to the man in trader joe's parking lot

Sir, we were both standing right there. Obviously the dent in my car is from your car door and the white paint is from your shiny little car. This all happened when you were opening your door to unload your groceries. I don't so much care that you have left a dent in my car that will cause me to remember this day for many months to come, but I care that you would stand there and lie to my face shirking all responsibility of this unfortunate event. And, I'm sorry you feel you need to lie about it.

Whether you are going to apologize or not, I want you to know you are forgiven. You certainly aren't the first to leave an indelible mark on Holly Honda, and likely, you won't be the last. But my heart breaks just the same... and, it's not breaking for my car, sir. It's breaking for you...

no, but i'm here

A woman came to the door of the church today and rang the doorbell. When I answered the door, she asked if there were any pastors available. I sort of smiled knowing our senior pastor was headed out of town, the youth guy was away doing an internship miles from there and even our small group coordinator was leaving on a trip. So, that kind of leaves me...but I'm not really a pastor. So, I said, "Well, no we don't have a pastor here right now, but I'm here. Can I help you with something?"

For that moment I longed to be able to say, "Well, I'm one." But, I can't. And, there is so much tied up in that little word. So much theology. So many stereotypes. So many opinions and ideas. So much so that I often choose to dismiss its importance. Usually I don't much care what they call me, just let me keep doing what I love...until that moment that it mattered. In that moment my response seemed to be missing the same credibility that would be lacking if they asked for a doctor on a plane, and a someone else stood up and said, "No, but I'm here."

And, honestly, I still don't much care...until another moment comes and a woman stands in front of me and says "Are there any pastors available?" And, I have to say, "No, but I'm here..."

stood still

the sounds of thunder rumbled through the skies. the first drop of rain found my cheek, the second my arm, and the third my nose. clouds were closing in, and there i stood.

drip... drip...

i looked down to see specks of moisture now painting the sidewalk. and, still i stood there.

drip. drip. drop. drip. drip. drop.

picking up intensity, the precipitation continued to fall. my jeans were soaked. they were holding in the water as if they didn't ever want to let it go. my shirt pushed the rain away at first and then began to absorb it. and still, i stood there.

drip, drip, drop. drip, drip, drop.

as the rain cloaked me in water my mind wandered. there was a freshness. it was as if the spring rain came and removed all of the dirt and grime that had built up within me during the past months. and i stood still.

drip, drop. drip, drop. drip, drop.

completely drenched. completely clean. standing completely still.

shooting at great things

my sister-in-law introduced me to the fine world of bubble shooter this past year. i play it when my brain needs some time to chill out and think. this mindless game gives me something to do as i work through the endless thoughts that accumulate in my head. i seem to be getting better at the game, and i'm not sure if this is a good thing or not. i usually rejoice in achievement; however, i wonder if the improvement i am making is more of a testament to my increased skill or the multitude of hours i have spent thinking while playing bubble shooter. in any case, i think i may have discovered something. i think the key may be to give up good shots in order to find and create great ones. sounds like a book that has been hitting the top ten lists in business circles. also, sounds like a good principle for life. i wonder how many times i grasp at good things when the Lord is calling me to look for the great ones.

finals week

Two giggling girls with way too much energy and far too many pages to study pranced through the newly fallen snow. North Hall's lawn was like a fresh canvas. Just over fifty windows had clear views of the area making it a prime location to share a message with the college community. While howling with laughter, these students plotted trying to conjure up the perfect message. With all of the rebellion they could muster, four feet began to plod through the blanket of snow leaving an imprint for all to see.

SKIP FINALS

lending strength

On my counter sits a sparkly, red travel mug. It's been sitting there for a couple of weeks now. Every time I do dishes with all my might I try to get the lid off of it so that I can scour it and put it away. But every time my strength fails me. I was thinking about how awkward it would be if I called upstairs and said, "Hey Angela! Is Trevor home? Can I talk to him, please?" I imagine that after a hesitant "Ok?" Trevor would come to the phone at which time I would say, "Hey Trevor, I need to get this lid off of this cup. Do you think you could come help me?"

