Category Archives: Sacred Mundane

As promised, I’m posting here my manuscripted notes for you ladies from Calvary Temple who wish to have them. It’s a little embarassing to post a manuscript because you’ll be able to see that I really do plan out everything ahead of time … Thank you, ladies for such a wonderful weekend!  Enjoy reading and I’d love to hear from you!

Kari

PS for those of you wanting to read When God Broke My Heart and The Road to Santa Clara, they are to the right under “Featured” …

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NIGHT 1 

I thought we’d start off with a bit of confession—my confession, and I have to get this off my chest because otherwise I feel like I’m misleading you.  I’ve never really liked women’s retreats or what I call typical women’s ministry. I always felt like I didn’t fit in with the women’s ministry crowd.   Now I’m sharing this in sort of a joking way, but the reality of it was that I needed to deeply repent.  I have a voracious appetite for reading—but in my opinion I had no need for what I called “pink books.”  Pink books usually had flowers on the cover or a picture of a woman wearing a long dress sitting in a field or something.  I wanted the real stuff, AW Tozer and Andrew Murray and CS Lewis.  None of this women’s stuff.  I avoided women’s events—I was into theology and wanted to study the Word, and so women’s events centered around eating dessert or shopping didn’t sound like a good time.   I tried scrapbooking, really tried it – cause they always had scrapbooking nights where the ladies got together … and I just wasn’t any good at it. 
So everytime I tried to do the “women’s ministry thing” All I could see were differences—I didn’t like shopping, I didn’t eat pastries, I never watch TV (I don’t even own one!), and I never paint my nails.  If I had a spare $20 I would NOT spend it on a pedicure I’d probably spend it on a book.  The other thing that always plagued me was this fear that at the women’s retreat I’d be expected to have a spontaneous three hour heart-to-heart talk in the wee hours of the night with whoever my bunkmate happened to be, usually a stranger.  That didn’t sound like fun either.  So, in my mind there wasn’t really any reason to be involved.

Now this extended to seminary as well.  I wanted to get a Master’s of divinity.  For those of you unfamiliar with seminary, an Mdiv is the real degree. It’s the man’s degree. And it’s the degree that my husband’s getting. It also takes 3 full years if that’s all you do and you have no family or job.  I have both.  So after surprise(!) getting pregnant with our son, I took some time off and reevaluated my direction, and after much prayer discerned that God was leading me to get an Master’s in , what else, Women’s Ministry. Ha!  That was funny. And it was the best decision ever.  I remember my first woman professor saying, Just because we’re women doesn’t mean we have to dumb down this stuff!  And then my next woman professor actually said that we don’t HAVE to eat scones at every women’s event!  Really?!  So I learned that just because we’re women doesn’t mean that everything has to be pink and that I have to learn to sew and arrange flowers.  Now please don’t get me wrong—those things are wonderful.  I love to do many traditionally feminine things—I love to cook, I love nutrition and fitness, I also love to eat cookie dough, I love basking in the sun for hours on end…there are plenty of things I love that are thoroughly feminine.  But I guess what had to go was the assumption that to be woman meant to be shallow.  And what I discovered in my MA in women’s ministry is that women are anything but shallow.  Mysterious, amazing, clever, difficult, competitive, complex, desirous, vicious, funny, kind, and powerful.  Not shallow. So as long as I looked at the surface things, I’d be fed up with women’s events. But when I learned to look past, to see past the stuff, past the masks, past the stereotypes, I began to see how beautiful women are, and my heart began to ache with a desire to love and minister to women, to help them unveil their true selves to live for the glory of God.  So here I am.  There’s my confession.  Fair enough?

So, our topic for this weekend is Intimacy and Tapestry.  Our focus here is two-fold: Intimacy with God, which produces intimacy with each other.  As we experience intimacy with each other a Tapestry of relationships is formed, a community of inter-connected lives that form a  beautiful work of art for the glory of God.  If I were to sum up these two words it would be unity.  But that word is loaded with a million different meanings and connotations, so stick with me as we seek to understand what it means for us here.  Before we begin, let’s define what we’re talking about when we talk about Tapestry.  Supernatural tapestry is the weaving together of sanctified lives for the glory of God.  Since I didn’t know much about Tapestry I went to my friend Wikipedia and did some research.  In cloth tapestry, as I’m sure you know, thousands of threads are woven, artistically to create a beautiful design or picture or some other work of art.  And the two key characteristics are: beauty and durability.  And that is our goal—that our lives would be woven together in such a way that God would create a beautiful and durable work of art, on display for the world to see.  

If you’re anything like me, you kind of like to know where you’re going.  Maybe it’s my control-freakness, but I like to have some idea where I’m being led.  So tonight we’re going to be talking about our vertical relationship.   Tomorrow night we’ll be talking about horizontal relationships. Tonight: We belong to God.  Tomorrow: We belong to each other. Tonight: the first P.  Tomorrow: the other 3 Ps.  Finally, I want you to know that everything we talk about here will be posted on my blog. I’ll even post the manuscript of both nights’ talks, so if you miss a point or want to revisit something you can always go there and find the notes.  Karipatterson.com. I have cards over there—with my info on them just in case you want to talk, or visit the blog or email me or discuss something further, you can always contact me.  

So our text for the weekend is Philippians 2:1-4.  Let’s read our entire passage together: 1 Therefore if there is any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and mercy, 2 fulfill my joy by being like-minded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind. 3 Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself. 4 Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others.

Four verses.  Just four verses.  Now first, we need to check out the first word:  Therefore.  Now as I’m sure you know, when we see the word “therefore”, we need to ask what’s the “therefore” there for?  So let’s look at the context. The immediate context is in chapter 1:29-30 “For to you it has been granted on behalf of Christ, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake, having the same conflict which you saw in me and now hear is in me.”  So the context is what?  Suffering.  Now, when I sat down with Debby and with Liz, this is what they told me about you guys—they said you were a solid, Bible loving, Christ adoring group of women who were truly consumed with wanting to live for Christ.  Wow.  I thought—what a group!  Why do they want me to come and mess that up?  So this passage is really perfect for you, because the church at Philippi was a fabulous church.  Paul loved these people.  They brought Paul so much joy, the same way that you all bring so much joy to Debby and Liz.  And in a group that is seriously striving to seek God, what is the one thing that we know is present?  2 Timothy 3:12 tells us:  All who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution.  Suffering.  Now, our context is very different from theirs because we don’t suffer religious persecution.  We don’t have to hide or meet in secret.  But just because we live in America doesn’t mean we don’t suffer.  And I’m not so young and naïve to think that I’m looking out at a group of women who aren’t suffering …

And you may have suffering going on that no one even knows about.  The women in the car with you on the ride over don’t know about.  The women you’re sharing a room with don’t know about.  The one sitting next to you doesn’t know about.  And you may not call it suffering, but it wars in your soul.  Maybe it’s a wayward child.  Maybe it’s cancer – affecting you or a loved one.  Maybe it’s your marriage.  Maybe it’s broken dreams, disappointments, physical sickness.  Maybe you’re waiting on God and all you’re getting is silence.  Maybe as you lie in bed at night a heaviness just weighs on you. 

What Paul is saying is that because suffering is inevitable.  And, because we know that we have been granted to suffer for His sake, unity, or the weaving together of our lives for His sake, is absolutely critical.  A strand will break, right?  But a three-cord strand is not easily broken.  Try ripping a thick tapestry with your bare hands?  Not going to happen.  We must be unified, woven together, into a rich strong tapestry for the glory of God.  That is where we find our strength.

Now, we know that suffering can make us withdraw, isolate, and pull away from others,  OR, as we’ll see during our weekend, we can let it pull us together into this tapestry.  And, I’ll let you in on a secret—the world is watching to see what we will do.  Paul knew this.  When he and Silas were in prison, they were singing hymns and praising God, and what?  The prisoners were listening, and the jailer asked, “What must I do to be saved?”   And how we respond to this suffering will determine how effective our Christian witness is.  Love and unity within the body of Christ is the greatest evangelistic tool that we have.    The number one thing that destroys ministries and keeps people from coming to Christ is backbiting, slander, gossip, conflict—in a word: disunity.  And this isolation and disunity prevents us from being woven together into a beautiful testimony of the grace of God.  Do you want to increase your evangelistic efforts to women in Portland?  Weave.  Weave your lives together in love and unity and your beautiful and durable tapestry will be on display for the world to see.  This is exactly what Paul is saying in the context of this verse as well. Let’s look again at the context, a little further back this time.  Verse 27-28 reads:  27 Only let your conduct be worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of your affairs, that you stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel, 28 and not in any way terrified by your adversaries, which is to them a proof of perdition, but to you of salvation,[a] and that from God.  Study Bible notes.  When we band together, in intimacy and tapestry, a watching world sees the power of God and truth of the Gospel.  That is more powerful than any tract.  That is what makes the world say, I want what they have.

So, we know two things from the context:  We all suffer and how we respond to it corporately will determine the effectiveness of our Christian witness.  Everything is at stake. 
So now that we know the context, let’s look back at our passage:  1 Therefore if there is any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and mercy, 2 fulfill my joy by being like-minded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind. 3 Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself. 4 Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others.

So this passage gives us 4 verses, and 4 keys to creating this beautiful tapestry of interwoven lives.  And for those of you who like neatly packaged lessons, alliteration, or things that you can repeat to others, these 4 things will start with Ps.

We begin (of course!) with the source of all things—our Lord God.  As this passage heads toward the goal—intimacy and tapestry, Paul begins with God.  Let’s read verse one again: 1 Therefore if there is any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and mercy.  Here in verse one, we see the Premise for intimacy and tapestry.  That’s the first P!  A Premise is something on which a line of argument or way of thinking is established.  Here is the key:  If this is all you remember this whole weekend, remember this:  We belong to God, and therefore belong to each other.  The premise of this intimacy and tapestry is an understanding that we belong to God. 

