The Risen Son

The first day of Thanksgiving Break, as is the norm anymore, I found myself wide awake at 5:30 a.m. even though I finally remembered to turn my alarm off.  

I found myself sitting on the couch, where I was house sitting, completely blinded by the light of the rising sun. For first time since August, I penned (well, pencilled) the thoughts of my heart - proving the healing found in stillness and looking at life from a different perspective. 

(Chorus)

His love is blinding 

Yet reviving

Hope is rising

To a new day dawning

Hearts are rended

Old wounds are tended

We're made new

Like the morning dew 

In the risen Son! 

(Verse 1) Come to the river

Come be delivered

Wash off the wild

Be made new like a child 

In the light of the Son

Chains come undone

The time for singing has come! 

(Verse 2) Tears are flowing

Cold hearts melting

New blooms discovered 

Leaves Joy uncovered 

Freedom is calling 

Come out to meet Him

The time for singing has come! 

I'm so grateful for this Thanksgiving retreat, and for my my friend & brother for turning my little verse into a fun song.  I love writing and have felt somewhat lost without it.  

Reflect (another new song)

This is another sermon note song.  SO much fun to write, and helps me internalize what scripture is saying through the sermon.  

A couple weeks ago I had to deal with someone who has been really mean to me.  Out if the wounds she inflicted my heart responded with defensive and angry words.   It occurred to me that if Jesus made a feast for me and invited me to be the guest of honor - and she was there, I would be so filled up with His delight in me and interactions I had with her would come out of the overflow of His love for me....and yeah, His love for her too (I guess).  ;-)

Reflect

Set a feast before me and my enemy
Though I'm feelin' slain, I will trust
Help me speak the truth - the truth in love 
Let my words be only Yours
Let my words be only Yours

(Chorus) 
Exposing lies, speaking truth
Revealing hope and binding wounds
Help us to see your sovereignty
Let us be made new
Living proof that you are true
Help us be the masterpiece you drew
Let my words reflect only You

I'm scared to speak without sugar to coat
Let alone risk salty words
My good name is found in you alone 

Righteousness comes from You
My righteousness comes only from You

(Chorus)

Runnin' away when I don't know what to say
Afraid of wounds not yet healed
Open up my eyes to hope renewed
Let Your healing start with me
Oh let healing start with me!

(Chorus)

(Bridge)

If I speak with tongues of angels and I ain't got no love;

I do more damage than good. 

If I walk away and never speak up for the truth,

How will they know about You? 

(Chorus)

(Tag)

Let my words reflect only You.

RIP Syril

I miss my phone.  His name was Syril, an Australian version of Siri with an incredibly attractive accented male voice.

Syril, like me, has lived through a lot of hard times. 

In its tattered and torn condition, all were surprised that it continued to be functional.   First came that adorable Dr. Who case which was way more cute than functional.  Then, that fateful day when I ducked into a hallway to avoid an untimely interaction, it fell out of my hand.  The glass was shattered into a thousand pieces.  I learned two things.  Avoidance doesn't pay, and packing tape works wonders for keeping fingers from being sliced open.

But all the extra lines gave me headaches when I tried to read and see what I typed into texts.  Removing the shards of glass allowed me to pretend that all was somewhat back to normal.  Packing tape, again, was my friend as the underlying screen was a bit sticky.

The few remaining shards at the edges stood out like badges of honor.  Kind of like some of my scars that have been showing lately.

Stress brings wounds to the surface...and if our wounds have left us without some basic protections, a greater damage can occur.  That's what happened to my phone.  Something bent that wasn't supposed to and - poof!  The touch screen capability was gone with 2/3's of the screen.

So, I'm #grateful for my phone dying, because I'm beginning to realize that God doesn't just want me to merely survive.  Survival seems more to point to my tenacity and not God's beauty and redemption.

He isn't just binding my broken places.  Abba isn't simply applying a sweet healing balm.  He is making something beautiful out of the ashes I have surrendered to Him.  Our God is creative, and loving and He longs for us to be whole...not  merely jerry-rigged.

Isaiah 55
12 “For you shall go out in joy
    and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you
    shall break forth into singing,
    and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
13 Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;
    instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle;
and it shall make a name for the Lord,
    an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.”

The New Heaven and the New Earth -  Revelations 21
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. 2 And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. 4 He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

5 And he who was seated on the throne said, 

“Behold, I am making all things new.” 

Syril is just mostly dead....like in the Princess Bride.  But maybe soon it will rise from its ashes too.  :)  Until then, I'll be using an older and slower (but new and whole) version - which actually fits me better!

Shells vs. Skeletons

Lately I've been feeling hollowed out and vulnerable, and a lot like dry bones.  Grief can do that.  

Yet, somehow I feel tenaciously beautiful, like a seashell.  

I'm so grateful that God let us enjoy the beauty of shells that we find on the beach.  I think it could be part of His plan to help us see the beauty in our hardships.  

Abba makes beauty out of ashes.  

