Happy Anniversary to my FBC Family

This quote was in our worship order yesterday:

Common belief identifies members of God’s family. And common affection unites them. Paul gives this relationship rule the church: “Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.” The apostle plays the wordsmith here, bookending the verse with fraternal-twin terms. He begins with philostorgos (philos means friendly; storgos means family love) and concludes with Philadelphia (phileo means tender affection; adelphia means brethren). An awkward but accurate translation of the verse might be “Have a friend/family devotion to each other in a friend/family sort of way.” If Paul doesn’t get us with the first adjective, he catches us with the second. In both he reminds us: the church is God’s family.

You didn’t pick me. I didn’t pick you. You may not like me. I may not like you. But since God picked and likes us both, we are family.”

--Max Lucado, Cure for the Common Life.

I already had this kind of thing on my mind before this showed up on my radar. I’ve been thinking about my family a lot lately. Mostly because today is the one year anniversary of the day my Dad took his leave of this world for heaven.

There are many days when there is nothing I want more than to join my Dad. No, I’m not suicidal. I just get tired of keeping up all the requirements necessary to survive and wish somebody else would do them for me for a while and let me coast for a day or two. It’s exhausting to be human, especially one who’s trying to live right on the straight and narrow. Right now Dad’s not worrying about stepping on the scale at the doctor’s office, or the cable bill, or what on earth to cook for dinner that will help me feel better about stepping on the doctor’s scale. I long for days like that when I won’t have to waste a single brain cell on any of those things.

While I no longer have my Dad, or anybody else to do the hard stuff for me, I do still have my family.

And while I still have a mother, a father-in-law, two sisters, one sister-in-law, three brothers-in-law, and several nieces and nephews here on this earth, you, First Baptist Church, are my family too.

I think sometimes my blood relatives don’t get that, that the church is my family.

Sometimes, FBC, I don’t think you understand fully either that YOU are family to me.

When we came to FBC we left everything behind to follow God’s leadership and come here to serve Him and you. We left friends, family, careers, and anything else you can think of. We were hesitant at first. We put the search committee off for six months because we just weren’t sure. But then, once we realized that if we wanted to do the will of God, we had no other choice. If we were going to leave the choice up to God, then this was it. We were all in. And we still are.

That was 15 years ago this week.

The children that were newborns at the time are in high school now. The kids that were in high school then have children of their own now.

On one of our first Sundays here, Scott sang with an accompaniment track. It was uncharted territory for you at the time. It was obvious because even though it was a split track and the demo voice should have been turned down, Scott ended up singing Somebody’s Prayin’ right along with Ricky Scaggs all the way through the song. Two new sound boards later, I think we’ve finally made it over that learning curve. This past Christmas we did a program that involved people from 16 different churches. All the music was on accompaniment tracks and we have DVD video recordings of it!

Not too many Sundays after that Ricky Scaggs sing along, Scott led the choir out of the choir loft and out front on the stage to sing I Will Sing Praises. There was hand-clapping to the beat of the music from the choir, and applause afterwards from the congregation. That made some of you uncomfortable. For some, it was a turning point that led you to go somewhere else to church.

The Beacons Quartet got together and southern gospel music made an emergence at FBC.

We added a projector and a screen to the sanctuary and media presentations in the services. Some of you still aren’t comfortable with that. That’s OK; for those of you who can’t put down the hymnal, we will still give you page numbers.

Every single summer we’ve been on an adventure together. We went on the Good News Stampede, up to Mt. Extreme, down to an Ocean Odyssey, we became Truth Trackers and Amazon Outfitters, investigated a Great Kingdom Caper, took a Rickshaw Rally and a Ramblin’ Road Trip, lived on the Arctic Edge, cheered at Game Day Central, made our way to Outrigger Island, went down under to Boomerang Express, and out west to the Saddle Ridge Ranch. Some of the VBS songs still ring in my head every now and then (“We are Truth Trackers, in search of answers...” Now I’m going to be humming that all day). We weren’t here for 2011 VBS because it was the same week as our 25th wedding anniversary. We are grateful and thankful that you allowed us that respite from VBS. That week changed our lives in more ways than you’ll ever know.