I just want to ask you guys some questions.  How many of you have ever felt in your life like you don’t belong?  (Actually let them respond) I remember in middle school feeling like I didn’t belong.  They all had real keds and I only had fake keds so I didn’t have the little blue squares.  I was plagued by that!  I was almost tempted to just color on little blue squares but then I knew someone would look close and know what I’d done and make fun of me even more.  And I didn’t have a real Esprit bag.  I had a Gitano bag, which was definitely not as cool.  You might think that that old fear of not belonging disappeared with your adolescent acne, but chances are it didn’t.  Strangely enough, adulthood can bring even more intense feelings of not belonging.  Singleness can bring feelings of not belonging.  One of my best friends and roommate for several years was a single woman who struggled often with not knowing where she fit. On the one hand, she felt far too old to be attending college ministry activities, but she wasn’t a young married, but somehow didn’t quite fit into the singles ministry either.  She felt too old to be “under” the authority of her dad, but didn’t have a husband, and so was in this precarious position of not knowing how to belong.  The same is true of a teen mom or a single mom. Where does she fit?  Probably not the youth group but she’s not a young married.  On the other hand childless adults can feel as if they don’t belong.  The rest of the married people are exchanging stories about late night feeds or first days of school, while they exchange awkward glances and nod with a pleasant smile.  Older people feel like they don’t belong with the younger people.  Younger people feel like they don’t belong with the older people.  And even motherhood can make you feel like you don’t belong—all of a sudden I had to be home for naptime and was exhausted by 8pm and couldn’t leave home without a suitcase full of diapers and wipes while my friends were rushing by me. 

Whatever our life situation, and whether you’re the pastor’s wife or the Women’s ministry director.  Whatever our life situation, we can walk around with this haunting feeling that we don’t belong.  Now some of you might be saying, “I totally belong!  I have great friends, I’m involved in ministry, I’ve got my niche, my thing. It might be the prayer ministry or overseeing the nursery or answering phones, or whatever it is, but that’s my thing, and I have found a place where I belong.” That’s awesome.  But just for a second, let’s take all that away. Let’s take away your small group, your ministry, your position in life, your job.  Let’s insert tragedy, death, or just a major move.  A dear man in our Bible study just recently died suddenly.  All of a sudden his wife is evaluating—where do I belong?  She’d devoted all of her time to taking care of him (he had a heart condition), and now she had an empty house and an empty schedule.  Where should I serve?  What is my identity?  Where do you belong now?  Setting aside all the externals.  Just you.  Where do you truly belong?  Or more accurately, to whom do you belong?  You know the answer:  God.  Of course.  God is always the right answer, right?  But what does that mean and how does it play out in my life?
I’ve never experienced this so must as I have this year—this sense of not belonging.  This summer, when we were still new to the area and new to our church, Jeff was involved with the leadership because of his internship, and was already meeting with staff and developing relationships.  I was primarily at home, out in the wilderness (or so it felt) and severed from friendships in our previous hometown.  During the Fall Kick-Off service, we filled the bleachers at the high school football stadium.  The music was rockin’, people were clapping, and the energy was high.  Spirits were soaring.  I stood holding my son, standing next to my parents, alone.  I was surrounded by hundreds of people, family even, my son even.  But I was alone.  As the sermon began, Dutch woke up (he’d been asleep on my lap) and began to cry, so I took him out behind the bleachers.  He was tired and hungry, but I couldn’t get into the car because Jeff had the keys and I couldn’t go and get them because I didn’t want to distract people by walking in front of them (another illogical fear—being an inappropriate distraction to people).  So I paced behind the stadium for the entire service.  You don’t belong here.  Echoed hauntingly through my mind.  You don’t belong here.  Whispered so quietly into my soul.  You don’t belong.  I stood facing a corner for a few minutes to release a little of the built up pressure through tears, but brushed them away briskly as someone walked by.  As they sang the final song, Jeff came out and checked on me.  I got the keys and went to the car to feed Dutch.  As I sat, holding my squirming boy close to my chest, tears streamed down my face.  I don’t belong here.  I turned my face down to avoid being seen, as I peered at the sea of faces now flooding out of the stadium and out past our car.  I don’t belong here.  Groups of people formed, talking, laughing.  I don’t belong here.  Jeff and Dad had to stay for a leadership meeting, so Mom and I drove their car home.  Mom climbed in the back with Dutch and I drove home, silently.  I don’t belong here. 
Now looking back, I can see clearly that that was a lie from the evil one.  But why that?  Why that particular lie?  Why is it so important for us to belong?  We long to belong.  As little girls, we want that best friend.  As we grow older we dream of who we will marry, whose name we will take, who we will belong to.  We have a circle of friends, perhaps a family, perhaps a club or hobby group to whom we belong.  We surround ourselves with ways to belong, and yet—do we really understand to whom we belong?  Do we have that sense, that if all other things were stripped away, that with God we would belong?
The truth of the matter is that we do belong.  We belong to God.  And When we were born again, we became part of this family of God—we now belong.  Because we belong to God, we therefore belong to His Body.  To deny this would be like my Heart saying, I belong to Kari, but I have nothing to do with you, mr. Brain.  That would be deadly.  We belong whether we feel it or not.  We belong whether she snubs us or ignores us, whether she dislikes our opinions or the way we raise our children.  We belong despite our differences and we belong despite others’.  We belong to God and to the body of Christ.

So, in order to understand how we can have strong, unified relationships in our churches, we must first understand our relationship with God.  Put in another way, All our horizontal relationships flow from our vertical relationship.  And we cannot invest deeply in our relationships with others until we have a firm understanding of who we are in Christ.  We see this play out just on a natural level in relationships all the time.  Confident, secure people make good friends because they are able to freely give of themselves.  Needy, insecure, and emotionally incompetent people cannot give of themselves.  We must understand who we are in Christ first. 

Now looking again at the text, here’s the key:  The conditional clause if here expresses certainty and can be understood as since.   Since God is, we can be.  Since God has given us consolation in Christ, since we have the comfort of His love, since we have the fellowship of the Spirit, since we have affection and mercy from Him.  We have all these things!  We DO belong to Him.  Paul is basically using a persuasive argument, giving them the airtight reason why they should and can be united. It’s as if I found out that Liz was just recently given ten thousand dollars cash, and she had it in her pocket, and I walked up to her and said, “Hey Liz, if there is any cash in your pocket, lend me $5.”  Since there is, she can and should share it with me! J

We see this same pattern of since – then in Colossians 3:12-4 12 Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; 13 bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do.
Because we are God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved by God, we are to then respond in kind to our brothers and sisters in Christ.  Because we belong to God, we can truly belong to each other. 

