Dance in Light

I’m pumped. Let’s get our worship on today. We’re alive! Fist pump it, jump, do that little one foot stomp…worship free and happy.  I’m thankful for the student ministries Winter Jam weekend today. It’s always a crazy insane weekend….but when we get to sneak up and join them for the dance party worship time (aka the first three songs of the night that my kids won’t risk yelling out and interrupting a serious moment) at the beginning of the weekend, I remember what it’s like to have fun and worship from pure joy.

Christians should be the most fun, most happy, most awesome people out in the world. We have the most to sing and dance and yell and raise the roof for. We can laugh at the days to come because the light is the future we walk into…not darkness, not fear, not shame. LIGHT!! Some days are serious and life is still full of trials...but let’s not pass up the days for dancing. I’m compiling an “Alive” playlist on Spotify, feel free to follow it and know that me and my kids are having a straight up dance off in our playroom this Sunday morning before we head out to church.

knowing and being known

The kids are eating clementines (actually Lyric is currently amazed at his ability to “open” them on his own!) I’m taking a quick break from cleaning the kitchen, and we are jamming out to “Glory Is Yours” from Elevation Worship. I can’t help but get psyched out of my mind while I listen to this song and think about a week and a day from now. In a week and a day literally half of our small group is getting baptized, and Austin gets to be the dunker (dunker: a spiritual term for super spiritual people, obviously).

For a period, I didn’t totally love the idea of small group. I guess, what I really mean is that I didn’t really see how it could be something that would make me excited. But now I finally get it. I’m experiencing biblical community who “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” Being allowed into someone’s life, knowing their story, knowing their darkest and brightest times of life, knowing the burden’s they carry, being invited in to share those burdens and pray together…it’s so challenging and life giving and edifying. Being there for the happiest moments, experiencing the life changes, hearing good news, being giddy for surprises yet to be revealed, laughing together…it’s so encouraging and life giving and fun. Being one of those people for somebody is amazing, but selfishly having those people for myself is the biggest gift.

to know and be known

That’s got to be what all of us want most. We want it from our relationship with God, we want it with our friends, we want it with our significant other, we even want it from our social media feed. I’m so thankful for the ones who know me and the ones that I know.

Crafting, Quilting, And Other Myths of Women's Ministry.

So usually my lack of writing is from lack of time. Lately though, it’s been a lack of decision making skills. Right now I feel passionate about so many things. Because I am chronically indecisive when it comes to trivial things (if you have ever EVER gone out to eat with me, or even through a drive thru with me…you know this), I’m forcing myself to just pick one and start writing. So, since I am awaiting the kick off of another ministry year as well as preparing to go to a great women’s event this evening and another in a week or so…I pick ministry! More specifically I pick ministry in the lives of women. Aka…women’s ministry.

Over the past few months I’ve had the chance to talk to women from all backgrounds, living in all different parts of the country, in all different stages of life. Some of them are heavily involved in the church (my beautiful pastors wife sisters….haha I almost wrote sister wives, definitely not the same thing!), some  of them are deeply committed to the Church via para-church organizations, some of them aren’t so crazy about the Church.  But all these women love Jesus. Most of them love the Church. Only a handful love women’s ministry.

Some of you just cringed when you read the words “women’s ministry.” How do I know that? Because there was a time many moons ago, when I too held an unfair prejudice against women’s ministry. I carried around this idea that it was just a bunch of crafty, quilting, cliché, women. And of those women I was certain that I had nothing in common with any of them. But here’s the thing: I was so utterly wrong. I was wrong in four ways really, A)#1: I had the most important thing in common with them, I had Jesus in common with them. At the very very least, I would know more of Him from studying the Word with fellow believers. And…furthermore: there is nothing wrong with moms who craft, or grandmothers who quilt or even people who seem cliché. Those women love Jesus and they are comfortable and secure with who they are. Those two qualities are basically what we are all striving for, am I right? Thirdly, there are some amazing, super cool, women (both beside and ahead of you in life) in women’s ministry. So perhaps….I don’t know…just maybe…instead of hoping that some super amazing older woman will randomly walk into your life to shepherd and encourage you and teach you….maybe you should just take advantage of all the women who are already at your disposal. Fourth and finally, (and this one is going to be harsh, but truthful. And I should also say that I am saying this to both my past and present self just as much, if not more than I say it to you) Get over yourself. Bible study, fellowship, accountability, prayer, worship, friendship: which of these things is so below you?

You have no idea what you are missing out on. Sign up for study at your church and give it a fair chance. And if you go to my church…I will unashamedly tell you that our women’s ministry is the healthiest one I’ve ever been a part of. I can’t emphasize it enough. Don't miss out!

At Some Point I Waved Farewell to "Normal"

Today I am twenty five, but in two days I will be twenty six. But not really, well really, but not. My birthday has been moved to Monday this year. Being a wife and a mom, rescheduling my birthday has become totally normal. The first time I hated it, I shouldn't have to reschedule my one special day! Now, its no big thing. And to top it off, Saturdays are my least favorite day of the week so it all works out. My husband is home for the morning (favorite part) and we have family time, but then he leaves at lunch time for work and comes back after all is said and done with the Saturday night service at our church, usually by 7:15ish. It's not the longest day of the week, but it's my least favorite because it's so broken up that it feels like three different days all squeezed into one long day. I hate taking the kids out on Saturdays because everything is so crowded. So..it's suffice to say that I am just fine with moving my birthday to beloved Monday. Monday is Austin's day off and everyone else is at work and we have practically no waits, no lines, no worries....the world is our oyster. When all my facebook friends are complaining about having a case of the Mondays, I'm happy as a lark. In this stage of life, I've learned that I will just be happier if you can be flexible and adjustable while still being responsible and structured. It's all about balancing expectations. It used to seem so weird and wrong to not have a normal Friday night to Sunday night weekend, it used to seem unfair to reschedule my birthday, one baby used to seem like so much work. Our life is kinda crazy, kinda weird, and kinda the perfect representation for us. Structured, but not the typical way. 

