Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Beauty has a place
May I please point out our beautiful new blog header? Designed by our own Hannah in the church office, the new header explains what we are about around here. Our blog exists for the women of First Baptist Church, but not because of them. We always want the blog or any other Womens' Ministries endeavor to point us back to the Creator, the maker of heaven and earth. Anything that's only about us will turn ugly before long.
The beauty of the earth praises Him. It shows us that He loves beautiful things. Since we are like Him, we like them too. That's why I want the blog to be better-looking this year. As long as we seek Him, we can honor Him with beauty. It might be a fine line to walk, but I hope He will bless the striving this year. We want to have pictures and pretty colors and all the things that bring beauty to the screen. In the end, though, we want to encourage each other to seek Him out. Above all else. Our beauty depends on it.
So the new banner is a great start. When you see Hannah tell her how good it looks!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Welcome Back Fall!
Okay, y’all, I’m back. It’s fall, and I’m geared up. I hope you are too.
I know by now you’re starting to feel like you’ve heard it all before from me, so I thought I would lay out for you some of my goals for this space, and then you can hold my feet to the fire over getting them done.
Here’s what I hope you will find when you visit the blog this year:
- Encouragement
- Bible-study jump-starters that you can use when you have those stolen, quiet moments
- Pictures of our Women’s Ministries events (Though it’s going to take a little longer while I develop the technical skills. God will have to create something out of nothing for sure!)
- Book descriptions coming soon: Radical and Hole in the Gospel as recommended by Linda in last month’s newsletter. Call me if you have a suggestion!
- A sense of enthusiasm over being a woman at First Baptist Church Pensacola
That’s right. I’m not satisfied with us being resigned that we go to church together. I’m going for something closer to thrilled. It’s okay that Jesus is the only thing we all have in common. He’s enough. And if He’s all we share we are in good shape.
So that’s what I’m going for at least once per week. I am hoping for twice per week, but as I mentioned yesterday, I’m a woman in transition. But truly aren’t we all? To be a woman is to be in transition. Let’s cut each other some slack and enjoy what we are able to bring forth by God’s grace.
I am praying for you, for us, that we will learn to love each other. That He will teach us and not we ourselves. Take care, and I’ll see you Sunday!
Holding My Breath
Hello, friends! Happy Fall. All that rain finally left and, momentarily, took the hottest heat with it. So nice to be able to take a deep breath outdoors!
I have been thinking about breathing lately. Waiting for school to start always feels like holding my breath underwater. I know the relief is there, but I can’t feel it, until suddenly there it is! And then the running around panting starts and doesn’t let up until Christmas is over.
Anyway, that’s not why I have been thinking about breathing. Over the summer I did a lot of painting. I’m not very good at it, but I’m trying to get better, and I noticed that I get a much steadier line next to the trim if I hold my breath.
Now, when there is painting happening at my house, it usually indicates a time of transition. We have historically either just moved or are about to move. We are buying a house or listing a house or moving furniture to accommodate a new baby or a growing-up baby. The household is in an uproar, more so I mean than the usual clamor.
We are not one of those families where one person makes all the decisions on wall color no matter how much I have hoped that we would be. So if someone is finally painting that means that we are at the end of some major, ahem, discussions.
Discussions of this nature are also strained by the circumstances surrounding whatever life change we have just undertaken. New cities mean new churches and schools and jobs. Uncertainty prevails and patience is low. Conversations about paint become deeply personal, filled with hidden meaning. One person will feel like their breath has been wasted on whatever input the other person didn’t follow. The silences between the discussions are often syncopated by deep sighs or exasperated huffs. All of these things take up oxygen.
When I noticed that holding my breath made my painted line go smoother it hit me that holding my breath might make all the paint color negotiations, and therefore the life transitions, go more smoothly too. I wondered whether the Bible might say something about breathing being related to speech. Because, you know, maybe it didn’t, and then I could go back to sighing until I got my way.
Alas, the Bible did have much to say on the subject of breathing, and it was a bit more serious than I was prepared for.
I found several references to God blasting people with the Breath of His nostrils. Or clearing ground with his hot breath. So first of all, yikes. It did not in any place that I could find mention anyone besides God doing this which indicates to me that it’s not okay for people to use breath as a rebuke. Or it’s only okay if you’re holy already, which definitely leaves me out. So much for blasting people with my hot breath over the color of the laundry room.