Now the powerful thing about belonging is that it enables us to be secure in our identity.  When I married Jeff, I found this amazing confidence and security I hadn’t known before.  I belonged to Jeff.  Engaged—we made “Shasta shirts”:  Kari’s Man and JP’s.  (funny thing was that Jeff’s ended up saying Kari’s Ma”!)  And I do find great joy in belonging to Jeff.  And if we’re not married we think that if we just could get married then we’d have that identity, that belonging that we so crave.  But all human relationships fall short of truly giving us that belonging and secure identity that we so long for.  So while I do find great security in being “JPs” my true identity comes from being God’s daughter.  Then the transformation happens.  And this is so profound I cannot emphasize it enough:  When we understand that we belong to God, we are no longer defined by what we do.  Our identity is in Christ.  We might think that identity struggles are only for high school kids but every single one of us grapples with us no matter what our season of life. Just like belonging.  The single person, the new mom who no longer works, the newfound empty nester, the newly widowed woman.  Whenever our life circumstances change, we are faced with a crisis of identity. 
I had to learn this recently in a crash course of sorts.  10 months ago, Jeff and I had a huge plunge.  We left his career and our beautiful home and our church and our friends, to live with my parents so that we could finish seminary full-time and afford to live on our savings.  I had no idea.  I had no idea how this would absolutely strip me of everything that was me.  I’m going to share with you a journal entry from my bottom point which describes how I felt: Swallowed up:
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I’ve been swallowed up.  This must be what it’s like to be my Grandma, or any really really old person who has to leave their home and take a puny boxful of their life’s belongings to a retirement home, where they are taken care of and treated like an child, patted on the head and told to do crossword puzzles or knit washcloths no one will use.  They must wonder what to do.  No wonder they watch TV all the time.  They must cry a lot and think about the years when they were young, valued, busy.  When they had the freedom to drive, to go out with friends, to clean their own homes or plant a garden.  It must feel frustrating to have nothing but a potted plant to water or at best a tomato plant on their allotted 2-foot square plot of garden in the retirement home courtyard.  No wonder they’re grumpy all the time.  Although the advantage they have is that at least maybe they’re so tired by that point in their life that they don’t care as much.  Their bones ache so much perhaps they’re happy, sometimes at least, to have their life taken care of for them.  It must still be hard.  So hard.
That’s how I feel right now.  I’ve been swallowed up.  Somewhere in the last year Kari was swallowed up and now she sits inside someone else’s life.  Last July I drove away from me—at least that’s how it felt.  I really just drove away from our home, but we entered a new life.  We now live with my parents.  We eat off my parents’ plates.  We eat food from their refrigerator. We park in their garage.  We sit on their couch.  We also live in a new town.  It is their town.  The town is full of their friends.  We also attend a new church.  It is their church.  The church is full of their friends.  Jeff teaches a class on Tuesday nights.  The class is largely a group of my parents and their friends.  In July I went from being Kari Patterson, to being Bill & Karen’s daughter.  I went from being wife and mother to daughter … again.  Not that I have ever quit being a daughter, but I have, until this point, been a grown daughter.  Now I am not quite grown anymore. I am living with my parents again, surrounded by photos of my childhood, feeling as if I’m awkwardly suspended between two lives—one where I am wife and mom, one where I am still a child.  Dangling—that’s how I feel—dangling, never quite sure how to act and how to be because I am no longer me.  I’ve been swallowed up.
And in this new church I have no fit. I don’t belong.  There appears to be no Kari-shaped hole that I can discern.  There is a huge Jeff-shaped hole, which has been filled, and Bill and Karen shaped holes that have already been filled, and I am standing outside the front door, watching, pretending to be busy … but I’m really just watching and wondering where I went.
Dutch provides great joy—but really my role of irreplaceable mommy isn’t that big anymore.  Oma and Papa provide a lot more fun, and since I leave him with them one day a week, somehow it feels that lifetimes go by while I’m away and I’ve missed a significant chunk.  “He’s dong such-and-such now,” they say.  “Oh, I see,” I reply, “I see I must have missed it.” 
So if only, I tell myself, if only we could move out.  Somehow I could create a haven, a home for our family where we could be a family again. Somehow I could be me!  Somehow I could be all grown up again. I could cook meals for my family and we could eat off our own dishes!  I could decorate and clean and beautify our home, or I could make a mess and not clean it up for three days—because it’s home!  Home home home!  We could come home!  I could be ok not having a place to serve at church just yet, if only I had a place to rest my head where I could somehow just be myself.  It’s as if I’ve spent ten years developing into a woman and then all of a sudden I’ve been told that those ten years didn’t happen, and I need to forget everything what’s taken place during that time.
But we can’t move out until we know if Jeff will have a job at the church.  We have no income; we can’t move out until we know if we will have an income.  So we wait.  “Soon,” they say.  “Soon. We’ll have an answer for you soon.”  So every stupid Tuesday, as Jeff goes into the church office for his meetings, every stupid Tuesday, I tell myself to not get my hopes up. Every stupid Tuesday I wait for him to call—at 2:45—and tell me how his meetings went.  Every stupid Tuesday I hope they will give him an answer—that they will give him an answer that will give me my life back.  And I convince myself—every stupid Tuesday—that it doesn’t matter and that I’ll be ok no matter what.  And every stupid Tuesday he calls and I listen as he says, “Yeah, my meetings went great …” and he begins telling me the details of the staff meeting and then my stomach does that thing—that thing where I feel sick and where that stupid lump comes up in my throat and I realize I’ve done it again: I’ve gotten my hopes up.  And then I do what I know I will do even though I can see myself and in slow motion and a part of me goes, “No, don’t do it!”. I ask, “Did he say anything about …?”  and Jeff knows what I mean and he gets quiet then says, “No, Sauce, no. I’m sorry.”  And then I get silent and cry, and I feel stupid all over again because I realize I’ve done it again—I’ve gotten my stupid hopes up that sometime, one of these times, we’re going to get some good news that someone will give him a job and we’ll get to move out and I can have my life back again.  And I do it every stupid Tuesday.  And every stupid Tuesday I chide myself and say “You’re supposed to wait on God, not on them.  Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint.”   And then I sit and wonder when the strength will come and why I’m weary and fainting.  Every stupid Tuesday.
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So the journey for me these past 10 months has been realizing that who I am is not determined by anything that I do.  I might be a wife, a mom, a student, a ministry worker, a businesswoman, a daughter.  But this is not what defines me.  I am a daughter of God. I have value regardless of anything that I do.  And I can stand here today and say that with every ounce of my being I believe that.  And this is possible when we recognize this truth: That our life is swallowed up in Christ.  My mom is my ultimate example of this.  Shortly after my Swallowed Up incidence, I wrote this of her: 
I love my mom.  Today as I came home from class, I was (surprise!) discouraged beyond description.  Again.  Why is this?  Why can I not seem to shake this discouragement, this despondency?  I was told the secret today: contentment.  Ta da!  I just need to be content.  I know it is true.  But that is another topic and one I’m not brave enough to face yet.  For right now, let me tell you about my mom.
It occurred to me today, as I came in from class and found her sitting at the computer, working on something or other.  She had spent the morning at open prayer, a prayer time at our church where people are free to meet and pray for the needs of the body and city.  Then she ran errands, got groceries, and now was thawing meat for dinner (beef stroganoff which is what I overheard my dad requesting this morning).  She didn’t hear me come in, so it wasn’t until I had mixed up my hot chocolate, thrown a yam in the oven to bake, and sat down by the fire behind her that she turned and greeted me, as she always does, with a smile.  She could read my face immediately that I was discouraged and her face turned downward with mine.  “I’m ok,” I assured her and gave her a “thanks” smile, then sipped my hot drink.  “How was your morning?” I asked.  She said what she’d done.  “Who was at prayer?”  I asked, even though I didn’t have to because I already knew.   It was she, Muriel, and Dave.  The famous three, I call them.  Because, you see, they are always the ones at prayer and they’re the only ones at prayer.  Always.  And even though no one knows they pray, and even though no one else joins them, they always pray.
The reason all this stands out today is that my mom would never write a blog about how she feels swallowed up.  Why?  She’s already been swallowed up.  My mom has been swallowed up in Christ.  Her life is hidden with Christ in God.  She’s not searching for herself because she’s already been found, in Him – once and for all.
This plays out in very tangible ways.  My mom is the best listener I have ever met.  I have never heard her interrupt anyone—ever—in my entire life.  I have never heard her demand her rights, never heard her complain about her lot in life.  Not that she has no feelings or desires, that’s not it.  But she’s been swallowed up—my mom’s life is hidden with Christ in God.
This amazing character trait of hers used to bother me. In high school I thought she was weak.  I thought a real woman would assert herself, stick up for herself, demand her rights, right?  I real woman would say, “Get your own darn sandwich!”  But no, she looks those real women in the eye and says, there’s a better way.
This doesn’t mean she doesn’t get sad.  My mom is currently facing profound sorrow and grief.  She’s battling a debilitating disease (bravely I might add!).  She’s coping with the proximal “loss” of her son and daughter-in-law and granddaughter, which is magnified because of the physical limitations she’s facing.  And, on top of all that, she has to deal with her opinionated and profoundly emotional daughter living in her house, cluttering her countertops and criticizing her organizational skills.  (I know, the third trumps them all, huh?!)  But she has taken all three of these things in admirable stride.  She’s grieving, she’s weakened, she’s affected, but she is not shaken.  This is because she has been crucified with Christ, and the life she now lives in the body she lives by faith in the Son of God who loved her and gave Himself for her.  And she really does this, she doesn’t just spout off a verse about it.
So, all this to say that I am touched and humbled and blessed by my mom.  The focus has been on me and poor me and oh how hard this season has been for me.   But the truth is that my mom is battling things far more difficult than I ever have, and she calmly, contently, and serenely goes about her day, grocery shopping for beef stroganoff and meeting with her faithful two prayer warriors, serving behind the scenes for the sake of others.  Thanks, Mom, for the way that you teach me so profoundly.  Why can’t I be more like you?!
So, I’ll finish with this.  If we are to be able to weave together our lives in this beautiful and durable tapestry, we must first individually understand that I belong.  I am not alone.  I am not forsaken.  I am not unloved.  I am valued beyond measure.  I am begotten of God.  I am made in His likeness.  I am crafted in His image.  I reflect His beauty and glory.  He beckons me to dine with Him.  He longs for my embrace.  He craves the recesses of my heart and no thing about me does He despise.  In this I can rest.  In this I can be still and embrace the beauty of solitude, where my striving ceases and my heart finds its home.  In God’s presence I belong.  I belong to Him. 
And I would mention—and I wish I had more time to delve into this, but I’ll just mention it and if you want to talk more about it later or email me that’s great—when we understand that we belong to God and our identity is in Him, we are freed to enjoy solitude.  Embracing solitude is essential in embracing relationships.  We can’t truly give ourselves to each other until we’re at peace alone with ourselves.  So, when we’re finally at home with God and at home with ourselves, we can then step out and begin this journey of intimacy with each other.  We can then truly belong to each other. 

So, if we can begin, just begin to understand how profoundly we belong to Him, we can then and only then begin to understand that we belong to each other.  The Premise for our ability to give ourselves to each other is an understanding of the depth of love God has for us.  So we’ve covered the first P: The Premise.  You belong to God.  You are His beloved.  When we understand this, we can lose ourselves in Him, be swallowed up in Him, and then truly be at peace with who we are, completely apart from what we do. 
In a moment we’ll sing a song but I want you to jot this down because you have an assignment for tomorrow morning during your hour time with God (or you’re free to do it tonight if you want to).  I want you to write God a letter.  Dear God… and I want you to write to Him.  Tell Him exactly where you’re at, just start wherever you are.  Maybe why you feel like you don’t belong or why you feel like your identity is threatened or what you’re struggling with, but just write it all out to God, either about what we talked about tonight or other things.  Do that for 30 minutes, and then the least 30 minutes, take a walk or sit in your bed, somewhere alone where you can pray, and just read a few sentence of your letter and ask God to speak into that part of your life, right into your heart.  Let God speak to you about those things that you’ve written to Him.  And write down what you hear Him say, so you can remember.  That’s your assignment, either for tonight or tomorrow morning, but sometime before tomorrow’s session. 
We’re going to sing together right now, and I just want you to meditate on the words of this song, and perhaps it will take minute before you can sing them, really sing them, and believe them, but ask God to help you believe them.  Ask God to give you a revelation of His love for you.  And as you sing, embrace your status as a child of God, holy and dearly loved.  Embrace the reality that who you are is not determined by what you do.  And as we go back to our rooms, let’s stay mindful of this.  And as you fall asleep in His arms, consider that He neither sleeps nor slumbers, but watches you and loves you.  Because you are His beloved. 

—
NIGHT 2:

So who do you belong to? We belong to God.  That’s what we talked about last night.  The source of all intimacy, the foundation of all healthy relationships.  So today we’re going to talk about intimacy with each other, the relationships that form that strong, beautiful tapestry of interwoven lives for the glory of God. 

Now remember we’re exploring 4 keys surrounding this tapestry, and they all start with P’s.  What was last night’s P?  The Premise. Yes, the premise for intimacy and tapestry was the fact that we Belong to God and our identity is found in Him. 

Let’s look again at our passage: Philippians 2:1-4   1 Therefore if there is any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and mercy, 2 fulfill my joy by being like-minded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind. 3 Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself. 4 Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others.  Verse 2 of our text gives us a Picture of what intimacy and tapestry look like.  2 fulfill my joy by being like-minded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind.

Since we belong to God and we are secure in our identity found in Him, we are commanded to three things with regard to our relationship with each other.  To be 1) like-minded, 2) to have the same love, 3) to be one accord and one mind.  What do all these have in common?  Like, Same, One.  There is a togetherness, a solidarity, a unity of mind, love, spirit, and purpose.  So what does really mean?  What does this tapestry of unity look like?

