square peg believer

Jesus wept

2012-01-26T06:45:00.000-08:00

I want to be profound today. I want to write something moving and revealing about the nature of grief. But I can't. I'm just too sad to do it.

I think it's good to be sad, even though it's hard for me. I was raised to be the "good" kid in the family, which I took to mean, I was supposed to be the happy one, while others in my family were moody. It's the role my parents carved out for me and it felt comfortable for me. I liked being upbeat and happy.

As I came to faith, it seemed to validate my attitude. I thought that as a Christian I was supposed to be happy all the time and if I wasn't happy, I should do what I'd always done---gloss over it. After all, didn't Paul say "Rejoice in the Lord, always" and the punctuate it by saying "Again I say, rejoice!"?

But over time I came to realize that the abundant life Jesus promised meant I would experience both ups and downs. And that there was some kind of "abundance" found in making it through both. If I was just going up all the time (or pretending to go up all the time), I was missing something. Mostly I think I was missing real, genuine connection with God and those around me.

So, I'm sad. I'm sad imperfectly. I'm not quite sure how to do it exactly yet. But that's where I am. I'm just putting it out there.

My stepfather passed away about a week ago. We knew it was coming. Parkinson's beat him up over the years. That's just as sad as his parting, really.

And now I've heard that a coach from Severna Park High School just passed away. He was in his 40's and led the baseball team and the Green Hornets. He was in his 40's and left behind his family and many, many kids and peers who respected and loved him.

Tonight people from around the community have been invited to come to a prayer vigil at Woods at 7:30. I want to be there too, to let people know that it's okay to be sad. We can be sad together, as we share loss and pain. After all, Jesus wept, too.

human "beings"

2012-01-23T10:05:00.000-08:00

I am like one of those little toy cars, that you pull back repeatedly until it's all wound up.  Released, it begins its crazed loops and out-of-control racing across the hardwood floor where it bumps repeatedly into the brown leg of an armchair there, the scuffed up moulding of one wall, here, until it finally peters out, sputtering and spent.

And that's just what goes on inside my head, not to mention the exterior busyness that occupies most of my waking hours!  But I want to be like this:

...still...connected...peaceful.

Oh, yes, there is a time for action, but also a time to "Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10).

I am constantly working on learning what it means to be a human "being" rather than a human "doing". That's why I enjoyed this recent NPR broadcast about mindfulness. Even the 2-3 minute exercise the clinical psychologist recommended was valuable to me. I bet if I slow down a bit, I will get more connected with who I am and I just might be better able to hear God's voice.   Check it out.

http://www.npr.org/2012/01/20/145525002/be-here-now-meditation-for-the-body-and-brain

city folks go west

2012-01-13T15:55:00.000-08:00

Crunch, crunch, crunch. My hiking boots made the pebbles talk. And then, they would squirm, moving in unanticipated directions, causing my ankle to twist and my body to awkwardly stumble forward. The dry heat, lovely at the start of our adventure, made us stop for water every 5-10 minutes as the day wore on. One kid fell into a cactus (don't ask me how; I didn't see the incident, but only the scratches on her face and legs afterward which corroborated the story). And this was supposed to be fun!? Absolutely! We loved every minute of it.

On our Christmas vacation, we headed out to Arizona to be with my brother-in-law and his family for a week. There are 6 of us and 7 of them. (I've never asked, but always suspected that he had one more child, just to beat the size of his older brother's family! ;) At any rate, we were quite the sight everywhere we went. It was like "Cheaper by the Dozen", except that none of the kids looked like Ashton Kutcher and none of the parents looked like Steve Martin, but still...you get the idea. There was quite a bit of chaos, that's all I'm sayin'.

Early one morning, the baker's dozen of us packed our pb&j sandwiches and piled into a van and headed about an hour outside of Phoenix for a day hike in the Superstitious Wilderness (oh, and I'm writing this on Friday the 13th----how apropos! :)

The vistas, the connections, the challenge of climbing up (and later running down the mountain)----it all added up to a lovely way to spend our Christmas season. Who needs a white Christmas anyhow?! ;)

Christmas crunch

2011-12-23T07:25:00.000-08:00

I opened a kitchen cabinet and found 3 Barbies and a sticky, greasy lid to some missing crock pot. I was at my mother's apartment last Saturday, helping her pack up as movers were wrapping furniture in cellophane to keep drawers from opening on the truck. And I found random item after random item in unexpected places. It makes perfect sense actually, because, as you may have guessed, my mom is the definition of "random". (I appear just under her, as the second definition. :)

At any rate, packing boxes and moving my mom is not what I thought I'd be doing the last weekend before Christmas. It's not necessarily what I wanted to be doing, either. But there I was, just the same.

My mother and stepfather are struggling. I know I've blogged about them before. My stepfather has Parkinson's and dementia and my mother is his primary caregiver. Sounds pretty straightforward, typed up in one neat little sentence like that. But anybody who's had relatives with health issues or had to deal with aging parents knows how heavy this all feels. My mother has recently had health issues of her own (joint and muscle pain) and she is seeming increasingly confused and forgetful, herself.

Dealing with the move, caring for her and Mario, prepping for Christmas, squeezing in last-minute visits with friends and family before leaving town----well, it's all been too much. I know many, MANY of you are also now feeling your own version of the "Christmas crunch".

To me, it began to feel as if I had a "1 TON" trapezoid weight resting on my chest. (You know the ones that appear in the cartoons, at the circus? Picture that on top of an already small me!) It's affected my breathing and my peace.

So I've been trying to take my own advice. I told my worship team the other night (as a kind of pre-Christmas eve service pep talk) that the most important thing is for us to stay connected to God and to each other. No one's Christmas season is as perfect as the idyllic scenes on the Christmas cards----not even the very First Christmas!

But what we are celebrating is the very fact that God is our Savior, our Life Preserver on the stormy seas of life. Clinging to Him is the best chance we've got at making it!

So, cling to Him, I will. This morning, I'm feeling a little more hopeful, as if the weight has shifted off of me. Of course, I'm still in my p.j.'s as I type this, and am fresh from my devotional time with God. The day is young and there's still plenty of time for me to put that weight back on top of me. :P But if it lands on me again, I'm going to make every effort to peer around it and over it to the bigger and more beautiful things around me.

"For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Savior which is Christ our Lord."

Photo Card

2011-12-21T21:28:00.001-08:00

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Prepare Him room

2011-12-10T07:33:00.001-08:00

Let every heart prepare Him room. This line from "Joy to the world" has been resonating with me this season. How can my heart do this? I know far too well how to crowd Him out. This kind of comes naturally for me, I think! Honestly, if I don't begin my day with devotional time, I feel like I've, in effect, set Christ outside. "Sorry, no room at the inn! Have you tried the stable, just a few yards back?" :P

It's not that God isn't with me when I am running to and fro. I know He is always constant and faithful. He never leaves me. (Thank You, Jesus! :) But as I go about my business, my spirit falters. And part of the problem is exactly that----I'm going about my business, not His. My heart is off-kilter. Jesus has been relegated to the sidelines.

A friend of mine posted this Christmas card that has gone viral. It's kind of funny at first glance, but there is a truth to it that I find very convicting. We've all gotten off-kilter, haven't we? Not only do we fail to prepare Christ room, we often shut others out as well.

Lord Jesus, forgive us and help us, this season especially, to make room for You and those You've called us to love!

Advent

2011-12-05T08:44:00.000-08:00

Let every heart prepare Him room.

Little drummer boy

2011-12-03T17:34:00.001-08:00

"I have no gift to bring, pa rum pa pum pum." I have SO much in common with the little drummer boy. Before the Christ Child, I am humbled. I come to adore Him, empty-handed, because I know I have nothing to bring that can remotely honor the King. I don't even have a little drum to bang on.

Sometimes when I say this kind of thing, people think I have poor self-esteem or that I'm in a slump, but neither is the case. (Well, at least, not right at this moment! ;) It's just that when I stop and think about God's beautiful character, I'm overwhelmed by His greatness and I suddenly see my smallness.

It's like a picture on an iphone or ipad, that can be magnified with a simple stroke of the finger. Most days, I'm so preoccupied with myself and my trivial concerns, that I blow myself up, larger than life. But when I see the REAL big picture----that the Heavenly Father sent His One and Only Son to save me, a sinner----I can't help but magnify Him with praise.

Trust me, I'm not always bubbling over with praise songs floating from my lips. I wish I were! I probably should be. But now and then it hits me, like the scent of cinnamon pine cones at Whole Foods :) and I can't escape the truth of it. God's extravagant gift of love, wrapped in a baby, was nothing I remotely deserved. So, the best I can do is say thank You and humbly adore Him.

simple pleasures

2011-11-26T20:33:00.001-08:00

Sitting side by side, we basked in the warm fall sun. It was as if we were transported back to a "simpler place and time" as the song says. We were just shooting the breeze without a care in the world. There was no agenda, nothing important to discuss. We were just soaking in the beauty of the green grass, the river an arms-length away, and the peace that comes in the company of a friend who knows you, and knows you well.

My friend, Gae, and her husband John are long-time friends of ours who had moved to New York city this summer. Our kids love each other as much as we love each other, so we were eager to reconnect when they told us they'd be in town for the holiday. Just yesterday, at their parents' place near Solomons Island, we were able to do just that and experience some of the quiet pleasures I described above. My daughter, Rebeca, took pictures of the place, but I'm afraid they don't do it justice. (Pictures rarely do.)

I would have titled this post "pura vida 3" but thought that might be taking the "pura vida" theme a bit too far! However, whether in Costa Rica or back home, I find I continue to marvel at the power and beauty of uncomplicated moments that God gives us----the refreshment of laughter, the nourishment of food, the comfort of touch. For all of these things, and particularly the gift of unhurried time with friends and family, to the God who gave it all, I am truly grateful.

pura vida stateside

2011-11-14T12:08:00.001-08:00

There was a fire in my house on Friday night----I kid you not! It all started when I told a friend I would host her "Organo Gold" coffee party at my house. Yes, this is one of those Amway or Tupperware or Scentsational kind of companies. Honestly, I hate these kinds of "parties" because I feel like it pushes products on friends/captives who have to buy whatever you're selling out of pity or obligation. I seriously don't know how I got roped into doing this, but it was probably a sense of pity or obligation that made me do it. :}

At any rate, one of the guys who was "hustling" the product (his word, not mine), thought he would help out and put a coffeepot on the stove---only it was a coffepot designed for a particular coffeemaker, not for stovetop use!

The next thing I knew he was yelling "Fire!" and as I raced over to the kitchen, I saw that, yes, indeed, the plastic handle of the coffeepot was in flames and melting all over the stove. While I doused it, he promptly ran away. (Clearly he was a better salesman than firefighter. :)

The main point of my story (I told the fire story just to pique your interest :) is that the salesman was telling me about his ambitions---how he wanted to work hard in his 20's and 30's so that when he got older, he could sit back and let the "passive" income roll in. As we spoke, I realized how little I was interested in making money. Oh, extra money might certainly come in handy, but it's not my aim. I love my life---raising my family and singing (worship leading) and dancing (Body and Soul)--just as it is.

Our conversation served to remind me that "pura vida" joy is present stateside---a truth that I was somehow forgetting in the midst of day-to-day challenges and responsiblities. Oh, and by the way, the coffee and tea products are very good! Just let me know if you want to purchase some. I can get you a good deal. I have connections. :)

(The "joy" you see above is brought to you courtesy of the Woods Praise Team. We took pics during our retreat yesterday. We're beginning to look out for advent "peace", "hope," "joy," and "love" already! :)

pura vida

2011-11-09T20:36:00.000-08:00

In a small shop in Costa Rica, I asked a young woman "Como estas?" Her reply was "Pura vida!" Loosely translated the phrase means, "This is the life!" or "Life is good."

It's an expression unique to Costa Rica, and it is used liberally. After just a few days, my friends and I could easily understand how it came to be the country's motto. Coming from our fast-paced, hectic lives, we needed to reconnect with what "pure life" meant. And time and time again, we saw it fleshed out---in the place and its people.

The week in Costa Rica was a gift, pure and simple---a precious stone in a lush green setting. As I type this, I can picture the smoldering volcano, just outside my hotel room. I can smell the damp earth that we trampled on, as we hiked through the rain forest. I can feel each bump in the long unpaved roads we traveled. (Okay, so it wasn't exactly idyllic all the time----but it very nearly was! ;)

And the gift of time to see and do and be was offered to us "con mucho gusto". This was another popular expression we heard over and over. When a person thanks another, the reply is "it's a pleasure" (rather than "you're welcome"). And you got the feeling that the Costa Ricans really meant it.

Truly, the pleasure was ours! And if I sound nostalgic for the time there, I am. It's taken me a while to get back in the swing of "pura vida" back home quite honestly. The "pura vida" in Costa Rica consisted of plentiful fresh food, gorgeous beaches, spectacular waterfalls and more----while back in the States, especially when I first returned, it felt like plentiful loads of laundry and buckets of email, more than anything else. :P

I will post some more pics and regale with you stories about my adventures there, in the days ahead. We had some good times, no doubt about it! In the meantime, I want to keep my eyes open for the gift of "pura vida" right where Jesus has planted me, here and now.

concert obsession

2011-10-15T12:14:00.000-07:00

I was sitting in the balcony, but inching toward the edge of my seat. The concert was coming to its conclusion, and I had to figure out how to make my way down to the stage. Yes, I was a fan of James Taylor, but I was mostly being driven by my collection/obsession of obtaining concert play lists (the list of songs performed).

I can't quite remember how my collection got started. It was probably at some Christian youth conference, where the likes of David Crowder and the Robbie Seay band were playing. It was always easy at these events to get right down near the stage (a/k/a as the mosh or pogo pit :) and snag a play list when the concert was over. Plus, Christians are generally really polite, and so it never took much effort to get what I wanted. (I'm not quite as polite as you'd think. ;)

But lately, I've been at concerts where claiming my prize has been anything but a cakewalk.

In August, some tickets to see Keith Urban fell in my lap. I knew he was married to Nicole Kidman, and I'd heard a song or two of his on the radio, but beyond that, I didn't know much about him or his music. Let me just say this: his musical talent BLEW ME AWAY! He mesmerized every single person in the Verizon center that night! (The girl next to me, who I did not even know, turned to me at one point and said, "Don't you just want to squeeze his ***?" I just smiled and said, "He is cute!" :) There was practically smoke coming from his fingers, his guitar playing was so hot! That combined with his charm, humility and, yes, good looks, made for a winning time! But I digress... :}

The point is we were at the Verizon Center, filled with hundreds, nay, thousands of fans, clamoring for any piece of Keith they could get (see above quote). As the concert ended, I started leaving our box seats (it's a long story) and making my way down to the stage. A security guard or two impeded my progress, until I realized that I needed to act as if I were trying to find a friend of mine (and, in truth, I did have a friend who was at the concert in a floor seat). Mitch was trailing me, silently admiring my perseverance (at least, I think that's what he was doing! He might have been shaking his head in dismay! :)

As I approached the stage, I breathlessly told the security guard my story. She looked unimpressed, so I turned away. It was then that I spotted a guy with a black t-shirt with the words "crew" on the back. I knew what that meant! I told him immediately that I thought they did an awesome job and launched into my story of collecting play lists. He reached into his pocket and said, "I'll give you my personal copy." Win! :)

At the James Taylor concert, I eventually made my way down to the stage, snapping pictures to appear like any other fan. As James exited the stage, I excitedly extended my hand, which he came over to shake, right before departing. I was thrilled! With adrenaline now surging through my body, I clambered up onto the stage, barely eluding the grasp of a nearby security guard (I don't think they expected any JT fans to be as nimble as I! ;)

Once onstage, I found a play list and raised it in triumph, only to have the security guard snatch it from my hand. "Give me that!" he scolded. Since he was playing the "father" role, I played the kid. "I can't have it?" I asked, pleading. "No!" he responded firmly, explaining that they re-use the lists. Disappointed, I made my way off the stage. But at least I shook JT's hand, right?

Tonight, I have a concert of my own (the Praise Band is playing at the Community Center Spaghetti Dinner), followed by a concert at the Rams Head. I'm fairly certain I will have more stories to tell in the not-too-distant future! :)

challenges (continued)

2011-09-29T08:08:00.000-07:00

Yes, challenges continued! A few weeks ago, I was really struggling emotionally. It was around the 10th anniversary of 9/11 and I was entering into the pain and horror of what had happened 10 years prior. I'm not sure why I was doing this exactly. Maybe part of the reason was the incessant news coverage---"specials" being run on t.v., interviews on the radio with survivors and family members, and so on. The nation was reliving it all, and I was, too. I took it all in, kind of "basting" in it. When the attacks occurred ten years ago, my children were little, so I shielded them from the coverage, trying to keep them innocent and believing that their world was safe. In the process, I shielded myself from it, too. This time around, I let the harsh reality sink in.

On the home front, my oldest daughter, Cristina, got a job teaching Spanish at our local high school. This is great news, especially in today's economy, but a first time teacher's job is overwhelming----there are lesson plans to put together (how do you teach a language that you learned so easily as a child?), classroom management skills to be developed and more. I offered help when possible, but was quickly becoming as sleep-deprived and stressed as Cristina was.

My mother cares 24/7 for my stepfather, Mario, who has Parkinson's and dementia. In reality, they both need help. Care-giving is taking a physical and emotional toll on my mom, and on me and my sisters, as well, as we try to provide the support and attention they need. We had scheduled a brief stay at a nursing home for Mario, so my mother could get a break, and it ended up being a fiasco. The staff was friendly enough, but there simply weren't enough of them to give each resident the attention they needed. We were there for lunch one day, for example, and two of the residents were having an argument. The cook came out from the kitchen, exasperated, and blurted out, "Say you're sorry, and be done with it!" (I'm certain she is a better cook than counselor.)

All of this together felt like too much. I started feeling fragile, like I was fast-approaching a breaking point. It struck me that I needed "soul-tending". Like a fighter between rounds, I needed someone to nurse my wounds, quench my thirst, and tell me that it was going to be all right. I just plain needed to catch my breath, before getting back into the "ring" of life.

So I stepped away from the t.v. and news. I listened solely to Christian music on the radio. I took a friend's hand (or rather, they took mine) and asked people to pray for me. I made space to just "be". I put boundaries on the time I invested planning Spanish classes and being available to my mom and stepdad. I thought of the advice given on airplanes, that should the cabin lose pressure, parents are to put on their own oxygen masks first, before helping their children. It always seemed selfish at first glance. Shouldn't you make sure your kid is okay, before tending to your own needs? But, no, you cannot possibly help others when you are floundering around yourself. When Jesus said, "Love your neighbor as yourself," the assumption is that you love yourself, already.

What do you do when your soul needs tending?

challenges

2011-09-20T14:52:00.000-07:00

I went to an adventure park earlier this month, as a birthday present from a dear friend. :) (You know who you are! :) Just like at ski resorts, there were different courses with varying levels of difficulty. In the pic above, I was on the yellow level a/k/a the bunny slope. You can tell because a) I'm smiling and b) I was striking a ballerina pose to keep things interesting.

Sarah and Peggy and I breezed through the yellow level. When we hit green, we discovered that part of the challenge wasn't the obstacles, it was the waiting. There were some small boys in front of us on one course and they were struggling with various elements. We tried to help them, but had to admit we were finding their pace frustrating. And we couldn't get around them, either. It was basically an obstacle-course traffic jam, only since we weren't in cars, we couldn't listen to music or check our phones or do anything that we usually do to pass the time. Sarah and I were commenting that we wished we could pick and choose the challenges in life. On this day, we thought we had picked one challenge, and life threw another one at us. The situation was testing our patience. But we didn't want our patience tested!

Eventually, we got through the green level. Blue was supposed to be the next level but we were so eager to push ourselves that we went straight to black (not unlike a double diamond ski slope). The ladder you see above was the first obstacle of the course. I had to work hard to make it up that ladder (being small has its disadvantages, at times), but I scrambled up it successfully (and so did Sarah).

It helped to have friends on the course with me. It made me feel stronger and braver. And when any of us felt uncertain, we helped each other out, either physically with the carabiners and such, or emotionally with a "you got this!" Never underestimate the power of a friend nearby. And keep in mind that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. (I don't think it's in the Bible, but I believe it to be so!)

2011-09-06T10:40:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday night, the Woods Praise team had the privilege of singing the National Anthem at the Bowie Baysox game v. Altoona. Guess who won!?! :) Well, our team was also "winning", so to speak, because we had such a great time!