In 2000, we rang in the new millennium together. Remember when you heard the word “Y2K” every single day?

In 2002, you prayed us through an uncertain time and a craniotomy. Later that year, some of our choir members sang for Hollywood in the movie Radio. What a memorable Christmas season that was.

In 2005, you prayed us through another craniotomy. While Scott was home recuperating with a shaved and stapled head, you asked the pastor to leave. You asked a new one to lead you in 2006.

In 2009, um, well. It was one of the toughest years for me personally. A game changer.

In 2010 you asked us to leave. Then you changed your mind and told us not to leave.

In 2011 you buried your minister of education.

In 2012…who knows???

When we first came to FBC, trepid as we were, we thought we’d be lucky to stay 5 years. I have no explanation, except for GOD, as to how that has turned into 15. Looking back, it seems that it only got more difficult with every year, not easier. So, I can only assume that this next year will be no exception.

The one thing I know for sure is that God is faithful. How else could we have made it this long, this far? Maybe “this long” is not what or who you wanted. Maybe we wanted our “this far” to take us somewhere else. Whatever the case, we have made it this far and we are thankful. In these 15 years together, there have been successes and failures. We’ve been blessed by your faithfulness. We beg forgiveness and mercy for our shortcomings, and we offer it to you.

Because God chose you for us, we love you.

Because God picked us for you, we love you.

Because we love God, we love you.

We love you, First Baptist. Here me say it loud and clear. We love you and want what God wants for you.

From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’ Acts 17: 26-28

There are no words

Monday, September 13, 2010 Scott was called into a meeting where the stewardship committee chairman, the chairman and another representative from the personnel committee, the deacon chairman, and the pastor all sat around the conference table. Scott was not aware that this meeting was taking place until they called and asked him to come in.

At that meeting they informed Scott that due to budget constraints, his full time position as minister of music was being eliminated. He was given a sheet of paper that outlined 3 severance package details. The first of which stated that he could leave that very day and the church would provide him with one week’s pay for every year of service, which on that day would have been 13 years.

Let me say that again. He could have walked out that day. Monday, September 13, 2010.

They also gave him the option to stay until December 31, still collecting the one week’s pay for every year of service as severance. By then it would he would have reached 14 years of service.

The third detail in the severance options provided that if he secured another full time minister of music position before December 31 then he would only receive 2 week’s severance pay.

I was out of town that day. By the time I got a break in what I was doing and was able to call and check in, it was a little later in the morning. I had no idea any of this has taken place. Scott told me the news over the phone. He said that after the meeting he walked out of the office and down the hall to the choir room where he had been and still was sitting in darkness and silence. What do you say to your husband at a time like this?

There are no words.

Scott and I were very much aware of the budget difficulties. We knew something had to be done. We also knew the difficulties go way beyond just the budget woes. He and I both have been praying for 4 or 5 years, at least, for something to happen in our church; something big enough to stir the long-still waters. Losing his job was not exactly what we had been praying for, but almost instantaneously we saw it as perhaps clearing the way for that BIG thing, whatever it was, to come through. If this is how God was going to get through, then by all means, let us go. We started packing boxes immediately. I started giving things away that I didn’t want to have to move. Neither Scott nor I were totally devastated or depressed about the situation. We were just hopeful that something really grand was on the horizon for both us and for this church. How do you tell people you’re really at peace about losing your livelihood?

There are no words.

Being so ready and willing to accept what he’d been dealt and seeing it as the hand of God working in all of our lives, the most likely choice was for Scott to walk out that day, Monday, September 13, 2010. We were eager to get on with it.

However.

Back in the spring, months before any of this, Scott picked out a musical to do for Christmas. His vision was to invite as many different church choirs and individuals to join us as we could. His vision went beyond our little choir to the entire community. By the time September 13 arrived, we had already had 2 rehearsals for this musical. We were already overwhelmed by the number of people that showed up for those rehearsals, from all aspects of our community.