There are several things that unity is not. First, Unity is not uniformity.  For example, unity is not being color-blind. I apologize if any of you have this t-shirt, but 15 years ago or so everyone was wearing these “God is colorblind” t-shirts.  I understand the idea, but I’m sorry, God is not colorblind! That is an insult to God, as if He had a handicap!  He created color. He loves the nations of the world, the races, the differences.  He loves that you have black hair and I have blond.  Look at the glory of creation.  The beauty of nature. Look at the tremendous joy we get from eating—bright fruits and vegetables, sweet chocolate, cool water.  Imagine if all food tasted like a potato.  Imagine if we all had exactly the same spiritual gifts?  He didn’t!  God created diversity, truly.  Diversity was His idea. 

And even in thought and opinion this is true.  Unity doesn’t mean that we agree on everything!  Wouldn’t we be in trouble if that’s what it meant.  Imagine sharing a house and specifically a kitchen with your mother. J  Fortunately my mom is very laid back, but we had to make some decisions for the sake of unity.  She likes to use sponges to wipe the counters, I think they are so gross and smelly, I like to use washcloths and change it every day.  So we’ve compromised and have both in the sink, I use mine and she uses hers.  She leaves leftovers in the pan and just sticks the whole thing in the fridge.  I’m obsessive with having leftovers in just the right sized small covered Tupperware.  The fridge being clean is her last priority.  I’m ridiculous about having a clean fridge.  I hyper-organized, she’s more laid back.  But we haven’t let these things disrupt the unity of the house of of our relationship.  We’ve agreed to disagree and made provision for both of our quirky ways. 

Now Yes, we want to agree on the essentials—the trinity, the inspiration of Scripture, but as my husband would say, pick out your four or five things that you’ll die for, and be ready to overlook the rest for the sake of unity. Or, another way to put it, agree to disagree, agreeably.  So unity is not uniformity.  

In the same way, intimacy has nothing to do with all being the same.  In fact, to borrow an illustration from marriage—think of physical intimacy. Physical intimacy is only possible because of the differences between a man and woman’s body.  If they were identical, there would be no physical intimacy.  I believe this is also true with regards to spiritual intimacy.  As long as we try to eradicate all differences we will only have a superficial community that lacks true intimacy.  It is through embracing each other’s differences that true unity can come through.  Jeff has struggled with this because our senior pastor is his mentor and they are as different as 2 people can be … but they’ve embraced their differences and even celebrated them because they can see how they fit together and better serve the body of Christ because of their differences.  That is unity. 

Secondly, Unity is also not something we can manufacture. Now this goes back to my introductory confessions at the very start of our time last night.  A big reason that I’d always avoided women’s ministry and women’s retreats was that it always felt like it was forced intimacy.  All of a sudden you were expected to have a deep, intimate talk into the wee hours of the night with whoever you bunked with.  Now, please don’t get me wrong, that is awesome if that happens! That’s the spirit of God moving.  But what if not?  What if you’re the kind of person that you can’t just open up all your guts to someone you just met?  True intimacy and belonging must be allowed to develop or grow with time. 

Recently I read this great book entitled The Search to Belong.  The author explains how in all human relationships we have circles of belonging, or spheres of belonging, and how healthy it is for people to function and move within all four of those spheres.  We have public, social, personal, and intimate circles.  Unity and belonging does not mean that we must all crowd ourselves into the intimate circle of our lives.  It does not mean we are best friends with everyone.  In fact, I think it might be dangerous even to say that we want to promote intimacy within the women here.  That’s an awesome goal, but the truth is that we cannot and should not be intimate friends with everyone.  So I would assert that tapestry is when our lives can be interwoven healthfully at all four levels. 

Some of us will have public relationships.  You see each other at church, and greet one another.  This is not any less valuable.  You belong to each other because you both attend the same church and serve the same Lord.  And that’s that. And that’s ok!  Some of us will be socially connected.  We belong to the same small group or young marrieds group.  Our kids are in a playgroup together.  You would refer to each other as friends or acquaintances.  We talk about diapers or movies or perhaps what we’re studying in Scripture on a pretty vague level.  This is fine!  These relationships are healthy and valuable.  Some of us then have a personal relationship with another.  These are friends.  True friends.  You can talk about personal things.  This is the kid of relationship I have with Liz.  We can talk marriage issues and pregnancy and the details of childbirth.  I could call her if I needed someone to talk to.  These are where our friends lie, and again, these are great relationships.  The intimate circle, then is only for 1 or maybe 2 people in your life, depending upon your personality and capacity for relationship.  This might be a spouse, a parent, an adult child, or a close friend.  This is a valuable relationship to have, but it’s equally valuable to realize that this circle is SO tiny compared to the other circles, and we cannot expect to pack this circle full of people. That would be emotionally and relationally exhausting. 

And here’s the interesting thing about these circles—people move!  Someone who was personal may be intimate for a period of time, then shift back to personal and eventually settle into social again.  At this particular point in life, my husband and my mom are probably the only people in my intimate circle, but at another point in my life my roommate Lori was probably the only person here.  Now she lives in Southern California and I only get to talk to her every six months or so.  So she’s now barely in the social circle.  Things change.  Sometimes, sadly, there may be no one in our intimate circle.  I think that even that is ok for a season.  There are times when Christ is the only one in the intimate circle of our lives, and during those times we do well to trust Him and ask Him for just the right intimate friend in His timing. 
So the gist of this is understanding that this intimacy and tapestry cannot be forced—people must be free.  Unity and belonging develop and grow as we cultivate the right environment.  But until we are willing to give up control and let people be free to move in and out of whatever belonging sphere they feel most comfortable, we’ll be forever pushing and pulling and forcing—preventing the very thing that we long for the most.  So right off the bat I want you to know that you are not forced to be intimate with anyone here.  You are free to be part of this family of women in whatever way you are most comfortable.  Our goal then, as we pursue intimacy and tapestry, is not to shove all of us into the inner sphere of each other’s lives but to live in such a way that intimacy and tapestry naturally and organically can thrive as God sees fit.     So as we have seen, intimacy and tapestry are not something we can force or manufacture on our own, our job is just to create the environment where these things can develop.  And what kind of environment is that?  I believe verses three and four show us this environment:  One of humility and vulnerability.  Our text will tell us. 

Let’s look at Verse 3.  It provides us with a Path to intimacy and tapestry. There’s our third P!  3 Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself.  Lowliness or humility is the key.  The road to unity has a steep downgrade. The path goes down, and down and down and down.  At times it’s windy, at times narrow, but always always down.  The amazing thing is that this downward path takes you to the mountaintop.  The summit of the Christian life is experienced on the mountaintop of humility. 

In my life, the answer is always humility.  We joke that in Sunday school the answer is always Jesus right?  Well the answer in my life is always humility.  I’m sharing with you on humility as a fellow sojourner on this journey because I certainly haven’t arrived.  But I know for sure the key to relationships, to intimacy, and to tapestry, is humility. 

If you know anything about me you know that I love to read. My two favorite non-fiction books of all time, which I have read probably more than a dozen times, are AW Tozer’s The Pursuit of God and Andrew Murray’s Humility.  I cannot read them enough.  Their pages always draw me downward, back to Jesus’ feet, back to a position where I can consider others better than myself.  I borrow much of what I share with you here from them. Another fabulous book, a fiction book, that powerfully displays the power of humility is The Hawk and the Dove.  I’d recommend that book to anyone!  Read it on your knees and be ready to have your heart broken. 

So if the path to unity is humility, what exactly is humility?  Just as we did with unity, let’s look at what humility is not.  Humility is not simply self-deprecating.  It is not pretending that you lack talent or skills.  It isn’t acting sad all the time. It doesn’t mean you have to be an introvert.  It doesn’t mean you lack dreams and ambitions.  False humility takes on these forms, but that’s only just another form of pride. 

Andrew Murray says humility is the sense of entire nothingness which comes when we see how truly God is all, and in which we make way for God to be all.  Humility is losing oneself in God. It is a total lack of concern for self, which sets us free.  Unless humility, recognizing that you live only and solely for the glory of God, marks your life, you will always be seeking for relationships to meet your own needs.  Humility is the key.  

While there are many facets to humility, this verse is focused on one in particular which is the focus of our study tonight: humility before others.  Andrew Murray says that humility toward others will be the only sufficient proof that our humility before God is real.  We cannot be humble before God unless we are humble before eachother.  Ouch.  So we are told to do nothing out of selfish ambition—Lord, what are my motives for doing this act of service?  Do I want to be seen? Appreciated? Applauded?  Do I consider others better than myself?  Romans 12:10 reads 10Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves and then goes on in verse 16, 16Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.  This doesn’t mean that we pretend that we don’t have gifts or talents, but we willfully choose to place ourselves as the bottom priority.  Jesus never pretended to be less than what He was, and yet He placed His own needs below those He came to serve. 

Here’s a cool picture of how humility produces this tapestry.  When fabric is woven together, each strand takes turns going over and under over and under over and under. That’s what weaving is, right?  What a beautiful picture of mutual submission.  Each individual strand, alternately goes under then over then another strand goes under that strand, then over, and on and on and on.  No one strand always goes under, and no one strand always goes over.  There is no hierarchy in this room, ladies. Regardless of any of our positions on women and men’s roles in the church, in this room there is no hierarchy, and we are all called to mutual submission for the interweaving, for the tapestry of the body of Christ. 

So how does this Path of humility produce intimacy and tapestry?  Verse 4 sends us on a Pursuit of unity.  There’s our 4th P!  Pursuit.   4Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.  Our humbling of ourselves before others is not a passive thing. As we follow the downward path, we pursue each other’s good.  We turn our eyes off of our precious selves, and look to see how we can lift up, bless, forgive, edify, help, encourage, and selflessly love our neighbor. Romans 15:1-2 echoes this idea: 1We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. 2Each of us should please his neighbor for his good, to build him up.  We are called to pursue each other’s good. 

AW Tozer explains how this path of humility frees us from three burdens which would hinder our pursuit of unity.