Not only did we sing the anthem well (it wasn't perfect, but then again, so few performances are! Did you see Christina Aguilera sing it at the Super Bowl? ;) but team member John Dawson won a trivia contest and got a free t-shirt (which he promptly gave to me! Thanks, John! :) We came, we sang, we conquered! ;)

Below, are two short videos that represent the night. The first was a "tester" video, which we shot to help my friend and teammate Todd McDowell became familiar with the iphone. (For some reason, when he started filming I immediately went into "broadcaster mode" and started acting like I was on t.v. Perhaps I missed my calling! ;) The second video is John's winning response to the trivia question. It's especially funny because he was basically given the correct answer ahead of time, so all of his hemming and hawing about his answer was an act! :)
Enjoy the footage!

If I can post the anthem itself, I will. For some reason, blogger is rejecting it right now. (Maybe we went flat!?! ;)

one day at a time

2011-08-29T11:20:00.001-07:00

This catch phrase from 12-step programs is an important truth to hold onto, in these slippery, shaky times. Ninety-seven year old Mabel Sawhill apparently clings to this maxim, as well. A video was made of Mabel's life as part of a senior thesis project. Madeline Marshall wanted to focus on active, strong seniors who defy the stereotypes of older Americans. And Mabel was the perfect subject to shatter preconceived notions. And she shatters those notions with a slotted metal spoon! ;)

Mabel is a sprightly woman who can just about multiply fishes and loaves. In recent years, she has been the head of the kitchen staff at National Presbyterian Church. She was the caterer for our wedding reception. I have vivid memories of her shooing away guests from the buffet table, because we hadn't yet had the opening prayer or toast. (I can't rememer if she had a slotted metal spoon in hand, but I do remember that people were obeying her orders! :) Just two years ago, Mabel catered our daughter Rebeca's quinceanera (sweet 15 birthday party). The menu included tender roast beef, strawberry spinach salad and sticky buns. (My mouth is watering as I type!) And this past May, she catered our kids' graduation party. Mitch hopes that she will one day cater our kids' wedding receptions. At the rate Mabel's going, she just might make it! :)

It's clear to me that Mabel has the perfect recipe for surviving life's crises----be they earthquakes, hurricanes, or just plain day-to-day struggles. Serve and love those around you and take life one day at a time!

(I had trouble embedding the video, so just click on the link below. It will take you to Madeline's blog. The video is called "This is life.")

http://vimeo.com/madelinemarshall/thisislife

halftime continued

2011-08-25T09:04:00.000-07:00

I've been to two funerals this month! Not great timing for me, considering I just turned 50 and have my mortality staring me straight in the face. :P

The first memorial service was for Marty Rosenfeld, a dear friend from National Presbyterian Church. He was the sound engineer at NPC and since I played in the Crossroads band there, we crossed paths quite a bit. Marty's personality reminded me of a porcupine---he was kind and thoughtful, but you had to get past all the bristles to discover that. ;) He was amazing at what he did. He had what we musicians like to call "good ears".

What struck me the most about his service was what his son had to say. He said "My father loved me and was proud of me. I know this because he told me so. I also know it because others would tell me that he had told them the same." What a beautiful thing! This son's life had been built on the strong foundation of his father's love and approval. This is no small gift that Marty had given him.

The other funeral I attended was for a woman from my Body and Soul class who passed away suddenly. While Marty had been sick and battling cancer for some time, Meehee Hwang's death had come out of the blue. I was so surprised when I received her daughter's call to tell me the news. Meehee was a warm woman with a great sense of humor and a strong love for her family. She often beamed with pride as she spoke of her children. She was committed to her aging mother and mother-in-law and spent a great deal of time caring for them.

But I knew her mostly as an enthusiastic exerciser whose vigor made her look like a teenager. She was in her 50's but her moves could rival younger devotees. The truth is, she might have stood out in our class because a lot of our ladies are older! ;) But, honestly, she also stood out because of her kind countenance and spirit.

Her service was not a memorial service, but more of a time for contemplation and prayer. There was no mention of her life or accomplishments, but rather there was a focus on the Scriptures and hymns---clearly the bedrock of Meehee's life.

These services were a wake-up call of sorts for me. As you know, I had been thinking about what to do with the rest of my life, along the lines of: "Oh my gosh, I better get going! I've got half my life left. I better make lists. I better set goals and stay focused, if I'm ever going to accomplish anything."

And then it struck me, right between the eyes. Goal-setting is fine, but it's not the point. Life isn't about checking certain things off of the bucket list or making a name for yourself. It's about how you love along the way. It's not about the destination so much as the journey. Ah, yes, I remember now. Paul put it this way:

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

halftime!

2011-08-12T15:25:00.000-07:00

Football season is fast approaching, but the title of my post has nothing to do with that. It actually has to do with life! I cannot believe it, but I am about to turn 50! (I love to joke and say that I'm moving from "good looking" to "looking good for my age." :)

I celebrated last night with the praise team at Tim's house. We had our annual summer pool party and the next thing I knew, the team was serenading me with a song entitled "50 years just make you shudder" (to the tune of Paul Simon's "50 ways to leave your lover"). The lyrics were really clever and, of course the team sounded good! :)

Fifty years aren't making me shudder, exactly, but they are making stop and think. Now that I'm at least half way through my life (I am the optimistic sort and 100 seems like a nice round figure to shoot for :), it makes sense to stop and take stock. I want to think about who I am, what I'm doing and where I'm going.

This is hard for me, because I'm not a terribly introspective type of person. Any kind of reflection that lasts longer than 5 minutes usually involves my thinking about what I'm going to eat next or my next play in Scrabble. (I'm half-joking.) I honestly do feel like I'm wired for action. , but I know that if I'm all "attack" and no strategy, I'm going to lose the battle. Aimless activity may be good for the body (all that cardio, you know ;), but is useless for the soul.

As I stop and take stock, it seems to me that I don't need a complete overhaul but maybe a mid-course adjustment or two. I won't make any changes in a vacuum. First and foremost, I will lift my heart to God for guidance. I know I have certain habits in place that are good and important that don't need to change (my daily devotional time, nurturing family connections and friendships, even blogging), but I have areas I would like to grow in. I want to improve my musical chops. I'd love to write fiction. I know I need to grow in my ability to sit still and just "be".

There are concrete steps I can take to reach these goals and I've started to take some of them. But at this juncture, I'm starting to feel like Dorothy, watching the sand running down through the hour glass. Time is running out and I want to make the most of what's left.

The Bible says we need to make the most of our time. And that's exactly what I want to do.

So, tell me how you approach things. Whether or not you've hit "halftime", are you motivated to take a dream and turn it into a reality? How do you measure where you are today, and where you're headed? What helps you get where you want to go? Where is God in the process?

just for fun, part 2

2011-08-10T19:46:00.000-07:00

Mitch celebrated his birthday in July and I have a milestone birthday right around the corner. A week or two ago, we realized that with the school year fast approaching we might not be able to get in a long vaca, but we still wanted to do something special.

Well, we hunted around and decided to take a little overnight on the Eastern Shore. We had a fab time! We stayed at the Oxford Inn in Oxford, Maryland (natch). We enjoyed yummy meals (a crab frittata for breakfast at the Inn and a delish lunch in an organic restaurant in Easton). We went to the movies ("Cowboys v. Aliens" - not as bad as it sounds! ;). We went kayaking off of Tilghman Island---so peaceful and relaxing (well, not for the upper body, exactly, but we wanted that piece of it).

All in all, we just caught our breath. I marvel at the restorative nature of getting away from the usual routine. I must admit that I don't give myself many breathers. In seven days of creation, even God took a break. What makes me think I need to press on without one? Never underestimate the value of doing something "just for fun".

just for fun

2011-07-28T11:42:00.000-07:00

"He's wild! He's wild! God is wild about us!" In early July, I was singing this song at the top of my lungs, with over 100 kids during Vacation Bible School at Woods. Oh, and we had dance moves to go with it, too! :) I was in charge of the assembly times for the week of "Pandamania" (the VBS theme). Appropriately, it oftentimes felt chaotic, but because of the same, it was great fun!

I invited the youth interns, Shelly and Stephanie, to participate in the program and song-leading with me. We decided that I would be a jungle safari girl and that they would be ninjas, jumping out of the brush to teach us ninja moves. (It made sense at the time we were coming up with all this. ;)

So I became "Snore-a the Explorer" and they were "Me-cu-tie" and "You-cu-tie". :) They taught us "invisibility" and "jump kick" and other such moves. It was cute (naturally :) and the kids seemed to enjoy it. I was trying to come up with some amazing, fun, surprise ending to wrap up the week when it occurred to me that perhaps the ninjas should let me "graduate" to becoming a ninja myself.

The problem was that the idea occurred to me at the last minute (as creative ideas often do), so I had to hustle and find a martial arts outfit and fast. I went online and found a tae kwon do studio in Park Plaza, right around the corner from Woods. On Friday, after the morning assembly and before the afternoon one, I zipped over there and asked the owner if I could borrow a martial arts costume. After some initial confusion about what I was asking, and with the help of an interpreter (no kidding), I was able to communicate what I needed.

Well, the Lord was with me (either that, or my fast talking did the trick ;) because the next thing I knew, the ownder was trying various sizes of uniforms on me! I asked for a black belt, but they said that they didn't have those just laying around. :} So I gratefully took the yellow belt and the entire martial arts uni, and headed back to Woods.

At the afternoon assembly, the kids were surprised and joyful when they saw me come out. And we told them not only I, Snore-a, but all of us had become ninjas because of God's great love for us! (Again, it made sense at the time! ;) But, honestly, they knew that we were really celebrating God, and his amazing love for us, and that the ninja thing was just for fun.

It really was an amazing, fun week---chock full of music, prayers, crafts, Bible verses, mission and more. Oh, and by the way, if you ever want to learn martial arts, drop by Kwon's Tae Kwon Do in Park Plaza. (I promised the owner I'd put in a good word for them! ;)

real trials

2011-07-23T15:02:00.000-07:00

The news today and lately has all too clearly demarcated the difference between minor annoyances (such as those I cited in my last post) and the real deal---trials that are heartbreaking and heart-wrenching.

- Two weeks ago, two teenagers were struck by a car as they were leaving a local carnival. They were attempting to cross Ritchie Highway. Last I heard, one was in critical condition; the other, in stable condition.

- A colleague of a praise team member drowned in the Gulf of Mexico while on vacation. He was in his 50's.

- Peaceful Norway has been shaken by a bomb in a downtown building and a crazy gunman who single-handedly killed scores of young people attending a youth conference.

I do not know the people in these circumstances personally, and yet they still make my heart hurt.

- Closer to home, my stepfather has been struggling with Parkinsons and he continues to get worse. That, along with dementia, are taking him away from my mom and our family, even though his body is still with us.

I want to blame the environment, our diet, our fast-paced lives for these tragedies and for the insanity. It must be something about how we're living today that is causing all this. But then I remember that Jesus said "In this world you will have trouble" and I realize that back in Jesus' time (and yes, way before) trouble has a way of rearing its head and causing grief.

Our sinful hearts play a part in some of the tragedies. Others just come out of the blue, through no fault of our own. In the middle of it all, I pray that Psalm 34:18 is true. "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." And I cling to what Jesus said after reminding us of the world's trouble: "But take heart, I have overcome the world!"

127 hours

2011-07-12T19:51:00.000-07:00

My family and I watched this riveting movie the other night. It was a testament to one man's endurance under extreme circumstances. In this biographical movie, James Franco plays Aron Ralston, a real life adventurer who became trapped by a boulder when he was rock climbing in 2003. His arm became pinned and no help was on the way. Ralston had no recourse but to sever his arm, in order to save his own life.

I found the story fascinating because of Ralston's ingenuity and resilience. It made me wonder how I would hold up under a serious trial----and I mean, a real trial, not so-called "white girl problems". "White girl problems" is a phrase that has been coined to describe the minor annoyances or pet peeves of people who have NO IDEA what it is to go through something extremely difficult. People of any race or gender often complain about "white girl problems".

Here are a few examples from my own life:

- Where the heck is my cell phone? (only to realize a second later that it's in my purse)

- There was so much traffic; I got there really late.

- I'm so tired of my wardrobe. (White girl problem #24)

- Gas prices are ridiculous (as I fill up at the pump anyway)

I am as guilty as the next person of seeing small grievances or bumps in the road as major problems. Making a mountain out of a molehill? I'm the queen of that.

James 1:2 says "Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know the testing of your faith produces perseverance." I hardly know what a real trial is, let alone what it would be like to consider it "pure joy". I honestly can't even begin to wrap my head around this verse. Can you?

a beautiful thing

2011-06-29T04:22:00.000-07:00

Sweating, shivering, building, digging, singing, laughing, yawning, playing. This is some of what 119 teenagers and 41 adults have been up to the past few days in Ohio. I'm on the Woodswork mission trip with my church this week. And it has been a beautiful thing. Oh, it hasn't been perfect, mind you, but it is no less beautiful because of its flaws.

As I mentioned in a previous blog, every year, our church sends out a ginormous group to serve with Habitat for Humanity for a week. This year we've been in Twinsburg, Ohio. If you've never heard of it, that's no surprise! ;) It wasn't on my radar, either. It's a small podunk kind of town that we've suddenly been plopped down in.

We had hoped to work on 3 houses, as we had in years past, but certain permits didn't go through and so consequently, we had to identify other projects to work on. In addition to working on the 1 house, we've done prep work for other houses, worked on some local schools, and such. And today some of us are going to pack up medical supplies for use around the world and others are going to a state park to eradicate some exotic plants.

More important than the work we do is who we are. I am always amazed when I hang around young people by their beauty and "freshness". There is an effortless vitality and energy around the kids that you kind of wish you could bottle up and market. It's funny because the kids aren't even aware of it, and that's part of its charm.

But it's not just the outside of the kids that is beautiful. They are giving 110% of who they are to making a difference on this planet and they're not doing it for themselves, but in God's name. That kind of selfless service is a gift to all of us. It gives us hope when we start to think that our world is going to hell in a hand basket. It's not. There are kids that are ushering in God's kingdom, one shovelful of dirt at a time. And it's a beautiful thing.

To check out pics of these beautiful kids, go to our website: woodschurch.org and on the home page, you'll find a link to our Woodswork photo album.

For good

2011-06-18T12:18:00.000-07:00

Our family has been to many graduation ceremonies this spring, as you know---each had its own flair and interesting moments. At my daughter Emily's graduation, this morning, the choir sang the song "For Good" from the musical "Wicked". As I'm certain you know by now, the story is a twist on the Wizard of Oz. It's kind of a "prequel", actually, telling the back story of the Wicked Witch of the West, Elphaba, and her unlikely friendship with Glinda, the Good Witch of the North. The story gives a fresh perspective on what shaped Elphaba's choices and how she became misunderstood and reviled.

The music is amazing and moves the story along beautifully. Stephen Schwartz, the composer and lyricist known for "Godspell", among other Broadway hits, wrote the score. In "For Good", Elphaba and Glinda celebrate the impact each has made on the other. The song resonated with us this morning, as we all (parents, teachers, siblings, students) stopped to recognize that our relationships had changed us "for good."

I'm not going for comfortable

2011-06-16T13:36:00.000-07:00

I heard this quote recently and I really liked it. Most of our lives we spend trying to make ourselves more comfortable. It makes sense really. And as they say on Seinfeld, "Not that there's anything wrong with that." Or is there?

Comfort has been on my mind because I recently signed on to be an advisor for our church's Woodwork trip. It's a Habitat for Humanity trip where over 100 people (most of them teenagers) go and labor and sweat to build houses for folks who need them.

In years past, the Woodswork trip has gone on countless trips to countless places (I don't know how many and I don't know where, which is why I'm using the word "countless" ;) but it's true. They have been sweating and building and giving tangible love and hope and encouragement to the less fortunate.

My summer was looming large ahead of me----a vast wasteland of my usual routines, with nary a service trip in sight----when it struck me that I should see if I could be of some assistance on the Woodwork trip. I approached the leadership of the trip with fear and trembling (because I was uncertain if they would accept my last-minute plea to participate) but they had a need. Some other advisors dropped out and the next thing I knew I was going!

I was thrilled until I learned more details----wake up is at about 5:30 a.m. (I never see that hour on my digital clock, unless it's P.M.) All day, we hammer and saw and build---things I'm not particularly skilled at! When you think there might be some free time, there are actually small groups and program time. Bed time is at 11:00 p.m., if we're lucky, and our sleeping bags are arranged on a nice cushy gym floor. Sounds fun, right? ;)

But then I heard the quote "I'm not going for comfortable" and I remembered that that's what I'm about. I need to get uncomfortable. I need to move from an "all-about-me" to an "all-about-God" mentality. I know it's dangerous, but I pray that this trip stretches me to the point where I look more like Jesus.

live for today

2011-06-04T20:09:00.001-07:00

Christian artist Natalie Grant sings a song entitled "Live for today". This song came to mind recently because my daughter, Emily, had a close brush with death just a few days ago. She was walking home and was just a block or two from our house. She had a green light and was crossing in a crosswalk, when a car whipped around the corner. The next thing she knew she heard tires screeching and she turned and the car was just a foot away. Instinctively, she jumped and extended her hand to brace herself for impact. The car hit her hand, but stopped short of mowing her down.

She said that the driver didn't stop or ask her if she was okay. (That's the city, for you!) However a woman who had witnessed the scene said to her "You know, that might have turned out quite differently. Enjoy the rest of your day. You're a very lucky girl. "

When Emily told me this story, I was blown away. In the blink of an eye, her life could have been taken. I am grateful that God and His angels were protecting her. But this incident reminds me that nothing is certain. So I am going to take Natalie Grant's advice (and that woman's, as well). I'm going to enjoy each moment and "live for today".

Speaking of which, here are a couple of pics of recent joys----Andrew's graduation (and commissioning) at Valley Forge and Cristina's graduation from Eastern.

piercing the impenetrable me

2011-05-24T13:51:00.001-07:00

Just when I was feeling impenetrable, God met me just the other day. I know this sounds like "Christianese", but I simply mean that I no longer felt like stone.

On this particular day my "Devotional Classics" book took me to excerpts from Brother Lawrence's "The Practice of the Presence of God". Brother Lawrence (1614-1691) was a lay monk in a Carmelite monastery in Paris. He often worked doing the most tedious of jobs around the monastery (was it b/c he wasn't "paid staff" but merely a volunteer? Who knows!? ;) But, the point is, he found intense joy in "practicing the presence of God".

I may be making it sound way more mystical and ethereal than it is. Brother Lawrence was just looking for a way to connect with God throughout his day and some of the saints' prayers and suggestions seemed too lofty for him, so he made up his mind to go about it his own way. His goal was to become intentional about remembering that God was with him, every moment of every day. So, whether he was peeling potatoes, washing dishes, or picking up a piece of straw from the ground, he worked on setting his mind on God. And if (I should really say "when") his mind wandered, he would just bring it back around, as a parent gently corrects a wayward child.

Well, shortly after posting my "impenetrable" blog, I found that by remembering God in Brother Lawrence fashion, I was finding more moments of God-consciousness and gratitude. In truth, this was a couple of weeks ago, and I'm not really feeling particularly "monk-like" or "God-conscious", today.

Still, I am grateful for that day, and for others like it, where God's light pierces the oft-impenetrable recesses of my heart.

impenetrable

2011-05-06T17:25:00.000-07:00

Recently, I've been reading segments of "Devotional classics" by Richard Foster, as part of my devotional time. Wow! I marvel at the depth of the spiritual giants who have walked before me. My faith seems so puny compared to theirs. Wait, no, scratch that. It doesn't just seem puny; I see it clearly for what it is: puny, period.

True, I am a follower of Christ, but my faith doesn't always play out the way I hope. While some seek first the kingdom of God, I feel like I spend most days seeking my own comfort and contentment. The journals and prayers of the saints teach me more of what it means to pray, suffer, yearn and die.

But, today, I didn't feel like I learned anything. I was reading excerpts from Lancelot Andrews' "Private devotions". Lancelot (1555-1626) was a member of the Puritans and is remembered as an outstanding figure in the Anglican church. It is said of his prayers that they "lift the mind up to God".

But as I read them, I didn't feel anything lift. On the contrary, I felt like a car, newly coated in wax, that water just can't penetrate. The Scriptures I read afterward didn't seem to sink in, either. I felt as if I were made of some sort of impenetrable stone, and God's goodness and truth and light just couldn't break through.