Every now and then I am reminded of how we are made to be in community. Not one of us has all the strengths needed to successfully navigate through this life. Though in this culture independence is highly valued, I've come to believe that interdependence is of much greater worth. So, I suppose I should have no problem calling Trevor to ask him to lend his strength. But, for some reason, I will probably leave the cup there for a couple more weeks. Maybe it will loosen up over time... (she laughs).

i'm not sure i can do that

She stared at the object of her angst. Fear ripped through her as the scenes from last fall played through her mind. It seemed just a few days had passed, but in reality the snow had come and gone since then. Her black curls swam in the air as the spring breeze made its presence known. Her daddy's hand gently guided her as she took a few steps closer to her purple bike which was also scarred from the accident. Just below the handlebars a scratch drew attention to itself disclosing the shiny metal that was just beneath the surface. With much coaxing, she climbed on the bike believing that the inevitable was about to take place. Tears began to collect in her eyes and with all her might she tried to push them away. Her tight grip on her daddy's hand reduced the blood flow to his fingertips.

"Honey, you have to let go..." a voice whispered in her ear.
"I'm not sure I can do that," she said as hot tears streamed down her face.
The voice repeated, "Honey, you have to let go."
"What if I fall again," she said.
"I'll be here to pick you up," said her father.
"That's not good enough, Daddy. I want you to hold onto me so that I don't fall again!"
"Oh, my beloved daughter," he said with tears in his eyes, "I'm not sure I can do that..."

earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal

a couple of days ago i posted the lyrics to a hymn that resonated with my heart. today another has found me. i've been thinking about why i love hymns, and i have come to believe that it's because they tell us our story. i could go on and on about how we need to hear our stories again and again. but for the sake of this post, i'll just say that i think God in His great wisdom knew that we would so quickly forget our stories. so, He commanded us to return to them again and again. to tell them, to write them, to live them, to rehearse them. and, i think the great hymn writers knew that. so, as i listen to hymns written years and years ago, i am caught up in the beauty of the poetry that describes just where i am today. here's another one: "Come Ye Disconsolate" which means "Come you who are hopelessly unhappy or you who are deep in despair." and, in case you are wondering, Indelible Grace does have a beautiful arrangement of it which i have been enjoying very much today.

"Come Ye Disconsolate" words by Thomas Moore, 1816

1. Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish,
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

2. Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure!
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
"Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot cure."

3. Here see the bread of life, see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above.
Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing
Earth has no sorrow but heaven can remove.

Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish.

i shall want to go someday

today was one of those days. a day that followed a sleepless night and consequently didn't start until around 11:00 a.m. a day that i learned one of my dear friends had been in a serious accident. a day which held heavy thoughts regarding job. a day of overcast skies and snow. a day when i would prefer to eat just chocolate and peanut butter and skip every meal. a day with a lot of posts all with a tinge of melancholy. a day i don't wish to repeat.

and, after a day like this, i'm thankful for the hymn i've just come across. a hymn that gripped my heart. it doesn't hide from the hurts of this world, but it also holds the glimpse of hope we as Christians know. so, i close out this day in my pjs with a good book, and with Indelible Grace's version of "Beams of Heaven" written by Charles Albert Tindley (1851-1933).

1. Beams of heaven as I go,
through the wilderness below,
guide my feet in peaceful ways,
turn my midnights into days.
When in the darkness I would grope,
faith always sees a star of hope,
and soon from all life's grief and danger
I shall be free someday.
I shall be free someday.

2. Often times my sky is clear,
joy abounds without a tear;
though a day so bright begun,
clouds may hide tomorrow's sun.
There'll be a day that's always bright,
a day that never yields tonight,
and in its light the streets of glory
I shall behold someday.
I shall behold someday.

3. Harder yet may be the fight;
right may often yield to might;
wickedness a while may reign;
Satan's cause may seem to gain.
But there's a God that rules above
with hand of power and heart of love;
and if I'm right, he'll fight my battle,
I shall have peace someday.
I shall have peace someday.