First, we are freed from Pride.  Tozer says, The burden of self-love is a heavy load indeed.  CS Lewis said, “The pleasure of pride is like the pleasure of scratching.  If there is an itch one does want to scratch; but it is much nicer to have neither the itch nor the scratch.  As long as we have the itch of self-regard we shall want the pleasure of self-approval; but the happiest moments are those when we forget our precious selves and have neither but have everything else (God, our fellow humans, animals, the garden and sky) instead.”  Humility, then is forgetting our precious selves.  Pride is the enemy of unity. 

Now the funny thing about pride is that it manifests itself in two distinctly different ways.  Boasting is the obvious one.  The less obvious one?  Self Pity.  John Piper says ”Both are manifestations of pride.  Boasting is the response of pride to success.  Self-pity is the response of pride to suffering.  Boasting says, “I deserve admiration because I have achieved so much.” Self-pity says, “I deserve admiration because I have sacrificed so much.”  Boasting is the voice of pride in the heart of the strong.  Self-pity is the voice of pride in the heart of the weak.  Boasting sounds self-sufficient.  Self-pity sounds self-sacrificing.  The reason self-pity does not look like pride is that it appears to be needy.  But the need arises from a wounded ego and the desire of the self-pitying is not really for others to see them as helpless, but heroes.  The need self-pity feels does not come from a sense of unworthiness, but from a sense of unrecognized worthiness.  It is the response of unapplauded pride.”

This hit me between the eyes the first time I read that.  How often have to sunk into my own mire of self-pity, which is nothing more than filthy, sickening pride.  Oh Lord save us from our pride.  THe most sickening kind of pride is religious pride …

Second, we are freed from Pretense.  This is the idea of “putting your best foot forward.”  I think this is a killer for women.  We constantly strive to look our best for others.  We fear that our clothes or car or house are too cheap.  We tell stories in a certain light to make ourselves look faultless.  We respond to “how are you doing” in a certain way, highlighting hardships or exaggerating how fatigued we are by our service for Christ.   Now I’m certainly not advocating that we obliterate the line between private life and public life.  Just because I get dressed and put make up on for the world doesn’t mean I’m operating under false pretense.  But do I live and represent myself in such a way that I’m constantly attempting to maintain pretenses with those around me.  And unfortunately this is so common to the way we live that we don’t even think of it as sin.  But this is no small thing. These burdens are real and they are keeping us from true unity.

Finally, we are freed from Artificiality.  Artificiality is living in the secret fear that people will find out who we truly are. We fear that some moment we will be careless and someone will peep into our empty souls. It will be found out that we are not as deep and spiritual as we portray ourselves to be.  Humility enables us to be loved for our true, ugly, raw selves.  This is why humility truly is the most freeing quality of life.  When we can forget ourselves, we cease to worry about messing up, looking dumb, being rejected, failing.  We cease fearing what others will think.  We quit backbiting, snubbing, and gossiping.  We lay down the burden of self and freely give ourselves to the betterment of others.  I cannot tell you how freeing it is to walk in genuineness.  Almost 10 years ago in college I struggled with what I guess would be called an eating disorder.  I just like to call it sin.  But I know what it’s like to live in artificiality, with that secret fear of being found out.  And the freedom came through simple humility, recognizing that in order to be free and truly loved by others I had to let them see my true, ugly, naked self. When I did that, I was free.  Whenever we hide our sin from others we’re living in artificiality.  But when we live in authenticity there’s freedom. 

Now, I referred to these things as burdens, right?  I don’t know about you, but when I picture these three things, pride, pretense, and artificiality, I don’t picture them as burdens in the sense that they are backpacks or big awkward knapsacks on our backs.  When I think of pride, pretense, and artificiality, I think of laying down a huge, heavy shield, as tall and as wide as I am, that’s thick and  tough and can protect me from the onslaught of painful arrows that human relationships bring.  What laying these burdens down does is make us terrifyingly vulnerable.  When I finally laid down my burden of artificiality, it took inhuman vulnerability.  You see these burdens are nothing more than self-protecting behaviors.  And why do we need to protect ourselves?  Because people are mean. Raise your hand if you’ve ever been hurt by another woman.   Life is cruel.  We have deep, festering wounds.  And to lay these things down is to open ourselves to a terrifying amount of vulnerability. 

Part of the very essence of womanhood is vulnerability.  Physically and sexually, women are more vulnerable than men, in general.  Some women (not all) are more emotionally vulnerable.  Our culture flees from vulnerability.  What I propose to you is that our vulnerability is a great gift.  And how we respond to our innate vulnerability will determine whether we are woven into the beautiful tapestry of life or whether we are isolated, alone, hardened, and embittered toward God, others, and life.  There have been three experiences in my life which have hinged on the importance of vulnerability. The first I’ve already mentioned—freedom from the sin of undereating was found through vulnerability – and actually the struggle with overeating was too because I learned to be vulnerable and accountable with my husband in all things. 

The second story in vulnerability involves my husband.  The whole story is on my blog “When God Broke my Heart” but here’s the shorter version:  …..story story story. 

So after all this, I had a choice.  My self-protected self was screaming-no way!  Don’t trust him!  Don’t trust God! You’re going to get hurt again!  Do you realize that if you end up together, this will ALWAYS be your story?! You’ll ALWAYS have to tell about how he dumped you?!  It’s too scary, too vulnerable.  Turn back.”  And I praise God that I didn’t.  Six months later we were married, and I entered into the most scary, vulnerable, and gloriously wonderful relationship of my life.  But it never would have been possible without terrifying vulnerability. 

And then we were tested in this area with regards to ministry.  This story is actually written in book form, and is posted chapter by chapter on my blog, It’s called The Road to Santa Clara, and the names and locations are changed for privacy.  But basially …. Story story story.
Being hurt there made it so hard to trust again in ministry.  So hard to be vulnerable with the leaders of foothills.  But we’re learning, again, how to be vulnerable. 

In being vulnerable again, there has been pain.  I can’t tell you how many times I have stepped out, in faith, in vulnerability this year, and been hurt. It seems like over and over and over.  One Sunday, after trying to strike up a conversation with a girl I went to high school with and receiving the coldest, rudest response, I got in the car and just wept—why are women so mean?  I cried to Jeff. 

But here’s where humility and understanding come into our quest for vulnerability.  The women’s director at my church shared a great analogy with me and it was so simple and rang so true.  We’re all like Legos.  Everybody familiar with Legos? I grew up loving Legos and we still have buckets and buckets of them from my brother and me. Now some of us are like those big  ground pieces.  Those big, square, green pieces with like 50 little dots all over them.  Or maybe just like those long skinny pieces with 10-12 dots. But some of us are like those little teeny pieces, with just one or two little dots.  We all have these relationship receptors. Some of us have tons of receptors, we have a tremendous capacity for multiple friendships.  Our “personal” sphere that we talked about is huge and we love it. Some of us have only a few little receptors.  And if those are already filled, we have no capacity for more relationships.  When we meet those people and sense that they’re receptors are full, our right response is not to go, “Humph! How rude!” Our response is, “well-looks like all her receptors are full. Lord please direct me to someone who has empty receptors, just like me.” 

Humility also leads to understanding.  When we’re humble, grace flows out of us, and we can understand that we are still a broken, wounded group of women.  We have to have realistic expectations.  Some people will judge you.  I know for a fact that some women have judged me because of all kinds of things.  Some people have been so hurt they are like wounded animals, hiding, incapable of being vulnerable, lashing out like animals when we try to get near them.  Our job is to respond with love, humility, compassion, to be quick to listen, slow to anger.  Give them the benefit of the doubt.  Don’t assume the worst, believe the best.  And be very very slow to assume that just because someone doesn’t instantly take to you that there’s something wrong with you (now if NO ONE takes to you that’s another story—make an appointment with Liz! J), but recognize that 99% of the time, it’s because of the other person’s stuff.  Their pain, their wounds, their busyness, their stress.  Rarely does is it directly related to you. 

And ultimately remember that we must choose vulnerability, we must choose humility.  We must choose to lay aside pride, pretense, and artificiality, resting solely in our confidence as beloved daughters of God, recognizing that we belong to Him, and recognizing the power of giving ourselves to one another in free selfless love, without obligation, manipulation, or expectation. 

If we want to be a beautiful tapestry, we must be willing to bend, yield, hurt, lay down our lives, pursue each other, overlook a fault, forgive, laugh, cry. 

SUM UP 4 P’s:  Premise for unity: We belong to God and are rich in Him.  Picture of unity: Love, solidarity, likemindedness, agreeing to disagree.  The Path to unity: Humility. And the Pursuit of unity: Laying down our burdens to embrace vulnerability. 

And here’s the cool thing about tapestry.  If you’ve ever seen the raw backside—it’s ugly!  Full of knots, and strings and the colors don’t make any sort of artistic sense, and it just looks awful.  That’s what our perspective is.  We have this tapestry laying over the heavens, and from our perspective, we look at our churches, our relationships, our women’s ministry, and we think—Ugh!  That’s a mess.  But from Heaven. From God’s eternal perspective, he sees the finished product, he sees how all the colors mesh, the patterns that form, the artwork that evolves from the weaving together of broken, surrendered lives.  So we trust Him. 

We say God, I hurt, and I don’t understand how this all fits together, but I rest in knowing that I belong to You. I am holy and beloved.  And no matter what else happens I am fulfilled, content, and satisfied in who I am in You.  And because of that I choose to embrace pain, I choose to step out in humility and vulnerability to my sisters in Christ, so that You might be glorified as our lives are woven in Your tapestry, in Your work of art, that Your beauty and glory would be declared among all people.  In Your name and for Your sake.  Amen. 

So you might be thinking, “Gee, Kari, quit all your harping on spending money and stuff. God does actually give us things to enjoy.” I know. I’m just sharing the things that God’s teaching me and challenging me with. I certainly don’t want to play the Holy Spirit in your life, but I do pray that these LiveDifferent challenges do just that–challenge us. I was reminded in a sermon recently that our struggle is not to make our lives relevant to the culture around us. Everything around us is pressuring us and shaping us and conforming us to be like the world. Our challenge is to be shaped, conformed, and transformed into Christlikeness. How is this done? By the renewing of our minds through God’s revealed Word.