I walked away from my quiet time, my mind and heart full of questions. Was God being silent? Was I being resistant? I share this not because I want pity or prayers or answers (though I could probably use all of the above ;) but because it's part of our common experience as believers. Sometimes we may feel as if our prayers are bouncing off the ceiling. We feel God's distance rather than God's presence. At times like these, we can only cling to II Corinthians 5:7, "We walk by faith and not by sight."

Resurrection joy

2011-04-30T09:21:00.000-07:00

We celebrated Jesus' resurrection last Sunday. We praised God for having the last word and conquering sin and death. We serve a living, risen Lord! He is risen, indeed! But how do we hold onto that resurrection joy, in the midst of life's ups and downs? I posed the question to my team at rehearsal the other night. Here is a three-point summary, with alliteration to boot (any pastor would be so proud of me! ;):

- perspective - our keyboard player said that no matter how hard his day is, all of it is erased from his memory when he walks in the door to find his little girl calling "Daddy!"

- pursuit - we can't passively sit back and expect joy to find us. We need to seek out and remember what is good.

- praise - even when circumstances are not good, God is. If we focus on the Lord, no matter what is going on around us, joy will be part of the fruit.

I had to hold onto these truths last night, as my daughter is making her college choice today. She received a letter from one of the schools saying that it needed more information before it could tell her what her financial aid package would look like. This was distressing because this particular school is her top choice and we can't make an informed decision if we don't know what the financial bottom line is going to be. And college deposits and decisions must be made in the next 24 hours! We are frustrated, not joyful, at this juncture.

This is a temporary setback, I know. Many others face far more serious trials. But this is what we are dealing with right now. So, our family is working to keep our focus on God----praising the Lord, and asking for perspective and the perseverence to pursue Him, that His resurrection joy may continue to be a hallmark of our lives.

It's Friday...but Sunday's coming!

2011-04-15T16:25:00.000-07:00

As Holy week approaches, this unforgettable message from Tony Campolo came to mind. He's told this story to many audiences, but it never gets old. If you've never heard this before, please check it out. It's the gospel in a nutshell.

heart check

2011-04-12T05:37:00.000-07:00

Recently I have begun asking myself what I'm going to do when Lent is over. Since I've given up Facebook for Lent, how will I manage going back to it----what parameters will I need to put in place? How can I avoid the slow, insidious "FB creep" in my daily life (the urge to log on to troll for fresh statuses or the latest viral video, even when I've been on only a heartbeat earlier)? As I pondered this aloud with my worship team the other night, one member said, "Isn't the point of giving up something for Lent, to make you think more about Christ's sacrifice?" The comment stopped me dead in my tracks. I had originally given up FB with that in mind, but somehow it had turned into a self-help project of sorts. I mean, it was never along the lines of "Oh, I'm going to give up candy because I need to lose weight anyway", but somehow my sacrifice had degenerated into my aiming for becoming a more disciplined, productive person, rather than seeking to be more mindful of God. My heart drives me crazy, because this kind of thing happens ALL THE TIME. :p I love the Lord, so I choose to serve Him, and then, ever so gradually, serving takes precedence over connecting with Him. Without meaning to, I start loving service or sacrifice for God, over loving Him, first and foremost. I guess it's why the first commandment is first----"I am the Lord your God...you shall have no other gods before me." God knows how easily messed up our hearts can become. It seems like mine is just hell-bent on making anything a god---including serving God, or sacrificing for God. And then there are the innocuous things like Facebook, working out, or even relationships that can vie for preeminence in my heart I went to see a cardiologist a week or two ago, as I'm supposed to do, for a periodic check-up. And spiritually, that's what I must do, time and time again. I must get my heart checked, very regularly, by the Spirit who shows me again and again (and yet again) where I've gotten off track and then gently leads me back to where I'm meant to be.

good news!

2011-04-04T20:12:00.000-07:00

So many good things have been happening in my life (and my kids' lives) lately! I feel like "my cup runneth over" in a serious way!

- my son, Andrew, got into American University! His acceptance at AU is practically a miracle, because Andrew has always found school boring. So it's either a tribute to his maturity and discipline or an act of God. (In all likelihood, it's both! :) AU seems perfect to me---one, because it's a good school, and two, because it's close to home. For me, this means more chances to love (and feed) my boy again! Hooray!

- my daughter, Cristina, has been job-hunting, since she graduates from her university in May. She had a phone interview for a position in Seville, Spain (where she herself spent a semester of her sophomore year). The next day, they asked her to be a part of another phone interview. I don't know if she'll get the job, but to have two interviews back-to-back is an encouraging thing! We absolutely love Espana and are praying she gets this job which seems tailor-made for her.

- my daughter, Emily, got accepted to particpate in a foreign language study program through the State Department this summer. If all of her paperwork gets turned in on time (the deadline is fast-approaching, so I better get on the stick), she'll get to go to China for 7-8 weeks this summer! We are thrilled for her to have this experience. Even as a kid, she loved anything having to do with China. One year, she even requested a Chinese-themed birthday party!

- my daughter, Rebeca, dined at the White House last Wednesday night. It was a "Remarkable women of DC" event, so I guess she qualified somehow! :) (Actually, a teacher at Wilson invited her and a handful of other girls to go.) She sat at a table with Hillary Swank and got to chat with Michelle Kwan. She also was able to hug Michelle Obama, as the evening drew to a close. If you look at the picture, you might just be able to make her out, seated at the nearest table to the right of Michelle. I told her, "This might be your first visit to the White House, but it will not be your last." :)

- tonight, I went to a reception celebrating the Congressional Bank Baseball Classic program and Mayor Vincent Gray came and plopped down right next to me. (He actually, unknowingly, took Mitch's seat.) He proceeded to take off the three Blackberries attached to his belt and settled in until it was his turn to speak. Toward the end of the evening, I won a door prize! (I later told the mayor that he brought me good luck. :)

- finally, our church's new senior pastor started her job at Woods today! I love her spirit and her vision and I can't wait to see what God does through her, as she leads us.

All of these things are fabulous and, trust me, I am enjoying them for the gifts that they are. But NONE of them compare to the good news that we get to celebrate in just a few Sundays----the good news of God's love for us, demonstrated in Christ's sacrificial death and powerful resurrection. That news is life-changing, in ways that a dinner or a trip will never be. Don't get me wrong----I am thankful for all of the good news that comes my way, but I'm especially thankful for the everlasting impact of the BEST news of all!

matters of life and death

2011-03-25T12:14:00.000-07:00

There was a funeral service held at our church yesterday for a mother who passed away recently and very suddenly. I attended the service and was struck with how heart-wrenching and difficult it is to lose a loved one. Though I did not know her, I could see the impact she had on her family and community.

I lost a very dear friend when I was in my 20's but since then I haven't lost any close family or friends. I can't imagine the depth of pain and hurt that such a loss must cause. I know that God understands it, though. The Bible tells us that Jesus wept at Lazarus's grave, even though He knew that He would raise Lazarus but a few moments later.

I was reminded yesterday that even though our hearts may stop beating and death may separate us for a time, something more powerful keeps us connected. It's love. Romans 8:38-39 says "For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

The mother who passed away never stopped loving her children and husband, and they will never stop loving her, even though they are apart for now. Their love for each other is stronger than death. And God's love is even stronger. We experience it through His constant sustaining presence throughout our lives. This thought is encapsulated in Nichole Nordeman's powerful song,"I AM".

oh the depravity of our hearts!

2011-03-22T20:41:00.000-07:00

The longer I live, the more aware I become of the depravity of my heart. I look back at myself as a young believer, and I think I defined my sin as bad behaviors---losing patience with my mom, telling a white lie, etc. But today I see that the behaviors are just the symptoms of my lost heart. The real problem is deep inside---my motives and thoughts that are often far from holy. I have to keep giving myself to God over and over again---asking him to forgive me and starting anew, asking him to cleanse me from the inside out. I don't want to be like the Pharisees who Jesus likened to whitewashed tombs (looking good and oh-so-pious, from the outside, but rotten and dying on the inside.)

What brings all this up?! Believe it or not, it's the Facebook thing again. As you know, I gave it up for Lent and what I miss most is playing Scrabble. Well, ever since I did that, I've noticed myself scrambling (or should I say "scrabbling" ;) to replace the space that Scrabble took up. I've played live games with my family, tried to play on my daughter's ipad (not half as fun, since I play against strangers and hours can go by between turns) and even just surfed the web for the latest trivia on movie stars and such, just to kill time and disengage from life.

As I've observed myself, I started to see that I was honoring the letter of the law (not getting on FB) but not the spirit of the law (moving toward God and real life, and away from distractions).

My husband found himself doing the same thing I was. For Lent, he said he'd only watch t.v. if others were watching with him. The benefits were two-fold---first, he'd probably end up watching less t.v., and secondly, if he did watch, it'd be a more social activity. The next thing he knew, he was watching movies on his laptop because, you see, he hadn't made any vow or promise regarding movie-watching. :}

You might think to yourself---oh, watching t.v. isn't so bad! And there's nothing wrong with Scrabble, for goodness sake! You're right on both counts. But what we realized is that we are surrendering too much of our time and hearts to these things, rather than to God. We want to yield more of ourselves to him, not to so-called "soft addictions." Again, it's not the outward stuff that matters; it's the heart. And my point is that the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. May God continue to have mercy on us and to work on all of us---from the inside out.

songwriting is not for everyone

2011-03-18T17:30:00.000-07:00

Like the rubberneckers who slow traffic, because they just can't resist seeing the car accident, like those strangely fascinated by Charlie Sheen's downward spiral, I have become hooked by this horrible, no-good, very bad song called "Friday". And it seems I'm not the only one! If you haven't seen it yet, then you've probably heard about it.

Here's the background. Apparently, there's a company in L.A. called Ark Music that helps young artists get a feel for the recording industry. Thirteen year-old Rebecca Black had her mom pay the $2000 and Rebecca got the choice to pick between 2 songs to record. (I'm pretty sure Rebecca picked the wrong song! :P)

It was released on March 11th and when somebody at Comedy Central stumbled upon it and posted it on their blog (under the title "songwriting isn't for everyone"), it became a viral sensation for better or for worse! (I think it was for "worse".)

My "favorite" part is the bridge, if you can hang in there that long. It's around 2:06 on the video.

Since I've been songwriting myself in recent years, I am strangely mesmerized by this song. I've only watched it once. I'm afraid to watch it more, because I hear that it can easily become an earworm. You've been forewarned....

real life

2011-03-16T16:48:00.000-07:00

I don't think I mentioned this earlier, but I gave up Facebook for Lent. It seems silly for an adult to have to do this (at least, that's what my daughter tells me), but I have to admit that I'd grown quite accustomed to logging on multiple times per day. They say that most people get on FB 12 times a day. I hate to admit it, but I'm part of that statistic!

Primarily I got on to play Scrabble with a few friends. And somehow, our slow-mo games of one turn per day turned into several turns a day and, then multiple games going at once. Over time, the urge to log on to see if it was my turn grew and grew. I got a kick out of big-scoring turns, and especially from the occasional "bingo" (using all 7 letters in one turn, with a bonus of 50 points). What's a nine-letter word for Scrabble addict? HildaGore! ;)

I realized that this was a time-sucker and a distraction from real life, so when Lent came around, I knew I needed to give it up. It has been harder than I care to admit.

I was going to say that I don't miss reading people's statuses, but I do! I hate the posts that sound like twitter accounts, e.g. "going to work", "heading to lunch", etc., but I miss hearing/seeing what my friends are up to, and what's on their hearts and minds. Even the silly wall posts of a baby laughing at ripping paper, I miss! (In case you missed that one, the link is below!)

I pray that I use the non-Scrabble, non-FB time for more productive and spiritual things. For one thing, I can focus on connecting with my friends in real life, rather than virtually (a much better idea, don't you think?)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RP4abiHdQpc

all we can do is pray?

2011-03-13T15:45:00.000-07:00

Like many of you, my heart is breaking over the recent earthquake and tsunami that has affected thousands of Japanese people! I just read online that over 10,000 are presumed dead.

Do you feel as helpless as I do? Japan is so far away and the need is so great; it's overwhelming. I recently heard someone say "All we can do is pray." I disagree.

Praying is actually a great place to start. Entrusting people and situations to the care of the heavenly Father is critical, of course. Praying for grace, strength and aid to arrive is a must. But if we stay on our knees, it isn't true faith. From our knees, we need to spring into action.

James said "Faith without works is dead, being by itself." When we serve, we reflect the love and grace of our Lord that we speak of and sing about.

I may not be able to fly over there to lend a physical hand, but I can make sure that doctors and aid workers and others do. And, yes, I can and will continue to pray for the Japanese people. The threat of leaking nuclear reactors and imminent meltdowns certainly gives us a reason to get our knees. But, please, let's not stay there!

from the heart

2011-03-08T14:45:00.000-08:00

Just a week or two ago, Pam Fusting, the director of children's ministries at our church, asked me to drop by the beginning of the Sunday school hour to talk to the children. She said that they were doing a series on discipleship and she wanted me to share with them what it meant, to me, to be a disciple of Christ. Such a simple question, right? But as I thought it over, I hardly knew where to begin!

How could I begin to capture how it was that I started to follow Jesus and all that He means to me? My story, of course, begins before I was born. God spared me from harm while I was still in my mother's womb. He carried me when I had open-heart surgery and later when my heart broke over my parents' divorce. From way back then to today, God has continually blessed and sustained me through all of the ups and downs of life.

I seriously had no clue how I could possibly encapsulate all of those ideas in a 2-4 minute talk, in front of the children. And then it struck me----of course! I needed to write a song! And so, I did. It was nothing fancy; I kept it plain and simple. And the kids liked it!
It started like this:

Before I was born, God saw me.

Inside my mom, he formed me.

He kept me safe from harm,

before I was born.

When I sang it later for the worship team, they really liked it, too, and they suggested that we unveil it for a future baptismal Sunday. It made me happy because I hadn't sweated over the song it all. I was just sharing my heart!

The cool thing is, I'm surrounded by people doing the same. This past week, my daughter wrote a song as part of an assignment for her English class. (It turned out great!) My friend Jacque, on the worship team, has written a beautiful song that we are going to sing on Easter Sunday. And Alan, also on the worship team, has written some excellent music for several original songs that we hope to include on a cd project that we're putting together to celebrate the church's centennial!

I'm getting a kick out of all of these creative juices flowing out, all over the place! Lately, I've even written up some lyrics for a couple of country songs. (Watch out, Taylor Swift! ;) I doubt they'll make the cut for our cd project, but, nevertheless, I'm going to keep on sharing my heart... (Hey, that sounds like it could be a song title, doesn't it!?! ;)

Love is a many-splendored thing

2011-02-25T20:55:00.000-08:00

A while back, some folks from National Presbyterian asked Mitch and I if we'd be willing to be co-m.c.'s for their Valentine's Day event entitled "Love is a many-splendored thing". Since Mitch had a history of doing silly run-on skits and characters for various church functions, they wanted him (and me, by association) to liven the event up.

We soon realized that agreeing to do it, and coming up with a lively script were two different things. I mean, we'd written little skits and scripts before, but, this time around, whenever we sat down to put pen to paper (or, more accurately, sit in front of the computer to brainstorm ideas), we were coming up dry. We felt pressure because we knew that the people running the event expected us to be hilarious. And it didn't help that they'd insisted that we play the roles of Romeo and Juliet, as we m.c.'ed, (When I mentioned to my son that we were going to be Romeo and Juliet, he was like, "Um, weren't they younger?" ;)

So, yes, we were feeling under the gun. But after some prayer, and after a friend helped me borrow some costumes from the Children's Theatre of Annapolis, things started to fall into place.

One of the most unexpected benefits of our taking this on, for me, was to rediscover how much my husband could make me laugh. You know how it goes----you love your spouse dearly, but in the grind of the daily routine, your conversations can tend to become more business ("what time do we need to pick up the kids," "we're out of hot sauce, can you run to the store,") and less pleasure ("you complete me" ;).

But as we rehearsed our big finale ("Somewhere" from West Side Story), Mitch would make the goofiest expressions or come up with the silliest ideas----like pretending to be in pain as he struggled to get down on one knee, singing "somehow-ow-ow". :) We laughed and laughed.

The event went well, by all accounts. For that I am grateful. But I'm even more grateful that I am blessed to have by my side, day by day, my own dear Romeo.

memory lane continued

2011-02-06T12:51:00.000-08:00

Behold a few of the promised pics. Here, my sister and I are wearing fake braids and little Mexican skirts. (I'm on the right.) I later wore this skirt for a school talent show. I sang "Cielito lindo" and all the kids later asked me "Why were you singing the Frito Bandito jingle?" They had NO idea that it was a legitimate traditional song from Mexico.

I like the picture of us reading to my baby sister Emily. Clearly, she is enthralled. No wonder she loves reading to this day!!! ;)

The picture at the church is iconic in our family history. I am looking so sweet and innocent, like butter wouldn't melt in my mouth. My sister, peeking at me from the corner of her eye, clearly is unconvinced. My mom, great with child, is smiling at the camera, completely oblivious to the little drama taking place beside her.

memory lane

2011-02-05T11:03:00.001-08:00

My mother-in-law has embarked on a project of epic proportions. She is scanning all of her photos from decades of photo albums and is converting them into digital pictures. So far, she's scanned over 900 photographs! I think she started with pictures of her in her single days and right now she's gotten as far as around the time Mitch and I got married.

She inspired me to hunt around for my own family pictures. I remembered that my father had taken a lot of slides when we were growing up, so I asked my mom recently if she knew where any of the carousels were stored. Well, she found one and gave it to me and just this past week, I started converting some of my childhood pics into digital images! It's a treasure for me because my kids had no idea what my sisters and I looked like when we were children. And, boy, were we cute! :) I have the pics to prove it and hope to post one or two in my next post. So stay tuned (or, at the very least, be forewarned! ;)

helping the homeless

2011-01-31T13:27:00.000-08:00

My friend John recently told me a story of how he had been inspired to reach out to the homeless. A friend of his had heard a sermon about giving the homeless dignity, if nothing else. Find out their name, treat them as you would want to be treated, the pastor urged. So, when a homeless woman approached the guy right outside the grocery store, he thought it'd be a great chance to put into practice what he had heard. The woman said that she needed money to buy her children food. The guy replied, "I won't give you money, but let's go right back in the store here, and I'll buy you some food for your children." While in line, they were subject to the stares of other shoppers. The woman smelled badly and was unkempt. The guy helping her felt like he was extending a hand to Jesus, as he helped the "least of these."

John found an opportunity to apply all he had heard as well. Shortly after his conversation with his friend, John was on the subway in New York, when a homeless man approached with a cup asking for some money. "What's your name?" John asked. "Stan. What's yours?" the fellow answered warily. "John," he replied, as he put some money in his cup, "Have a nice day!" "It's cold out," Stan replied gruffly. "Yeah, but, it still can be a nice day," John stammered. "Makes you wanna cut somebody's head off!" John started to worry. Heads started to turn. "Makes you wanna kill somebody!" Stan continued. "How much did you put in the cup?" Stan asked menacingly, "Looked like 75 cents!" "It's all I had," John whimpered. John then proceeded to get off at the very next opportunity, even though it wasn't his stop!

Two stories of men who wanted to make a difference, but one didn't turn out at all as it was "supposed to". When you extend a helping hand, you hope for the happy ending, but there are no guarantees.

Our church housed homeless guests this past week, in conjunction with a program called "Winter Relief" that provides shelter for the homeless during the coldest winter months. Over 60 people found shelter at our church, and 300+ volunteers made it happen. It wasn't easy or comfortable. But, then again, life isn't easy or comfortable for the homeless, either.

wow

2011-01-18T15:38:00.000-08:00

That one word says it all---"Wow!" There weren't tongues of fire visible on people's heads and you couldn't hear God's voice audibly, but all present were able to palpably feel God's Spirit working in our midst. It was a beautiful thing. And even if you weren't particularly spiritually attuned, you could hardly miss it! It seemed to me as if the Spirit had come with a spiritual 2x4, bopping us upside the head with it (affectionately, of course ;)!

The setting was Woods Church, just last Sunday. The candidate, presented by the Pastoral Nominating Committee, came to preach at all three services, and afterward, the church was holding a congregational meeting where we would vote on whether or not to extend the call to the candidate.