This video creeped me out last week.  

http://youtu.be/irF5sBTVniI

Just like I don't picture a cow when I buy hamburger at the grocery store, I don't usually think of the creature that used to live inside.  

Shells I have found on the beach seen to come with a sort of magic filter.  I'm immediately enraptured by the beauty and intricacies of its design.  Rarely do I grieve the life that has been lost.  

Perspective is everythjng.  We can think of the remains of our hardships as skeletons, or as seashells.  

Worshiping in Truth (extended)

Recently I ran across this passage in John that talked about worshiping in spirit and truth.  I had to ponder it for awhile.  Strong's definition of truth was "that candor of mind which is free from affection, pretense, simulation, falsehood, deceit."

Free from pretense, falsehood and deceit was a no brainer.  We all know that empty worship is ...well, empty.  Going to God with praises that have ulterior motives would be hurtful to him.  It would be like one of my students telling me that I look pretty today just so they can have extra time on the iPad or can get away with not having their homework finished.  Luckily I don't usually schmooze God.  But we've all been there.  "Get me out of this horrible situation and I'll praise you.  

Truth in this situation is that God is good and deserves our praises even when things are bad.  

"Simulation" makes me think of a liturgical type of worship without the heart to back it up.  We can easily fall into the rut of saying the same prayer every day, or singing the all too familiar song without thinking about what the words mean.  Simulated worship has no traces of the wonder that we feel looking at a nebula for the first time, or seeing the intricate details on a baby's fingers.    

Being free from affection is  the part of the definition of truth that stumped me for a bit.  What I've come up with is that it's kind of how I would hope that Sheldon Cooper would worship should his character come to believe in God. We can worship God for the facts of who He is.  

Ultimately it all is encompassed in God being the I AM.  But what would it be like to list everything that God is with a grateful heart.  

I wrote this a while ago hoping it would be a song someday.  I still do. 

You are power

You are love

Your rule is just

Your mercy flows

Your heart is tender

Your eyes never sleep

You reign victorious on your throne

Yet you are here...You are here

singing over me.   

(and just like that...I think it meshes with the sweet little thing I wrote last night!  This song writing stuff is SUPER fun!  Let's worship y'all!)

You sing over me

A song in the night

This love song so sweet
Covers over the dark that's haunting me

Chivalry's not dead

You go before me...

With a love so fierce

You overwhelm me

(edit/addition) 

I love how the Holy Spirit works.  I've been pondering this passage for a long time.  Imagine how my heart's antennas shouted for joy when Pastor Paul said this:  

"Do you realize the reason why worship is so powerful is it's not because we're not just singing songs about God, or we're singing songs about what we believe.  We are singing songs about what IS.  Do you know what the truth is?   The truth IS what IS.  It's not my opinion.  It's not my feeling about it.  The truth is what IS.  So when we worship, filled with the Holy Spirit, we're not just singing to the Lord - 'Here's who You are'.  ...and God's like "I know! and by the way I'm a little bit excited about the songs you are singing...  but we are proclaiming to God what the truth is about God, because God is the truth.  Jesus says 'I am the way the truth and the life.' "

Later in the sermon he asked the question:  "Have circumstances dictated the authenticity of your prayer or worship; or does your God inspire you to pray or worship in spite of them?"  

I consider worship one of my love languages.  Yet I'm a sinful worshiper.  In reflecting on my motives for worship, I came up with this list:

*I worship because I'm hungry.  "As the deer pants for the water so my soul longs for God"  Psalm something er 'nother.  

*I worship to be known.  Many times when I raise my hands during worship it's like that time when a teacher requests "Raise your hands if you love salmon."  Y'all know my hand will *shoot* up and you might hear "ooo!  Mee!!!  I love salmon!  It's my favorite!"    I raise my hands during worship because the words of the song we are singing, or the words of scripture I'm listening to apply to me without a shadow of any doubt.  

*My worship is an act of intimacy with the lover of my soul.  Every so often I can't just worship with my heart and words, my hands have to get involved.  Sign language is SUCH a blessing and adds a depth to my ability to communicate deeper truths to God.  When I lived in Texas I learned a sign that used the 'I love you hands' most of us are familiar with.  This sign uses both ILY hands and they face each other, moving in a circling pattern which signifies the kind of love that a husband and wife share.  Jesus is the lover of my soul.  His love is tender and intimate, and fierce.   

*I worship to celebrate -  raising hands in worship can also be a celebrating act much like a sports fan in reaction to an incredible play.  My God is incredible...which brings me to the other reason I raise my hands in worship - identity and surrender

*I am who am I am made to be when I sing my praises

...but more so when I sacrifice who I think I want to be and abandon control so that Abba can shape and reform my heart and breathe His life into me.  Like a toddler who is weary from the journey, or who just needs the reassurance of being held by her Daddy.  