4. Burdens now may crush me down,
disappointments all around;
troubles speak in mournful sigh,
sorrow through a tear-stained eye.
There is a world where pleasure reigns,
no mourning soul shall roam its plains,
and to that land of peace and glory
I shall want to go someday.
I shall want to go someday.
I shall want to go someday.

building an army

Two days ago I learned of the events that led up to Rev. Fred Winters death on Sunday morning. Last night I read an article about the sad, but true facts concerning Christianity in America. And, just now I read one man's predictions regarding Evangelicalism in these United States. On one hand all of this information makes me sad, but mostly it makes me angry. What has happened to us? What has happened to people setting aside time to be in the Word and passionately pursuing a relationship with Christ? What has happened to the Church? Where are our priorities? Who decided it was more important to be a club that everyone likes instead of an army that proclaims truth? When are we going to get up and start fighting?

I don't know if Michael Spencer's predictions are correct. I don't know if the trends found in the polls will continue to decline. I don't know if there will be more shootings like the one that just took place in Illinois. But, I do know a God who sees this as no surprise, who has all the strategies needed to turn hearts to Him, and who is able to strengthen us to fight this war. I don't know where His sovereignty stops and where our responsibility begins. But, I do know that Scripture blatantly tells us that we will be persecuted if we are following after Christ. And, I trust Him. So, let's get to work friends. Let's put on that whole armor* of God and get ready for what is coming. David Stark recently said, "God is going to build an army, not an audience." And, I for one think he's right.

*13 Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. 14 Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, 15 and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. 16 In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; 17 and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, 18 praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, 19 and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, 20 for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak. (ESV)

heartbreaking and tragic

My heart is breaking for the family of Dr. Fred Winters and the congregation of the First Baptist Church in Maryville, IL after the tragic events which happened yesterday morning. I'm encouraged by the words on their website:

In this day, where uncertainty seems to abound creating an environment in which people are vulnerable in doing things they might not do otherwise, one thing is certain, we, as human beings need a foundation upon which we can live our lives. We at First Baptist Maryville, along with other Christian believers, share this conviction: that foundation is God’s Word. In the pages of the Book we call the Bible, we find the pathway for peace, hope, and a quality of living life despite what circumstances we find ourselves in.

In moments like these a short prayer often comes to mind "Do something amazing! Please, Lord, do something amazing." Believing in a God who redeems tragedies and uses evil for good helps me to find peace and hope in the midst of these sorts of situations.

[sitting in silence]

Not wanting to steal any of the attention, I hesitate to even add my own thoughts to this. However, since this is my blog and therefore my perspective, here's a quick blip from me:

This shakes me up a bit. And, as I consider what this may have looked like inside the doors of the building I serve in, specific faces come to mind. And, I would like to note just how dear these faces have become to me. The Lord has blessed me with a wonderful church body to call my family, and I am so thankful. In some strange way, as I sit here and consider dear friends who will soon pack their bags and head halfway across the world to begin a lifelong ministry to a people they dearly love though they haven't met, I am even more confident that where I am is where I need to be. In a place where we have the freedom to worship though little-by-little it isn't as safe as we all thought it would be.

And, I join with the family of believers at First Baptist who invite those of us who believe in the power of prayer to pray with them...

pitching tents

"Alright. I'm here," He thinks as He looks around. The grassy area was covered with tents. He'd known this trip was coming for sometime now. Though He could have hidden all sorts of luxuries in His pack, He'd decided against it. Instead He came with nothing. He found the nearest sports store, chose a commonplace tent, went back to the camping ground and pitched this new, canvas shelter. Just like everyone else, He hammered in each stake ensuring that the elements wouldn't push it over in the middle of the night. When He had finished He stepped back to look at it.


This morning as I read from the first chapter of John, I became intrigued with the Greek word translated dwell. It means to dwell or to pitch a tent. And, as we go back to the Old Testament, God meets with His people by dwelling in a tent. A holy tent. One with specific instructions and regulations as far as its size and shape and the material it was to be made from. But, it was a tent no less. The imagery of Christ pitching a tent to live with us for a while has been dwelling in my thoughts all day.