We are a church known for being a "big tent", which is a gracious way of saying that we are a group of people who often see things from varied theological and political perspectives. It wasn't at all clear how we would respond to the pastor's sermon. She did come to us wholeheartedly endorsed by the committee, but some in the congregation had reservations.

I can't put my finger on how the Spirit did it, exactly, but as Susan DeWyngaert preached (her message was entitled "Remember your name!"), and as we praised God, there was a sense that we were experiencing a holy moment. (It was enough to make you want to remove your sandals, as Moses did! :)

At the congregational meeting, two members of the PNC spoke and Susan also shared some of her thoughts and answered a few questions. She made it clear that she was coming to our church to represent Jesus Christ, and that she was prepared to lead our church and equip our members for ministry, both within and outside the walls of our church.

In short order, we voted and while the votes were being tallied, we praised some more, culminating in the "Waves of mercy" song that the youth so enjoy (and that they even helped us lead, from the chancel). There was tangible joy even before the results poured in. When the votes were finally tallied, we saw that there was overwhelming affirmation to extend the call to Susan, trusting that God will bless and use her in our midst. God did something beautiful and kind of unexpected that morning. When God moves like that, sometimes all you can say is "Wow!"

pay attention

2011-01-13T07:43:00.000-08:00

A friend of my daughter's invited her to a evening of meditation. Emily's friend is a Buddhist and Emily asked me if it'd be okay if she went. Her friend, Sonia, had accompanied her to Young Life events (and even Young Life camp), knowing that it was a Christian organization, so Emily felt it was only fair for her to accept Sonia's invitation, in turn. I agreed.

In recent years, I have read a few books by Buddhist monks and authors, and I've often found them thought-provoking, especially when it comes to the concept of "mindfulness". I appreciate the challenge to hone my skills of observation---and in particular, to observing what's going on inside of me. It's far too easy for most of us to skate along the surface of life, and miss what's happening beneath the surface.

It's like this. Say I lose patience with my children or get frustrated with a sibling. It'd be easy for me to simply throw up a quick prayer, asking for forgiveness or strength in the moment, and then try to muddle through and vow to respond differently to them the next time around.

In that common scenario, though I did look upward, I didn't look inward, and next time, chances are great, that I'd respond in the exact same way. I didn't change or grow, and neither did anyone around me.

A better step, in line with Buddhist thinking, and not at all in conflict with Christian principles, might be to ask myself "Why am I irritated with my children right now?" or "Why did my husband's response bother me?" or "What am I afraid of?" or "Why am I feeling anxious?" By paying attention to what's going on inside of me, I get the chance to objectively observe emotions that are contributing to my outward reaction and I might learn something about myself. I can then communicate that to my family and to God. "Actually, I'm overreacting because of something that happened to me earlier today." or "God, help me let go of my anxiety over my sister's choices that are outside of my control."

This opens up a window to my heart, and invites the listener in---the very one that I had at first been accidentally pushing away. Trust me, I'm not naturally the introspective type, but over the years, I have become less and less satisfied with superficial relationships. Both with God and with others, I must be willing to first observe who I am and what's happening and then dare to be vulnerable enough to share what I've discovered.

Back to the Buddhist meditation night, my daughter really enjoyed it. She felt like what she learned was in line with her faith. And, interestingly enough, that night, when she opened her devotional book, the reading for the day was entitled "Pay attention!"

unfolding uncertainties

2011-01-03T19:14:00.000-08:00

Our home is still decorated with wooden mice with pipe-cleaner tails, stockings held by golden angels over the mantel, and a St. Nicholas quilt at the bottom of the stairs. Our tree is still up (though its needles are now like porcupine quills) and our outdoor multicolored lights are on 24/7 (just because we forget to unplug them in the morning :).

Truth be told, I am eager to put away all of the decorations that early in the season felt warm and traditional, but now feel like clutter. I can't wait to get everything back to normal. But the older I get the more I realize that "back to normal" is never quite what I expect.

Some dear friends in ministry in Nicaragua recently sent me a quote that encapsulates what I'm talking about:

Here is the paradox: the very things we now wish that we could hold onto and keep safe from change were themselves originally produced by changes. And many of those changes, in their day, looked just as daunting as any in the present do. No matter how solid and comfortable and necessary the status quo feels today, it was once new, untried and uncomfortable. Change is not only the path ahead, but it is also the path behind us, the one which we traveled along to wherever we are not trying to stay.
---William Bridges, "The way of transition"

This will be a year of changes for my family, as three of my four children are graduating from their respective schools. And there is change in store for the church, too---as we just received word that a candidate for the position of senior pastor has been identified!

As a matter of fact, I can pretty much guarantee that change is in store for each and every one of us, no matter how stable our lives may appear on the outside. And along with the inevitable changes will come questions, fears, and uncertainties.

Most days, I get excited at the start of the new year, when I think about how anything can happen. But at other times, I suddenly realize that that same thought should probably have me shaking in my boots.

But that's when faith kicks in, right? It means trusting when suddenly there's no secure footing. It means praying when I feel like tearing my hair out. It means embracing the unknown because of the One I know.

an Advent poem

2010-12-13T06:35:00.000-08:00

Counting down the days till Christmas-----just 12 days to go! I really do love this season. In the midst of the busyness, however, I have to constantly remind myself to be still and know that He is God. I composed a little poem to highlight the dichotomy of physical preparations for Christmas, and the spirtual.

Picking out paper that glitters like gold
it's a two for $5 deal,
am I selling my soul

Running late for the meeting, my mom's health is poor
I need to head out one more time for the store

I long for some peace but can't rest when I get it
It'll just about drive me insane if I let it

My heart full of fears, my head full of doubts
It's cramped for the One Christmas is all about

Mary said "Yes", I say "I guess"
I want to make room,
not be wasting my breath

singing the carols with a voice that belies
the messiness, craziness all jammed inside

rather than running around to consume
teach me, o Dear One, how to make room

push aside papers, good deals, and deep fears,
subsume me with Presence, not presents, this year

all heaven breaks loose!

2010-12-06T09:05:00.000-08:00

On Friday night, I went to a performance of Handel's Messiah with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. Woods' own Tim Meredith, a member of the Baltimore Symphonic Chorale, invited me to come watch the performance. The Myerhoff Symphony was plush and decorated with twinkling lights. There was a sense of expectation in the air. We settled into our seats, the lights dimmed, and the concert began. The string section kicked things off, and were joined by oboes, organ, timpani, harpsichord and more. It was magnificent and majestic.

I loved how each section was based on Scripture. As many of you know, the oratorio tells the story of Christ---part 1 is about his coming, part 2, his sacrificial death and resurrection, and part 3 is about his victory over sin and death. I tried to soak it all in, but it was overwhelming. It was like a lovely, heavenly kaleidoscope of music and voices---all to God's glory. But I just couldn't capture all of the complexity and nuances of the piece, and at times I felt small and unworthy.

Then I rememberd the time I took my guitar to a guitar shop downtown. It's called The Guitar Shop. :) It's a small, cramped store----filled from top to bottom with instruments for sale and under repair, sheet music and dust. :} Still, the store has a strong following because the guys who work there are very committed and capable.

I had just had my guitar for a short time and I remember the guys there were oohing and aahing over it. They were like, "Whoa! A Taylor!" And I was like, "Yeah, I know. I'm not worthy." Then one guy asked, "Do you like playing it?" And I said, "Yeah." And he said, 'Then, you're worthy." :)

In much the same way, God deems us worthy of redemption, even if we don't feel we deserve it. At this special time of year, heaven is busting loose all over the place. May we keep our eyes and ears attuned to the angels' songs. God is reaching out to us with unexpected grace in ordinary places!

getting over me

2010-11-26T08:39:00.000-08:00

On our ride home from my sister's yesterday, Cristina (my oldest daughter) was telling me that one reason she likes going on mission trips is because they help her get over herself. I completely understood what she was talking about. It seems too easy in the States, to get caught up in our own little worlds. We fret, we worry, we obsess about things that have little importance in the big scheme of things. Like Narcissus, we fall in love with ourselves and miss all that's going on around us. (In the Greek myth, Narcissus ended up starving to death, since he couldn't bear to leave the beauty of his own reflection in the pool.) And, yes, we end up the same way, spiritually----trying to sate ourselves, but dying of thirst for something that truly satisfies.

In contrast, on a mission/work trip, we know that we're in this new place for someone other than ourselves. Without mirrors or magazines around to remind us what we're supposed to be attaining, we forget about ourselves, roll up our sleeves and get to work. And it is SO satisfying and rewarding.

I've been reminded lately that I don't need to leave the country to gain perspective on what really matters. It comes from my time with God. I hear it in song lyrics, encouragement from a friend, and, most importantly, in prayers and the Word. When I get a glimpse of the enormity, beauty, and sovereignty of God, everything else fades into the background.

Here are a couple of verses that have stood out to me lately, that I hope encourage you as well:

Psalm 16:11 "You will show me the way of life, granting me the joy of your presence, and the pleasure of living with you forever."

Malachi 4:2 "But for you who fear my name, the Sun of Righteousness will rise with healing in his wings. And you will go free, leaping with joy like calves let out to pasture."

Grounded by God's constant presence, I can be free to leap with joy like a calf let out to pasture. (Another version says "leaping with joy like well-fed calves." :)

I can just picture a little calf leaping around on a grassy hillside, not a care in the world. I want to be like that, don't you? So satisfied by the joy of God's presence, I'm no longer bound up by worries, self-absorption or fear. I'm released to play, serve, and just...be.

There's a lot to be thankful for, in the special season of Thanksgiving, but I think I'm most thankful for the One who loved me and saved me---the One who keeps saving me (even from myself).

Hairspray!

2010-11-24T12:45:00.000-08:00

In the grocery store today, I ran into a mom who congratulated me on my daughter's performance (and subsequent Cappie nomination :) in her high school's production of "Hairspray". Her son played (Em played the best friend, Penny.)The show was just last weekend and it was one of the best high school productions I'd seen in a long while. It really was magnificent! The pool of talent at Emily's high school is deep and wide (hey, that reminds me of a song! ;) Seriously, the kids involved---from the leads to the ensemble members----were enthusiastic and capable.

I have to rave about Em for a sec (or two :). As one of the reviewers put it, she was "delightfully awkward" as the girl with the overprotective mom. We were worried about how she'd do because in the weeks leading up to the show she had a cold she just couldn't shake it. So it was a relief when she nailed her part!

Going back to the conversation in the grocery store (amidst many last-minute Thanksgiving shoppers, yours truly included :), the mom noted that the best part of the drama department is the sense of community it fosters. Kids who, on any given day, might just pass each other in the hall without acknowledging each other, suddenly are thrown in together to create something bigger than themselves. They put in hours of hard work at rehearsals---memorizing lines, blocking, dance steps, cues, etc. In the process, they connect and camaraderie is forged.

I'm grateful that Em had that experience---community, connection, camaraderie---and a fabulous musical, to boot!

intruder

2010-11-15T20:29:00.000-08:00

My girls love to have sleepovers. You'd think they were in elementary school, but, no they're high school age. It's still somehow the thing to do. :} Last Friday night, my daughter had 8 or 9 friends sleep over. (We lost count.) They did all the typical sleepover things---watched movies, talked into the wee hours of the morning, slept a little, and ate waffles for breakfast.

On Saturday night, it was just us at home. Or so we thought. My husband, Mitch, woke me on Sunday morning to ask if the girls had had someone else sleep over. No, I reminded him, we hadn't. "Someone's in our house!" he retorted. Disbelieving, I rolled over, and tried to get a few more minutes of sleep.

After a few moments, Mitch came up and told me what happened. Indeed, there HAD been someone in our house! When Mitch had gone back downstairs, he confronted the man sleeping (in a seated position, with sunglasses on) on our couch! "Hey! What are you doing here?" The guy, startled awake, mumbled something about having come in for a cup of coffee. "What's your name?" "Miguel," he answered. "You've gotta get out of here," Mitch told him. The fellow got up, walked out the door, and started down the front steps, when he turned and asked "Can I get my hat?" He came back in and looked around but it was nowhere to be found. Then he left.

I peppered Mitch with questions. Wasn't he worried the guy might be armed? What did he look like? How long had he been there? Should we call the police?

After the initial shock, I wanted to make light of it all. It suddenly struck me that this was like the urban version of "Goldilocks and the three bears": Miguelocks and the four Gores! :}

It was strange, and unsettling, though, if the truth were told. The guy could have stolen just about anything or, worse, attacked our daughters or us.

But we defintely learned our lesson. First, make sure all doors are securely locked before going to bed. And secondly, and most importantly, remember to thank God for his constant protection.

a time to retreat, a time to advance...

2010-11-14T11:58:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday, I was tied up in knots! Not figuratively, but literally! :) The Praise Team had a mini retreat at Patrice's place in Annapolis. We shared a meal together (yummy), worked on Advent and Christmas music (fa, la, la, la, la) and played a game (ha, ha) or two.

The "human knot" game is something of a de-stressor (not quite on a par with a massage, but still quite enjoyable!) Everyone takes someone's hand and, once the group is good and tangled up, the object is to figure out how to become untangled without releasing anyone's hand.

It was fun to cooperate on something other than music for a change, and interesting to observe how leadership and problem-solving skills bubbled to the surface.

Yesterday, I was on a retreat with the church session and staff. We also did a little bit of everything---worship, lectio divina, energizers, brainstorming and more.

With two weekends in a row of retreating, I feel like it's about time to advance. :) I pray that all of the ideas, connecting time and prayer result now in some positive forward motion for the sake of Christ's kingdom!

Jessica's daily affirmations

2010-10-29T18:44:00.000-07:00

So, when I was a kid, I remember hearing the phrase "I'm getting better and better everyday and in every way." I think the idea was for people to repeat this to themselves in the morning, as they were looking in the mirror. The pop psychology of the 1950's and 60's said that positive attitudes would eventually lead to success. (Think: Dale Carnegie's "How to win friends and influence people" or Norman Vincent Peale's "The power of positive thinking")

This philosophy seemed so ridiculous and self-centered to me, until I actually happened upon Carnegie's book and began to read it. I then realized that it was based on some Christian principles. Have hope and faith----a vision. Be confident. Ask people about themselves. Get to know them and their interests. Care about them. Smile. There was nothing I could quibble with in his book!

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't attend Zig Ziglar seminars or anything, but I do believe that what we think and say influences who we are and what we do. Proverbs 18:21 says: "The tongue has the power of life and death."

You've got to check out this video of little Jessica and her "daily affirmations". I want to take a page out of her book and think on all of the blessings that surround me, with an attitude of gratitude!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qR3rK0kZFkg

Trust me, it'll be worth the cutting and pasting! (I'll figure out how to make these links work one of these days...)

‎"God loves what is earthly."

2010-10-23T11:40:00.000-07:00

I stumbled upon this quote from Hildegard of Bingen, a German Benedictine abbess from the 11th century, in a collection of devotional thoughts by Sue Monk Kidd, entitled "First Light".

Though I know little about the context of the quote, it stuck with me because it reminded me that God is the God of all moments, here and now----from the most mundane to the most divine. I think we have a tendency to compartmentalize our lives---we imagine that the spiritual/holy moments are found when are praying or at church or serving our community or the needy in a very intentional way. And we regard the rest of our time as ordinary and in-between, and, perhaps, a-spiritual.

But..."God loves what is earthly." What we spend our time doing is not separate from His presence or unholy. Take this situation I experienced at the grocery store last week, for example:

I was at the Whole Foods and the lines at each register were unusually long. (Note to self and other DC dwellers: do not go to the Whole Foods near Georgetown around dinner time.) At any rate, I counted up my items and realized that I had too many to qualify for the "15 or fewer" express lane. Disappointed, I decided to just practice patience and wait my turn.

That was when I heard a conversation begin in the express lane, right next to me. "You're leaving those things behind?" a woman asked, with an annoyed tone in her voice. There was an abandoned cart near the register with a good 10 items in it (some of which looked perishable.) "Yes. I'm in a hurry," the other woman responded, "so I just picked my most important items and am leaving the rest."

That seemed to settle the issue, albeit not perfectly. Well, imagine my surprise (and internal outrage) a few moments later, when the woman in the express line got to the register, and began to fish out the additional items from the other cart, as if she had suddenly realized that she had forgotten them. I was so mad, because she wasn't playing by the rules! It wasn't fair and seemed especially so to me in that moment, because I was purposefully doing the right thing! I felt like saying something snide like, "Well, that's one way to do it."

But then I looked at the woman behind "15-and-over woman" in line, and she was not fuming at all. She was chatting happily with her children.

And that's when it struck me that grace in this moment might mean not saying a word. After all, on any given day, I could be the one not playing by the rules and needing grace.

And this is why Hildegard of Bingen's quote resonates with me. Dealing with an annoying situation at the grocery store, sharing kung pao shrimp with a friend :), spending hours preparing dinner for your kid home from college, and then cleaning up afterwards when you're bone tired and would rather just crawl into bed----all of these moments are terribly earthly and somehow holy, in a way we can't quite comprehend.

a fresh perspective on the zoo

2010-10-17T20:18:00.001-07:00

Even though the National Zoo is right around the corner from my house, it's been ages since I've been there. But I got to go last week, with my friend Kathy. We went together to celebrate her birthday. It was exceptional for a number of reasons. First, the weather was simply gorgeous! It was an absolutely perfect fall day. Second, it wasn't crowded at all. And third, I got to take everything in from a new perspective.

You see, Kathy is blind. She was born prematurely and was given oxygen to help her lungs develop. What doctors didn't realize at the time was that too much oxygen could affect infants' sight. So she's been blind since she was just days old.

We've known each other for some time (we met at National Presbyterian Church years ago) but it had been a while since we'd gotten together. She told me recently that her birthday was approaching and that she had no plans.

I wanted to do something special with her, so my daughter, Emily, and I googled ideas for activities with blind people, and the zoo came up! I was shocked because I wondered how Kathy could possibly enjoy it, since she wouldn't be able to tell what the animals were doing.

But when I asked her what she thought of the idea, she liked it, so we decided to go for it. Our first stop when we got there was the "petting zoo" area; it was set up like a farm, with a barn and farm animals around---cows and goats and such. This was a treat! Being a city girl, I had forgotten how huge cows were!

At our next stop---the prairie dogs, there were bronze casts of them, so Kathy was able to touch them to get an idea of their shape and size.

As we moved on, I became frustrated, because many of the animals were just sleeping or not making a peep. But Kathy told me to just describe them to her. As I spoke, I found myself marveling at details that I might have otherwise missed----how the zebra's stripes weren't like stripes on a sweater (straight up and down) but more interlocking in style. And how the elephant was stepping on the bamboo with his foot, and breaking it with his trunk, so that he could eat it more easily. And how pandas were bears about our height---Kathy and I are both on the shorter side---but heftier than us, of course :).

I loved taking it all in, alongside my friend. It gave me a new appreciation for the beauty of God's creation and all the ways we could delight in it.

emotional rollercoasters

2010-10-02T13:18:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine had as his Facebook status recently: "I want to get off of this emotional rollercoaster---I'm all out of tickets!" :) Boy, have I "been there/done that". When good things come my way, I jump up and down (literally). When there are bumps in the road, I'm in the pit of despair. Most people are probably not wired the way I am. (And truly, we can all thank God for that! ;) But what I do know is that we have this in common----life is not dull or flat. It is chock full of ups and downs, both big and little.

I used to think that the abundant life Jesus promised in the familiar passage in John 10:10 meant it would be all "ups" and "adventure" with Jesus. He said, "I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly." And abundant means "a lot", right? So, it makes sense that we'd all expect a lot of good things to come from life with Christ. Of course, a lot of good things do come, but it doesn't mean that life is just smooth sailing. Jesus doesn't take the dips and climbs away (though, I do so wish he sometimes would). He simply goes through them with us, holding our hand.

Here are some highs and lows that Jesus has recently helped me through:

- my computer at work got infected with a virus! :( Though this isn't a huge deal, it is one of those pesky bumps in the road that seems to make everything else 10x more complicated.

- my friend and Woods colleague, Christie Cory got married just two weeks ago. (See the pic---I'm blowing bubbles in the background. :) Christie and Louis had more than their fair share of bumps in the road as they planned their wedding, but on the very day, they were on cloud 9 and we were all so happy to share in their joy!

- my high school reunion. This was another joy, though, I must admit that I wondered beforehand who I would talk to and why I was even going! I got to reconnect with folks I hadn't seen in thirty (yes, thirty) years. It was fascinating and fun----especially when the DJ started playing some of our favorite tunes from back in the day!