Here's that question again:   "Have circumstances dictated the authenticity of your prayer or worship; or does your God inspire you to pray or worship in spite of them?"  (Pastor Paul)

What prompts me to worship?  

adoration,wonder, and heart swelling love

...sometimes loneliness and a longing for intimacy that can't be filled by anything other than Jesus

comfort, clinging, and desperation

inspiration, awe, and that feeling of being completely floored

...and sometimes I worship when I want to remind God who He is, like a child who says "but you promised...", because my faith is small and in the presence of the hardest things to bear, I need to be reminded of how solid my Rock really is.

I need to be reminded of the Truth...because I'm a forgetful worshiper.

Running To Jesus

Thanks to Brandon Church for helping SO MUCH with this song.  :)

1) Running to Jesus with reckless abandon
Willingly rending my heart
Surrendering idols, fasting, praying
Obedience is what makes us free

Grace, it shakes me
and
Sobers me up
When I'm drunk with my own power
Tryin' to take over

Grace, calls to me
Take up your cross and lay down the future.

2) Running to Jesus with arms open wide
Willing to keep moving on
Surrendering comfort, forgiving and serving
Resting in Him makes us whole

Grace, saves me
and
Sings over me
When the waves are crashing down
and I'm drowning in sorrow
Grace, calls to me
Lift up your eyes and hope for the future

(bridge) Lift your eyes...

3) Running to Jesus to tell Him I'm sorry
For making a mess yet again.
Accepting forgiveness, that I don't deserve
Trying to keep moving on

Grace died for me!
So I could be free
Though I've carved my own path
Forgotten who I'm made to be
Grace, calls my name
"I loved you before
I cherish you still."

(bridge) Lift your eyes....

Running to Jesus with arms open wide
Willing to keep moving on.

A Bluesy Psalm

I deeply yearn to be like David, who screws things up Royally, but always runs back to Truth. He was known to have a heart that pursued God.  I'm really good at the screwing things up part at least.  

I read Psalm 88 this morning, and was oddly encouraged.  Over and over and over I've seen psalms that follow the same pattern:  1. things suck  2. God doesn't   3.  I'll trust Him more and the things that suck either will cease to matter, or will get miraculously better.  I thought that formula defined what it meant to have a heart after God. 

But in Psalm 88, nothing gets better.  I don't know who Heman the Ezrahite was (and I laugh that maybe, just maybe SheRa will show up in a Psalm too!)  I love HeMan for showing me that things can suck for a long time, and that we can have faith in such way that a resolve doesn't have to come in the 3 minutes it takes to sing a song.  

An entire season in life - or a whole Psalm Song can be devoted to questioning without receiving an answer.

I don't know who said or wrote that (maybe it was me?? Haha!)  it meant enough to me to write it down as a note that could possibly become a song though.    

Our unmet longings bring up questions. 
Questions are an important part of a relationship. Questions are a way of wrestling with something inside that is unresolved.  There is a beautiful vulnerability and tension to asking a question, like that time Jacob wrestled with God.

So what does this Psalm have to do with the Blues?  I'm still learning about what makes up chords in this incredible genre of music, but what I know is that there seems to be a focus on playing the chord with an added 7th.  

It's like this whole psalm/song is beautifully and awkwardly wrestling with and yet resting on the tension of the 7th tone of a scale. 

In my mind, when I hear a chord with an added 7th, I instinctively hear it resolving. Like so many of life's problems, it hasn't resolved yet, but someday it will.  Maybe tomorrow, maybe not until heaven, but I can question God when things get rough because I know He is the answer.  

This could be why I like listening to the Blues so much.  😎

The Power in a Lie

I'm still learning how to see me through God's tender eyes.

Growing up, I was always taller than all of my classmates, and therefore, weighed more.  I began to believe that I was fat LONG before extra pounds found their way onto my frame.  Regardless of my weight, however, I don't remember ever feeling pretty.

My favorite colors as a little girl were anything BUT pink and purple.  (still true)  I'm told green and orange were my favorites as a little girl.   Dresses?  BLECH!  NO WAY!  Orange and green are finding their way back into my heart lately.  Blues and yellows have been favorites for as long as I can remember.

I didn't know many other girls who hated dresses like me, or who thought pink stuff was kind of gross.  So, I began to believe that I didn't fit in.  I believed the lie that being unique was bad.

So, who am I?    I am 40 something.  I have bifocals and am sprouting new grey hairs daily.  I'm a good bit overweight, though a lot thinner than I used to be. My knees and ankles...okay, my whole body aches as I try out my first moves each morning.  It's possible I even have bunions or hammer toes or some other foot thing only old people get.

I'm not putting myself down when I say this.   Just stating measurable facts.  It doesn't define who I am; nor does my job, my marital status, my income - or lack thereof...   These things can't (shouldn't) define me.  They are just facts.

When I live my life out of the darkness of shame, I can't clearly see who I am - it's dark and hidden.  My husband told me a lie that I believed for far too many years.  He said I was ugly, grotesque even.  Out of my woundedness, I agreed with him.  I lived in such a dark place back then.  I often walked with my shoulders slumped and my head down.  My existence was filled with activities designed to gain approval from people who don't matter, just so I could pretend to feel good about myself.