I love the way the New Testament compliments the Old. I love that we serve a God who was the same yesterday, is the same today, and will be the same tomorrow. And, I love that He cared enough for us that He shed His heavenly mansion to come down and pitch a simple tent just to be with us, just to know what it is like to live in our little campground.

Yeah, that's the God I serve. The one that put skin on for a while. The one that dwelt with us.

snow emergency: a missed opportunity

I'll be honest. I'm tired of cold bathrooms, Snow and Ice Melt, and fogged up glasses. I'm weary of scraping my windshield, seeing my breath, and sliding around on icy walkways. I've had enough of the frigid temperatures, the enduring snow, and the leafless trees. But the reality is: I live in Minnesota and it is February. I didn't move here because I was crazy about cold weather and endless winter. I moved here because I felt called to do so. And truth be told I'm quite happy to be here, to be a part of my church, and to call this wicked cold corner of the world "home."

This morning my alarm went off before it normally would. It's Friday morning which is normally a day to turn off the alarm clock and go back to sleep. Above me I heard my neighbor rise from her bed as well. I dragged myself out of my warm covers and comfy pillows, put on a pair of jeans, my glasses, a fleece, my winter coat, some boots, mittens, and my hat, and then journeyed outside into this wintery day. My car was covered with snow, but so was everyone else's. In my sleepy stupor I looked around at all of my neighbors. People I don't often run into. Across the street was my neighbor who just minutes before was in her bed in the apartment above mine. And, warming the truck next to her were my neighbors who live in the next house down who I have yet to meet. When I finally pushed off the 6-9 inches of snow (which didn't seem like much after the Massachusetts snow storms from a few years ago), I climbed in my car to move it. However, it didn't much want to move, so I got out and scooped around the tires like my father taught me to do. I then got back into my car and inched forward until I got stuck, and then went back a few feet and tried all over again. Finally, with success, I moved my car about a block from my home, turned it off and locked the doors. I passed several people as I wondered back home. People I'd never seen. People who live a matter of feet from me. As I neared the house, I saw my landlord cleaning off his car and chatted with him for a minute. Then I slid my way back to my little apartment.

As frustrated as I was that I had to get up early and go out into the cold to avoid having my car towed, it was very clear to me that these are the moments I should be living for. Moments when we as people all have a task to do. Moments when I have the opportunity to interact with those around me. Moments when there is little pressure to communicate which somehow makes it easier to say a friendly "hello." And really, I guess it is no surprise that the Lord would provide mundane events like a Snow Emergency to give me an opportunity to begin to build relationships with those whose lives intersect with mine. After all, His Son's life intersected with ours when the Child came and began life in a barn.

bring it on lent!

I've been scurrying around since January trying to get all of the pieces in place for Lent. And tomorrow, the season begins. This weekend it dawned on me that though the worship program I lead is nearly ready for Lent to begin, my heart is not. So, I've been thinking about what Lent is going to look like for me this year. What am I going to give up? What do I want to add? For me, Lent is a time to give up something that keeps me from or hinders my relationship with God. I know a lot of people who give up coffee, chocolate or dessert, not that those are bad things to give up, but currently they aren't keeping me from growing in relationship with the Lord. I remember reading a story shared by Lauren Winner. She is an avid reader, and one year the Lord asked her to give up reading for the season. For her, this was what consumed her time and what kept her from communing with the Lord. A few years ago, I gave up secular music for Lent, and then decided to give up all music for Holy Week. I could play piano and sing, but I couldn't listen to anything that wasn't live. It was a quiet week. And, it was a really rich Lenten season.

So, this year -- the question has remained for a couple of days -- what am I going to give up? I had already decided to give up listening to music while driving (which I do a lot of) when I read this blog post and this blog post both by Anne Jackson. Because I hanging out here on my blog actually draws me closer to the Lord, I'm not going to give it up. However, I've decided along with music during car rides Facebook needs to go. I'm honestly not looking forward to the loss of this piece of communication. It can be a useful tool in ministry as well as keeping up with my friends who have moved all over the country. However, it is also a time waster that sucks up hours that I should be spending with our Lord.