Also dismaying was how closely linked the words for breath and breathing are to the same meaning as what we would think of as our spirit or soul. It’s the essence of you that goes when you die and leaves behind your lifeless body. I’ll spare you the Hebrew words if you’ll check out the following verses:
Psalm 33:6, 104:29-30 (God’s breath or spirit lives in us.)
Psalm 135:17, Jeremiah 10:14 (Nothing we create holds any spirit or breath.)
Isaiah 42:5, Ezekiel 37:1-14, Daniel 5:23 (God gives the breath of life. The Ezekiel passage is especially vivid. The Daniel one especially humbling.)
Psalm 146:4, Ecclesiastes 3:19 (The breath He gives us is temporary.)
Let’s just say that whenever I look for simple little self-betterment texts in the Bible, it almost always reveals the pridefulness of my nature. In other words, in connecting my breath to my speech I was thinking too shallow and too small.
My breath indicates a connection to my Maker. It is the essence of His life in me; it’s the tangible presence of His creative force. Each time. Ponder that for a minute. Each breath is His gift. Just because I have one breath today does not mean that another will follow tomorrow.
Having read these, I just want to be much more careful how I dole them out. With each breath am I giving life or laying waste? Do I create or destroy? Am I giving relief and refreshment or something different?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Changes
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Holiday Stress--Own It!
Hi there! It’s mid-December. Do you know where your Christmas presents are? Having two holiday birthdays in our family means that I often struggle to keep up with all the presents I’m supposed to be responsible for this time of year. I do pretty well with the presents, actually, but those birthday cards that come in the mail from the long-distance relatives don’t always stay where I put them.
It happened this week. I lost a birthday card from Nanny in San Antonio. It had money in it and everything. I found it already--just in time for the party. Not soon enough however to save me from having a complete come-apart.
Have I taught y’all that word yet? Come-apart is a Dothan term for hissy fit. Otherwise known as a howling spell, but the kind that the less spoiled rotten of us have. It may present with light tears or a full-on falling down kicking and screaming on the floor kind of thing. I usually throw myself crosswise across the bed, but, you know. It varies.
I was clicking along through Thanksgiving with all kinds of major important tasks to hold down and check off. I won’t say I was fine, but I was praying through it. Not having quiet time exactly, but definitely letting God in on my days. Then one little temporarily missing birthday card sent me into full-blown meltdown.
Now you think I’m going to chastise you with all sorts of verses about being still and the joys of simplicity. But I’m not. I’m going to ask you a question.
Does it really make sense for us to try to relax during the holidays? Women? Sisters, daughters, mothers? I ask you. Is this realistic? Or is this one more way for Satan to guilt us into immobility? Doesn’t the birth of the Saviour mandate celebratory sorts of behavior? Should we be daunted by the extra work and the estrogen levels it brings? Or is this the kind of celebration that merits our above average ambitions?
Here’s another question: Which honors God more? A woman who flies apart over a birthday card, and, in order to avoid more such episodes, decides to forgo any further once-a-year stress-inducing activities, like cooking Christmas dinner. Or a woman who cries the tears, considers them a normal reaction to the battle she is fighting, and after having dried them continues on in a manner worthy of her calling. With God as her witness, she embarks on an unapologetic, riotous, highly decorated season of feasting in honor of her Jesus come to earth. Complete with appetizers and hand tied bows.
Can we defend our amped-up activity levels during the holidays? Biblically, I mean.
Well, let’s see.
In defense of Christmas cards: Phillipians 1:2-3, 7-8
In defense of meal planning: John 6:4-5 (See? Planning ahead for meals is a Christlike endeavor. When great multitudes of people come to visit, they have to eat.)
Re-read John 2. (It has always seemed to me that this first miracle taking place at a wedding meant, among other things, that Jesus is okay with our celebrations of life. This time I had to laugh at what a prominent part Mary plays in this story. If she hadn’t stepped in would this have been the first miracle? Do you think she was stressed out on behalf of her friend? Was she trying to save the family some stress?)
I know. You don’t have time right now to read. That’s okay. You’ll catch it in January maybe. Or April. Whenever. God has time for you to spare.