For me to walk (ok...lately, limp) as a daughter of the King (aka princess) in the light of truth, is to learn to see me from my Abba's point of view.  He doesn't look on my outsides.  But He created them, and the first thing he said after creating us was to comment on how good his opinion of us is.

He adores me, desires me, and delights in me.  I am beloved.  I am chosen.

To be fair, He also sees my scars, the wounds that haven't yet healed, and the black marks I sometimes cut into my heart with sinful choices.  Light does that...makes things more visible.  None of this changes His love for me or my identity.  I am imago dei - made in the image of the I AM.

A couple weeks ago, I saw my reflection in a shop window.  My usual reaction feels like the emotional equivalent to a sucker punch in the gut.  Shop windows don't lie.  Mirrors only tell half truths, because I present my best to them so I can avoid rejection.  So, there I was, April 2nd, wearing a shirt I had purchased a few years ago but had never worn because it had always been too small.  I was downtown, on my way to my favorite gluten free sandwich shop when I caught a glimpse of my profile, and I took a 2nd (and maybe a 3rd) look before smiling with amazement.  For the first time ever, I liked what I saw:

• I looked confident.  I stood straight, not broken down by harsh lies.  
• I looked happy.  There was joy and freedom in my heart that day.
• I looked free.  Giving up all the things that weigh me down:  foods that I find comforting but that my body is allergic to, extraneous commitments, and other unnecessary burdens (idols) is an ongoing practice, but the fruits of that labor are SO sweet. 
• I looked soft.  Letting my hair down is a big part of letting go of trying to control everything.  

I'm so grateful for that incredibly powerful moment.  It is forever ingrained upon my heart as a restore point.  I can talk a good talk when it comes to beauty, but, truthfully, I don't always believe it.  I hope I have more sightings.  But more importantly, I hope I can stop putting my heart's stock into all those lies.

Because, lies only have power if they are believed.

In His Eyes - Becoming Real

A handful of you know that I've been writing songs.  It's one of the most frustrating, wonder filled, delightful, and meaningful things I've done.  I'm a huge fan of David always singing a new song to God.  I want to do that too.  

Psalm 144:9  says "I will sing a new song to you, O God; 

upon a ten string harp I will play to you."     

My guitar only has 6 strings, but I'm pretty sure Jesus is okay with that. 

The other night a friend asked me to share something I had written recently.  Before I began singing, I said "This is something I wrote -"  My friend interrupted me chuckling and saying "Why do all song writers say that? ..."  

Y'all, I generally don't believe that I'm a real song writer, even though I was labeled as such.   My songs are primitive and hopefully honest reflections of what I see Jesus doing in His mind boggling love for me (and you!).  My super talented guitar teacher blows me away when he takes each feeble offering and transforms it into something super cool.  He is a real song writer, and a gifted musician as well.  I'm so grateful to have his input and encouragement.

Although I knew my friend was teasing me, it wasn't until today that I began to wonder if I'm actually becoming a Velveteen Song Writer of sorts.  

 I suppose time will tell if this melodic journey will continue long enough to become part of my identity.   

In the meantime....here's a little number I wrote during church.  (Does songwriting count as taking notes during the sermon?)  I worked on it Sunday afternoon and into the evening.  When all was said and done, I pretty much hated it.  Today, I offered it up to Brandon thinking he'd confirm how mundane it sounded.  He did, but like a true teacher, as he encouraged, he tweaked a couple things,  changed most of the chords, and altered the chorus - all the while including me in the process.  I think some of you might like it.  I had our rough draft recording on repeat for about an hour in the car while I ran errands.  I am amazed at how much I like it.  

Much like me as a song writer, and the 'beauty for ashes' process of writing it, this song is about a Velveteen journey of sorts for Mary Magdalene.  She was the first to discover that Jesus was gone from the tomb where he had been laid, and the one from whom was driven 7 evil spirits.  She loved Jesus.  It was she who broke that jar of expensive perfume and used it to anoint Jesus shortly before Passover.  

In His Eyes

(verse 1)

Here I am at the tomb

Grieving all that I've lost

My Jesus, crucified

All for love of me

He died up on that tree

Now...He's gone

(verse 2)

Was I ever known?

Was I really free?

Was I loved? Was I made whole?

Was I ever strong?

Could I still belong?

(chorus A)

In His eyes

I was known

I was loved; I was strong

In His eyes

I was free

I was whole 

and I knew that I belonged.

(verse 3)

The stone is rolled away

Tell me where He's gone!

The gardener is a carpenter

My teacher and my friend

His reign will never end! 

(chorus B)

In His eyes

I am known

I am loved; I was strong

In His eyes

I am free

I am whole 

and I know that I belong

(verse 4)

Death now knows defeat

See His hands, His side

My Jesus, glorified

Risen from the grave

For our souls to save

(chorus C)

He's Alive!!!

We are known

We are loved; We are strong

In His eyes

We are free

We are whole 

We can know we belong.  

