One Quiet Life

My husband and I have been fans of American Ninja Warrior for several years now. I love the stories of the contestants and watching them conquer the crazy obstacles. More than that, though, I admire the community that long-time contestants have cultivated. They travel to encourage other contestants, stand on their side-lines and cheer, and even wear each other's shirts as a sign of solidarity. Even though they are all vying for a chance to advance and hopefully claim a large cash prize, they view each other as comrades rather than competitors. Many of them bring others in and train together. As believers, such a community should be commonplace to us.  It's how the church should work. How would the church look to the unbelieving world if we squelched our jealousy of others' gifts, talents, and opportunities? What if we left our comfort zones by choosing to stand and cheer one another? Can you imagine laying aside our agendas and pointing others to another believer inste...

One morning in late May I faced the reality that I’ve been a terrible steward of the body God has given me. I couldn’t deny it any longer. I knew I had to make a change. I divided my overall goal into smaller ones so that I can celebrate when I achieve each one. I let go of my pride and asked some friends to pray for me. I asked another to hold me accountable. I praise God for their faithfulness. The past 7 weeks have been a learning experience full of ups and downs, but just as full of God's grace. I've nearly met my first goal. I look forward to exercise. I've never told myself I can't have something. I'm sleeping better. Most importantly, I'm feeling better. I've discovered more about how my body works. I've been practicing intuitive eating. I tried different exercise until I found what works best. I created a program that is good for me. I don't expect it to work for everyone. God created us as unique individuals, which seems to imply that ...

There was a forest behind the neighborhood I grew up in. Perhaps 2 or 3 acres of trees doesn't qualify as a forest , but it seemed much larger to me. I would wander through it every now and again. If I lost my way, I would look for a certain uniquely-shaped tree. Once I found it, I knew I wasn't far from the path that would lead me home. ( Source ) I've been thinking quite a bit about that forest recently. Anyone who knows me in real life will surely laugh at the idea that I know anything about trees, and I readily admit that's true. But I did know that one tree and I knew it well, though in all fairness, it was so unusually shaped that it would have been nearly impossible not to take note of it. But what if I had been preoccupied with the enormity of the forest? Would I have noticed that tree? There's an expression, You can't see the forest for the trees . Lately I've been wondering if the church has fallen victim to that mentality. Not that I dis...

It turns out I had vastly overestimated what I had to contribute. I didn't have "more" I needed to give; I actually had nothing God needed to begin with. Nothing. God is not looking for "helpers" to assist Him in saving the world. Yes, He still calls us to give ourselves generously to that mission and to be sacrificially generous with our neighbors. But not because He's short on money, talent, or time. He has never commanded us to go save the world for him; he calls us to follow him as he saves the world through us. - J.D. Greear ( source )

There is a weight to this life; the responsibilities of being a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend. I give them over to God, placing them on the scales and hoping against hope that they will equalize the balance. Source       Consider what I’ve sacrificed!       Notice how much I’ve loved!       See how hard I’ve worked!  And still I come up wanting. No matter how much I seek to find my worth in the works I place in the tray, I can never measure up. My attempts to balance the scales are vain foolishness. The words of Augustus Toplady reverberate in my mind. Nothing in my hand I bring,    Simply to the cross I cling;  Naked, come to Thee for dress;  Helpless look to Thee for grace. -Rock of Ages There is a weight to this life; the fallen world and my sinful nature nearly crush me some days. I wonder if I will be able to bear them much longer. Yet even as I ...

Each time I leave my neighborhood - my comfort zone - I am faced with a choice. I cannot go straight ahead. I must choose, left or right. To the right, and I will be met with rocks, potholes and dust. Yet it is quicker, and I often turn that way when I am in a hurry. To the left, and I will find sheep grazing and a church that rose from the ashes. The lightning strike is emblazoned on my memory, much like the flames that burst forth and the black smoke that seemed to hover for days. In one brief moment I saw God aim His power to consume a temple constructed by man. He had something greater for His people. I can reach my destination by either path. The bumpy road or the smooth one. The parched earth or the green pasture. The choice is mine. I wrestle it more often than I should. Most days I instinctively turn to the easy route, but some days I involutarily choose the other. I set my jaw to absorb the jarring, squint against the dust, an...

You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. ~Psalm 4:7 I close my day and the second full month since leaving my girl in a strange room. Her eyes danced in a mix of nerves and excitment. Mine were steely blue, unaware that tears would come a few days later. They still come at the strangest times. It's been two months in this new normal. It's been more difficult than I imagined, in ways different than I expected. I'm realizing how much of my identity - even, maybe especially, in our home - has been tied to being a mother. The daily demands of motherhood no longer clamor for my attention, a truth that saddens more than it relieves. Treading this foreign territory frequently requires more balance than I've been able to muster, though I am learning. Learning to find joy, because there is much joy to be found. Phone calls and text messages from my girl. Library books that whisk me away to England, France,...