Scott was committed. He was committed to this event long before he ever bought the first piece of music for it. The first rehearsal back in August solidified it for him. The second one only made his commitment stronger and deeper. It was the only thing that kept him from walking away on September 13. The ONLY thing. And I will say it one more time: He could have left that day. But he wanted to see this thing through, regardless of his job. He found himself in the middle of something that was so much bigger than he and his own vision and he couldn’t let go even if he tried. How do you tell the employer that just laid you off, “well, thanks, but I think I’ll stick around for a while anyway”?

There are no words.

Since then Scott’s whole job situation has been revamped, thanks to some other church members who had visions of their own. Scott’s job has been reinstated, but with a 10% pay cut. There are two other ministers whose jobs and salaries have also been affected too, but I can’t speak for them or their stories. And really, all of that is a separate story in and of itself which maybe one day I’ll tackle. Or not. But today my focus here is the musical.

With all that has happened since this whole thing started, we have prayed diligently for this musical event. I continued to pray, as I have for the last 5 years, for something incredible to happen in this church and acknowledged that this event was a wonderful opportunity for that to happen. Specifically, I prayed that the building would be full of people to hear the message, no empty seats, and that all the other space would be taken up by the Holy Spirit, that there would be absolutely no room whatsoever left for satan to find his way in. Scott prayed for chairs. He specifically asked for the need to put out folding chairs because of the overflow crowd. He said it out loud several times over the last couple of months.

While I don’t think anyone really knows for sure, our sanctuary seats approximately 450+. Our average Sunday morning attendance is about 140.

The presentation of this musical was this past Friday night, December 3. It was set to begin at 7 p.m.

Here’s the scene at about 6:40 p.m.

Chairs, y’all. There are chairs. Some didn’t even have chairs and had to stand throughout the whole thing.

Even before the music started, something besides people began to fill up the sanctuary. As the program began it was almost as if what was going on inside the building was bigger than what the walls themselves could contain. The Holy Spirit did indeed fill the room. It’s just so hard to explain the presence…

Afterwards, the comment I heard over and over again from those who were there… “There are no words.”

Ironic, I think, that the title of the musical was “The Voices of Christmas.” There are no words for the Voices of Christmas. The thing that happened and the praises that were raised were in a language only God could understand.

Afterwards, the crowd went home, the furniture was moved back in place, the trash picked up, and the sanctuary set in order for Sunday morning. We went to get something to eat then headed home. I would have thought Scott would have been on top of the world after all this. Instead, he seemed more quiet and distant and unreadable. He had no words.

The next day I woke and got out of bed long before Scott. I went to the other end of the house to work on a project on the computer. A couple of hours later I came back towards our bedroom and saw Scott sitting on the vanity stool in our bathroom. He was just sitting there in the quiet looking at the floor. The closer I got to him, the more I realized his eyes were filled with tears.

I think in that moment we both realized the enormity of what God had done. That Scott was not capable of or responsible for whatever it was that happened with the Voices of Christmas. That in spite of his inadequacies, God used him anyway. That his faith in leaving the unknown up to God in not giving it up on September 13 resulted in a greater blessing for 500+ other people.

It was just too much; there are no words.

I suddenly understood what Isaiah meant when he said “Woe to me! I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.”

We saw the King, the Lord Almighty, fill our sanctuary Friday night and it ruined my husband. Ruined him because he will never be the same. And there are no sweeter words than that.

“Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.” Isaiah 6:3

Sunglasses and a Savior

I think I’m a little late with the spring fever. I’m always the last one to fall into the latest trends.

(I heard somewhere that oversized sunglasses are in? Is that true? I'm just not sure I can go there yet.)

I think it is spring fever because I seem to have lost my motivation for anything. ANYTHING.

So, I’m making a list. Maybe if I document at least the passing thoughts through my brain, then maybe I can then check some of it off and feel like I’ve accomplished something.

My list is of things that have been on my mind that are truly post-worthy, but I haven’t been able to finish one single post. I’ve started several hundred of them. “Started” is the key word. Apparently “finish” has dropped out of my vocabulary lately. Along with the words “diet” and “exercise”. Oh, and “work.”