An Obedient Birth of a Song

This is the hardest song I've ever written. I was closing the door on it when I got this text paired with a video of her adorably precocious son singing one of my songs (with a line or two of another thrown in).  "You oh God are both tender and kind, Slow to anger, Immense in love...and you never never never never quit"

I was so sweetly slayed with her en-couraging words.  In the parking lot of Lowe's Foods, where I was reading her text, I wept.

Obedience sometimes needs encouraging- the building up kind; and sometimes there is weeping involved. 

Later at home,  I found myself gloriously in the search function of my Bible app looking for a way to word lyrics so they could speak truth without exasperating. 

Here's the journey of what I found:

1.  Before Proverbs there is a *lot* of pairing "obey" with "voice".    Which implies listening.  Obedience is conversational and relational.  I need to practice listening.  

  

2.  Proverbs 30:17

The eye that mocks a father

and scorns to obey a mother

will be picked out by the ravens of the valley 

and eaten by the vultures.

...lovely (not to mention enticing)  

3. Ezekiel 36:24-27

I will take you from the nations and gather you from all the countries and bring you into your own land. I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules.

That last verse again...

Ezekiel 36:27

And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules.

- so glad the Spirit can make the impossible possible.  Obeying is HARD stuff.  Especially if my flesh wants to run at full speed away from an act of obedience.  Maybe if I ask God to help more I'll be a little more obedient? 

4.  Ephesians 6:1-4

Children and Parents

​Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. “Honor your father and mother” (this is the first commandment with a promise), “that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land.” Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.

5. Colossians 3:20-21

Children, obey your parents in everything, for this pleases the Lord. Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged.

...déjà vu 

6. 1 John 5:2-3

By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome. 

I forgotten all about that passage from my original research.  (Yay for JC and Da Boys!)

NIV says it like this:  

1 John 5:3

In fact, this is love for God: to keep his commands. And his commands are not burdensome,

....and another song is born.  :-)

Labor?  Yes.

Pain? You bet.

Community? So sweet.

Joy in delivery?  Definitely.  

I'll post the video in an edit...if I make one.  

I'm so grateful for everyone who helped make this song possible.  My bro Paul, who helped shape the perspective of the song, Lydia, an amazing encourager, and my rockin' rabbi Brandon who has an amazing way of taking my little songs to a whole new level.  

Let's hope this one is a hit with the kiddos! 

(Edit:  promised video link). http://youtu.be/VcPCH1Sw_XY

Songs of Obedience?

Our memory verse for March is Ephesians 6:1.  My challenge to myself this year has been to write a song that goes with the memory verse each month if a more suitable song hasn't already been written.

But when I read "Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for that is right."  ...I ...um...wasn't inspired lyrically.

at all.

I read around the passage, and all I could envision was a cheesy song without any depth.   Possibly because I'm struggling with obedience right now, myself.

Discipline isn't something I easily come by - follow through either.  I lack motivation for tasks my heart isn't into.

After spending 12 to 14 hours doing stuff for school, I'd MUCH rather spend my only free hour in the evening playing guitar than load the dishwasher, or redeem my floors with my broken vacuum cleaner - which is broken because I haven't taken some of my nightly "free time" to go to the hardware store to pick up a new belt thingy so the rotating brush will work again.

This avoidance of Ephesians 6:1 has gone on for a few weeks now.  Sad, but true.  Last week, I noticed that a chorus I previously written started morphing into a song about obedience.

...and I quickly stopped working on it! LOL

But then this was read in church today.

1 John 5 (just one chapter away from last month's memory verse for the kiddos)

"In fact, this is love for God;  to keep his commands.  And his commands are not burdensome, for everyone born of God overcomes the world.  This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith."

...yeah.   That.

The double edged sword, that faithful, tender, uncompromising, living Word spoke both to my avoidance of discipline and to my fear of being overwhelmed by it.  Abba adores me enough to send his Holy Spirit to instruct me - and comfort me in the process.

He delights in me enough to discipline me by speaking to me in truth and in love; and He cherishes me enough to send a brother to admonish.  This morning in church I took down these notes during Pastor Paul's sermon:

"Make war with the part of you that is not doing anything about a known sin.  Make war against apathy.  Make war against avoidance of conviction; and hold Jesus' hand...Mark 8 vs 23  

I was a bit distracted by the spit in this miracle and it tickles me that I actually wrote down:  "I don't think a song has ever been written asking Jesus to "spit on me"  ...burn my lips with hot coal?  yes.  ...but spit??"   Ha!  Can you imagine?  Though distracted, the seeds of conviction entered my heart.

Tonight I found these scriptures on the topic:

1 Samuel 15:22

And Samuel said,

“Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices,

    as in obeying the voice of the Lord?

Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice,

    and to listen than the fat of rams.

Hebrews 12

1Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

God Disciplines His Children
4 In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. 5 And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says,

“My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline,

    and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,

6 because the Lord disciplines the one he loves,

    and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.”[a]

7 Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? 8 If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. 9 Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! 10 They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. 11 No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.

12 Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. 13 “Make level paths for your feet,”[b] so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.