- conviction about my prayerlessness. I've been realizing through many recent events and conversations that my prayer life is in need of some drastic resuscitation! (Good thing Jesus is in the resurrection business! :)

- the World Vision Day of Prayer. Each year, World Vision sets aside one day for prayer at the beginning of their new fiscal year. Staff around the world gather to intercede for the work and to commit it to God and for several years in a row, I have led worship for the DC area staff. It is always an honor to do so, since I respect their organization so very much, but for that very same reason, I always get nervous and stressed out beforehand. The Day of Prayer was held yesterday and this year's program went beautifully! From the speaker to the music to the meals to the prayer times---there was a special spirit about it all.

I just pray that the next time the coaster starts to click clack up that hill, I hold onto Jesus for the ride of my life!

GIGO

2010-09-25T09:39:00.000-07:00

Pastor Floyd told me that he is going to preach tomorrow on God being enough for us. If God is enough (and I believe that He is), why do I live my life as if He were not? Why do I find myself and others wanting? Why am I so impatient, unkind, and touchy (to name just a few sins)? Where is the abundant life Jesus has promised?

These questions bring to mind that old computer science term----"garbage in, garbage out" (GIGO). The phrased was coined as a way to remind programmers that if there is an error in their programing software, it will show up. If incorrect figures are plugged in, an incorrect answer will result. The computer just works with what gets plugged into it.

In the same way, as the Bible puts it, if I sow to the flesh, I will reap to the flesh. If I sow to the spirit, I will reap spiritual fruit. My actions have their roots in what I feed my heart. How do I spend my time? With what am I filling my mind? What am I watching? What am I listening to?

I've been thinking recently about the early church and how they fasted and prayed. (See the book of Acts, and especially Acts 13:1-3.) While I've never been very good at fasting from food (my blood sugar would drop and I'd get all shaky----it wasn't pretty), I know I could fast from other things that would help me regain my focus and sow to the spirit.

I was just hanging out with some teens the other day and one of them said he got rid of his FB page because he realized that he could be learning new things on guitar rather than checking out his notifications. The other said he felt he could focus better on his homework if he wasn't chatting on FB in between paragraphs.

In Erwin W. Lutzer's book, "Getting to No", he wrote "What is the best way to take air out of a bottle? Possibly someone could suggest that we build an elaborate vacuum pump to suck out the air. But there is a simpler solution. If we fill the bottle with water, the air has to leave."

I want to pay attention to what I'm filling my life with. I want to fill it with so much good that the not-as-good stuff gets squeezed out. Pray for me to be more intentional about what I spend my time doing, that I (and those around me) might reap the benefits. Maybe instead of GIGO, my life could be BIBO (blessings in, blessings out)! :)

so much to be grateful for....

2010-09-19T17:20:00.001-07:00

I have to admit that I was down in the dumps last week----literally! Monday morning, I found myself wearing rubber gloves, combing through the trash at church. Just how did I get there?

The day before, a Sunday, had been absolutely glorious. It was "kick-off Sunday" for Woods, so there was a sense of enthusiasm everywhere. Despite the rainy weather, we were planning on proceeding with the church family picnic, following the 11:00 service, featuring hot dogs and watermelon (so healthy, I know! ;) When the picnic began, the Hispanic church band, Nu Concept, kicked things off in Zimmerman Hall, as kids bounced in the dragon-shaped moon bounce that was somehow squeezed into the room. (Its scaly head was grazing the ceiling!)

Well, if you know me, you know that it wasn't long before I was bouncing myself. First, I joined in the joyful dancing of members of the Hispanic congregation, then I was grooving to my own team's set of songs, when we got to playing. Then, as the picnic was winding down, I saw some teens about to enter the moonbounce, and I simply couldn't resist. I promptly kicked off my tennis shoes to join them. After a good amount of jumping, seat drops and laughter, , and then the dragon was deflated and folded up to take back to the folks who rented it to us.

My afternoon wasn't done yet, though. Mitch and I have season tickets to the Skins games, so we joined some friends for tailgating and the game against the Cowboys that night. Right after the game started, I looked down only to see that the diamond was missing from my engagement ring! It had fallen out of its setting! (I had been told that the prongs could wear out over time, but I never thought it would happen to MY ring!)

I tried to hope for the best (that I had lost it at church and not in the stadium or stadium parking lot), which was what led me on Monday morning to go through picnic leftovers in the Zimmerman Hall trash cans.

It was for naught, and I was really disappointed, for quite some time, I'm not going to lie. But then I realized two things----first, while the diamond had sentimental and symbolic value, what it represented wasn't lost---the love I share with Mitch. And secondly, I reminded myself that I have SO much to be grateful for. Rather than continuing to mourn the loss of a small material object, I decided then and there to focus on all the good gifts God has given me. I have an AMAZING God, a loving husband, beautiful children, great friends and more! I am thankful that there is so much to celebrate. And I pray that God will continue to give me the grace to do just that.

inspiration

2010-09-05T17:48:00.000-07:00

Inspiration. It's come at me from so many different angles lately. I'm not talking about the proverbial light bulb going off over your head---when a bright idea suddenly comes your way. I'm talking about the feeling you get when you see someone going hard after something, someone who is making a difference, someone who is stepping up and whose actions or attitudes make you want to be more than you are.

Here are some inspirational snapshots of folks that have encouraged me lately, and that I hope will breathe life, hope, and courage into you. That's the root of the word "inspiration", you know----
"in" (blow into) + "spire" (spirit/breath).

1. My brother-in-law, Scott. He is a frequent flier and was flying home from Dallas, Texas, when he was bumped up to First Class. Well, Scott saw a bunch of soldiers in uniform boarding the plane. He decided to give away his seat to one of the soldiers. The guy looked stunned, but grateful. A short time afterward, one of the flight attendants offered Scott a free snack and beverage for his kind gesture. Again, Scott asked that the gift be given to a soldier instead. (He had learned from a seatmate that they were soldiers coming home from Iraq.) Well, the flight attendant later came back and whispered to Scott that what he had done had inspired them and that they (the crew or maybe the airline) were going to make it a policy to give free snacks and drinks to all soldiers in uniform on future flights. Scott didn't set out to do anything extraordinary, but his actions made an impact that will have a ripple effect in days to come.

2. My best friend, Lisa. She has been battling chronic fatigue for over 10 years. Her body has numerous sensitivities and allergies that cause her setbacks on the road to health. She continues to eat well, and do all that she can to be strong. Though her body is fatigued, her spirit is unflagging. She does get discouraged, from time to time, don't get me wrong. But she does not give up. She is tenacious and courageous.

3. Chris Gardner. I just saw the Will Smith movie "The Pursuit of Happyness" last night. It's based on the true story of a man, Chris Gardner, who struggled to provide for his young son. He was at his wits' end, trying to make something of himself. He and his son even ended up homeless for a time, but he worked hard and did not lose heart. (Spoiler alert...) He ended up working for Dean Witter and later establishing his own investment firm. Happy at the end, it was clear that it wasn't the salaried job offer that made him content, but the promise of a secure future for the boy he loved so much.

4. Nick Vujicic. I don't know this man's entire story, but apparently he travels and shares it around the world. He has no limbs, but rather than believing in his limitations, he rises above them, maintaining an attitude of gratitude. Clearly, he's an inspirational speaker because of his positive outlook and extraordinary perspective. (Here's a link to a short promotional piece that features him. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gc4HGQHgeFE)

These individuals have inspired me and I am grateful. Each of us has our own unique challenges and opportunities that we will face in the course of our lives; may we breathe life into each other, along the way.

How He loves

2010-08-27T08:27:00.000-07:00

One thing that made this summer's Dominican Republic/Haiti trip so special was the fact that we shared "our stories" with one another. We didn't ask the teens to tell us their "testimonies", per se (narratives with a focus on how people met Christ), but just their stories----what had shaped them, changed them, challenged them along their journeys in life. I think this helped them be real about it----there was no pressure to talk "Christianese" or make their stories fit a certain mold. (Naturally, though, God and His presence came up in everyone's story.)

A couple of teens or leaders would tell their stories in our evening group meetings, but the sweetest times were when we would spontaneously ask each other "So, what's your story?" We could be in the bucket line or in our room at night with the lights off. And hearts would open up and stories would pour out.

We heard about deaths in the family, arrests, divorce. We heard about God's sparing lives---a near-miss car accident, an attempted suicide. Mostly we realized how crazy and mixed up our lives/hearts are. We found common ground in our "lostness" and need for a Savior.

I led the evening worship times and two girls on the trip taught me a song which we sang more and more passionately as the week wore on. "How he loves" by John McMillan. It's an amazing song about the unrelenting, pursuing, overwhelming love of God. Apparently, John wrote it shortly after learning about the death of a friend in a tragic car accident. He was confused, and angry, and he found comfort in reminding himself of God's sustaining grace and love in the midst of life's hardships.

Here is a version of the song by the David Crowder band.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2FxaUYjRtkc
Just cut and paste it into your browser and let it wash over you. God's love and grace are constant and true---for Dominican, Haitians, and people all over the world. Whatever you're going through, remember that God is a part of your story and sustaining you by grace, more than you realize!

glwa pou Bondye (glory to God)

2010-08-13T20:57:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since my last post! I left the country and went down to the Dominican Republic and Haiti, with Foundation for Peace (FFP). (My last trip to Haiti, shortly after the earthquake, was also with FFP.)

The group I went with worked on the second story of a church, that was to be used for classroom space for a local school. We also worked on a platform for a water cistern, to provide clean water for the community.

The work team was primarily made up of energetic teenagers and adult leaders. It included my husband, my daughters, and some good friends. The team bonded really well and worked so hard. But we received so much in return. Glwa pou Bondye!

I'm still processing all that I saw and experienced. A friend of mine reminded me that in the "olden days", missionaries would travel by boat and have plenty of time to process all of their emotions----grief, joy, sorrow, wonder, etc. I, on the other hand, jumped right back into the fray of life. :P Until I'm ready to tell you a few stories, I'm hoping these pictures will give you an idea of what we saw and lived for 10 days.

Ahoy!

2010-07-16T17:29:00.000-07:00

This week, I set off an adventure with the children of the church, as the assembly leader of Woods' Vacation Bible School program. The VBS theme was "High Seas" and it proved to be as exciting---and sometimes exhausting---as promised! :} But it was worth every minute! It was a blessing to be around the children. I loved hearing the little children's refreshingly honest comments throughout the week. Here are some examples of what I'm talking about:

- In the assembly, when the pirate confessed that he had kidnapped the sailor because he was lonely and he didn't have any friends, a child yelled out "I'll be your friend!" :)

- During prayer time in the sanctuary, children were spontaneously praising God for being everything from "nice" to "overwhelming" and "generous".

- As I introduced a song in the assembly, I heard a child comment to his friend "This song has been stuck in my head every day." And his friend replied "It's been stuck in my head, too.... [pause] I've got a headache from this stupid song." ;)

- A kid came up to tell the joke "What's a pirate's favorite letter? Rrrrrr." (And we had told that same joke earlier in the day. :)

- During the prayer time, I invited children to write down their sins on pieces of paper and then to bring them up and throw them in the trash can. As one child did so, he first stomped on the paper and chucked it into the can, remarking, "Stupid sin!" Another child cheered as he threw it away "I'm forgiven!"

- A mom reported that she overheard her son sitting in the basement last night, singing the "I thank God" song (that we had learned this week), and that he was methodically thanking God for every single toy in his toy box!

I hope to include pics in my next post, but I hope the "snapshots" above give you an idea of what we experienced together. And one final note, as I researched nautical phrases online, so I could incorporate them into our "High Seas" skit, I discovered that the word "Ahoy" (often used by sailors as they cast off to sea) is derived from the Latin "Ad hoj" that stands for "Ad honorem Jesu" or "To the honor of Jesus". It was so cool to find out that the word has a spiritual root. I was able to share that fact with the children this week. I don't know about them, but I hope to never forget it! Ahoy, maties! :)

behind the scenes...(or how to win first prize without really trying ;)

2010-07-09T18:51:00.000-07:00

So, don't know if you've heard, but OUR CHURCH'S FLOAT WON FIRST PRIZE in the annual Severna Park Independence Day Parade!!! I was so excited (and still am, can you tell!?!! ;) Now, let me take you behind the scenes on how we got to where we stand today (as an award-winning praise team and church! ;)

A month or two ago, I learned that the parade theme was "America the Beautiful". Last year's theme was the environment, and team member Joyce Dawson made us a beautiful banner that said "What could be 'greener' than Woods?" :) So, I knew she should be on point for this year's banners.

Well, she surpassed my expectations when she told me that she had made 2 banners for this year's float. And when I saw them, I was blown away! One had a mountain scene and the words "America the beautiful" and the other said "God shed his grace on thee."

The day before the parade, David Nelson, Dave Wengernuk, Joyce and John, and I worked hard to build the frames, and staple the banners onto them. The heat was on, but we didn't let it deter us. And Joyce and I laughed about how far we'd come from the year where we cleaned out the dollar store and decorated our float with red, white, and blue odds and ends (including an inflatable shark! :) This year's float was starting to look like a contender---with banners, flags, bunting, and more!

Plus, this year, Joyce sprang for a few costumes----my daughter Emily agreed to be the Statue of Liberty (she's much taller than I, you see :). Joyce was to be Betsy Ross and at the last minute, Alan stepped in to be Uncle Sam.

We joked beforehand that we were "in it to win it" and that is what we did! Everyone gave 110%----from those who helped prepare the float (and load gear) to those who sang and played "America the Beautiful" and "God bless the U.S.A." over 20 times (at least). And all of this with the temperature hovering around 100 degrees! And still, not one soul complained...or fainted, thank God!

We had hoped to represent the church well, this year, and I think we did just that. Plus, we have the trophy to prove it! To God be the glory! :)

comic

2010-07-03T18:36:00.000-07:00

I saw this comic in today's paper and it seemed very a propos to my last post. It's how I am sometimes with my computer! (Lord, help us all! :)

Go to http://wpcomics.washingtonpost.com/client/wpc/tmrkt/
to see this Brewster Rockit comic. (If the link doesn't work, just cut and paste it into your browser).

and on the seventh day, He rested...

2010-07-02T20:54:00.000-07:00

School's out and it's vacation time! Yippee! It's so refreshing to take time off, isn't it? It's so good to get away from the usual day-to-day concerns, routines and work. Even in the foundation of the world, God showed us the importance of rest. Being omnipotent, I don't think He particularly needed to take time off, but in resting on the seventh day, He set an example for us.

I recently started reading A.J. Jacob's "The Year of Living Biblically". It's the author's account of the experience he had, as he attempted to live as faithfully to the Bible as he possibly could. A.J. is Jewish, but his family wasn't particularly religious. He did this an exercise more than anything else. For eight months, he was to live out the Old Testament and for four months, the New. Through the experience, he hoped to learn something about faith and to be transformed in the process. I'm not very far along in the book just yet, but it's been pretty humorous so far, following the ups and downs of his efforts to literally adhere to all the laws. It's also been insightful.

On the topic of taking a "Sabbath", he shares his foibles (many of which I could relate to). He tries, for example, to stay away from email, from sundown on Friday through sundown on Saturday. He tries, and tries, and tries, but fails repeatedly. He laughs at his own frailty, even as he tries to justify why he gets on---"What if the New York Times suddenly offers me a position?" "What if my mother has to contact me?" etc. I, too, am so very often online, with no real justification. It's just a habit.

I was at Rehoboth beach with my family last week. We had so much down time! I loved it! It was fabulous to soak in the sun, to wiggle my toes in the sand, and bike around the local pond. And it was a gift to be offline! It reminded me (in a good way) of how unimportant I am---I was unplugged for practically the entire time and the world kept on spinning!

I know I don't need to go to the beach for a break from my routines. I just need to carve out some time off. Since I work on Sundays, I don't have a real day off, which I think makes things a little trickier. If any of you have practical tips on how to go about creating a Sabbath or unplugging from technology periodically, let me know. If God, in His creation of the world, valued rest, clearly I need to do the same. (And having just returned from the beach, I have grasped anew the value of rest! ;)

another milestone

2010-06-11T15:59:00.000-07:00

I celebrated another significant milestone this month. My husband, Mitch, and I just celebrated 23 years of marriage! In this day and age, this is nothing to sneeze at!

Sneezing brings to mind an experience early in our dating years. We were at a Young Life camp in Colorado and Mitch and I were chaperoning a group of teens from Wootton High School. We had been dating for just a short time, but, as teens are wont to do, the kids were eager to push us together. Whenever Mitch was around, my girls would start "sneezing"----Mitch-oo!(their version of "achoo")and "coughing"---hack-hack-Hilda, just to get us to pay attention to each other. :) They needn't have bothered, truth be told.

I knew Mitch was cute and kind, from the moment I met him (another story for a future post, perhaps---it's really funny). But I was kind of busy playing the field and Mitch was a little on the quiet side, so nothing happened for a while. Or maybe I should say, something did happen but it was gradual and not apparent at first. We became friends.

Every week, we'd attend a Young Life leadership training time. (Everyone at leadership loved Mitch, by the way. They'd chant "Mitch, our buddy" whenever he came into the room. :) Week after week, a bunch of us would go socialize afterward. We'd do anything from go dancing at Blob's Park, to going to the movies, etc.

After a time, Mitch and I began to spend a little more time together, just the two of us. It wasn't long before I confided in a friend, "Mary, Mitch really is my buddy!" :) Our friendship had blossomed into something more.

I had dated a lot of guys but I felt like most of them wanted to hang out with me for fun. Mitch was deeper. He was genuinely interested in me, and my family. It kind of caught me off guard at first, quite honestly. But it wasn't long before I surrendered to the growing feelings inside of me.

Now, four kids, multiple mission trips, and many, many loads of laundry later ;), I continue to be blessed by my husband's faithful, consistent character. I'm grateful that we are walking through this life together, and pray for many more happy years of journeying side by side.

milestone

2010-06-05T20:51:00.000-07:00

The worship team surprised me on Thursday night with a barbeque celebration of my five-year anniversary at Woods!!! It was a sweet time with current praise team members and friends I hadn't seen for a while (like Terry! :)
The team even wrote me a song to the tune of the Subway commercial "Five! Five years! Five years of Hilda Gore!" :)

It was very sweet and a great way to celebrate our time together. From what I've heard the average length of time a worship leader stays at a church is 2-3 years. I feel like this is special milestone, indeed.

What's funny is that when I first took the job, I expected other things to kind of automatically fall into place (like a move for our family to Severna Park, for example) and they just didn't do so. This reminds me of Floyd's recent allusion to the GPS saying "Recalculating route". God had something different in mind than what I originally pictured.

And yet I've got to tell you, I wouldn't change a thing. My time at Woods has been a blessing. The team couldn't be more talented or committed. The staff of the church has servant hearts. The church members are warm and loving. Even the commute from D.C. gives me needed down time and a chance to listen to music or Christian teachings. I am so grateful to God for this calling. There has been MUCH joy in the journey! And I look forward to all the things God is going to continue to do, in and through us, as the body at Woods. It is, indeed, a happy anniversary!

grace upon grace

2010-05-28T19:41:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I was running around, doing a bunch of errands before heading up to church to rehearse the band. I ran into the post office to mail a package to a friend, and when I came out my car simply wouldn't start. Every time I turned the key in the ignition, I heard a clicking sound, but beyond that---nada.

I called home and Andrew said he'd come and give me a jump start. Neither one of us had ever done that before. I felt like we were on an episode of "Amazing Race"---trying to complete the next challenge. :} We got out the cables and followed the instructions in the owner's manual to a "T". We read and re-read the instructions, made sure his engine was running at 2000 rpm, and...still nothing. Just "click, click, click, click."

After a while, we gave up. Mitch was in a meeting but promised to come as soon as he could. Andrew went to hang out with friends. Alone, I started reading the gospel of John, which I keep in my car, along with napkins, hand sanitizer and Jiffy Lube receipts. :)

I came upon a verse that stood out to me, as if it were printed in bold. "For of His fullness we have all received, and grace upon grace." John 1:16
I was touched by the truth of the Word, even though I wasn't exactly "feeling it" at that time.