Tears pooled in my eyes as I listened. I didn't know the man at the podium, but I was utterly surprised when he shared his testimony of God's faithfulness. I never would have suspected that he would choose to work with teenagers. He didn't look the part. But once he started speaking, his passion for older children and teens became evident. His love for the Gospel and sharing it with others was tangible. His words took me back to the time in my life when loving others and sharing the Gospel was part of me.  When serving was important. Has it really been seven years?  Not your typical North American soup kitchen Seven years since my eyes were opened... to the poverty that cripples much of our world to the depths of pain unknown in my comfortable life to the despair of those without the hope of the Gospel to the fact that there are families who feel blessed to live in ramshackle accommodations roughly equivalent to the size of my bedroom to th...

Thoughts on 3 John, from Douglas O'Donnell Image Source Fellowship is more than sharing a cup of coffee after the service; it is sharing life together - the joy and sorrows, triumphs and defeats - so that together we might fight the good fight, finish the race, keep the faith, and long for the glory of God's gospel to cover the earth. And this... ..."commendation of community" is a welcome "antidote to the individualism that infects" many local churches. Just as the body of Christ "does not consist of one member but of many" (1 Cor. 12:14), we need one another for service (v. 21), perseverance in holiness (Heb. 10:24-25) and mission (Mark 6:7). And then there's this from Christine Hoover : The Church is our opportunity to give and receive the love of God. It's about relationships in which we sharpen and are sharpened. Our service is a vessel to pass the love of Christ among ourselves...We are held accountable for our individ...

“‘ He lingered .’ (Genesis 19:16) Do not be a lingering soul. Would you know what the times demand?—The shaking of nations,—the uprooting of ancient things,—the overturning of kingdoms,—the stir and restlessness of men’s minds—what do they say? They all cry aloud,— Christian! do not linger! Would you be found ready for Christ at His second appearing,—your loins girded,—your lamp burning. yourself bold, and prepared to meet Him? Then do not linger! Would you enjoy much sensible comfort in your religion,—feel the witness of the Spirit within you,—know whom you have believed,—and not be a gloomy, complaining, sour, downcast, and melancholy Christian? Then do not linger! Would you enjoy strong assurance of your own salvation, in the day of sickness, and on the bed of death?—Would you see with the eye of faith heaven opening, and Jesus rising to receive you? Then do not linger! Would you leave great broad evidences behind you when you are gone?—Would you like us to lay yo...

I was part of the flag corps in high school. Each year we traveled with the band to participate in a large parade. Our band was exceptional, but crowd always came alive when the drum line kicked into high gear. The onlookers didn't understand that the drum line's primary function wasn't to perform flashy solos - which always garnered a great deal of attention and applause - but to keep us in time while we marched. I have to admit it.  I loved it when the drummers showed off. All these years later, I still remember how much I envied their talent. Image Source It seems that drum-bangers are everywhere these days. Political, social, theological - there's a drum line for any cause out there. I've been quick to join them, pounding away as loudly as I could. Begging to be heard. Drowning out those around me. Trying to force them to follow my beat. Lately I've been wondering if my banging has made me deaf to the cries of those around...

“Be not cast down in heart to hear that the world barketh at Christ’s strangers, both in Ireland and in this land; they do it because their Lord hath chosen them out of this world. And this is one of our Lord’s reproaches, to be hated and ill-entreated by men. The silly stranger, in an uncouth country, must put up with a smoky inn and coarse cheer, a hard bed, and a barking, ill-tongued host. Image Source It is not long to the day, and he will continue his journey upon the morrow, and leave them all. Indeed our fair morning is at hand, the day-star is near the rising, and we are not many miles from home. What does it matter if we are mistreated in the smoky inns of this miserable life? We are not to stay here, and we will be dearly welcomed by Him to whom we go. And I hope, when I shall see you clothed in white raiment, washed in the blood of the Lamb, and shall see you even at the elbow of your dearest Lord and Redeemer, and a crown upon your head, and ...