(sigh)....so, it's just possible there will be a song in there somewhere, now.

I'm so #grateful He is making me into a new creation - even if it hurts a little in the process.

At least we aren't alone.

Two things I learned during storytime

I heart bedtime stories.  

Last night, while reading stories, (okay, one *very* long story that an adorable and precocious little boy chose with a gleam in his eye as he declared "and you're going to read the whole thing!") both children snuggled around me on the couch (think low back couch that also creates a perch), one nameless precious one became distracted by "those white stripes" in my hair.  

Both children begin searching my head for "granny hairs" to count 😳!  I blocked out the number LOL!  Why did I stop plucking them?? Probably because Grannies are awesome.  Full of love, too.  Plus, they don't take themselves too seriously.  Am I too young for grey hair?  Absolutely! (Well...not really, but shhhh 😉) 

What's the other thing I learned about storytime last night? 

 It's not about the book, and definitely is about the relationship! 

From the Mouths of Babes

I have the joy and honor of working with children at my church on Wednesday nights.  Each month we have a fruit of the Spirit that we are concentrating on.   This month logically is Love.  The memory verse that goes with it is 1John 4:7

In an effort to encourage the children to memorize scripture and hide it in the soil of their hearts, we are offering a prize each time a child recites it from memory.  This week was the first week.  Some of the kids were AMAZING and had it memorized very quickly tonight.  Others were SO eager to get it, or thought they had it, made a few mistakes.  Almost every child who got it wrong the first time (LOL or first few times!) consistently said this:

"Dear God, ..."

I love that.  Because God first loved us, too.  We definitely shouldn't forget to love Him.  

"Dear God, let us love one another..."

We've been talking about how to love one another well, how Jesus loves us SO MUCH that he took all of our sins upon himself.

(worthy side note:  I absolutely am amazed at the visual this video gives of that sweet sacrifice Christ made on our behalf.  It's made for young children, but I got goosebumps watching it, and was struck again at the weight of what He took on out of his *immense* love for us - even while we were still sinners.)

"Dear God, let me love and desire you more than what I think I want instead." 

It's so easy to begrudge God when I have to repent/turn away from my bad choices.  Sometimes I don't remember that choosing You brings better things (way better!) than what I imagine my way could temporarily bring.  I have to ask my self, am I loving God when I am faced with a situation that calls for rugged obedience (the hard kind).   He is already loving me so well, am I returning that love?

"Dear God, let me love you, and trust you when really hard things happen; and I'm disappointed, let down and filled with grief."

...yeah that.  I know too well that the temptation is to love myself by wrapping up in self-pity - or worse, putting on the extra blankets of contempt and bitterness.

If you want to know how much Jesus loves us, definitely watch this video!  

(-even if you're no longer a kid - or a kid at heart.)

Love you!

Snow Day Song - Love Abounding

Snowflakes drifting to the ground
Lilting, swirling all around
Snowflakes fall all through the night
All the land is new and white

You renew me
You restore me
You delight in me
Love abounding!

Howling winds bring nighttime fear
Morning light reminds You're near
Darkness falls, a deafening sound
Sunrise promise, Hope is found

You protect me
You are with me
And you quiet me
Love abounding!

Why am I so quick to fear?
Don't I know You're always near?
When the storms of life do blow
_Where does my courage go?

Lord you know me
You calm me
You've redeemed me
Love abounding!

Snowflakes drifting to the ground
Lilting swirling all around
Snowflakes fall all through the night
All my heart is new and white

You renew me
You restore me
You delight in me
Love abounding!

Brought to you by Red Polka Dot Pajamas, not enough snow, and the sweet love of our Emmanuel. 

My Shade of Grey

oh my word.  OH MY WORD!  Jesus is so sweetly tender.  Truly!!!

I can't wait to tell you just one tiny way He made his love clear to me last night.

I've been struggling with this whole aging thing for weeks.

Well...months.
                                    ...ok... years.  

{back story #1}  I have always prided myself on the comments I get about my youthful appearance - especially my skin.    I've blamed it on being Swedish, being fluffy, or I pretend to blush while I'm putting another tally mark in the corner of my mind (another person agrees with my preferred opinion!)

Yup.  I'm a sinful worshiper.  A fluffy, Swedish...and now, gray-haired, idolatrous worshiper.  I even had a nightmare the other night about finding a super long silver hair that had grown unnoticed.  True story.

Y'all...
* I have PLUCKED each and every single silver hair that has ever dared to sprout out of my head completely out of my scalp.  Yet, they dare grow back.
* I joined the 20&30 something small group at church... in my 40's.
* I even started wearing a high ponytail - because I like how young it makes me look.  (Okay, also because moving the ponytail up that high removes that irritating bump I feel when I put my head against the seat rest in my sweet little bug.  I have sensory issues.)
* ...I drive a granny smith apple green convertible VW Beetle. (2nd childhood?)

You get the picture, right, I don't want to age, and I want to keep pretending that I'm young.