My list is a reminder to me that if I ever do get back to my regular posting and don’t have anything to talk about, well, here’s a place to start.

But who am I kidding? By the time I get back around to anything I’ve started and not finished, the beginning of a hundred other things will have taken their place.

And so it goes.

My list of totally unrelated things to which I should have dedicated entire individual blog posts:

1. So, I have a new car. It was truly an ordeal. It took about a month to actually get it to my driveway. I haven’t quite found the balance between the joy of a brand new car and the sickness of car payments. Does anybody ever feel like they got a good deal on a car? Really? I mean, people who sell cars do it all day every day. I buy a car once every five or six years, if that. How can I win with those odds? Anyway, we simply HAD to buy a new car because I couldn’t keep buying new sunglasses every week. It seems on two separate occasions with two different pairs of sunglasses, I left them in cars we test drove. So, two lucky new car owners got a free pair with their new car purchase. Now that’s a deal.

2. One day when I’ve lost all my inhibitions I’m going to write a book about all things your minister will never tell you. There are lots of sub-topics under this one, but lately I’ve been thinking about weddings. ONE: never, ever schedule a church wedding in December. Yes, the holiday decorations make lovely pictures, but the sanctuary is already booked every Saturday in December for all the extra choir rehearsals and programs. If you want the minister to focus solely on your special day, do it during a season when nothing else is going on. June is good. TWO: You pay the band for making music at the reception, why not pay the guy who sings the sweet love song during the ceremony? Unless, of course, the guy singing the sweet love song is the groom, then paying him would be weird. THREE: Pick up after yourselves. Or at least ask your mom and dad do it for you after you’ve gone on your way to honeymoon paradise. For the rest of us, coming to church on Sunday after a Saturday night wedding and finding dress hangers, empty panty hose packages, pins, flower petals, and cans of hairspray sitting in your Sunday School class seat or in your choir chair is a little unnerving sometimes because it leads the mind to think of people changing clothes (and thus, in their underwear) right here in the very place I’m trying to, well, not think of people in their underwear.

3. What on earth have I have I got to complain about? I have a friend my age that’s been fighting cancer for several years and the battle is getting harder every day now. I have another friend my age that fought a seizure demon and had several years of victory, only to have it seize her again. I have a friend I went to college with whose wife has been on a respirator. These are people in their 40’s. I have younger cousin whose Air Force soldier husband was just sent to Iraq for six months. I can’t even keep track of how many times he’s already been over there. She’s home with her 2 girls.

Did anybody see the Life Today program a few weeks ago where Beth Moore was talking about being in a doctor’s office waiting room anticipating an appointment where she would get some test results? One of her daughters was with her and passed the time by reading all the medical brochures in the waiting room. You know, the ones that inform you of all the different kinds of cancer and diseases. Her words were, “He knows it’s scary to be us.”

Indeed, He does.

Stress over things like losing my sunglasses to making car payments.

Frustrations of being married to a minister.

People all around me who have a special need for comfort and care and healing.

God knows it’s scary to face all those things. And He doesn’t want us to face them alone.

All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us. We have plenty of hard times that come from following the Messiah, but no more so than the good times of his healing comfort—we get a full measure of that, too. 2 Corinthians 1:3-5 The Message

Intentional Intentions

I've been intending to write this post since the weekend after Thanksgiving. That's at least how long I've been thinking about it. (I'm still trying to find my rhythm again, but working on it).

I intend to do a lot of things that I never get around to doing.

And you know what they say... the road to you-know-where is paved with lots of good intentions.

Then there are things that I do that have nothing to do with original intentions.

Like this, for example.
This is one of my precious Fiesta tumblers. The intention of its creation was to hold a fruity, breakfast beverage. I put pens and pencils in it.