The phrase that’s been burning in my soul recently has been “wartime lifestyle.” We young kids have no idea what a wartime lifestyle is like, but my dad can sure tell you, and if any of you have grandparents from WWII, they can really tell you. What I like about this phrase is that it reminds me that there is a war going on every single day. We live in the midst of a spiritual battle. While I brush my teeth and eat my cereal in the morning, there is a battle going on for the hearts and souls of millions of people. Thousands of people will die and go to hell while I write this blog. I’m sorry, I know that’s disturbing, but I’m asking God to disturb me. I’m asking God to break my heart a little. I’m asking Him to make my life less conformed to this world and more conformed to His Word. So I looked up wartime lifestyle online and I found this video by John Piper (it’s only 3 minutes so CLICK HERE and watch it!). I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Well, in the midst of wartime lifestyle I have this profoundly great pleasure of a gift magazine subscription from my sister-in-law to Real Simple. I love this magazine. For one, it’s excellently written, so it’s a joy to read from a literary standpoint. Secondly, it always has creative ways to (surprise!) live Simply. So there are tips for wise spending, tips for easy and healthy meals, tips for house organization. This month had tips for cost-effective kitchen remodeling. It fascinates me to read the opinions and thoughts and conclusions of real men and women who are searching for something. It helps me understand a little more how people think. So tonight as I was reading, I came across a horrifying statistic, and I knew immediately what my LiveDifferent challenge for this week would be: In 2006, Americans alone spent $3 BILLION on CHEWING GUM. Yes. $3 billion on gum. I’m not talking about coffee or junk food or things that at least have some nutritional value. GUM. A non-nutritive substance. Now I am no mathametician (I can’t even spell that), but in some quick research online we can estimate that approximately 15 MILLION people DIE each year from starvation in our world. These are people who may or may not be able to hear the gospel before they die from starvation. The amount of money that Americans spend chewing trident would therefore be enough money to feed these people ($200 a year per person) completely. I am sorry, but is that appalling to anyone else? I know that it’s not that easy. You can’t just not buy your Wrigley’s and expect people to be fed, but if these numbers don’t frighten us, what will? I just think it’s ironic that Americans alone waste enough money on a non-nutritive substance to feed the rest of the starving world. One secular reporter wrote, “It is a shame on humanity that in a world that is richer than ever before, six million children die of malnutrition and related illnesses before they reach the age of five.”

I’m really not trying to be the obnoxious girl here. But right now I am surfing online looking at pictures of babies, starving, and tears are running down my cheeks and I’m weeping because my little boy is sleeping contentedly in his crib with his full tummy and his warm blankets. And I have a pack of gum in my purse. And another mommy, in another part of the world, is watching her baby die of starvation. I know I can’t change it, but it should bother me. I won’t post pictures here, because my point is not to guilt you or me or anyone into making life changes, but would you consider just looking, go online and just look. Let your heart be broken. Let yourself grieve for the gluttony of our nation. Let yourself be bothered. I am uncomfortable and glad at the same time for finally starting to see, allow myself to see, the reality of suffering and the reality of my relative ease.

So, where do we go from here? We LiveDifferent. The challenge this week, simple as it might seem, is to quit chewing on gum and start chewing on God’s Word. I challenge us to give up buying and chewing gum for one year (or for forever if you’re up for it!), and make a greater donation to a mission organization such as GFA, where you can buy sheep and goats and chickens directly for families in need. Research organizations that provide for the hungry and consider where your money would be best spent. And take some time to sit in God’s Word. Jeff and I started a new tradition, because he wants to work on his preaching (he mostly teaches, which is different, and wants to learn how to make the Word applicable to people), so once a week he’s preaching us (Dutch and me) a sermon as a devotional. Tonight we went through Romans 3 and I was just reminded of how rich and wonderful God’s Word is. In the mornings I’m in 1 Samuel and in awe of how powerful the stories of David are, and how they wash my soul and set my mind on things above. Chew on God’s Word. Take a stick of it each morning and chew on it all day long. No gum can refresh you like God’s Word.

Thank you for your commitment to LiveDifferent with me. These are just ideas. I would love to hear any ideas that you all might have. I’m obviously blind to my own weaknesses, so I’d love to hear ways that you see to LiveDifferent. And I do pray that God would break our hearts, make us uncomfortable, make us weep even, weep. Our lives are two seconds long. A vapor. We live for something so much greater. So let’s LiveDifferent, yes?

“We found a church we love!” 

“I love my church.”

“Well, we don’t love love our church, but it’s ok.”

I’ve often said those kind of comments.  In Corvallis, I always told people, “I love my church so much.”  At other times in other towns, I would often say, “Well, I don’t love love my church, but it’s ok, I mean at least they teach the Word and stuff.”  And I’ve often asked people, “How do you like your church?”  They or I would respond with a quick run down of characteristics that are either positive or negative.  “Well, the worship is [fill in the blank: boring, loud, quiet, old fashioned, hard to follow, not my style] and but I like the [fill in the blank:  preaching, sunday school, nursery, youth group, small groups].  So all in all it’s just fine.”  How many times have I done that?! 

But what Jeff keeps reminding me is that the church is the people.  Yesterday I overheard some college girls doing the old children’s hand-song:  “Here is the church, here is the steeple, open it up and see all the people,” twising their hands upside down to reveal their wiggling fingers.  Such a small thing, but it does teach our children that the church is the building (and that it has a steeple!), and the people wiggle around inside.  And for many, that is the church–the building.   Or, more accurately for our discussion, the church is the programs.  We like worship but don’t like the teaching.  We like the teaching but we don’t like the sunday school.  We like that the church has a nursery. We don’t like that the church has a nursery.  Goodness gracious I am so convicted of how opinionated I am with regard to “how to do church.”  The church we’re at now is lightyears different from the church where we served before.  And naturally, when we first came all those differences felt awkward and bothersome, like wearing someone else’s shoes.  I kept evaluating things in terms of my preferences. 

So this past week, I’ve been talking to God about this:  To love “our church” is to love the people.  We will never love our church until we love the people.  And if you don’t love those people, then you don’t love people at all, because people are people.  Do I love people?  Do I love these people?  God never once commanded us to love the worship style, to love the preaching style, to love the building. He never commanded us to love programs or procedures.  He commanded us to love the people, and the people are the church. 

Now I’m not saying that our individual likes and dislikes have no value. I wholeheartedly agree that we should find a local congregation where we can support the work of the ministry without reservation about essential issues.  Not every congregation is for every person.  But the majority of us aren’t in that boat.  The majority of us, including myself, just need to ask God, Help me love my church.  Help me love the people.  Move me past myself and give me supernatural love for people, even the ones who are hard to love. 

And finally, love for my church moves me beyond local congregation walls to love the church.  The worldwide church of God–all true believers.  Do I love people?  Real people–the ugly ones.  The bitter ones.  The ones who don’t believe the same way I do.  The ones who aren’t friendly or even nice sometimes.  The ones who are annoying (aren’t we all?).  Do you love your church?  Let’s love our churches.  And next time someone asks, “How do you like your church?”  Let’s respond, “I love every one of them.” 

Jeff and I just got back from the coolest experience.  We got to speak at the Oregon Moms in Touch annual conference, up at the Mount Angel Abbey.  My mom and Dutch came too, so it was a sweet experience for the four of us.  Mom has known many of the women for years and Dutch, well …. Dutch was his crazy self.  He actually didn’t break anything, so that was great, but he did manage to reach into the candy bowl and grab an enormous red hot heart-shaped gummy candy and shove it in his mouth.  He was later covered in pink sticky goo from top to toe.

We only talked for 20 minutes tops, but it was basically just a time where we shared our testimonies of our moms who prayed for us–persevered in prayer for us, and how God has been so faithful to honor those prayes in our lives.  We are the beneficiaries!

I was so humbled to look out at this group of women.  They are saints. These women are all moms, and they’ve devoted their lives to lifting up their children i prayer to God.  Young and old alike. One mom was pregnant, some had kids in their 30s.  But their common goal was this:  to devote their lives to prayer.  I pray that I can be half the mom that these women are–devoting my life to praying for Dutch and any other children God blesses us with. 

ANd for you moms out there–hang in there!  Through diapers, through tantrums, puberty, rebellion … hang in there!  God has been so faithful to me, and I know it is the result of a praying mom.  And any of you MIT moms out there, way to go!  Your prayers matter. 

I never had the privilege of meeting Dr. John Mitchell, founder of Multnomah Biblical Seminary (then Multnomah School of the Bible).  He died in 1990, at 98 years of age.  His most famous quote is engraved on a plaque in the library: “Don’t you folks ever read your Bibles?”  He was famous for that.  But his lesser known quote that he said just as often was, “Do you love the Savior?”  Just that.  So simple.  “Do you love the Savior?”  And I’ve been thinking about this lately.  Jeff and I are always talking about the best way to influence people for Christ.  And this week, as I listened to the John Piper message (posted in LiveDifferent 3), I realized what is missing from so many of our pulpits and lives:  Love for the Savior.  Oh I know that we want to live for God. We want to serve Him.  We want to be good people. We want to be His hands and feet.  We want to love others, see families reconciled, see people come to Christ.  But do we love the Savior?  Do I love the Savior?  Do you love the Savior?

I remember a while back visiting a church and hearing a great message.  It was creative, funny, and easy to listen to.  It was a really creative way to help people understand how to respond better to situations where they might feel stressed or negative.  But after I left, I couldn’t shake this nagging feeling I had.  What was wrong? I enjoyed listening to the message, and even took to heart a few things, thinking through how I could apply the principles and respond better in situations.  But later that day I realized what had been bugging me–It wasn’t about Jesus!  I never opened my Bible!  I wasn’t drawn to the feet of my Savior.  I wasn’t drawn to fall on my face before my Lord and confess my love for Him.  Principles are good.  Biblical principles are good.  Godly principles are good.  But you know that?  They’re not Christ.  They’re not what’s real.  They might help us to be good people, help us to resolve conflict better, help us to respond better to life’s challenges, but they’ll never make us fall in love with the Savior.  Without a complete, wholehearted, reckless adoration for Christ those principles are no more potent than the Seven Steps of Highly Effective People.  Great for making friends and influencing people, but they won’t draw us into the Holy of Holies, they won’t create in us a hunger for the presence of God.  Do we love the Savior?