Years ago it was the opposite for me.  I see my elementary school students trying so hard to be older.  I see High School students chomping at the bit to finally turn 21.

What  is it that happens to the women in our culture when we turn 30?   Why all the hair dye, the wrinkle cream, and the tooth whitener?  God gave us all natural beauty.  When we watch our children grow up, we mourn the loss of nursing, but rejoice in their 1st steps.  When was it that I bought the lie that my sprouting grey hairs aren't as exciting as loosing teeth is to a kid in the first grade?

I didn't really make a New Year's Resolution, but over Christmas break, I did resolve not to become bald.  My sweet little scalp has spouted several silver and white strands lately.  Each were destroyed, but some of the surrounding golden browns have fallen to the friendly fire of my tweezers.

(my hand, and my Gram's)

{back story #2}  I recently spent the weekend at a nursing home with my precious Gram.  Oh how I love her and Grandpa SO.  Nothing like spending the night in a nursing home with the aging to bring up thoughts and fears of aging. While at prayer last week, I stumbled up onto this:

Psalms 90:1-7
A prayer of Moses the man of God.
​Lord, you have been our dwelling place
throughout all generations.
Before the mountains were born
or you brought forth the whole world,
from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
You turn people back to dust,
saying, “Return to dust, you mortals.”
A thousand years in your sight
are like a day that has just gone by,
or like a watch in the night.
Yet you sweep people away in the sleep of death—
they are like the new grass of the morning:
In the morning it springs up new,
but by evening it is dry and withered...

Aging is part of the beauty that God orchestrated from the dawn of time.  How can I claim to love Autumn - with all it's glorious symbolism, and yet despise the (beautiful?) color changes of my own head?

Don't laugh - {back story #3} (sorry)  Gram's roommate is losing her memory.  I watched her wake up each morning surprised by the handsome man in the picture only to be delighted with surprise when she remembered he was her husband.  No matter how many times I showed her how to use the faucet on the sink, she still asked for my help.

That night  she said to me "I don't know why I keep forgetting things.  I used to be in charge of everything.  Now?  Look at me."  Her grief was real.  She knew something was wrong.  I somehow finally "got" it.  There is hope even for her in the twilight of her time here.  There is purpose for the elderly. In every change of life there is something lost, and an adventure waiting to be discovered.  It's okay to grieve what is lost as long as we don't miss the joy of the mystery in our despair. Bless her heart, she has probably forgotten our conversation already.  I pray there is someone to encourage her and let her know every day that she has worth.

{finally, the story}.
I started worshiping last night, kinda late.  I found a chord, changed it, tweaked it...strummed a pattern...quieted my soul...waited, and listened.  The only phrase that came to me was "Carry me".    The melody and feel that my strumming pattern had was that of a drifting canoe.  I went with it for a while and knew that I was just scratching the surface of the new song that Jesus is writing on my heart.

Carry me

Carry my hope

Set me free

Carry me

Carry the light

let me see

Carry me

Through this fire

to Your desire

I liked it okay...but nothing really sat right except the 'carry me' part.  Those two words haunted me, beckoned me to find something more than a toddler's wish.

All day long, any time I had a second to breathe, it seemed like 'carry me' was being whispered in my heart.

Tonight, I googled "carry me Bible" hoping there was something in scripture that would lead me to a deeper understanding of what that phrase could mean.

What I found, floored me.

Isaiah 46:4
Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.

...I wept.  Jesus knows me so well.  He knows my fears.  He knows when I need a word of encouragement.

Life isn't over at 40, or 80.  It begins each morning.

- and each day we are carried and sustained...and sometimes rescued.

The email I forgot about writing

Shortly after obediently writing about the most heart rending part of my time in Kenya, I apparently wrote an email to Laura Story about her song "Blessings" - the one I kept on repeat for almost a month in the thick of a most difficult 'blessing'.

Here's what I wrote.  (My favorite part is at the very end.  In case you want to skip there, it's in bold print.  ...Brandon thinks that needs to be in a song.  I don't have a clue what that would look like, but I think I'm game.  Jesus makes some pretty neat things out of dust.  I can't wait to see what he makes out of a few guitar strings and a wobbly voice.
______________

I had a love hate relationship with Blessings when it came out.  On one hand it validated the suffering I was going through and spoke of a future and a hope.  On the other hand it was a daily reminder that I had to accept...and even embrace the deepest pain I've ever experienced.

Even though the melody is lilting, I won't sing the song lightly or readily.  I know how deep my suffering was, how stinging the raindrops were day after day after day.

It's taken 5 years for me to experience the redemption power in our Creator's ability and passion of creating beauty from ashes.

To me the song is a sober truth song, as sober as a beheading.

You see my husband (best friend / prayer partner / encourager / protector) lost his job  the week he turned 40.  That same week his grandfather  (hero / buddy) passed away.  Kip went into a depression that he thought only alcohol could provide relief & the abuse I suffered was hard to swallow.