It started with the desire to be acknowledged. Swat. But acknowledgment wasn't enough. I wanted to be right. Swat. Then I wanted to be acknowledged as being right. Pounce. Before I knew it, I was tangled up in the stench and mess. The harder I wrestled, the filthier and stickier I got. Meanwhile, the enemy was rolling in laughter just as Brer Fox did. By God's grace I'm learning that even though the tar baby might often appear friendly and harmless, sometimes the best thing to do is walk away and leave it to melt in the hot summer sun. No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him... But avoid irreverent babble, for it will lead people into more and more ungodliness... Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels. - 2 Timothy 2:4,16,23 (ESV) Image Source

For nearly the whole congregation, or for all of them, and especially the men and the children, there was a disconnection between the little white clapboard church with its steeple and bell, it observances and forms of worship, and the world's daily life and work. It was as though the building itself, its emptiness between services, contained along with its smells of old paper and stale perfume a solemnity that the people entered into and departed from, quickening it for a few hours a week with the stirrings and smells of living flesh, but could neither inflect with the tone of their daily preoccupations nor transpose into their actual lives. This was a disconnection perhaps exactly coextensive with the disconnection they felt between Heaven and Sycamore, eternity and time. Laura recognized these disconnections in the people because she felt them, and labored over them, in herself. - Wendell Berry, " A Desirable Woman " The church of my youth wasn't built of wh...

I grab the Word and pull the covers tight around my waist. I am soon lost in Paul's instructions to the church at Thessalonica. Three exhortations leap off the page. My pencil draws them back there, nailing them down tight to my heart. Encourage the fainthearted . These days I am so faint of heart. The sharp edges of this world have scraped my soul raw. Daggers pierce, wounds fester. How can I give from the shallows? Paul, too, must have been fainthearted. Years of ministry had left him spent. Beatings and chains, not to mention that mysterious thorn (2 Cor. 12:7-9). He had witnessed fighting among the brethren and the Gospel compromised. Surely Paul was weary, yet he encouraged. Help the weak. To bare our weaknesses is a sign of...well, weakness. This photo-shopped, pixel-perfect world has no place for the broken. Am I the only one cowering behind the guise of an ideal life, afraid to lift the veil and let others peer into...

Just two weeks into my 2016 reading plan and I'm already reaping the benefit of reading less and thinking more. The slower pace gives me space to tie my reading together and apply it. Though beneficial, I can't say it's entirely fun. In fact, this extended pondering has led to conviction and brokeness. Read the rest here ...

God's promised Messiah was a merciful gift of love to a people who needed both mercy and love. He could come to them in all their pain, brokenness, and struggle, and make everything new. They were desperate for this, and the proof of their desperation was perhaps most evident in the fact that they couldn't bring themselves to live as though this promise was real. ~Russ Ramsey, Behold the Lamb of God The gift of the Messiah is no less merciful today. Right here, right now. In the midst of my sinfulness - my stubborn pride, my harsh words, my critical spirit - God's mercy through Christ pours over me. I am in need of mercy and love. Oh! how great is that need! He meets it, without fail. He comes into my pain, brokeness, and struggle every day. Every day. Yet I am so wrapped up in my flesh that I forget God became flesh and dwelt among men in order to redeem me from this broken world. From suffering and sorrow. From sin and guilt. Like the children of Israel, I am desp...

I'm your mama now. Coming from anyone else, it would have been presumptuous. Only a few days had passed since I held Mama's hands and whispered goodbye. Yet there she was, the beautiful lady holding my hands and looking at me with eyes full of motherly love. In reality she had already been mothering me for a long time, but on that day the Lord knit our hearts together even more tightly. Lately I've been leaning on her more than usual. She understands my need for Christmas . She listens. She prays for me. She loves me well. I am the daughter she didn't have. She is the mother I now have. I know Mama would understand. She would approve. Several of my friends have written thought-provoking articles about women's ministry recently ( Persis' post here links to all the others). Although I'm late to the discussion, I've spent a great deal of time pondering where I fit into women's ministry. I still don't have the answers, but I do know that I...

Today I'm at Out of the Ordinary, sharing my thoughts on the latest round of Christian disputes.  Join me, won't you?

In 1 Corinthians 1:10-17, Paul describes four factions within the church at Corinth.  He sees that the church is fracturing over non-gospel issues. He urges them to agree, to be united in the same mind and the same judgment. David Prior points out that Paul was keen ...on harmony - not unison. He believed that it was not merely possible for Christians of many different kinds to live together in harmony, but that this was their calling from God. Such mutual recognition, giving each person the freedom to express his convictions and insights, would lead to a restoration of true unity... ( source )  This group of believers had come together in a largely immoral city. There was enough opposition to Christianity outside of the church; they certainly didn't need to be fighting against each other. Yet they found themselves divided into cliques. The "Paul" Followers. Perhaps they were devoted to Paul because he planted the church and he was the first one to lead them in the...