There are other pieces in my Fiesta collection that also don't get used for the purpose they were intended. Like my pitchers. I couldn't find any pictures of my own pitchers (OK, I didn't really look very hard), but a quick Google image search tells me there are others who also misuse their pitchers.
Fiesta pitchers make very lovely vases. I think I've used my Fiesta pitchers as vases more often than I've used them for liquids. The only thing I really ever use a pitcher for is iced tea, and if you're going to make tea you need to make at least a gallon and Fiesta pitchers are just too small for that. So, in my house they hold flowers.

I looked around my computer desk and found a couple of other unintended things.


I've already admitted that I have a issue with pens (you can read about it here). That's another story. Today it's about the cups. And the pitchers. And all the other things not serving their original purpose because I've filled them up with something else. I fill them up and call it creativity and resourcefulness.

Like I said, I've been thinking about these intentions since the weekend after Thanksgiving. That's when we decorated our church sanctuary for Christmas. The people in charge of decorating the sanctuary for Christmas really take it seriously and it always turns out lovely.

The building structure is very traditional Baptist architecture built in the middle of the historical district of an Old South rural town. That's a blessing and a curse. It's a rectangular sanctuary with tall ceilings and large stained glass windows. There are wooden pews with dark red velvety cushions. The pews are in three sections with the center section being the widest. No center aisle. Up front on the altar/stage/I-never-know-what-to-call it section there is white, heavy, wooden pulpit furniture. There's a huge proscenium arch, behind which is a cove that houses a cranky, old pipe organ and some more wooden pews for the choir. Behind the choir pews and elevated above everything else is another recess - -the baptistry (spellcheck wants to make that baptistery, but that just doesn't look right to me).

The baptistry has tall, white, wooden doors. I'm not sure why. To keep people out? To keep people in? Well, back to that in a minute...

Here's a visual peak just to get some perspective. That's Rhonda back there standing behind the tree (and she's not a short person), just so you can see how large that evergreen is.


Now. Here's where the pens in the cups and tumblers come in. And the creativity and resourcefulness. I present to you, The Baptistry.

We close those doors, hang a 10 lb. wreath on them, cover the ledge with red, satiny cloth and holiday poinsettias. It's beautiful. And well done. That's the real thing too, no tacky plastic here. It's creative. And resourceful.

And not at all what it was intended for.

That's the part that makes my heart hurt.

We truly have paved the road to hell and shut the door to heaven with our good intentions and filled it up with our own creative and resourceful purposes. Those doors should be open. It should be filled with water. The water should be warm from the frequent use and cloudy from all the sins that have been washed away.

"For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost." (Luke 19:10).

That is Christmas.

But Joseph said to them, "Don't be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. Genesis 50:19-20

Kentucky wild Catts

I didn't go to church yesterday, which is unusual. I'm always at church. Scott and I spent the day traveling instead. We traveled through four states and this is where I woke up this morning:

Scott said this picture was appropriate with me in it because of the slogan and/or web address. Is he saying I'm wild? I think he meant that as a compliment. ;-)

Anyhoo....

So, back to the church thing. Like I said. I'm always there. Except for yesterday. And even though it is one of the most consistent things I do always and forever, I did not miss it one single bit yesterday. I was even a little giddy as we drove past church after church with cars in the parking lot, thinking to myself "nanny nanny boo boo, y'all are at church and I'm not!"

I think that's a good sign that it was time to take a break from it.

But I made up for it today.

I heard several wonderful men of God speak today. One of them was Michael Catt. He's the pastor of Sherwood Baptist Church in Albany, Georgia. They are the ones that made the Fireproof movie (and Facing the Giants and Flywheel).

Oh, oh, oh, what a message.

Here are some highlights:

• Everybody either knows Christ or needs Christ

• Carnal people won't care about lost people. Only spirit filled people will care about lost people

• There is a difference between being just welcomed and truly wanted

• If you're slinging mud, you're losing ground

• A great problem in our churches today is the presence of an absence - the absence of the Holy Spirit.

• Whatever your choice is regarding living in the spirit or not, either way there are consequences.

Wow. He said more in that 30 minute message than I've heard in several months of Sundays. Made me glad I came all this way to hear it.

I'm not going to want to go home.