Now, how do I hide this blog post from myself on those days that I want normalcy?

When life gives a beating, blessed am I

I have missed this place...this place for me...but lately I've been denying the call to come back and make the time and use these gifts and talent. I can guarantee you that you can look forward to a post about thankfulness, about community, about health (the good, the bad, and the ugly), and about crazy stay at home mom moments. But in this moment I have to sit down and write the words that are circling around the inside of my head.

Recently I have had the privilege of walking beside a dear sweet friend as she and her husband have taken heartbreak after heartbreak from life. I shared with them recently that during a night of worship at our church, I felt jealous of them. I wasn't jealous of their circumstances--I wouldn't wish them on anyone (and my sweet friend, I wish I could take it away from you). But I was so jealous of their absolute and total need, their thirst, their desperation for Christ and for the hope of heaven. I remember that place. When we were waiting in limbo to find out if I had miscarried (in February), when the bad news of our miscarriage had indeed been confirmed, and when I found out that I was once again pregnant and terrified of what might happen--those were precious times. In the moment I hated all the feelings I was feeling and the place we were in, I felt like it was somehow a bad thing that Christ alone kept me going every day. But when I think about the totality of worship that I felt, it was the one area of my life where I felt passionate. I remember that it didn't matter how big or small the gathering, I felt this compulsion to physically crawl over the rows of chairs in front of me and climb up an invisible ladder and sit in the lap of the Father.  He felt like He was just right there, and He was, but I'm sincerely at a loss for words to describe the closeness I felt during those times. I've done the summer camp thing (and although awesome); I know how to spot a "spiritual high." The most difficult times are different, I don't think anyone would say that adversity brings a spiritual high. But it does bring your flesh, your human nature, to an all time low. Most of us do and say things that we normally wouldn't in times when we feel like we just can't take another minute. This past year and half I look back on those hard times, the heartbreaking days, and the excruciating pain as markers of my spiritual growth and learned reliance on God. The times when I was sad all day, or couldn't move from the pain, the days when I knew that no one could fix my problems, the days when I felt like life had beat me into a limp little pile and then come back for more--those times are when Christ's light shines so brightly. Those times are such precious memories because of how loved I was, because of how much love I felt, because of how much love I needed.

But if it had not been for the good times, for the boring days, for the bible study routines and structure and normalcy with Christ...how would I have recognized His closeness? What would I have done and felt and believed in those moments where I couldn't hold a bible in my hand or sit in church? He would have been just as near, but would I have even known it? Would I have recognized His character and His love? Would I have been able to stop demanding that He change my circumstances and start praising Him for who He is?


I'll leave you with those questions. This is going to have to be a two parter. 

The blood

Right now our church is doing a mini series on The Lord's Supper. It has been awesome so far and there is still more to come. Last week when we took The Lord's Supper as a congregation, it was the sweetest one I think I have ever been a part of. Usually in a big room full of people, it is never really quiet. There is always a baby babbling or a woman unzipping her purse or pages turning or people whispering. ALWAYS. But I promise you, if the room hadn't been carpeted, you could have heard a pen drop. Everything was quiet, everyone was still, and we all knew that He is God. It was the kind of quite that I have only heard in empty places. That sounds contrary to what is was, if it was empty--I think it's because hearts were being emptied of sin and making room for the Holy Spirit. It was beautiful.

The worship team came up for a last song, Nothing But The Blood. And the hope that comes along with the atoning blood which washed me white as snow was overwhelming for me. I thought "I cannot imagine existing, much less living in this world if the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus had never happened." Then for the first time an important light bulb lit. "For those who haven't been told, it is as if none of it ever happened. They live in the darkness of a world with no hope. That is why it is good news. It did happen."

Once I lived in darkness, but someone gave me good news. I think for the first time, I really get that. I really get how important that is.

Easter is here

Easter is almost over and my weary fingers are delighted to type away about such a full day. I'm exhausted, but the good kind of exhausted from rich worship, teaching, fellowship and celebration.

Yesterday I kept thinking about what that middle day between crucifixion and resurrection must have been like for the beloved disciples. I am sure they were in the midst of utter sadness and grief, I wonder if some of them were confused. This was a man that they thought would be a great king, and now it seemed that he was just gone. When I think about the joy and surprise that must have overtaken them when they got news that he had risen and was not in the tomb or when they finally recognized him there with them, it's one of the few things that will make me cry in a public place...I'll just put it that way.

So I will just leave you with this last thought. The most joyful thing about Easter (in my heart at least) is that the only promise that ever mattered was kept. A promise kept. His promise kept.  He is risen, He is risen indeed!

If you have questions about all this Easter business I've been chattering away about, you should definitely check out the Easter message from our church, Harvest Bible Chapel Davenport.