I’ve mentioned before that I love looking to see what people write under “religion” on their Facebook profile.  I noticed that my brother’s says “Christ Adorer.”  When I saw that I just stared at it for a second. Christ Adorer.  Is that my religion?  Do I adore Christ.  Seriously.  Let’s be honest.  What are things that I adore.  Well, I adore my son, that’s for sure. I could talk about him for hours. I love to post pictures of him and videos and anything else that will somehow communicate with other people how cool he is.  I adore my husband.  And sometimes I adore some pretty simple things like mango with sticky rice or sweet iced tea on a hot day.  Do I adore Christ?  Now to be real here, it’s tough because I’ve never actually seen Christ.  I’ve never been able to put my arms around him. I can’t smell him or feel his arms around me. I don’t know the sound of his voice.  But my spirit does. And when I’m with Him, I do adore Him. I am intoxicated by His presence.  I love Jesus.  And that is the goal of our Christian life–to adore Christ with ever increasing measure, until the day our love is make complete in His presence in glory. 

But if all that we do is talk about biblical principles, how will people ever see and savor the beauty of Christ?  How will they be motivated to live those principles if they won’t adore the Savior?  And even if we are motivated to live that way, is that the reason we’re here?  Is our goal in life to have a good marriage, a good job, and to live a good way?  That’s hopefully a byproduct, but our goal is Christ! Our goal is to love and adore the Savior!  ANd if He is not truly beautiful and captivating to us, I am venturing to say that something is wrong.  And yes, our love waxes and wanes.  Our emotions grow cold.  We experience deserts, wildnernesses.  But if our default experience, our normal, most common experience is a Christian life that is centered on living biblical principles and not on seeking and savoring the glory of Christ, we’ve missed the boat. I’ve missed the boat. 

So I think I’m landing with the conclusion that my goal in life is not just to love people, not just to give my life for ministry, not just to see people made whole–it is first and foremost to seek God with all my heart, to seek Him for His sake, to see His beauty, to worship Him in His splendor.  As John Piper says, “When people are caught up in the heavenly sphere, caught up in the beauty and glory of God, they’ll do diapers differently!”  I’m all about the earthly action–I think my whole LiveDifferent challenge shows this loud and clear.  But if at the bottom of it all we aren’t Christ Adorers, then lay aside the LiveDifferent and first and foremost seek Christ. 

Do you love the Savior? I pray you do. I pray that I will more and more.  Let’s pray for a people whose hearts are truly set ablaze with love for Him.  Amen?

Last week as part of our LiveDifferent challenge we gave away “Beans ‘n Jeans” to help feed and clothe people in need. I’m a few weeks into my clothing fast and that’s good and well. Some of you may have read my recent post on Prayer in Action which focused on Prayer as Justice & Compassion. Basically, if our spiritual life isn’t one that’s actively moving as the hands and feet of Christ, it is no spiritual life at all.

Last night, I had a big change in my heart. I decided I no longer want the house. Any of you who know me at all know that for the last 10 months I’ve had my eye on the house. The same house. I’ve known, at least I felt like I knew that God wanted us to have this house. It was perfect. Everything I’d ever dreamed of, and with plenty of room to grow and open up our doors to others for ministry. And, provided that we could sell our McMinnville home, it was also in our price range — the upper end of our price range mind you, but our price range nonetheless. But a few doubts have been slowly creeping into my mind. First, I was jostled a little by something my pastor said a few weeks ago in church while discussing finances. He said a pretty simple statement, “Just because you can afford it, doesn’t mean you should buy it!” He was basically explaining how we automatically look to see “what we can afford” and then get the very most we can. That’s human nature. So I contemplated this, and while I did, I went to visit my brother and sister-in-law, as you know, in Salt Lake City. Now I don’t want to trespass their privacy but let’s just be frank about the fact that my brother makes a a lot of money. But here’s the thing–they give it away. You would never guess by visiting them. They have a beautiful but humble house that’s suited perfectly for ministry. They have only one car. They don’t have new furniture, they don’t have new clothes, they don’t have the latest this or the latest that. They live soooooooo below their means, so that they can give what they have for the Kingdom of God. Now I just had to shake my head at that, because I know if I were his wife, I’d be like, “Give me some of that money so I can have some new stuff!” But she’s not like that. She has the same vision, the same perspective on life.

So coming home I considered this. I thought, it’s no wonder God hasn’t entrusted me with a lot of money–He knows how poorly I’d use it! So as I thought about this and about the LiveDifferent challenge, I thought about this house that I’ve dreamed of for 10 months. And strangely enough, it was like slowly opening my little hand and letting my precious little thing slide away. And, strangely enough, I don’t miss it.

So while contemplating this I read a chapter in a prayer book and came across this translation of Isaiah 58:6-11:

“Is not this what I require of you as a fast: to loose the fetters of injustice, to untie the knots of the yoke, to stop every yoke and set free those who have been crushed? Is it not sharing your food with the hungry, taking the homeless poor into your house, clothing the naked when you meet them and never evading a duty to your kinsfolk? Then shall your light break forth like the dawn and soon you will grow healthy like a wound newly healed; your own righteousness shall be your vanguard and the glory of the Lord your rearguard. Then, if you call, the Lord will answer; if you cry to him, the answer will be: “Here I am.” If you cease to pervert justice, to point the accusing finger and lay false charges, if you feed the hungry from your own plenty and satisfy the needs of the wretched, then your light will rise like dawn out of darkness and your dusk be like noonday; the Lord will be your guide continually and will satisfy your needs in the shimmering heat; he will give you strength of limb; you will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.”

Something in my heart leaps when I read this! Yes! That’s it! That’s what I want! That’s what we’re supposed to do! We choose to go without so that others may have. We “fast” to untie the knots of the yoke, to set free those who have been crushed. How can we offer to God a sanctified life if that life doesn’t take up the cause of those around us?

So on Wednesday (this was the depressing day of which I wrote about earlier this week), I was driving to school and consumed with myself, and as I pulled onto the I-205 off ramp there had been an accident so traffic was backed up, and I knew then I’d be late. And as I sat in traffic I realized that Jesse was there. Jesse is the homeless man who is at the Glisan off-ramp of I-205. My wonderful husband, who always disciples me by his actions, has befriended Jesse. We would always give him part of our lunches, and Jeff would always try to pull up next to him to talk, or get out and put his arm around him and talk to him about Jesus. Jesse always recognizes us when we come and smiles at us. Well this Wednesday I was already late, waiting for the accident, and I saw Jesse and realized the only food I had with me was my yogurt, which was the thing I had hurriedly grabbed in my frantic attempt to get out of the house. Oh Lord, do I have to give him my yogurt? Can you believe how selfish I am? That’s what was going through my mind. I knew I wouldn’t have time to get anything else and I wouldn’t be home until 3:30 and by then I’d have a raging headache because I cannot stand being hungry. And Isaiah 58 went through my mind. Ok, God, my yogurt. But I was stopped four cars away, and couldn’t pull up near him, so I through it into park, grabbed my yogurt and ran up the off-ramp calling him by name and gave him the silly yogurt, then the light turned green and I raced back to my car before people started honking and giving me the universal “I love you” finger sign. But as I went up I saw him absolutely light up and smile at me, a real smile–looking me right in the eyes. “Thank you!” He shouted as I waved.

You know what? I didn’t get a raging headache because I was hungry. In fact, I felt better because it took my focus off my silly little self. And you know what–just to be real honest here, I think maybe Jesse was kind of tickled to have a cute little blond girl run up to him and smile and call him by name(ok maybe he didn’t think I was cute but my husband does). I think maybe that mattered to him. I know it mattered to me.

So, Jeff and I have started making it a habit that Sunday night I pack our lunches and our dinners, just like normal, for our 10-hour day of class on Mondays. But Monday morning we give our lunches to Jesse, we tell him that God loves him, and we call him by name and look him in the eye and tell him he’s valuable. And one cool thing is that our friend Lyndi usually brings leftover sandwiches and coffee cake from Starbucks so a lot of days we end up with more food than we brought anyway, like loaves and fish!

So the LiveDifferent challenge is this: One day this week (or every week!), fast one meal (if you’re like me and you can’t not eat, just eat something simple for that meal, the point isn’t to not eat, the point is to give to others and offer ourselves to God), and give that “meal” to the homeless or the poor. That will look different to different people. If you live where you have access to homeless people, take your lunch to them personally. If you don’t have that kind of access, donate $2.16 to the Portland Rescue Mission–that’s enough to provide one meal and you can give online with your credit card (click here!) Wherever you are, there are always people in need and it is so easy to give to them if we just take the time.

I’ll leave you with this: The ultimate way to LiveDifferent is to see and savor our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the One who inspires and empowers us to LiveDifferent, and He is the reason we do. I listened to a profound message this morning by John Piper. (Click here to listen) It was delivered to a group of pastors, but it’s applicable to us all. Set aside time and persevere through it–67 minutes long–or break it up into chunks and listen as you are able. If that doesn’t motivate you to LiveDifferent, I don’t know what will! Thanks for reading. Let’s LiveDifferent this week!

At about midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them.  Acts 16:25

I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I had the “blahs.”  Well, ok, to crack open the door a little farther into my heart — I was depressed.  Just plain depressed.  Jeff and I were both exhausted, he’d had no sleep, I’d had no sleep since I’ve been up at night with this stubborn cough, and as I got all my things ready to go to class for the day, Dutch was crying because I was leaving and Jeff was trying to console him.  After spilling my tea, misplacing my keys, and fratically realizing I needed to grab some food for my lunch, I finally got in the car and sped down the driveway, only to hit a pothole and jostle my hand, spilling my tea all over myself.  A small thing, really.  Spilled tea.  But at the moment it might as well have been my heart that was jostled just a tiny bit too much, because it spilled.  I pulled over to the side of the road and just started weeping.  Exhausted, weary, confused, tired. Just tired.  Somehow it just felt as if all of this was for nothing.  Why?  Why are we even bothering to “LiveDifferent” –what’s it all for?  Why do I even try to keep my eyes fixed on God. It feels like it’s all for nothing.  So after catching my breath, I simply cried to God, “Please God, just something.  Just something.  Just something.  Just a little something to show me that You’re in all this, that You haven’t forgotten us, that there’s actually a reason why we’re living this crazy life of so-called faith.  Just something, please.”  And with that came a little dose of peace, and I drove off to class. 