One more question: Can God handle your stress? I dare say He can. Don’t forget that. He may not want you to stop working, stop doing. He may want to transform you through the very force of your efforts. He may want you to tap into His power to do more than you would have thought was possible. Every memory of the holidays is an altar to remind future generations that what you believe is worth the celebration. We don’t make a big deal out of it. It is a big deal. It is worth the stress. Worth the tears. Worth the battle.
Go work hard right now. Hang in there. Do your absolute very best and whatever that entails at your house in your family. Jesus surely deserves it.
Take care. And Merry Christmas!
Monday, November 9, 2009
More encouragement to pray
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Do You Pray Better Than a Fifth Grader?
First off, my apologies if this title makes your stomach tight. I know, and you know, that prayer is not a contest. If you’re praying at all, you’re doing it right. However, I had a prayer experience this week that had me thinking about that game show where the grownups compete with school children and the way that some things change and some things stay the same, especially concerning prayer.
Let me explain. Wednesday night at Awana we did a prayer walk. If you have ever helped with Awana, or been in the church when Awana was going on, then you know that it is not for the faint-hearted. Combine an after dinner hour in midweek with confined spaces and varying degrees of hunger and hosility. It makes for a sweaty, cranky bunch. They all need to get a spanking and go straight to bed. I’m talking about the leaders mostly, but some of the children too. It serves the purpose, I guess, but it’s not pretty. You don’t automatically think, “We should try a worship service.” Unless you are Miss Jean. For last week’s activity time, we had a prayer walk in the chapel.
I’m no stranger to prayer walks with children. It’s one of my favorite tricks for burning off that last 30 minutes before parents come to pick them up from VBS. It gets them moving, changes their scenery and lets them do something real. As I said before, I think that all prayer is real whether or not everyone has their eyes closed or is quiet or is pretending to be a ninja or whatever.
My Wednesday night attitude, however, doesn’t generally allow for a lot of creativity or good feelings or flexibility. I need to get in the zone and get the job done. So full of myself and my humanity, I marched my three little charges up the giant staircase and into the chapel to pray without ceasing for thirty minutes until I could go home.
It was pretty much as I had expected. They were into it for a while. They took turns reading the cards and bowed their heads. But then one wanted to go this way and one that way; they started fighting over who could stand where. One had to go to the bathroom, and one wanted to pray for her family members, specifically and in great detail, at every single station. More and more groups poured into the chapel and started moving through the stations. The volume level went up. Some got a bathroom break so we did too, and then we got done with the stations and sat down on a bench to wait.
Maybe it was the low lighting. I started looking around and watching and got that still, small feeling in my chest that God needed me to pay attention. Y’all, I’m not kidding. All those children walking around praying reminded me of us. You know, the grownup church. They were jockeying for position. There were fights over who got to be in a group with whose friend. Some think they can’t pray, and some think they really can. They were bored. They had the world weariness of a group of God’s children who have seen it all and done it all but are too weak to do anything different.
Usually these displays of our fallen nature render me sad and depressed, but this time somehow it made me smile. I can’t explain it. I think Jesus showed up for the Awana prayer walk. Those children, they were beautiful. They laughed and fought and talked and walked and complained and wrote and hugged and hit each other. They prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed. And they were us.
They prayed even though they were bored. A few were into it, but most prayed because there wasn’t anything else to do and someone was leading them. You could tell they weren’t going to pray when they got home. Isn’t that just like us?
We will never grow up. We will continue walking, fighting, posing and pretending. We know that everything we do is temporary and we want to do something real. And that is why we must pray. Prayer brings Jesus down from the realm of eternity into our everyday. Grace falls and changes us, as they say, from a common use to a holy use. I tell you if God can make me smile at Awana, He can make your kitchen table glow like the ground under the burning bush. Like the faces of the children in the chapel. I think the glow is always there. The glow is His presence. It’s just that when you pray, He invites you to glimpse it.
Just in case you’re not convinced I’m adding some verses on prayer that I’ll be mulling over this week. Join me, won’t you?
Luke 11:1 (A good catch phrase. To be repeated several times a day as needed.)
Luke 18:1-17 (The publican probably is most closely related here. How cool that it’s attached to the story about Jesus and the children. Have you ever been taught the story of Jesus and the children as being about prayer? I don’t think I have.)
1 Thes. 5:17 (Always a friendly reminder!)