she was just calling to make sure I was in my office because she was coming to pray through it with me -- she needed my strength.  "This is bad, this is very, very bad," I thought to myself.  What have I left to give her this morning?  I have no reserves this week.  


And, of course, you know what happened next.  That Voice. That still, small, powerful, soothing Voice.  "Give her Me."  


Before I even had time to formulate a plan, Anita showed up.  She came inside my office, shut the door, sat down, and began telling her story.  And, the tears I hadn't yet shed today poured down my cheeks for her.  I listened.  I assured her she'd done nothing wrong.  I asked about other areas of her life and heard a glowing report of how she is doggedly pressing into Christ for her every need.  This woman has overcome more obstacles in her lifetime than you can conceive of were you to sit and count all day.  And, we prayed.  Grasping both hands, we bowed our heads and asked God for miracles.  I prayed until I ran out of words, fearful that what I had to offer her this morning might not be enough.  (Foolish, I know.)


When we'd finished praying.  We hugged, dried our tears, and then she said, "What do you need me to do today?"  I just stared at her.  "I've got time on my hands, how can I help out around here?"  I took her back to our warehouse/thrift store where I knew she'd be a welcome help.  As we passed others in the hallway who greeted her and asked how she was doing, she smiled brightly and said, "Oh, I'm blessed!"  


It was the most beautiful demonstration of Christ's power made perfect in weakness that I have ever personally witnessed.  And, then I was reminded of a story about Moses from Exodus 33 and how he insisted that the presence of God lead him and the Israelites or they would not move.  How I pray His presence would be so evident in my own life!



Then Moses said to him, "If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?" 

And the LORD said to Moses, "I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name."  Exodus 33

It's Beginning to Rain ...

I’m coming to believe that nothing inspires a true fear of the Lord in me like a demonstration of Jesus’ magnificence.  This has been one seriously “Crazy or Jesus” week, and as I sit here at the end of it, having just witnessed another marvelous provision of God, I am struggling to find words for the things I am thinking and feeling.

This week alone, I have seen the Lord speak, counsel, and provide by His Spirit, by His Word, and by His Church in such specific and unique ways that I can find no other explanation for them but Christ alone. 

And, I vacillate between two responses to such grandeur. 

First, I am reminded of the story of Peter’s encounter with Jesus in Luke 5.  Having fished all night to no avail, Jesus comes to the fishermen and commands them to let down their nets one more time on the opposite side of the boat.  They are doubtful, but obedient, and they pull up a catch so large it strains their nets.  And Peter responds to Jesus, “Depart from me; I am a sinful man!” 

To be allowed to experience the grace of God in such personal ways tempts me to cry out, “God, don’t you know whom you are blessing?!  I am a sinful woman.   It’s too much.  It’s too wonderful.  It’s more than I can take!” But, Peter didn’t yet understand the grace and mercy of Christ.  He did not know that all his sin would be covered by Christ’s righteousness.  He didn’t know he could boldly approach the throne of grace and find mercy.  This leads me to my second response …

It’s ironic that I wrote earlier this week about praying for rain and carrying an umbrella because what I’m discovering today is that I’d much rather stand in the rain, face turned up, arms spread wide, and allow this incredible awareness of God’s extravagance to wash over me than to hold up an umbrella to shield me from it. 

At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life. Titus 3:3-7

Praying for Rain and Carrying an Umbrella

Occasionally, I am impressed to pray something so specifically that I feel convinced it could only be from the Lord.  And, for a few days, I will pray it fervently.  Then, seeing no immediate effects or rewards, the fervency wanes.  I may pray it once or twice a week, eventually resorting to a rare mention of it in my prayers.  And, generally, when I’ve all but forgotten that I ever felt called to ask for whatever that thing was, the Lord provides.  He answers out of His abundance, and I am completely stunned.  I’m as caught off guard by the answer as if I’d never asked for it, as if I’d never believed that the prompting for the asking came from Him in the first place.  It’s a silly cycle really.

Two weeks ago, I was having a conversation with a friend who’s been riding a perpetual emotional roller coaster in prayer for the last few years.  She believes she knows what the Lord has said to her, and she believes He’s affirmed that original message several times over.  But, nothing in her present circumstances indicates that an answer is on the way, so she doubts and fears and frets.   As I listened to her, I finally asked what I felt was the critical question, “Friend, what if you just decided to believe God?” What if you decided that He’s big enough to show you if you’re wrong, but as long as He continues to affirm His original word to you, you’re going to stand firm in that belief against all doubts or evidence to the contrary? 