So...there it is. Once this is posted, I guess I can't change my mind. But that's ok. Bring it on Lent! And, bring it on Lord! I'm looking forward to seeing what He will do in me as clear out a little technological clutter during these next 40 days.

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So what are you going to give up? Any stories from past fasts? I fear the Western Church doesn't encourage this spiritual discipline enough....

less than everything isn't anything anymore

I've been thinking a lot about the economic strife our country is going through as of late. I've been thinking about how we live beyond our means and how we have redefined "needs" to include things like internet, five pairs of jeans, a nice car, a large home with wooden floors instead of carpet and two freezers instead of one to store more food that we don't really need at our waistlines anyway. I've been thinking about how the rest of the world lives and how they seem to be so much happier than we are. And, I've been thinking about what God must think of all of this.

And, it kind of breaks my heart.

Because we have gotten so used to surplus that an abundance is still not enough for us. Because we have gotten so used to having everything we want that less than everything isn't anything anymore. Because we are a people that mocks those who don't have PDAs as though paper is inferior. Because we as a very rich nation tithe poorly, spread the Gospel poorly, and are so concerned about ourselves that we make decisions within the doors of our church buildings as though we are self-important kings.

And, we aren't.

We are a part of a greater Body. A Body that transcends cultures and economic lines. We are a part of a Body that desperately needs to quit thinking about themselves and head out into a hurting world. A body that needs to get over the possibility that we might get our hands dirty and not get paid for the most important work that needs to be done.

What will it take for us to quit thinking about our precious IRAs, savings accounts, and barns full of treasure? What will it take for us to open the doors of our churches and receive those who take more money and more energy?

Lord, have mercy on us for we have sinned against you by what we have done and by what we have left undone.

Oh, Lord, have mercy.

drenched

and then grace drips all over me. it's like being in a spring rain when the drops tickle my face, soak my clothes, and hide my tears of joy. and my little feet begin to run as i immerse myself in the pleasure of the raindrops. i spin around again and again lost in the moment i find myself. and in exhaustion and absolute delight, i sit down. laughing. reflecting. crying. enjoying. praising.

oh Father, thank you for the rain.

opinions, expectations, and unobvious change

With Sarah Siskind singing from the other room and a paintbrush in my hand, today I reflected upon my life. It's really a wonderful life. It's a life of freedom and chosen simplicity. It's a life of doing what I love and loving what I do. It's a life of rich friendships in this city, in this nation and in this world. And, I wouldn't trade it.

However...I really enjoyed watching my brush dance across the wall. As I trimmed the edges, the rhythm of the strokes became an enjoyable pattern. And, when I completed the job, there was an obvious difference - one with which I am very pleased. My mother wouldn't have chosen this color, but I did. People from other circles may have thought it was ridiculous to repaint a room that didn't need to be repainted, but I wanted to. Some probably would have preferred that I paint more of the room if I was going to go to the bother of painting, but I'm quite happy with the amount I chose.

So, tonight, as I sit here and consider the gratification that came from this task, I'm reminded of my blog entry last June about mowing the lawn. And, I think that being in ministry with so many opinions, so many expectations, and so little obvious change sometimes gets a little tiring. And, for those days, I'm gonna reserve a room to paint or a lawn to mow.

Then, the next day, I will go back to my office and dive into the opinions, expectations, and unobvious change. Cuz that's what I am created for. And, it's really a wonderful life.

a triumphant gust of wind

The bridge lie in ruins. Though the villagers had worked for years to create access to the main island, all the work they had done was taken out in a flash of lightening and a triumphant gust of wind. Their dreams of grandeur where a splintered like the pieces of wood that now floated down the river. The villagers were so distraught that daily they came to look at the empty place where their masterpiece once neared completion.