And a song started to grow in my heart just then. I haven't finished it just yet, but here's an idea of how it might go:

Verse 1
No doubt about it, life can get me down
problems near and far---like some surround sound
At the end of the tunnel, a bright light appears
warming my heart, and calming my fears

Chorus
From his fullness, I receive it,
grace upon grace, grace upon grace
though I can't see it, I believe it,
grace upon grace, grace upon grace

Just after I wrote these words down, the four guys parked just in front of me approached me. Their van had lettering on it that said "East Coast Tattoo" and one look at them told me that they were "company men"! ;) One guy said that he was a mechanic and he and his friends immediately set about trying to figure out what the problem was. Cigarettes in their hands, tattoos on their arms---grace came to me, through them, right then and there.

hiding from love

2010-05-21T11:06:00.000-07:00

A family at National Pres. recently lost their mother. Losing a loved one to death is sad and hard under any circumstance, but this case is especially so. The father passed away about 5 years ago, and now that the mother is gone, as well, the children are alone. The youngest is a boy, who's about 15, and he has two older sisters (one who just graduated from college and the other who is 25 or 26).

When the mother passed in February, I was in Haiti, but Mitch and our children connected with the kids, during those early difficult days. The oldest girl, (I'll call her Annie), confided in Mitch that when her father passed away, a lot of people offered help early on, but a few months later, when the family really did need help, no one was around.

Mitch, was determined not to let that happen this time around. So, lately he's been trying to get in touch with Annie, to be there for her. He's tried calling, texting and Facebook-messaging to no avail. She hasn't answered once.

I can relate to Annie. When I'm feeling battered and bruised by life, I retreat. Rather than risk being hurt again, like a turtle, I pull into my shell. I remember reading a book years ago, whose title, "Hiding from love" talked about this very behavior.

And we all do this from time to time. Anything from an unanswered phone call to a slammed door to a hurtful comment tells the world "leave me alone" when, in reality, we long for just the opposite. We're just too afraid to put ourselves out there----reaching out can result in rejection; loving can bring hurt and disappointment. And our gut instinct is to protect ourselves, to keep "safe". We shut down, keeping those around us, and God, at arms length.

Annie's been battered by life and I don't blame her for retreating, whether it's been intentional or unintentional (because of the busyness of life). But we're not giving up on her or her siblings. The church community has set up a schedule to make sure the kids get regular home-cooked meals. It was my turn last week, so I made a meal, and thought I might see them when I dropped it off, but no one answered the door. (I left it right outside, hoping they'd get it before some neighbors or deer did! ;)

God's love can find us in the deepest, darkest hiding spots. David said, "Where can I go from Your Spirit?" (Psalm 139:7) There's no place that's outside of God's reach. And I, for one, am so very grateful that this is the case.

McKense - part II

2010-05-14T16:56:00.000-07:00

Still working through the "Crazy Love" book with the worship team. This latest chapter (entitled "Your best life...later") had some thought-provoking questions that I am really wrestling with.

"What are you doing in your life that requires faith?" is one of them. As one team member said last night, circumstances and trials often drive us to our knees. But Francis Chan was asking a more pointed question----what active choices are we making that require sacrifice and trusting God? How do we, American Christians, handle our wealth and resources? How is our faith fleshed out in day to day living?

These questions give me pause. You see, when I left Haiti (about 3 months ago now), I didn't leave everything behind. I've been in touch with McKense, the fellow I blogged about who lost every single family member. He is in Port Au Prince, living on the streets, along with thousands of others, also displaced by the earthquake. His situation is as desperate as ever. He has absolutely nothing and he has told me that the food being distributed goes to the women and children and the injured---not to able-bodied young men, like him and his cousin.

In one of our more recent conversations, McKense sounded frustrated and felt that I'd forgotten him. I hung up, feeling guilty for not doing more.

I've wrestled with how to best help him. He's told me that he wanted help with his paperwork, but I had to admit that I haven't a clue how to help him get his passport! It's frustrating, because I'm so very far away and I'm only one person. I've tried to get him reconnected with Foundation for Peace (the group I went down with) and another Haitian relief organization, folks in the trenches in Haiti, who can better serve him than I.

It may be that I've done all I can do, and need to let it go, and trust that others will come along and do their part. But I don't want to justify my inaction or do something motivated by guilt, rather than love. I want God to give me wisdom to discern where my responsibility with McKense begins and ends. And, though it may hurt, I pray He keeps my heart tender toward my neighbor.

Don't look back!

2010-05-07T20:29:00.000-07:00

I woke up at 5:30 on Thursday morning. That is not an hour of the day I usually see, but our daughter Cristina was scheduled for surgery at GWU Hospital at 7:30. It was time to get an abscess removed that had been bothering her for some time. Groggily, I stuffed my L.L. Bean tote bag full of bills, hoping to take advantage of the time in the waiting room. I can keep up with most things in my life, save the laundry (it gets washed, and then becomes something of a permanent colorful art installation in our hallway) and bills (papers and mail multiply in our dining room, much like loaves and fishes in the Bible). At any rate, since I couldn't very well take laundry with me to the waiting room, I opted to take the bills.

We sat in the waiting room together, and it wasn't long before they took her to pre-op. After a brief kiss and a quick prayer, she was whisked off and the waiting began. I intermittently dozed and read. About an hour and a half later, I was called in to speak with the surgeon. I was pleased to hear that all went well. The surgeon told me that we could see Cristina in half an hour.

Some 45 minutes later, we checked in with the front desk and they said that they had been looking for us! But we never had heard our name called or anything. When we went to see Cristina, she was in tears. "Where were you? I didn't know where you were," she cried. It was so discouraging. I had really wanted to be there for her, and yet she had felt alone and abandoned. The attending nurse said that a lot of young women become weepy, as a result of the anesthesia. But clearly Cristina's sadness was justified. I felt guilty and sad. Had I been so consumed with my book or preoccupied with the bills that I had missed hearing our name called? Why had God allowed her to feel alone, when we were just some steps away?

I was disappointed and troubled by these thoughts for a good portion of the day. At some point, I realized that I was missing the present because I was mourning the past. Just a day earlier, I had reminded Cristina that we couldn't go back in time. Now, somehow, I was reliving the mistake. I had indeed missed a key moment with her, but I couldn't go back to change that. I could only move forward.

We talked tonight about the whole thing. I told her that I had wanted to cry, too, but I didn't want the nurse to think I was under the influence of anesthesia! ;) We laughed about the sweatshirt that I had worn that morning. It was some XL Wilson sweatshirt that Cristina had brought along. I borrowed it because the waiting room was chilly. It came down to my knees and I was swimming in it. A couple of nurses asked me quizzically "Are you the mom?" With my tote bag overflowing with bills and the oversized sweatshirt, I'm sure I was quite the sight! :}

The good news is, Cristina is well on her way to recovery. She hasn't had to take a single med for pain and her spirits are good. And since I'm not looking back anymore, mine are in pretty good shape, too!

Youth Sunday

2010-04-23T20:13:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday at Woods was Youth Sunday. The teens participated in all aspects of the service, from reading the Scripture, to leading prayers and music. I especially enjoyed seeing the youth praise band lead worship at 11:00 (they made it look so easy! :)

This next Sunday, National Presbyterian Church, where my husband is the youth director, will also celebrate Youth Sunday. Much like at Woods, the teens will lead every aspect of each service. My own girls, Em and Bec, will sing with the youth choir and Em will even be playing the organ for the postlude of each service. I can't wait to be led, once again, by the young people of the church.

Some say that youth are the church of the future, the church of tomorrow. We better "invest" in them now, they say, or the church may disappear.

I say that youth are the church of today! They are full-fledged members of the body of Christ, that are vital to the life of the church. We need to hear what they have to say, and not just on one Sunday out of the year.

I thank God for youth staff and volunteers at churches all over the place, who are walking alongside teens----listening, loving, and guiding. May we all look for ways in which we can do the same.

Three cups of tea

2010-04-17T13:56:00.000-07:00

Have you read this amazing book yet? I just finished it and I absolutely LOVED it! Before this book, I read "Mountains beyond mountains" (the story of Dr. Paul Farmer and his work in Haiti). So I've just completed two books in a row about people who cared enough to make a difference. If I'm not inspired by now, I must not have a pulse!

This true story is about the life and work of Greg Mortenson. He was an adventurer/climber whose sister died of a seizure in 1992. The following year, to honor her memory, he decided to climb K2, the second highest mountain in the world. He didn't make it, and actually lost his way on the descent. It was then that he stumbled upon a remote village. There, he was nursed back to health. As he saw the village children, drawing in the sand with sticks, he realized that they had no school and it struck him that it might honor his sister's memory more to help build them a school.

A handshake with a village elder, a promise, turned into decades of work building schools for impoverished, needy people. Greg's serendipitous encounter led to a calling. Now the Central Asia Institute, which he established over time, has a growing staff and volunteers working in Pakistan and Afghanistan. The organization has built over 131 schools in that part of the world and has instructed over 50,000 students (over 40,000 of whom are girls).

"Three cups of tea: One man's mission to promote peace...one school at a time" is the complete title of this biography. The reason for the subtitle is that Greg has realized that educating children may be the best tactic in the world's war against terror. An educated child has his/her vision expanded. The child is no longer at the mercy of extremists who exploit the hungry and the uneducated into service for their cause.

For more information, check out the website: threecupsoftea.com Oh, and the reason for the title? In Pakistan, when you first have a cup of tea with a family, you are a stranger. The second time, you are a friend. The third time? You are family.

It isn't me, is it?

2010-04-11T20:12:00.000-07:00

I know we just celebrated the resurrection of our Lord, but emotionally, I must admit I'm still back on Maundy Thursday. I'm still pondering the interaction between Jesus and his disciples during the Last Supper.

Let me give you some context. The worship team and I have been reading a book together called "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan. He is the pastor of a church in California and is a popular speaker and author. But don't get the wrong idea, just because I used the word "popular". Francis' talks (and his books, apparently) are not for the faint-hearted. He does not speak to "tickle the ears". I consider him something of a modern-day prophet. He challenges the church to move beyond complacency and comfort to radical, Christ-centered living. His words aren't popular, by any stretch of the imagination; as a matter of fact, they make most people uncomfortable. But on a deeper level, they are words that the church desperately needs to hear.

Well, we recently hit Chapter Four of "Crazy Love", entitled "Profile of the lukewarm". The title says it all, right? :} Using Scripture from the New and Old Testament, Francis describes people who have an air of spirituality but whose heart is far from God's. "Lukewarm people don't want to be saved from their sin; they want only to be saved from the penalty of their sin" and "Lukewarm people say they love Jesus, and He is, indeed, a part of their lives. But only a part." Ouch, right?! I found most every section of this chapter very convicting.

When I watched the video related to the chapter, on his website, Francis said that he wanted us to read it, looking within ourselves, not thinking "Oh, yes, that reminds me of my neighbor" or "Oh, that sounds like Charlie." Rather he said we should ask God to show us what applied to us. It made me think of the disciples at the Last Supper, when Christ said that one of them would betray Him. They didn't say "Is it him, Lord?" pointing to a nearby disciple, but, saddened, they asked, "Am I the one, Lord?" They knew that they were easily as capable of betraying Christ as the next person.

I'm working on a song about this truth---that all of us could easily be Judas. And, trust me, it's not easy to write the lyric, because I know most of us would rather hear a happy, hopeful song, than one that is introspective and sad. But I've heard it said that before we can embrace the good news---God's forgiveness and grace offered through Christ---, we must first understand the bad news---our sin and need for a Savior. All this to say, before I get to Easter in my heart, I must finish the holy week journey, convicting though it may be (and even if it's at my own pace! ;)

"on fire"

2010-04-03T14:18:00.000-07:00

Some friends of mine came for a visit this past week. Taiye and Lola are precious young women that were Young Life club kids of ours. In the 1980's, Mitch and I would lead Bible studies for young guys and girls in the city and Taiye and Lola were avid attendees. They stood out among the other kids for a number of reasons. 1) They were twins, 2) they were consistent in their attendance, and 3) they were hungry and thirsty for God. Taiye would often come into our home and scan our bookshelves, looking for an edifying Christian book. She would tell me of her dreams to be a pastor one day. She would write praise songs and pray with a fervor I'd seldom seen before.

It had been years since I'd seen Taiye and Lola (occasional Facebook connections, notwithstanding :) and I didn't know quite what to expect. I was relieved to find they were just as "on fire" as they had been in their youth. Their desire to be obedient to God and a blessing to others was so encouraging to me! As we caught up, they would quote Scripture often, and their conversation was peppered with exclamations of praise and thanks to God for moving in their lives.

Towards the end of their visit, I thought to myself, "Wow! I wish I were surrounded by more people like them----people who were 'on fire' for the Lord. It would encourage me SO much!"

When I mentioned this to one of my daughters, she pointed a finger back at me. "What are you doing?" she pointedly asked, as she inquired about my time in the Word and in prayer. Good point.

Indian philosopher Mahatma Gandhi once said, "Be the change you want to see in the world." I can't just wish other people were more "on fire". I need to be more "on fire" myself!

As I prepare to celebrate the Resurrection tomorrow morning, I want my transformed life to testify to the truth that He lives, more than my words or songs.

stay strong

2010-03-26T11:29:00.001-07:00

As I was walking into my Body & Soul exercise class today, I saw one of the students struggling to open the door to the room. Her hands were full with her purse, her mat, her weights and all. Breathless and smiling, she said to me "Life is hard!"

It is hard, at times, isn't it? I've been there, too. Whether it's struggling to get through a door when my hands are full :}, or with an emotion or a person, sometimes it gets overwhelming and discouraging.

As you know, of late, I have had on my heart a burden for Haiti. Closer to home, I am concerned for friends and family that have health issues and work stresses. On top of that, just taking care of the day-to-day tasks can sometimes feel like too much (will the ever-growing pile of clean laundry ever grow smaller?!) My cup runneth over (and not in ways that the psalmist intended ;).

There's a great line from one of the aerobic songs this session. The song is Paul Baloche's "Hosanna". (I hope to add it to our worship repertoire soon!) It says, "When we see you, we find strength to face the day." Whether it's in worship, in Body & Soul, or the kindness of a friend, I am encouraged by this truth. It helps me stay strong, when I'm feeling weak or overwhelmed.

So maybe my cup runneth over in just the right way, after all....

challenges...the spice of life?

2010-03-20T20:43:00.001-07:00

Last night, Mitch and I went to a cooking class. Our good friend from National Presbyterian, Susan Holt, runs a business called CulinAerie, "The Pinnacle of Food & Wine Instruction". She invited us to take part in the class called "Couples Cooking: Heat". (Catchy title, no? ;) On the menu was a salad of chicory with maytag and apples, shrimp and grits (topped with a creamy habanero sauce), and espresso chocolate chili mousse for dessert.

We got there late, so I was already feeling a little behind from the outset. Susan was in front of the group with a headset microphone on and two cameras focused on her, so that the couples seated all the way to very back of the room could see exactly what she was doing. I wished she would teach in steps----demonstrate one thing and then have us do it, and then teach another bit and have us try that, etc. But clearly, she was showing us the whole she-bang and then we were going to have to go for it. Then she said that cooking was 98% science and 2% art. I'm not very confident about my cooking skills (and I'm no good at science), so I was nervous about whether I could in short order replicate what she was so capably doing up front.

It wasn’t long before we were donning our aprons and going for it. It helped that most of the ingredients were measured out for us. We had to separate eggs and whip cream and "fold" ingredients together, and just plain do things I’m not generally used to, but I quickly realized that I could either cross my arms and let my husband (or our table partners) do all the work, or I could roll up my sleeves and give it a try. It was a challenge, on a small scale, but well worth it. At one point, I must admit that Susan had to come over to “rescue” our grainy-textured mousse, but other than that, our dishes were quite successful and tasty! :)

My kids have been taking on some challenges of their own these days. One of Cristina’s professors at Eastern asked his students, for extra credit, to participate in a “media fast”----no texting, watching videos, dvds, listening to cds, etc. Clearly, the kids will need to be on their laptops for homework and research, but for the remainder of the semester they are to avoid the distractions that media provide and tune in, instead, to real life and real connections. Some kids were unwilling to try it, but Cristina, I’m happy to say, has decided to go for it.

My daughter Emily ran her first marathon today----26.2 miles! She trained all winter with a group at her school, Teens Run DC. And it all culminated in today’s SunTrust National Marathon. The kids met downtown at 6:15 in the morning (I was with them in spirit at that hour of the morning ;) and the race began at 7:00. Em crossed the finish line in less than 5 hours, and in fine form, I might add. I was so impressed that she tackled the challenge of a marathon at the age of 17! I heard today that less than 1/10 of one percent of the world’s population has ever completed a marathon, and to think that my daughter is in that “elite” category blows my mind!

Life’s too short to not attempt new or difficult things. If we make mistakes, we can just pick up and start over. I don’t always live this truth, but if I hang around my kids long enough, and take a few more risks (big and small) now and then, it just might start sinking in!

pics of my trip

2010-03-12T14:49:00.000-08:00

Since a picture's worth a thousand words, I've posted an album of my recent trip to Haiti. Check it out by going to this website:

http://picasaweb.google.com/102897806229764553210/Haiti

pondering

2010-03-12T11:29:00.000-08:00

It's been three weeks since my last post. I usually blog consistently, but it's been hard lately to articulate all I've been feeling.

I've been thinking about the superficiality of my day to day life, the shallow nature of my faith, the blessing and responsibility of wealth, and my limitations.

I've also been pondering:
- the brevity of life
James 4:14b "You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away."

- the uncertainties of the same
James 4:14a "Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow."

- how to make a difference
Matthew 25:40 "To the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of mine, even the least of these, you did it to Me."

- the nature of calling
Ephesians 2:10 "For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."

It's like they are puzzle pieces and I can't quite figure how to fit them all together. I am unsettled by the trouble in the world (earthquakes, violence, sickness, and such) and the trouble in my own heart (insecurities, pride, lust, and such).

I remain anchored by God's Word and truth (hence the verses above) but still feel battered by wind and waves. I'm grateful that the Bible says that when we don't know what to pray, the Spirit intercedes on our behalf (Romans 8:36). And I'm not just grateful for the Spirit's prayers, I'm counting on them.

Mackense

2010-02-19T19:01:00.000-08:00

One day I came upon a Haitian who was being hugged by a member of the Spanish team. It wasn't just a little pat on the back. It was a prolonged hug. It surprised me because I hadn't seen any such displays of intense affection since I'd been at the hospital. It wasn't long before Luke (a Foundation for Peace staffer whom I shadowed the first few days) filled me in.

The young man, Mackense, had lost 4 siblings and both of his parents to the earthquake. He only had one sister left. She was initially being treated at our hospital, Hospital Buen Samaritano, but then she became more critically ill. She was sent, consequently, via helicopter to another hospital, in hopes of getting her better care and the respirator she desperately needed. Unfortunately, there wasn't a respirator at the hospital where she was sent, and she went into septic shock, and died a day or two later.

That was when Mackense came back. I don't think he had any idea of where else to turn. Luke asked for the psychologists to meet with Mackense, to help him process the recent tragic turn of events.

I was present, to translate the conversation. (Mackense spoke Spanish and the psychologists spoke English.) Quite honestly, it was painful to witness Mackense's grief, but also to have to translate the psychologists' comments to him. Their words, at first, seemed so trite and inappropriate to me. "God has a purpose for you," they said, and "God is with you," and things like that. If I were Mackense, I would have been too angry to receive those truths. I would have wanted to shove them aside and scream. Mackense did none of that. He just smiled and nodded and quietly replied, "Si, yo se." "Yes, I know." I was shocked, and my world was rocked by the peace and acceptance that he radiated.

"What do you have?" they asked him. He gestured to his clothing "Just this---what I'm wearing," he answered. "What will you do next?" "I don't know." He told me later that he had been studying engineering. Now only God knows what his future holds.

reality hits

2010-02-17T19:29:00.000-08:00

The vision for the hospital in the town of Jimani was that of a Haitian doctor, known as "Dr. Mark". He built the facility for training purposes, for young Haitian doctors. The compound includes a main hospital, an orphanage with two floors, and a roomy house for doctors to stay in. When the earthquake hit, Dr. Mark graciously offered his compound for groups from around the world (from Peace Corps, to Foundation for Peace, to IMA, to Rainbow, to medical workers from Spain, and many more) to care for the victims.

The house where we stayed was packed. There was no furniture, to speak of---just a few metal chairs scattered about, and multiple mattresses strewn on the floor of each room (the dining room, the living room, the porch, etc.). When we first came in, those who had worked the night shift were sleeping here, there, and everywhere. Foundation for Peace bought metal bunk beds and our first job, after we unloaded our luggage, was to put them together. We knew it would be a blessing, not only for future Foundation for Peace groups, but for Dr. Mark to use as he saw fit.