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope when you were called—one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. Ephesians 4:1-6

I've been expecting you - - or not

A lot of years ago I had a young friend who was struggling in a young marriage. I wasn’t that much older than she or that much more experienced at the time, but I did offer her one piece of wisdom I had already struggled over and come to terms with myself.

She expected her husband and her marriage to be a certain way, and neither was living up to it. I told her to eliminate her expectations. Not lower them; forget them. Put away the measuring stick for a while. If you are not measuring to see how someone or something compares to your personal standard, then the likelihood of disappointment is decreased.

If you constantly compare something/someone with where it actually is to where you think it should be, all you will ever see is the gap in between. Sometimes it helps to just see things and people as they really are without any surrounding, calculating comparisons. Try to see them like God sees them.

Now I know that God looks at all of us and sees the potential of who we could be. I also believe that we should do that with each other. Where I think we get into trouble is when we start assigning markers to the steps of someone else’s potential. Like saying, “isn’t he old enough to know better?” Or, “doesn’t she know she shouldn’t be doing that?”(And, for the record, I’m talking about adults here. Not children.)

When we set those markers, we’ve imposed our expectations on them. It’s one thing to want and hope and pray that things and people will turn out to be what we want them to be. It’s a completely different animal when we transfer the sole responsibility of living up to our expectations on to them and then punish them when they don’t.

Last time I checked, the convicting and refining work of the Holy Spirit was not my job.

So, why am I thinking about all of this?

Recently I was told by someone that I didn’t live up to the expectations and standards they had for me. It was not in my marriage. It was at church. I was shocked by the confrontation. It was…unexpected. I had no idea that such standards had been placed on me.

My reaction? Of course I was hurt. I thought I was striving to lead a Godly life. I regretted that anything I said or did unintentionally caused someone else to become so angry and confrontational. Honestly, it felt more like they were disapproving of who I was rather than of anything I had said or done. I felt unjustly condemned.

Then, I began to think…the one who confronted me should not have handled it in the way that he did. I thought about all the different ways that whole situation should have been approached. Someone in his position should have taken into consideration…

Ahhhh, there it is. He’s not living up to my expectations either.

So.

I’m throwing out my measuring stick. The gap is gone. My expectations are gone. I’m looking to see more clearly what God sees.

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Matthew 7:1-2

The application of appreciation

Appreciation.

It’s an interesting thing.

I think on some level I want it. At least I think I want it.

At work, the appreciation I crave in response to the efforts I put forth comes mostly in the form of “show me the money.” If I do a good job, I don’t need my boss or anyone else to tell me so. Just give me a raise. Or a bonus.

At church, which is the other major occupier of my life, I certainly don’t expect to get paid for anything I do. Here again, I don’t need anyone to tell me how wonderful I am or to tell me how much they love what I’ve done. Words of affirmation are definitely not my love language. I just don’t need you to tell me how wonderful I am.

Actually, if you do tell me, it makes me uncomfortable.

So why do I those things? This is where it gets complicated for me.

Do I do things merely out of obligation? Well, at work, yes, much of it is an obligation. I was contracted for certain tasks when I agreed to take the job. There are a lot of things I do that go beyond my job description. That’s my integrity and my hope for the future. Surely that extra effort will pay off somewhere down the road either in a new pay grade or a new position.

On the church side, do I still do things out of obligation or do I have another more sincere motive?

Most of what I volunteer for at church, I do because I want to serve God. It gives me joy to do them regardless of what anyone else thinks. There are some things at church, however, that I just don’t feel like doing but I believe that doing them is the right thing to do. I know that loving people and serving them is what God has commanded me to do. I don’t always feel like doing that, but I know that I have to keep going through the motions until the feeling part follows. And it almost always does.

The contrary is also true. The feeling of love and appreciation usually never comes if I haven’t already been trying to get through the” doing” part of it.

Even more confusing for me is how other people love and serve me. Just how DO I want people to appreciate me?