Bold advice.  Easy to dispense.

Two days later, I hopped on my own roller coaster.  I found myself fretting at the feet of Jesus, wringing my hands and telling him all about my distress over His delayed answer to my very earnest request (the one He’d placed there!).  And, as if someone had pressed the “play” button on a recording of my conversation with my friend, I heard my own voice come back to me.  “Friend, what if you just decided to believe God?  What if you decided that He’s big enough to show you if you’re wrong, but as long as He continues to affirm His original word to you, you’re going to stand firm in that belief against all doubts or evidence to the contrary?”   I literally shook my head.  What if indeed …

A few days ago, I saw a church sign.  Now, I’m not a huge fan of church signs, the ones with the pithy sayings.  I generally find them cheesy at best, and too often obnoxious.  This one might have been a little bit of both, but it still got my attention.  It read simply, “If you’re praying for rain, be sure you carry an umbrella.”  I immediately began to wonder what it would look like to carry an umbrella – in other words, to live and act as though I expected my prayers to be answered at any moment.  How would my thinking change?  What would I do differently?  How would my conversations change?

In Joshua 6:1, the Bible says the city of Jericho was tightly shut up and nobody was getting in or out, but the Lord said to Joshua, “See I have delivered Jericho into your hands …”  Joshua would still have to march around the city wall and shout to see it fall, but Jericho was his from the moment God promised it.  He could carry an umbrella even though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.  

Thoughts from Psalm 81

Oh that My people would listen to Me,

That Israel would walk in My ways!

I would quickly subdue their enemies

And turn My hand against their adversaries.

Those who hate the LORD would pretend obedience to Him,

And their time of punishment would be forever.

But I would feed you with the finest of wheat,

And with honey from the rock I would satisfy you.

Psalm 81:13-16

As I set out this morning to talk about this passage, I'm afraid I won't be able to do it justice.  I'm afraid I won't be able to clearly communicate how these words arrested my thoughts today.  I am so guilty of loving to read the good things in scripture, the ways the Lord says He'll bless obedient people, but completely glossing over the dire warnings for the disobedient.  I have spoken frequently of Isaiah 30:18, and how the Lord longs to be gracious and rises to show us compassion, but just because one longs for something doesn't mean that longing can be fulfilled.  God cannot honor disobedience.  

This morning, as I read Psalm 81, I was reminded of that truth anew.  It's as if the Lord says, "If Israel, my people, would just walk obediently, I would do so many incredible things for them!  I want so badly for them to turn and listen and obey so that I can not just satisfy them, but pour out abundance on them!"  

Then my heart was pierced by verse 15, "Those who hate the LORD would pretend obedience to Him ..." My thoughts exploded with a resounding question, "What does it mean to pretend obedience?"  It's a frightening thought because somehow, deep down inside, I know it's something I'm guilty of doing.  Pretending obedience.  Faking obedience.  Doing the right things with the wrong heart.  God says those who do that, hate Him and are faced with eternal punishment.  It's serious.

Thankfully, we know that the righteous redemption of Jesus has taken away eternal punishment for all who call on Him, but it is still a sobering reminder of how seriously God views disobedience.  And, what His heart's desire is for His children.  

"But I would feed you with the finest of wheat, and with honey from the rock I would satisfy you." My prayer this morning is that I would not just be someone God wants to bless, but that I would be an obedient someone God can and will bless in the ways that He longs to do. 

Reflecting on the Beatitudes

<sup>Tonight at The Commons, we were "dragging the hook of the kingdom" through Matthew 5:1-10, more commonly known as The Beatitudes.  Corey, who was leading the conversation, did an excellent job of helping us gain a more clear understanding of what each of the statements means, 


Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who recognize their own poverty of spirit and need for a Savior</sup>
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven, they get to live in the present reality and future hope of God's reign.
Blessed are those who mourn, those who grieve over their sin and how it grieves the heart of God
for they will be comforted, they will know that God's grace is deeper than their sin.
Blessed are the meek, those who have a humble disposition before the Lord
for they will inherit the earth, they will be lifted up in due time. 
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who seek God for relationship's sake rather than their own glory
for they will be filled, they will have as much of Him as they desire.
Blessed are the merciful, those who demonstrate toward others 
for the will be shown mercy, they will see understand with greater clarity the mercy they've been shown.
Blessed are the pure in heart, those whose heart intentions and actions are aligned with their desire to please God
for they will see God, they will recognize God at work in and around them and experience an increased intimacy with Him
Blessed are the peacemakers, those who actively strive to convey the message of reconciliation between God and man
for they will be called sons of God, they will be known as God's children carrying out His message.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, those who suffer for choosing to live rightly set apart as unto the Lord
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven, they live - both now and in eternity - under the blessed rule and reign of Christ.

The most profound thing that occurred to me tonight as we looked at this very familiar passage came toward the end of our conversation.  I'd been jotting down notes, and all of a sudden, I looked down the list of " "beatitudes" and noticed a pattern.  I believe there may very well be a progression as you move through the list.

Those who recognize their poverty of spirit, mourn over their sin, and therefore, adopt a disposition of humility before God.  The humbled and aware of their need, they hunger and thirst for right relationship with God.  Having been granted the the gift of that righteousness that is not their own but the gift of God, they freely demonstrate mercy toward others in need of the same gift.  Their righteousness allows them to approach God with purity of heart and mind and to commit themselves to proclaiming the message of peace with God (reconciliation) for which they are persecuted, yet able to rejoice having inherited an eternal reward.

I don't know if this makes sense to anyone else, but it really resonated with me.  As we looked over the list and began discussing which ones we were "good" at or "bad" at, I began to think about my own life and realize that until I truly understood "poor in Spirit" and my need for a Savior, I never stood a chance at understanding or developing anything else on the list.  I couldn't mourn over my sin apart from that understanding.  I couldn't be humble before the Lord as long as I was still clinging to pride.  I couldn't hunger and thirst for Christ's righteousness until I understood that I had none of my own.  I couldn't show mercy to others until I understood how much mercy I'd been shown.  I couldn't align my heart with my actions in a pure way before the Lord until I understood that obedience was about a desire to please Him not impress Him or others.  I couldn't actively proclaim the message of peace until I'd experienced genuine peace with God.  And, I'd never rejoice through persecution if I didn't consider the rule and reign of my precious Savior to be the utmost reward.

New Morning, New Attitude

Can I just say that I personally think one of the most brilliant things God ever did was create mornings?  I mean seriously.  We get to start over every single day.
I woke up this morning and not a single thing had changed about my circumstances and the things that had me so miserably frustrated last night, but somehow, knowing I had a whole new day to approach it energized me afresh.  I got to lay there before I even opened my eyes and repent of all of yesterday's temper tantrums and commit afresh to walking graciously through whatever today brings.  I got to wash my face and brush my teeth and pick out clean clothes and remind myself of all the things that do matter and repent of all the things that don't.
And, I was reminded of Psalm 17:15, As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness.

Coming Up Short

In the practice of confession this week, I was treading very slowly, choosing my words with extra care. My sister finally said, "spit it out, my ears can handle it!"  Chagrined, I admitted, "it's not your ears I worry about; it's my own dignity I'm still trying to preserve."  I've thought about that conversation a lot.  The absurdity of my attempts to confess my own wickedness while maintaining some semblance of respectability would be comical if it were not so pitiable.

She graciously heard what I needed to say, listened carefully, without passing judgment, then boiled it all down to a simple statement that I hope will haunt me for a long time to come.  "At some point, you're going to have to decide if you love your sin or if you love Christ."

I've known for a long time now that I am guilty of stopping short of radical.  I want enough of Jesus to be usable.  Even better, I want to be "blessable."  But, I always shy away from crossing the line into radical.
The problem is, there's no such thing.  I've drawn a false line.  I can't be usable or blessable without being radical.  I can be dignified.  I can have the respect of persons.  I can own nice things.  I can hold honored positions. I can bask in my meager accomplishments.  But, I cannot be Spirit-filled, Christlike, God-glorifiying without full surrender of myself, my will, and my delusions of dignity.

It is a strange thing to fear and yet crave the humbling that I know must come.  I cannot pray daily to love what God loves and hate what He hates, then expect that He would allow any amount of pride to go unmortified.

May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. Galatians 6:14