Once we got settled, I picked a top bunk, right next to the window. It had a glorious view of the mountains and I could hear a stream gurgling by. Unfortunately, that wasn't all I could hear! Around 5:00 a.m., the dogs and roosters seemed to kick off their morning party. :} After that first night, happily, I learned to sleep through it.

But one night, something happened that I couldn't sleep through. I felt my bed shaking in the middle of the night. At first, half asleep, I thought it was a tractor trailer rumbling by. But as I gradually awakened it dawned on me that there was no way a tractor trailer would be anywhere near our house in Jimani! I woke up with a start and sat up ramrod straight in my bed. I looked at my watch; it was 2:00 a.m. I couldn't hear any screams and no one else seemed to be disturbed, so I wondered if the aftershock had been my imagination. I chalked it up to just that, at first, until a nurse told me that the same thing had happened to her.

Feeling the earth move was scary for me, but aftershocks, of course, were much more frightening to the earthquake victims. As a matter of fact, the week of the earthquake, a serious aftershock was felt at our compound and two patients were so terrified that they threw themselves off the second story of the orphanage! One died immediately and the other died a few days later. So sad! (After that experience, many patients refused to be housed in the orphanage. Make-shift tents were set up so that they could rest without fear.)

My first week at the compound, I was at the morning meeting of the leadership team when someone said, "We were reminded of our mortality this morning. Let's be kind to one another."
It turned out that a helicopter pilot, John, and his friend, Jim, had died when their helicopter crashed into a mountain. They had recently left their homes and family in Florida to help deliver aid to the people of Haiti.

I spent one entire afternoon trying to help an aunt find her 10-year-old nephew, Reynaldo. She said she had seen an image of him on television and that she was certain he had been brought to our hospital. With the help of Arya (an amazing Peace Corps volunteer) , we combed through all of our records to no avail. I walked through the tents with the aunt, as a last-ditch effort, to see if she might spot him, by chance, but she did not. Her face was downcast. I encouraged her to look for him at a local hospital in Jimani, but my heart was heavy as we parted company.

It felt like tragedy upon tragedy. Now I more fully understand the Haitian proverb, "Beyond mountains, there are mountains."

Paula

2010-02-16T19:12:00.000-08:00

Most days at the Hospital Buen Samaritano were chaotic. Doctors and nurses were always rushing around, as were we---the support staff. Patients whose conditions improved were transported to a refugee camp (Love A Child) back in Haiti. Helicopters would swoop in to stock up on supplies for remote villages. As I walked along the dusty gravel road between the orphanage (where patients were housed) and the main hospital, on a variety of errands, I would shake my head in wonder. It all felt surreal. At times, I felt as if I were on an episode of "M*A*S*H"---the old 70's t.v. show about the Mobile Army Surgical Unit.

I'd start heading in one direction (say, to get some water from the storage tent), when suddenly I'd be pulled in another direction. I remember seeing some volunteers trying to take a patient in a wheelchair from his tent to a bathroom in the hospital. They were struggling to push him over the gravel/dirt road. One was trying to support his leg in the cast, while the other pushed the chair. The girls kept stopping and starting the chair, to readjust the position of his leg. Clearly, the patient was in pain. I went over to lend a hand, to help make the way smoother, as best I could.

Shortly thereafter, a nurse saw me pass by and asked me to help her communicate with her patient named Paula. Paula had been trying to tell her something earlier in the day and she wanted to try to figure out what it was. I crouched down by Paula's bed to begin the conversation. I don't speak Creole, but was hoping my French was passable enough that we would be able to understand each other.

After some back and forth, and a lot of "pa konprann" on my part---Creole for "I don't understand" :) ---I figured out that Paula was saying that she was having difficulty eating. She felt like her food wasn't going down right, and was saying that it felt like it was getting stuck in her throat. She also said she was having headaches and some fever.

After the nurse went away, Paula and I continued the conversation. I found out that she was 22 years old and that she was a student and had been leaving school when the earthquake hit. She described her injuries---a leg broken in 4 places and a foot that had needed to be partially cut off. (Later, she asked me to photograph her legs because she wanted a photo of them to keep for herself.)

As our conversation came to a close, Paula asked me, with a trembling voice, if she'd be able to go to school again. "Oui, bien sur," I assured her.

Some time later, I regretted my answer. Someone told me that a whole generation of Haitians was probably going to be denied the opportunity to study because it was going to take so long to rebuild not only the school buildings themselves but the infrastructure for their education system. I began to wish that I had told Paula "J'espere" or "I hope so".

Haiti is alive!

2010-02-15T17:34:00.000-08:00

"Rocks in the water do not know how rocks in the sun feel." I like this Haitian proverb, and think it's very true. But for just a short while during these past two weeks, I think I got something of an idea of how rocks in the sun feel.

On a short-term mission trip with Foundation for Peace, I left my comfortable spot in the stream, so to speak, to help those from a desolate, dry and dusty land---Haiti.

My team spent most of our time in the Dominican Republic, in a make-shift hospital, pulled together in the town of Jimani, to attend to the medical needs of earthquake victims. While medical personnel attentively cared for patients, non-medical volunteers (like me) spent time organizing donations, distributing food and water, and spending time at patients' bedsides. We saw patients with all types of problems---from lost limbs, to broken legs, to facial scarring and skin grafts. The mood was somber at the hospital most of the time; it seemed we were all in shock at the earth's shaking and the terrible toll it had taken on the people of Haiti.

But in the middle of last week, a nurse asked if I would bring my guitar into one of the tents to motivate the patients to move and exercise a bit, get their blood circulating. When we dropped by the tent, we began singing a few songs in Spanish and some in Creole. Suddenly, it seemed to be working. People started clapping, and singing along. A man with one leg got out of bed and started hopping around! Some able-bodied family members and translators started a conga line around the tent, and folks were waving their arms. Many were smiling at our antics, if not participating in the "music/exercise" program. Encouraged, the nurse asked us to return in the afternoon.

We returned at around 2:00 in the afternoon, and that's when something really special happened. I could tell the minute I walked in the tent that it was just too hot and no one was going to feel like moving. (In the D.R., as in Spain and other Latin American countries, the middle of the day is often set apart for taking a "siesta", not for activity!) It was really unbearably hot, so we decided to just settle for singing a little bit, when a young man named Olson told me that he played a little guitar. I promptly gave him the instrument and he started playing a simple chord progression.

The next thing I knew, Olson was improvising and coming up with a song on the spot. "Haiti pa mouri" he sang. And then in Spanish "Haiti no se murio". And then in English "Haiti is alive!" The people began clapping and singing it along with us. Olson and Stanley started rapping their own truths about the situation and interjecting shouts of "Thank you, Americans!" and "Gracias, Espanoles!" to all of the helpers. I added my own little rap, in short order. :)

We moved from tent to tent and even serenaded the ICU patients and a group of volunteers at the hospital. Patients were smiling and laughing. Children were following us around. There was a sense of joy and hope. People's spirits were lifted as we sang the truth together: Haiti is alive. By God's grace, and the strength and the courage of the Haitian people, Haiti is not dead. Haiti will live on!

I'm leaving on a jet plane...

2010-01-29T10:28:00.000-08:00

I just got off the phone with the second graders in Ms. Graves' class at Washington Christian Academy. The children had heard about the disaster in Haiti and wanted to help, so they started "Operation Fill-The-Suitcase". Their goal was to fill a suitcase with medical supplies for me to take down on my trip next week. Today, they called because they wanted to pray with me and one other team member who is going. They formed a circle around the suitcase and held hands. Over the phone, I was deeply touched by their tender and sincere prayers. Honestly, they moved me to tears. "Dear Lord, help them. I hope all your angels come over them." "I pray that another earthquake won't come." "I hope Haiti is okay."

Let me give you some background on how/why I'm going to help with the relief effort. For a number of years, I have taken short-term mission trips with a group known as Foundation for Peace (FFP). They are committed to providing clean water, helping with health care and meeting other needs in developing countries. Their short-term teams work on water-purification systems, building latrines, running medical clinics, Vacation Bible school programs, and more.

When I heard about the earthquake in Haiti, I prayed for the country and started trying to figure out where to send money. But then a friend of mine, Mary, asked me if I wanted to go. Honestly, the thought had never crossed my mind. But I wondered if God wanted me to do it.
We double-checked with FFP first----would we be a help or in the way? Would the Haitian people be better off by our simply sending money? But we were told emphatically that they could use money and people---even people without medical skills (which is me! ;)

So, the next thing I knew, I had bought my ticket and now I'm preparing to leave this Sunday! God caught me by surprise on this one. You may think me foolhardy or brave; you may think I'm both! :} Regardless, I want to ask for your prayers while I'm there. We'll be working in the border town of Jimani on the Dominican side of the island, though we will cross over into Haiti to work there, as well. There is a hospital, two orphanages (one in Haiti, one in the Domincan Republic), and a refugee camp, all in the area where we'll be working.

Pray for me to be of service---whether I'm transporting patients, digging latrines, or playing the guitar for people in the waiting room. Most importantly, please pray for the Haitians who are hurting and for God's light to shine. Oh, and if you want to help (beyond prayer), our church is associated with Presbyterian Disaster Assistance and Church World Service. They are not requesting volunteers at this time, but could use hygiene kits and donations. (See our website for more info.)

awareness contd.

2010-01-22T14:33:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago, my husband Mitch and I went to a Jars of Clay concert at the Ramshead in Annapolis, Maryland. The invitation to go was extended by a good friend, who happens to be a follower of this blog----shout out to Tim! ;) Wait a sec, though. Maybe he's not a follower! In that case, let's just say that the invitation to go was extended by a...friend. (jk)

At any rate, in case you're not familiar with the band, Jars of Clay is a Christian rock band that has been around since the early '90s. Their songs "Love song for a Savior" and "Flood" were big hits back in the day. They've continued to tour and release cds steadily over the years, but for some reason they had kind of fallen off my radar.

Well, the concert was just great. I really hadn't realized how what a rocking band they were. The main vocalist was pogo-ing all over the place. (My only regret is that I didn't join him, but it was kind of a chill, intimate venue, so I had to exert self-control! ;)

So, yeah, they were high energy, which I loved, but better still was that their song lyrics were really fresh and convicting. Now I have to admit I couldn't always understand all the lyrics of each song during the concert! (Like I said, it was rock-y! :) But afterward, I went to the internet and checked out a few of my favorite songs. Here are the lyrics for "Headphones".

I don't have to hear it, if I don't want to
I can drown this out, pull the curtains down on you
It's a heavy world, it's too much for me to care
If I close my eyes, it's not there

With my headphones on, with my headphones on
With my headphones on, with my headphones on

We watch television...but the sound is something else
Just a song played against the drama, so the hurt is never felt
I take in the war-fires, and I'm chilled by the current events
It's so hopeless, but there's a pop song in my

Headphones on, in my headphones on
With my headphones on, with my headphones on

At the Tube Stop, you sit down across from me
(I can see you looking back at me)
I think I know you
By the sad eyes that I see
I want to tell you (It's a heavy world)
Everything will be okay
You wouldn't hear it (I don't want to have to hear it)
So we go our separate ways...

With our headphones on, with our headphones on
With our headphones on, with our headphones on
I don't wanna be the one who tries to figure it out
I don't need another reason I should care about you
You don't want to know my story
You don't want to own my pain
Living in a heavy, heavy world
And there's a pop song in my head
I don't want to have to hear it

These lyrics definitely struck a chord with me. Awareness means removing whatever I use to anesthetize myself from pain---within me or without. I want to experience all that life has to offer. I want the joys to move me to praise, and the pain to propel me into the arms of my Savior.

awareness

2010-01-16T11:20:00.000-08:00

Just a week or two ago, our family went to go see "The Fantasticks". This musical was first performed off-Broadway in 1960 and, apparently, is one of the longest-running productions of all time. I can see why it's had such enduring power. It's a simple story of a boy, Matt, and the girl next door, Luisa. Their fathers plot to have them fall in love, but when Matt and Luisa figure it out, they become disillusioned and go outside the relationship, looking for something more. Soon after, El Gallo, a mysterious bandit, sweeps Luisa off of her feet and takes her all over the world. This is the part of the show that I found the most intriguing. When Luisa and El Gallo are traveling, at first she is entertained, but when she begins to see things how they really are (someone being hurt or mistreated, or some wrong being committed), El Gallo quickly urges her to put on her mask again (so that she no longer sees the problem).

It reminded me of real life and how often we prefer to turn a blind eye to problems we come across. Straight up, I have to say that it reminded me of me. :} Turning a blind eye to problems around me is no way to live. Pretending that I don't have a major heart problem (I'm talking about sin, here) is simply living in denial. Impatience? It's the fault of the cashier who's taking too long. Conflict at home? I didn't do anything wrong; I'm just misunderstood! Sticking my head in the sand only makes things worse. It's like a skin wound left untreated---it can fester and lead to infection. It's healthier (albeit harder) to acknowledge it, clean it and treat it.

My dear friend Lisa gave me a book for Christmas called "Awareness" by Anthony de Mello. He's a Jesuit priest who was known for his spiritual insights and his call for all of us to "wake up".
As I've read it, I have been more aware of my selfish motives (even for doing good things) and it's helped me avoid the pretend-everything's-okay mentality that I can sometimes fall into, when it comes to my sin.

What's true on a personal level is true on a broader scale as well. The earthquake in Haiti has shaken us all. We all knew that Haiti was one of the world's poorest countries, and yet, we found it easy to ignore. This crisis has made us painfully aware of the need. I must admit that I'd rather not read articles or see the devastation on t.v. It's disturbing, and heart-breaking. But seeing it is the first step to healing.

First Night

2010-01-08T19:26:00.000-08:00

Our family took off right after Christmas for a little vacation. All of us had had many responsibilities associated with the Christmas celebration (beyond buying and wrapping presents :). My three girls were singing in the pageant at National Presbyterian, my husband was responsible for putting together the stable for the pageant (a task that is more complicated than you would think) and I was in charge of putting together the 6:00 Christmas eve service at Woods (also more complicated than you would think! ;)

Knowing we'd need a break post-December 25, we made plans a few months ago to head to Williamsburg for a few days. We wanted to keep it low-key, so we didn't make tons of plans. We filled our days with touring around the historic section of the city, relaxing at the hotel and eating out (a lot!)

But the highlight of the trip had to be the First Night event. On New Year's eve, over 55 artists and performers filled a number of venues on the campus of William & Mary and attendees could take their pick of which shows to see. There was everything from folk music (Renewal Artists) to bluegrass to Celtic (Coyote Run) and family acts. Our favorite was definitely the family act known as the "Hunt Family Fiddlers." They were comprised of a mom and dad and their 7 kids! They were relaxed and warm and their music (and dance) was so entertaining. And they were just so talented! We were captivated! We bought their cd and hope to see more of them in the future. Check out this link to get a taste of their music and Irish dancing:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WF4EMnJAI6E

The strangest part of our evening though was at the Grande Finale of the event. After a fabulous night of music, the acts on the stage of the stadium were only so-so. (Maybe they were all just losing steam, since the Grande Finale started at 11:30 p.m. ;) And speaking of losing steam, the m.c. got tired of killing time till midnight, so he decided to ring in the new year four minutes early. At first we thought the m.c. was kidding about ringing in the new year early, but then he started counting down in earnest "10...9...8" , and the pineapple started dropping. We were all yelling "NO!" but there was nothing we could do about it. As the fireworks began exploding, most of the crowd began checking cellphones. We all wanted to figure out when midnight was actually going to strike so that we could legitimately wish each other a happy new year. :}

keeping it simple

2009-12-27T12:47:00.000-08:00

When our church found out this fall that we would be hosting 60 homeless guests the week of Christmas (as part of the area "Winter Relief" project), we were unsure what to make of it. Christmas week, when we all of the church families would be so busy with their own holiday preparations and celebrations!?! How would we ever get enough people to sign up to prepare meals or chaperone the guests?

Well, as usual, the Woods Church family stepped up and I'm happy to report that many praise band members signed up to help out, throughout the week. My shift was this afternoon; I was to be a chaperone. "Chaperoning" consists mostly of just connecting with the guests and getting to know them a bit, letting them know they're loved.

Like a lot of chaperones, I wasn't quite sure how to start or what to expect. Happily, a gentleman approached me, near the bagel table. He introduced himself (John was his name) and he told me that he had enjoyed the music this morning, at the 11:00 service. It turns out, he had attended all three services, and he said that he could probably deliver Elizabeth's sermon by heart! ;)

Well, I spent the better part of the afternoon chatting with John, a guy who probably knows more Bible verses than I do! He spoke about having lost his way, but then having come to faith. He used to work at a Bible college and he would often stand in the hallway to listen to the professors, because he didn't think he was worthy to sit in the classroom since he didn't consider himself "a good person." He still hopes to become a preacher one day, he confided. And the one thing he didn't want was to come before the Lord, at the end of his life, with regrets. I appreciated his honesty and vulnerability, and even the raw edge to our conversation. (At one point, he said, "You can't 'B.S.' the Lord.")

Another fellow, Daryle, spoke to a group of us about also wanting to be a preacher someday. He spoke passionately to some young volunteers about not putting God on the back burner. I told Daryle that, as I saw it, he already was a preacher!

Lester joined us for a late lunch, following his afternoon nap. When we invited him into the conversation, he was like, "I just want to talk about Jesus." :)

I was moved by the earnest faith of all of these men. Despite their difficult circumstances, they were looking up. They were saved and wanted others to know their Savior.

Sometimes we make it far too complicated---this faith thing, I mean. It all comes down to a surrendered life. Whether we find ourselves in humble circumstances (like the shepherds) or exalted circumstances (like the kings), it's a matter of drawing near to Christ, and inviting others to do the same.

unexpected and wonderful

2009-12-20T09:31:00.000-08:00

The meteorologists were calling for the heavy snowfall, but I was too wrapped up in my Christmas preparations to watch the news. On Friday, I had my Body and Soul exercise class, followed by our annual Christmas potluck. It was sweet to connect with the ladies who we see week after week, but rarely get to chat with (we're too busy huffing and puffing to the music! ;) After class, Cristina and I headed to the mall and began to hear some rumors about snow, but we just couldn't bring ourselves to believe it was really going to happen. Too often in the past, we'd heard predictions with nary a flake on the ground the following morning. So, like Thomas, we doubted.

But then Friday night, the evidence appeared---the flakes begin to fall and the inches began to accumulate. And the plans we had, well, they began to evaporate. It was all so inconvenient and disruptive! What about the plans I had----the party I was going to, the gifts I still had to purchase, the music I had to rehearse with the band!?!

Snow stopped us all in our tracks. By Saturday night, over 19" had fallen. Out the window went our plans and in their place came sledding, time with family, popcorn, a fire in the fireplace and board games.

I love it because it's all so Christmas-like! And I'm not referring to the Norman Rockwell image of a family inside their warm home, as the snow gently blankets the world outside. I'm referring to the divine interruption----the plans that God has that are not our own.

I'm sure Mary had other plans for her life, when the angel's news caught her by surprise. Perhaps she, too, disbelieved that something wonderful was about to happen. There were probably days of discomfort and times when she wished that her own plans were perfectly in place, rather than those of an unpredictable and sovereign God.

Still, what God has in mind for us is greater than anything we could come up with! Unexpected, spontaneous, scary---His plans are all of these things. And yet, also, so wonderful....

crap v. divinity

2009-12-11T11:00:00.000-08:00

One speaker at the conference, well-known author and speaker Tony Campolo, made reference to the internal struggle that we all deal with----the tug between our feeling like crap, at times, and like divinity, at other times.

It breaks down like this: there are days and moments where we see all too clearly our human frailties and sins. It could strike us as we drive down the road when we realize that we want to curse at someone who cuts us off; or it could hit us when we feel a twinge of envy when someone has something we don't; it could be anger or lust that gets a hold of us in a way we don't expect. You get the idea----we all fall and when we do, we feel weighed down by our sin. To put it bluntly, we feel like crap. We ask ourselves---Why did I just yell at my kid? Why did I not stop to say a kind word to that person? Why am I so self-centered? We are dismayed by our thoughts and actions (or inaction).