I say that I don’t really want other people’s appreciation of me if it is not sincere. If you can’t really appreciate me or the things that I’ve done, then I certainly don’t want you to lie to me and tell me you love me or that you’re thankful for what I do. I don’t want you buying me gifts that are completely wrong for me just because it’s a special gift-giving occasion. If you really knew me enough to honestly love and appreciate me you would know that I do not like that color or that I already have three of those. It doesn’t really matter if it’s words or gifts; if they don’t personally fit me, I just don’t want them.

Yes, there are people out there who can’t appreciate who I am or the things that I do. Imagine that.

And, yes (especially since I live in the Old South), there are people who carry on the pretentious effort of keeping up appearances. Appalling, I know.

So that business about going through the motions until the true love and appreciation catches up, does that not apply to these folks too? Do I allow them the courtesy of going through the motions until the true emotions of love and appreciation emerge?

Well, if I don’t want to be hypocritical, then I guess I have to, don’t I??

What makes me sad is that perhaps I haven’t loved or served these people as much as I should have. I haven’t been the example to them that would teach them how to truly love and appreciate others. If I were a better friend to them, then they would be too.

I guess that makes me guilty one. I think they might be able to appreciate that.

Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen. 1 Peter 4:9-11

The twelfth of never

When we first moved to this little, rural, inconvenient town our thoughts were that we would be doing good if we could stay here five years. After that period of time, we imagined we would be at a good point in our lives age-wise and career-experience wise to then move on to our long term goal of the bigger and better place where we wanted to spend the rest of our lives. We saw this place as the means to that end. A not-so-attractive-but-necessary step to somewhere else. Dues, I guess you could call it.

Plus, these days and for the job my husband has, five years is about the average length to stay in one location. Eight or nine years is exceptional. He’s a minister in a Baptist church.

Yesterday marked his twelfth anniversary here.

Wow. Twelve years. Have we really been here that long?!

How significant is twelve?

Well, there are twelve days of Christmas.

Doughnuts come in dozens. Scott likes doughnuts.

Eggs come in cartons of twelve. Scott likes eggs too, especially when they’re used to make cakes and assorted baked goods. (do you need eggs to make doughnuts?).

The number is used fairly often in the Bible too:

12 sons

12 stones

12 brothers

12 pillars

12 springs of water

12 tribes

12 disciples

12 years of bleeding

12 baskets of food leftovers

Just to name a few. There are more references to 12 cubits, 12 thrones, 12 stars, 12 angels; it goes on and on.

I’m not sure what it means that we have managed to out-last our plans for ths place. Some days I’ve felt the stones and the bleeding. Some days have brought bountiful leftovers and life flowing like cool springs of water. None of it was planned, at least not by us anyway.

God brought us here. He’s the one that has kept us here too. We certainly couldn’t and wouldn’t have done it on our own. So, I’m not really making any more plans conerning the next twelve years. I’m leaving that up to God. I’ll stay until He says go. We are, after all, less than an hour from the nearest Dunkin Donuts. A dozen of those every now and then will help sweeten the wait. I don't think there will be twelve basketfuls leftover, though.

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

OK, OK, I’m listening now!

For several months now I’ve been grieving and agonizing over a certain cluster of related painful circumstances and situations. The reason it has been so heartbreaking for me is because I have no earthly idea what to do to help the situation or any of the people involved.

So, for a while now I’ve been praying for a miracle. A specific one, sort of. Specific not in the WHAT or the HOW, but specific in WHO the miracle will touch. And I include myself in the WHO. I have figured out that if I want to ask God to change someone else’s life, I need to be willing to include myself in that request too.

Well, God’s been speaking to me in the last 24 hours. He’s been using the voices of men and women who live around me.

How do I know it came from God?

Because they all said the same thing.

Before Sunday School yesterday, my friend Pat and I shared a personal conversation about something that is near and dear to both of us. Her last words as she walked away were, “I’m praying for a miracle.”

I walked on to my class where Colleen came in and sat next to me. I don’t know her very well, but what I do know is that we have a few very important things in common even though our lives are very different. We had a brief heart-felt conversation that ended with her saying she too was praying for a miracle. Hmmmm.