We separated for 7 months during therapy and even moved back in together.  But the second honeymoon was short lived.  I actually hadn't known that he had started drinking.  The separation relaxed him because he no longer tried to hide it.  As we confronted the drinking in counseling it became clear that he was holding firm to his idol.  I was forced to leave home again.  But this time was different.  I didn't leave to save our marriage, I had to leave to save my life.

Even though he stalked me for months after I moved out, his rage turned back on himself. Within a year he was hospitalized after he was found unconscious after a drinking binge.

Kip remains in a nursing home.  He, like Nebuchadnezzar, has lost his mind.  He no longer drinks, but he no longer remembers that I even exist.  Alcohol's anesthesia and idolatry took his mind, our marriage, and my best friend.

It's been three years since I moved out.  I'm still healing physically from the beating he gave me the night I moved out.

But in my affliction, others are experiencing hope.

It's a strange beauty.  No fields of daisies to run through, but it looks good on me, and I am strong.

Thank you for being faithful to share your song.

_____________

Thanks Laura.  For both your song, and the opportunity to write out my story.

Thoughts while making Cinnamon Waffles (with Apple Butter!) this morning

(They aren't all for today's breakfast...honest.)

I love my thought trails sometimes...and sometimes even I marvel at the beautiful random that flows.  

This morning I made cinnamon waffles.  (#glutenfree)  Pamela is a hero to me.  

Disclaimer:  a few of my thoughts from earlier today are left out of this reenactment -simply because they pertain to the current state of my kitchen.  I'm only a little sorry for the absence of complete authenticity.  But I truly did waffle over whether or not to include them.  (did you see what I did there??) 

So I'll start after the first waffle is removed from the iron:

I'm so grateful for the friend who gave me this waffle iron.  I wish she could know how much joy it brings almost a dozen years later.  >>

What was her name???>>

...>>

(After many moments of reminiscing about the impact she had on my teaching...) How hilarious and totally Becca-like is it that I have no clue what her name is! >>

...>>

Wow.  Yeah.  I got nothing. :-)  >>

It must be really hard for someone with OCD to butter a waffle. >>

English Muffins are much easier to slather butter in one fail swoop.  It'll get into each nook and cranny. >>

I want my heart to be an open English muffin so that Jesus can ooze in each and every place. >>

(Remembering that sermon illustration about English Muffins from last year) I'm so grateful for my pastor/friend.  >>

Electric guitar amps really can be called "cute".  >>

Some relationships are like buttering waffles.  There are definite boundaries.  Buttering can still happen, but it takes painstaking work to get it in each well.  >>

I think butter is going to be my dairy group this morning. >>

Cold butter is easier to get equivalent measures into each of the waffle wells.  >>

Eggo knew what they were doing when they made their waffle makers more shallow.  >>

Introverts are a lot like waffles- deep and warm. >>

...but so are the wounded.  The waffle builds up walls when it encounters the heating trials of life and thinks "I must control the way I receive my butter.  It feels safer that way."  Lavishing butter on a wounded waffle with cold butter creates more wounds.  Softened butter is messier but inflicts no harm.  >>

This Apple butter is THE BOMB!  >>

(This is where I arrange the waffle still life and decide to blog while I enjoy my snowflake pajamas, this restful Saturday morning, and the peaceful solitude of my haven.) 

Messy relationships, like hot buttered waffles are SO worth it. >>

...even if you don't remember the name of your most influential mentor. 

😊

Jan 16, 2015 Romans 12:12 ...a song about being a true friend

When Songs Morph

...honest, it was a children's song based on Romans 12:12 about being a good friend.

I was just practicing ...and it 

changed.  

Like reallllly changed. 

My mind's eye was suddenly filled with sheep like teeth, stone tower necks and raisin cakes  (not the kind the housekeeper makes on Father Ted, though😜)

(Isn't this the BEST verse of Song of Solomon!?!)

I don't know what caused my thoughts to change direction. 

Maybe it was that yesterday my coworker's battery died; and her husband was soon there to rescue and fix what was broken.  I was so happy she had him.  

The last month or so has found me missing the covering and completing role my husband used to do so well. (...during the good years)

I had to spend the day on Saturday, on my own, handling the most expensive head lamp change in history ($600+!!!) Somehow I walked out with my bank account untouched and packing tape holding the headlight lens in place.  He would have known where to go, and the mechanic would have listened to him with respect.  

I've mourned the loss of the old (benevolent) Kip in so many other ways, too, while enduring the painful triggers of traumatic memories that seem to strengthen as November progresses, waning only when a whimsical groundhog crawls out of his protective hole.  

So there I was, guitar in hand, listening while I rehearsed....and feeling a knowing grow in my heart that there was more that needed to be said.

...and it was so clear that Romans 12:12 (and following), a song about how to be a good friend,  could also be a love song.

Three strands hold tight

Your heart to mine 

Covered in grace

Endless embrace

Joyful in hope

Patient in pain

Faithful in prayer

Knowing You're There (you care)

I'll go where you go

Stay by your side

We're in this together 

For worse or better

I'll cry when you cry

& smile when you smile

Loving each other in the 

Way of the Father