So this afternoon, after putting my little wild man down for his nap, I brought my lunch upstairs to find refuge in the silent indulgence of checking my email and reading blogs.  My little “Something” came.  An email from an old high school classmate who I’ve not seen in 10 years, who reads this blog.  Basically, it was my “something” from God and more — a reason to press on. It was the most encouraging letter I’ve ever received.  Hands down.  I wept as I read it, realizing that Acts 16:25 is the reason we press on in hardship, the reason we live this crazy life of so-called faith even when we don’t feel like–because our life always impacts others.  Paul and Silas were in prison (and my life is a Caribbean Cruise compared to theirs!), and while they were praying and singing hymns to God, the the other prisoners were listening.  The world around us is saying, “Inspire us, please!  Inspire us.  Why should we hope in God?”  I know I long for that. Why do I read those spiritual greats–Tozer, Murray, Piper?  Why do I love reading and hearing about the lives of my friends who are walking the life of faith–because it inspires me.  It calls me to hope in God, to lay aside my petty struggles and look to Jesus.  I crave the inspiration of those around me.  So when we give up we don’t just let ourselves down, we let each other down.  Because we’re all connected.  So when Paul and Silas were praising God, they were preaching the greatest sermon of their lives–believe in God.  Believe in God.  Believe in God. 

So my “Something” came as a tender, loving, encouraging reminder that God is at work in Jeff’s and my life.  He does hear, He does answer, and the world is watching to see how we will respond to life.  To the dear sister who wrote to me:  Thank you.  Words can’t express how you encouraged my soul.  I pray that this little blog would be a teeny tiny dose of inspiration, hope, encouragement to any of who also desire to live a life of faith in our gracious God.  And when you’re desperate, ask God. Ask Him for a little “Something” of your  own.  And share your little “Something” with someone else, for the glory of God.

I haven’t written in a few days because I guess I’ve been struck with a case of the blahs.  Just blah.  Tired.  Weary.  Feeling as if the end of the tunnel is finally showing (classes end May 5), and I realize that at the end of the tunnel there is … nothing.  Basically the gist of it is that something I’d kind of been hoping for looks like it’s not really going to be happening, and while we’d been hoping and praying that something would work out so that Jeff could get a job in May when school gets out, our house would sell in McMinnville, and all the pieces would fall into place for us to move out, etc. etc.  I guess without realizing it I once again got my hopes up. 

So this disappointment caught me off guard because I’d really been SO joyful and content and just sensing that God was up to something good (good in my perspective).  So this week it seemed to slap me in the face—this reality that the housing market is an absolute shambles, there are 53 houses just like ours for sale in McMinnville, and the fact of the matter is that May is coming and there’s no job on the horizon. 

So, what do we do with disappointment?  Yesterday I had the honor of playing the djembe at our seminary’s Day of Prayer.  It was SO GOOD to play again! Ahh … it felt like coming home after a long travel abroad.  My hands knew what to do, my spirit was worshipping, I knew I was doing a little bit of what I was created to do.  And after we played, Dr. Blom, who teaches all of the spiritual formation classes, shared a brief message on Vision.  Vision. Hm…  He shared about little “V” vision, symbolized by holding up your first two fingers as if making bunny ears.  Then there is big “V” vision, symbolized by stretching out both arms up as far as possible making a “V” shape out fro your shoulders.  Small V vision are the things like ministry, goals and dreams and hopes for our life.  Our big V vision is the glory and presence of Christ in our lives.  He is our vision.  But we spend too much time totally focused on the little V vision, so much so that we forget all about our big V vision–the glory and presence of Christ.  Our little V vision can be taken from us.  Disappointments, dashed hopes and dreams, failure–all these things can devestate our little V.  But nothing can devestate our big V.  Nothing. 

So after contemplating this, I spent our individual prayer time contemplating some of these things and asking God what it was that was stressing me out about our future.  And He answered:  My attempt to reconcile two opposing drives in my life:  The drive to serve the Lord Christ and the drive for a comfortable life.  These are the two driving forces in my life, and unfortunately they are at odds.  My stress comes from striving to reconcile these two things.  From trying to walk two directions at the same time.  Or, to put it in more biblical terms, from serving two masters.  You cannot serve both God and Mammon.  Seeking to serve God and seeking relative comfort don’t seem like they’re mutually exclusive. I mean, I’m not seeking worldly things, right?  I mean, who doesn’t want a house, enough money to pay their bills, who doesn’t want to NOT live with their parents into their 30’s? 🙂  Who doesn’t want to be financially stable and be able to have good health insurance and who doesn’t want a stable job and who doesn’t want to have a clue about the future?  I can tell you who didn’t … Jesus.  Not serving God and Mammon doesn’t just mean that we forsake attempts to get rich.  It means we decide once and for all who we will serve, and there can only be one choice.  Which drive will it be?  Christ or Comfort?  Which vision will be focus on–the little V or the big V?  What is my vision.  Or rather, Who is my vision?

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee, Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of heaven, my victory won,
May I reach heaven’s joys, O bright heav’ns Son!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my vision, O ruler of all. 

There’s a great Chris Tomlin song (what Chris Tomlin song isn’t?) on my mind.  It goes,

You and I were made to worship, you and I are called to love.  You and I are forgiven and free. You and I embrace surrender, you and I choose to believe.  You and I will see, who we were meant to be. 

We were made to worship.  But a sad commentary is that trying to get people “to worship” can be like pulling teeth.  Each week at church I have to admire our worship team, especially during our 8:30am early service.  They give all they’ve got, full of energy and enthusiasm perhaps they don’t always feel, but they’re always there, pumping up the audience and encouraging them to praise God. 

I’m new to the Facebook world.  I like the idea of being able to share photos and catch up with long-lost friends.  I’ve already made several awesome connections with people from years’ past.  But one of the things I don’t like about it is that I feel like I can see into people’s lives a little more than I like.  For example, most will put “Christian” under religious preference, or some will write “Jesus” (like I did) or something of that sort.  But then sometimes, it seems like that’s where Jesus ends.  Everything else about the profile says nothing about being a Jesus-lover.  The reality of the profile is that He is just that — a religious preference.  He’s not praiseworthy, compelling, beautiful, captivating.  He’s not the reason tto live.  And please hear me in this, I’m pointing this finger at myself.  What do I love, adore, and crave?  Jesus?  That’s one thing that I love about my husband.  He truly loves and craves Jesus Christ.  Jesus is beautiful and compelling to him.  I long for a hunger that parallels his.

Now please hear me here, my point is not about facebook profiles.  It certainly doesn’t mean that every book, movie, quote, activity, or interest should be centered on doing Bible studies and singing hymns.  Not at all!!!!  I have seen and worshipped and experienced God listening to James Taylor and watching Sweet Home Alabama.  So really, that’s not what I’m saying.  What I’m saying is, what were we created to do?  Who are we, really?  We were created to worship, and we all do worship, we naturally worship whatever it is that we most love and enjoy.  What do you worship?

This Tuesday I have the awesome privilege of playing the djembe for Multnomah Seminary’s Day of Prayer event.  I’m thrilled to get to play again in corporate worship after almost three years.  BUt the best part is that I have to “practice” the songs … which means more worshipping!  Everlasting God, Step by Step, Agnus Dei … all these awesome worship songs have been blaring through our house as I practice my beats.  And as we’re caught up in how awesome God is, we see that this, this is what we were created to do!  Here is joy and peace.  Here is sweetness and rest.  Here is solitude and surrender.  We were made to worship.  We lose ourselves in His greatness.  Nothing compares to His love.

CS Lewis usually has some pretty cool things to say. 🙂  He usually says it better than me.  This is the essence of what my heart is beating right now:

“The most obvious fact about praise — whether of God or anything — strangely escaped me.  I thought of it in terms of compliment, approval, or the giving of honor.  I had never noticed that all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise unless (sometimes even if) shyness or the fear of boring others is deliberatly brought in to check it.  The world rings with praise — lovers praising their mistresses, readers their favorite poet, walkers praising thei countryside, players praising their favorite game — praise of weather, wines, dishes, actors, motors, horses, colleges, countries, historical personages, children, flowers, mountains, rare stamps, rare beetles, even sometimes politicians or scholars.  I had not noticed how the humblest, and at the same time most balances and capacious, minds praise most, while the cranks, misfits, malcontents praised least … Except where intolerably  adverse circumstances interfere praise almost seems to be inner health made audible …I had not noticed either that just as men spontaneously praise whatever they value, so they spontaneously urge us to join them in praising it: “Isn’t she lovely?  Wasn’t it glorious?  Don’t you think that magnificent?”  The Psalmists in telling everyone to praise God are doing what all men do when they speak of what they care about … I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation.  It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one anther how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete until it is expressed.  It is frustrating to discover a new author and not to be able to tell anyone how good he is; to come suddenly, at the turn of the road, upon some mountain valley of unexpected grandeur and then to have to keep silent because the people with you care for it no more than for a tin can in the ditch; to hear a good joke and find no one to share it with … This is so even when our expressions are inadequate, as of course they usually are.  But how if one could really and fully praise even such things to perfection–utterly “get out” in poetry or music or paint to upsurge of appreciate which almost bursts you?  Then indeed the object would be fully appreciated and our delight would have attained perfect development.  The worthier the object, the more intense this delight would be.”

You and I were made to worship.  I find it easy to praise Dutch. To praise Chris Tomlin’s worship songs.  To praise Nikki’s sweet mango with sticky rice.  Do I find it easy to praise my Savior?  What do I worship, really?  What do you worship?