Later when Scott and I went out for lunch we ran into John who said he had been wanting to talk to us about something important to him. After we spent 45 minutes or so listening and sharing, can you guess? He’s praying for a miracle too.

A senior adult grandmother, a young adult mother, and a middle aged father. Three different situations and perspectives. That day, one common denominator in all of those lives was me.

It’s not my definitive answer for a miracle yet, but I think it wildly affirms that the Holy Spirit is working all around me. It sounds like He agrees about the need for a miracle around here. His answer is Yes.

Scary part is, as one common denominator, what does that mean for me? How does He want me involved? What will I have to do? What will it cost me? Those aren’t really yes or no questions.

Still, my answer will be Yes.

For no matter how many promises God has made, they are "Yes" in Christ. And so through him the "Amen" is spoken by us to the glory of God. 2 Corinthians 1:20

c - h - U - R - c - h

We’re getting ready for Vacation Bible School next week. The majority of our preparation time includes weeks of basically dreading it. Once we get into it and get involved with all the kids, it always turns out to be fun. The kids have a way of helping you believe it really is a summer vacation kind of week. God bless those children.

It’s just knowing ahead of time how totally exhausted you’re going to be by the end of the week that causes all the dread beforehand. All that singing and hand motions and dance steps and repeating them over and over and over - - I grow weary just thinking about it.

VBS was something I always enjoyed as a little girl. It was a big event at our small church. If I looked through some of the boxes in the attic I would probably find some of those crafts I made all those years ago. VBS is one of the happy memories of my young church-going life.

I have a lot of church memories because I have always loved going to church. Even when I became a teenager and it wasn’t so ‘cool’ anymore, I still went. There were a lot of Wednesday nights when I was the only young person there. Still, I enjoyed it. I don’t think my teenage friends understood my affection for it back then. Honestly, I don’t think I understood it either.

I feel certain that some of my getting-older-every-day-friends today still don’t understand it. I think they probably see my devotion to it as a byproduct of being married to a minister. Truth is, I loved church long before I got a husband. I think my love for church is why God allowed a minister fall in love with me.

I know a building isn’t a church. I believe it is the people who are the church. Still, I think I’ve always loved it when the people who ARE the church, meet together in a building that we CALL the church.

I know you can DO church anywhere. I know you can BE the church anywhere (at home, the ball field, the beach, etc.) and let’s hope that we are actually doing that. But how many of those “anywhere” places do we go to with the purpose and highest priority being to worship and praise our God? Usually we go with our main goal being something like resting or playing or swimming or being with other people or just getting away from it all. We can look for things to praise God for while all the other is going on, but then the worship becomes secondary. All those are good things, but I think it’s important to have a place where believer’s can get together for the sole purpose and priority of worshipping God.

Just over eleven years ago, we moved here when my husband accepted the position as Minister of Music at First Baptist Church. At first, we both resisted the invitation for him to consider the position. There was absolutely nothing in the world to draw us here.

We had no friends or family here or anywhere nearby. There was no job for me, much less any career option, where I could use what I had been trained and educated to do. We didn’t even have a fondness for this part of the country.

There was no allure. Except the call of God.

Yes, we had a choice, and like I said, we resisted at first. Eventually we saw that if we truly wanted to follow His leading, anything else really was not an option.

I left everything I knew and loved and was good at to come to a place where some people still don’t know my name, even after 11 years. I traded everything I had for the precious freedom of being in His will of serving and ministering in this church. I have no regrets.

I do not need any acknowledgment or recognition for any sacrifice of what WAS my former life. I do, however, want my life and actions to be an indicator of just how much I love this church. I want to see it follow hard after Jesus. I want to see the Holy Spirit move in it like He never has before. I want to see the Lord God Almighty praised loud and clear.

There is no one who cares more about seeing this church grow and flourish than me.

Well, maybe there is one. The One. The One and Only.

I pray often to be made more like Jesus and I think I’m beginning to finally seen a tiny resemblance. I can only pray that others can see it too.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. Revelation 21:1-3