A strapping gentleman from one of the tribes who came from the Northern part of the island came to town one day. He watched as the villagers stared at their non-bridge, the gaping wound that dashed their dreams. With charisma he began to speak to the villagers. He told them that with the small amount of money in their town treasury, he could fix the bridge. Not only could he fix it, but it would be more beautiful and more brilliant than before. He promised wood that wouldn't splinter and beams that wouldn't break. He promised that every dream the villagers had could be fulfilled if they fixed the bridge. By repairing what was broken, the villagers would be able to reach the main island, and once they reached the main island, not only what they needed, but everything they wanted would all be there for the taking.

All the villagers believed the man. He spoke eloquently and moved with grace. For every concern they had, he had a smooth answer. Soon, the villagers began to follow the stranger. Rather than putting their hope in the bridge, they put their hope in his ability to fix it. Rather than putting their faith in the main island, they put their faith in the man who promised them their dreams would come true. Rather than working to repair what was damaged, they waited for the man to bring this wood that wouldn't splinter and these beams that wouldn't break.

But, he was just a man.
No God-like powers.
No superhuman strength.
No bridge-building skills.
Just a man with a little charisma....and a few too many promises.

the moments i live for

I want to take a moment to say, "yay! Wells Fargo!" I opened a new account today and was greeted by a kind woman behind the teller window. She waved down a woman to take care of me. And, take care of me, she did. As I sat at her desk, we exchanged stories. She told me about her adventures moving here from Africa, and I told her about my job in ministry. She told me about her three beautiful little boys and about falling on the ice last night. She was so amused by her story of falling that she laughed until she cried. I laughed right along with her as she painted the scene and told me about her son calling his father on the cell phone and telling his dad that his mother was crazy.

She then began to tell me about living in Africa, meeting her husband, and in three days deciding to marry him and come to the States. In two months the course of her life drastically changed in a way that she couldn't have predicted. She told me about how God had moved, and how she was sure that God had opened these doors for her. She talked about the incredible peace that came from the Lord as she was obedient to marry this man she had known for less than a week. She left her family and has now been married to this wonderful man for seventeen years. I can't imagine. I feel like that is a kind of faith and trust that I know little about.

In any case, I was moved by her story. And, as I was sitting there in her corner office listening to her beautiful accent, a peaceful feeling came over me. These are the moments I live for. The moments that for an instant provide an opportunity to look into the life of another and reflect upon how God is moving in their life. The moments when in the monotony of my day, my gaze is redirected toward the Creator of the Universe. The moments that I hope might mimic Heaven just a little bit. Moments like this, when two sisters meet, share some laughter, and enjoy the stories that the Author of Life has been diligently writing for His glory.

And, all of this happened at the bank while I opened a new account. If you happen to be opening a new account at Wells Fargo, let them know I sent you...and thank the beautiful African woman whose story still causes me to praise our Lord.

meaningless, meaningless...or maybe not

"Hold out your hand in front of your mouth," said Laura. "Breathe." I did.
"Did you feel something?" Well, yes, I thought.
"Do you feel it now?" No.... And, our conversation on Ecclesiastes continued.

I must confess that when "meaningless, meaningless" is uttered, my thoughts go to Ecclesiastes. These words paint pictures in my mind of a time in my life when getting out of bed, getting groceries, and getting the mail all proved to be enormous tasks. A time when hopelessness seemed to prevail. However, when we look at the actual Hebrew word found in the Old Testament, the word "meaningless" doesn't entirely capture the idea being expressed. Some translations use the word "vanity" though that doesn't really embody the original Hebrew either. Perhaps the best way to understand the word is to look at the end of Ecclesiastes 1:14 where the writer discusses chasing after the wind. Is chasing after the wind meaningless? Well, yes, but there is more. The wind is only here for a second. It is brief. So to chase after it is vanity as we will never catch it. The idea behind the Hebrew word found in this passage is best rendered "a breath." It is quick. It is not lasting. The writer isn't wallowing in a depression pondering the sorrows of life. But instead, he is like us, searching after things that are fleeting.

Okay your turn. Hold out your hand in front of your mouth. Breathe. Did you feel something? Do you feel it now?