At other times, we feel like we can do no wrong. We speak up at the meeting and our own bright idea turns everything around. We pack our kids some great lunches or send that coworker an encouraging ecard. We do just the thing that is needed at the right time and we're on cloud nine. Just as children resemble their parents, we are resembling our heavenly Father, in our loving thoughts and deeds.

The tension between these feelings and actions is present in all of us. Both are based in truth-----we are sinful people, even as at the same time we bear the imprint of the divine. The problem is that it is far too easy to paint ourselves in black and white. (I find this to be true of me----is it true of you?) In other words, when I do something wrong, I feel unlovely and unloveable. When I do something right, I feel good and in the center of God's will.

Campolo says that some people who become depressed are simply resolving the tension by disbelieving one side of the equation. They don't believe in their own inherent value, as creations of a Loving God. Narcissists do the same thing, only they take it in the other direction. They disbelieve their weaknesses and flaws, and choose only to see the good that they do, and so they become puffed up with pride to the extreme.

I don't think there are any easy answers. (If Campolo gave them out during his talk, I guess I forgot to take notes on that part. ;) But I do believe that accepting the "crap" about ourselves, helps us welcome the divinity. I've heard it put this way: we have to understand the bad news (we are sinful) to be able to receive the good news (God loves us and sent a Savior for us). This truth is reflected in the line of the advent hymn "O come, o come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel". That cry is answered in the chorus "Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel." It is just as the angel said, isn't it? This is good news of great joy for all people!

Presence

2009-12-04T11:50:00.000-08:00

I'm still trying to soak in the message from the conference I attended a few week's ago and let it change my life. My heart's desire is to revel in God's presence, worshiping Him as He deserves and receiving the peace and joy and love He has for me, His child.

But, honestly, most days I spend much more time in front of the computer than I do at His feet. It's a challenge to discipline myself to be still and "watch and wait", as this Advent season calls me to do.

Throughout my life, I've noticed that it's so much easier to read the newspaper each day than it is to read the Bible. And I think this is why: the newspaper doesn't ask anything of me. In contrast, when I take in the Word of God, it's going to change me. I will be convicted of sin, and challenged to live differently, and think differently. Of course, the Bible would have this impact, since the Word is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12). And, naturally, my flesh resists this. It doesn't want to change (or should I say I don't want to change!)

What happens spiritually has a physical counterpart. Which is easier---going to the gym or sitting at home and watching t.v.? But, which is better? Which is healthier? I need to continue to develop spiritual habits to overcome the inertia of my flesh. I want to learn what it means to be still, and to watch and wait....

This Advent and Christmas season, I want to be about presents----oops, not p-r-e-s-e-n-t-s, ;) ---but PRESENCE!!! That's where the real joy is found----not in the gifts under the tree, but the Gift that hung on a tree for the forgiveness of our sins.

blessmylife

2009-11-28T14:03:00.000-08:00

I've had some sweet "down time" with the family these past few days. My oldest two are home from college and we've just been up to typical family stuff----cooking, eating, shopping and card games and the like. It's been so nice not to have to rush to be anywhere or get anything in particular done.

Since most of my kids are still in their teens, I've heard my fair share of their latest catch phrases these past few days----everything from "fail" (when something goes wrong) to "fmylife" (when something goes terribly wrong). This latter phrase is shorthand (maybe it started as a text, who knows) for "f*** my life". I find that my kids and others use it frequently, even when things only go a little bit wrong.

I've heard the saying before and it's always bothered me. I mean, even if things go HORRIBLY wrong, our lives aren't totally messed up, as the saying suggests. Beyond being untrue, it's just defeatist and sad to say "fmylife".

So, I was thinking of starting a campaign to get my kids (and then their friends) to start saying "blessmylife". The idea being to recognize----yeah, something went wrong, so I need God's blessings (like peace, and grace, and perserverance) now more than ever. I liken this phrase to the "bless his heart", that the southerners use. From what I've heard, it's sometimes uttered through gritted teeth, but, nonetheless, it puts a positive spin on negative people or situations.

As we played cards last night and I began to lose pretty desperately, I did start saying "blessmylife" and found it was catching on with the kids already! ;)

But honestly, yes, my life has felt very blessed over this Thanksgiving holiday, but when things get tough in the days ahead, I pray God will still "blessmylife".

deeper

2009-11-14T13:24:00.000-08:00

We came in expectantly, but nervously. We really weren't sure what the morning would hold. Still, we sat in the front row, hoping that the next few moments would hold something special, and that we would be ready to receive it. As the lights dimmed and musicians took the stage, the worship leader reminded us, "You're not at your home church, now. You're not in charge. You can worship any way you want." The music began and we spent 30+ minutes singing songs of praise. The set started with "Come now is the time to worship" and ended with "Breathe." And that's exactly what we did! We worshiped... we paused... we took a collective breath.

Three of us from Woods' worship team were attending a 2-day worship leading conference, entitled "Deeper". The ads promised that we would go deeper in our experience with God and in our understanding of how to lead others in worship, but, honestly, the three of us weren't sure what to expect exactly. I've been to some great worship conferences over the years, and some that were less so. Many have been the latter, for a number of reasons. Happily, this particular conference, sponsored by Integrity Music, was the former.

Leading us on the 2-day journey were worship leaders Brian Doerksen (who wrote "Come, now is the time to worship"), Kathryn Scott ("At the foot of the cross") and Paul Baloche ("Open the eyes of my heart"). They led us humbly, and unpretentiously. "We don't have all the answers or 'secrets,'" they would remind us from up front. "But here are some tips that we've learned over the years, that you might find helpful." Their attitudes were sincere and encouraging.

Workshops offered included "women in worship", "effective worship-leading", "vocals: take your worship team to the next level" and more. And there were indeed so many practical tips we picked up----like the importance of practicing with a metronome, the need to have all the instruments complement and not compete with each other, how to transition songs, and more.

But the best lesson for me came in those first 30 minutes, when we were basking in the presence of God. Distractions stripped away, I was able to sing and pray and "be" in a very real way. And it served to remind me that this is my main job description for Sunday mornings-----to help create a place, a space where people can simply "be" and worship.

living like we're dying----part 2

2009-11-07T17:05:00.000-08:00

I had a great mini-retreat with the worship team today. It was a nice afternoon that started with a yummy potluck lunch, followed by Christmas music prep, a devotional time, games and positive connections all the way 'round.

I needed that because last night and this morning were not so hot! After my "inspiring" ;) post yesterday about living like we're dying, I promptly went out and lost my cool with one of my daughters. It was horrible! I'm still trying to wrap my head around why I got so upset with her. And it wasn't just last night, but we picked up where we left off this morning, as well.

I know I've had a lot going on lately (and still more coming up in the next few days) but I don't usually fly off the handle like I did last night. For better or worse, I'm kind of used to being stressed! :}

The good news is that these kinds of interactions do not characterize our relationship (not by a long shot). I think that's why it weighed on me so heavily. I did apologize for the way I spoke to her. She said she forgave me, but it's still on my heart.

It's times like these that I'm grateful that I have a Savior. I need Someone to pick me up, dust me off, and set me right. I need Someone who forgives me when I have trouble forgiving myself. I need Someone I can direct my daughter to, who will be more constant and loving and faithful than I ever possibly could be.

So the more I think about it, living like we're dying isn't so much about living perfect, fulfilled lives, as it is about loving as best we can. And then when we fall short (which we will), and when life gets messy (which it will), we return to the God of love, the Living Water, the One who washes away our sin and quenches our deepest thirsts.

live like you're dying

2009-11-06T17:43:00.000-08:00

Lately, I've been thinking of matters of life and death. One member of the worship team lost his mother recently, and another lost a colleague. There was a horrendous shooting at an army base yesterday, and every time I open the paper I read about another homicide or suicide. It's sad and frightening.

One word that always brings me comfort when I contemplate my own mortality and that of those around me is Romans 14:8 "...for if we live, we live for the Lord, or if we die, we die for the Lord; therefore whether we live or die, we are the Lord's." If I'm surrendered to God in life, I will still be His in death. Death will not change my relationship to God. The next verse goes on to say that God is the Lord of the dead and the living. This means that whether I'm alive or dead, I'm His and nothing can snatch me away from Him (or vice versa).

One of my favorite Bible passages, Romans 8:38-39, reaffirms this truth: "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Neither death nor life.... It's interesting that the passage includes the "nor life", isn't it? I guess it just means that when we feel distant from God, when we are going through painful challenges and struggles, the truth remains----NOTHING can separate us! What good news! What a powerful rock of truth for us to cling to!

Unless Jesus returns in our lifetime, we all have to face the fact that we will one day stop breathing. But in the meantime, we must (as the song says) "live like you're dying". Let's live our "bucket lists"! Let's love God and those around us with all that we have. Some of our latest worship songs----"The blessing" and "While I'm waiting"---have to do with just this. We've been blessed to be a blessing. Sounds nice, I know, but life is so often filled with mundane things we must attend to (like making meals, emptying the dishwasher, driving to and from work, paying bills, etc.), right? But that's part and parcel of this package called life. That's one way we serve and love those around us. And there will be joy in the journey, and in our ultimate destination-----the arms of the One who is love and who will never let us go!

all you need is love

2009-11-03T20:31:00.000-08:00

On Monday I was having a very "blah" day. It's not that there was anything particularly bad about it; it just seemed kind of flat. I did all the usual things----had a staff meeting, answered emails, organized music, etc.
At the end of the day, my daughter and I went to watch our weekly t.v. show, only to find that it had been pre-empted by the World Series. Thumbing through our video collection, we settled on one I had never seen before. It was called "I am Sam" and it chronicled the life of a mentally challenged father and his battle to regain custody of his daughter. In a nutshell, the dad had the intellectual capacity of a 7 year old and there were social workers and others who questioned his ability to properly care for her. He was limited, yes, but he loved his daughter unconditionally.

My daughter had warned me that it was a sad movie, but I was moved more deeply than I expected. Not only did I cry, but it made me think. Good movies do that, don't you think? They call us to something higher than ourselves; they captivate and inspire.

I started to think about all I had done that day and suddenly what mattered became crystal clear. The most important thing I had done wasn't something I had planned----it wasn't meeting with the pastor or prepping my music for the week or anything like that. It was a brief encounter with a fellow who I met on the main floor of Woods.

He looked lost when I ran into him, like he was looking for something or someone. He introduced himself and said he hadn't come to "my service" ;) but that he was looking for a soft-cover Bible. I asked him to wait a moment and I ran downstairs because I knew that Christie Cory had some Bibles in her office. At just that moment, she walked in from her lunch break and she gave me a couple to let the fellow choose from. He was so happy when I handed him the Bibles and told him to take his pick. He explained that he was unemployed and that he was looking for encouragement. He seemed poised to leave, so I invited him to come back anytime. Our chance meeting didn't last more than 5 minutes, but in that time, a man was looking for hope and I handed it to him----in God's Word.

I thought of Mother Theresa's quote "We can do no great things, only small things with great love." All too often I busy myself with what I consider "great things" but miss the small things that are more important, and forget that love should permeate all I do.

"If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I deliver my body to be burned but do not have love, it profits me nothing...."
I Corinthians 13:1-3

Here's to more days ahead of "small things with great love."

family matters

2009-10-31T19:09:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I had a full house. In poker that means, a pair and three of a kind, but to me it means my husband and I and our four kids all together. Cristina and Andrew came home for the first time since they had been back to school this fall. It was so sweet to be together. As you may remember, it was a soggy weekend (not much to look at, weather-wise) but that made it all the cozier. We hung out some, went shopping (I do have three girls, after all) and then had a lovely family dinner together before heading out to the movies. (We saw "Cloudy with a chance of meatballs". It was highly entertaining, a la Toy Story. Great animation and clever lines. Even my oldest kids were like, "Whoa, that was a good movie!") The best thing was just being together really.

A friend of a friend of ours, Dejan, has been over a lot, working on our front door. (We have needed the door to be replaced for some time. I'll never forget that we had this guy live with us one summer and he was like, "Your house is SO easy to break into! Good thing you have nothing valuable to steal!" ;) But, seriously, the door was the original one (and our house was built in the early 1900's). The door was kind of like French doors, with flimsy, single pane glass throughout. Plus, it was starting to fall apart where the doors met at the bottom, so when it rained or was windy, we'd get a draft or rain soaking our little entrance rug. (Not to go on and on about this, but you get the picture----we needed this door replaced!)

At any rate, one afternoon, Dejan heard my girls singing and playing the piano and he asked me, "What's your secret?" He wanted to know why our family was so healthy and happy. I was going to say "Cod liver oil" ;) but decided to be more honest. "It's our faith." I went on to explain that life is like a storm and that we need an anchor to keep us steady when the wind and the waves hit. Dejan is from Serbia and his English isn't great. But I think he got what I was saying.

We are far from perfect, but we do have a peace and joy that is not like the world's. It's nothing of our doing. It's all a gift from God.

joy in the journey

2009-10-16T09:23:00.000-07:00

I was filling out some Body and Soul paperwork this morning, when I started complaining to my co-teacher, Heather, about the process. "Shouldn't the office have some of this info already on file?" It seemed so onerous to be filling in the addresses of the churches where I teach and other info that hasn't changed for the past 10 years. The whole thing felt like a waste of time. Suddenly it struck me that I was acting like a spoiled brat. "I'm a product of the times," I told Heather. I could hardly stand to spend 10 minutes on this form because I considered my time "so precious".

It brought to mind a cool clip of this comedian, Louis CK, who was interviewed by Conan O'Brien some time last year. It's a good word from an unlikely source. Obviously this guy is a student of our culture. The clip has gone viral and been all over the web and Facebook. It's called "Everything's amazing, and nobody's happy".

It really strikes a nerve because it is so true. We are a generation that perceives 30 seconds of extra downloading time to be an eternity and who feels entitled to only the best and fastest of everything.

Watch it yourself---just click on the link below. (I promise it won't take too long! ;)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8r1CZTLk-Gk

To avoid the entitled/spoiled attitude, the difference is gratitude, I think. For joy in the journey, we shouldn't be focused on how we're inconvenienced or what we think we deserve but, rather, we should be thankful for all we have been blessed with.

lesson from the Day of Prayer

2009-10-12T09:02:00.001-07:00

I led worship at World Vision's annual Day of Prayer on the first of this month. A couple of times in recent years, they've asked me to do this. I count it a big privilege because World Vision is an AMAZING organization. They are, according to their mission statement, "a Christian humanitarian organization, dedicated to working with children, their families and communities worldwide to reach their full potential by tackling the causes of poverty and injustice." Basically, they reach out and care for children (and families) all around the world. (Watch the video about their ministry at: http://www.worldvision.org/content.nsf/about/aboutus-home ). Their work is enveloped in prayer, which is one reason they have weekly chapels and this dedicated day, once a year, to intercede for the ministry and its partners.

Well, this all sounds great (and it is) but I have to admit I was more stressed this year than in years past. Every week, starting in late summer, we had conference calls and discussions about the shaping of the program and its various elements. All of this extra time added up to my growing realization of the importance of the day. As the worship leader, I began to feel pressure to make it all as excellent as possible .

This year, they had originally invited some vocalists from Messiah College to participate in the program. I was happy because I knew they would bring some excellent music (and it was a piece I wouldn't have to worry about. :) In the end, though, the students from Messiah backed out, and as I began to rehearse with members of the World Vision staff (people with regular jobs, but who had an affinity for singing or playing worship music), it dawned on me that we weren't necessarily ready for "prime time." We weren't really a team---at least not at the first rehearsal, anyway. And without my usual (and amazing) Woods Praise Team, I was all too aware of my own musical limitations.

When the Day of Prayer came, quite honestly, I was praying quite a bit----and not just for others, but for me! I wanted the worship to go well, but I was worried. WV folks come from a variety of religious traditions and we were going to try to help them come together in a sense of community and unity, to connect with God in a meaningful way. I felt a burden and wondered how it would all turn out.

In the midst of it all, it was hard for me to tell how it was going exactly. We were giving it our all, but were the people responding and worshiping? At the end of the day, as I packed up my gear, I ran into the coordinator of the event. She said to me, "I'm so grateful that you 'get' World Vision." She went on to say that in a previous year they had had a worship leader who was more of a performer than anything else, when what they had really wanted was to be led in worship. I felt relieved! Because that's what I had set out to do----to lead worship, not perform. And, apparently, somehow, that came across----despite my nerves, despite not having my usual team, despite our denominational differences, or any other distractions of that day.

So, now, with the event in my rearview mirror, I thank God for the reminder that the work is His, and not mine and that I am not called to be anything I'm not or shoulder a responsibility that is not mine. Worship begins and ends with God.

quince synopsis (try saying that 5 times, fast)

2009-10-11T14:51:00.000-07:00

The quince celebration was all that we hoped for! I wanted to post pics but I still need to get the cd from my brother-in-law, so instead of visual pics, here are a few snapshots/highlights of the night:

- before the service, the quince court (the 28 boys and girls who were her attendants) were hanging around in this big hall, waiting to run through their dance one more time. We were waiting for Rebeca to get the finishing touches on her hair and make up. When she came up the steps from the room and everyone saw her for the first time, we all gasped. Some of the court girls looked like they were going to cry. We all were amazed. She looked like a princess or Miss America or something! You have to understand----Rebeca is just a regular, down-to-earth kid. It was just unbelievable to see her suddenly so grown up and glamorous. It was definitely a magical moment.

- praying for my daughter in the service was touching----to think of how God has entrusted her to Mitch and I is humbling and wonderful, at the same time. I was glad to be able to publicly thank God, and recognize all those who have had a hand in shaping her character----from school friends, to sports friends, to the church and Young Life. And so many of those very people were present at the celebration----very moving!

- when the court girls were preparing to unveil their "surprise dance", I realized that my cd player was nowhere to be found. How were they going to run through it? They were like, "Oh, we'll just sing it." It was so fun to see the girls cut loose, laugh, and sing (and dance) in a giddy dress rehearsal.

- when we passed out the glow sticks, late in the evening, one kid remarked to Rebeca, "Wow! Your family really knows what kids like!" :)

All in all, it was a beautiful night. We danced to "Y-M-C-A", ate cupcakes and sour patch kid candies, and celebrated our daughter who is transitioning "de nina a mujer". Who could ask for more?

hyper me

2009-09-26T07:20:00.000-07:00

Today's the day of my daughter's big party! I shouldn't even be blogging right now, but when I get excited/nervous/hyper, I feel like I have energy to spare. When I get like this, I sometimes feel like one of those rubber band balls----tightly wound and bouncing around erratically!

Of course I'm thrilled to be throwing this party for my daughter (Rebeca's on the left in the picture), but the process hasn't been all sweetness and light. I was talking in glowing terms of the party in my last blog, but I left something out when I was talking about all the preparations.

I know I'm not the only one, but I have to admit that when life gets frantic and the pressure's on, my "fuse" gets shorter and shorter. I see myself grow increasingly impatient at the tiniest things and things come out of my mouth (and heart) that are not fit to print! :(

For example, as I was driving around last week, running quince errands, I put a lot of papers (deposit slips, etc.) on my passenger seat. (I had been trying to clear out my purse, which gets proportionately more cluttered, the busier my life gets.) At any rate, since it was a nice day, my windows were rolled down as I cruised north on route 2. Well, the next thing I knew, the wind whipped through my vehicle and several papers from the seat just took off through the window! I was dismayed (a nice way to put it ;) and immediately turned around to look for what I'd lost. I quickly realized that one of the things that had flown out the window was a birthday check for my daughter from my mother-in-law. I knew she would not be happy when she heard that her address and personal account information was sitting by some highway in Maryland!

Despite my best efforts, I couldn't find the check. Plus, I had to roll on and do what I was planning to do that afternoon. But I was not a happy camper.

As my family and close friends know, when the heat is on in my life, everything gets more intense----as if the flame on the stove were ratcheted up 10 notches. I'm generally up a couple of notches, anyway, but it's all the more intense. I overreact to just about anything.

Rebeca had glow sticks for the party in her hand the other day and she dropped them, which activated some of them. They started glowing. I gasped, complained, and more, till I realized what I was doing and apologized to her for overreacting.

I don't like that I'm like this, but am grateful for the verse that reminds me that God's not finished with me yet. (Reminds me of this new Brandon Heath song, called "Wait and see". Check it out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kJgTv_yalfw&feature=fvw)

And even if I'm intense and hyper like this for the rest of my life, I'm grateful for the constant love of my Savior and friends and family who either slow down this bouncy ball of "hyper me" or at least let it roll off their backs! :)