Church Home - Heavenly Home

 For a variety of reasons, Abby and I have been looking for a new church home. We have a longing for a smaller, traditional church program where we can really deepen our faith surrounded by other believers who have a heart to serve God, serve others and live Christ-like authentic lives. We have had our fill of the superficiality, the mega-churches, the drama and the chaos of churches more focused on numbers, appearances, and being in sync with the social trends and vibes. Many of the churches that fit what we are looking for are 35-60 minute drives from home. While it is totally worth it to be able to experience God in a place that feels like home here, we really want to find something closer to home where we can get and stay connected long term. 

This morning we ended up in a familiar location somewhat near home, at a smaller church, but still a pretty decent size. We realized rather quickly that we were a minority - but that was okay! We were completely fine with the people surrounding us - and they were all so genuinely friendly and welcomed us warmly. As timing would have it, we visited this particular church on a Sunday morning when the service was being held in Spanish due to a special event at the church that afternoon. I was okay with this, because I know enough Spanish to survive and have experienced international churches where believers sang in several different languages. I was pumped. I enjoyed the experience thoroughly. However, it was a bit overwhelming for Abby, who wasn't expecting to have to use a translator or not understand what was going on around her. She said it wasn't the people at all - they were all fantastic. She just felt lost and not quite at home. It is important to me that wherever we end up is the right place for both of us, so when she got visibly upset, we went ahead and left early. The usher was so sweet about it and tried to help with suggestions, but it was just not happening this morning. 

Mid-afternoon my phone rang with an unfamiliar local number. I answered. It was the pastor of the church. He had looked for us after the service and didn't see us, so he asked an usher, who told him we'd left early. He said "What did I do? Was it something I said?" I very quickly reassured him that I had absolutely loved my time there this morning and that he had done nothing wrong. I explained Abby's experience and said that she had indicated she'd love to go back and try it again. He seemed relieved by that. I can't say enough about how warm, open, inviting and friendly this congregation was. We may not have looked or sounded like 90% of them, but I felt more at home than I had in years. I LOVED it. 

I will say, one thought did hit me as I was sitting there - and this should never be the case in a place of worship in America. I realized that being there actually put us in danger with the current climate in America. That's part of the reason I'm not naming the church or sharing the location. These people are Americans. They were born here, they work here, they worship here. But they are currently being targeted by their appearance and their language. It hurt to realize the struggles that this congregation faces on a daily basis, yet filled my heart with hope that they easily accepted my daughter and myself, as white as we are, in their church home. I had just told Abby the other day about the church in NYC where I went to speak several times, and how diverse it was. It truly was a representation of what our heavenly home will look like. The pastor today, before we left, commented on how he loved to hear three different languages being raised in worship, because it's a glimpse of what heaven will be like. Even if that is not going to be our church home, I hope Abby's experience there will leave a lasting impact on her heart. I know I will continue to hold those people in prayer as they meet for worship and Bible study and give thanks for their hospitality in such tumultuous times in our country. 

Roll that Stone Away

Have you ever heard someone say not to let anger or bitterness harden your heart? I had heard the phrase over the years, but never really understood it... until my heart had stones in it. Too many trials and obstacles hardened corners of my heart and threaten to fully turn it to stone. But... God rolled the stone away. The tomb was empty. If he can do that, He can remove the stones from my heart and make it soft again. He has - over and over again. But first I have to be willing to let Him. Having the stones removed is painful. Letting the heart get soft again despite the scars can hurt deeply. But those are temporary pains that are replaced with joy unthinkable, peace unspeakable, faith unstoppable. It's so worth the momentary pain for the Christ-filled heart that replaces the damaged one. The kicker is, the sooner we let Him remove the stones while they are still tiny pebbles, the less painful it will be. The longer we let the anger, bitterness, grief, shame, guilt and other things harder our hearts, the thicker and bigger the stone, the more it covers, and the more painful it is to remove. 

What are you holding onto that is taking your healthy heart and turning it to stone? What do you need to let go of and let Christ remove and replace?  

Mirrors and Snapshots

I still hate mirrors. I can't stand to look in them. But my kids often remind me that what I think I see in the mirror is drastically different from what they see when they look at me. 

When other people see me, what do they see? 

A mom. A teacher. A neighbor. A friend. A coach. A former athlete. Someone who is out of shape. Someone who is always sick. A 9/11 responder. A former firefighter. A babysitter or caregiver. A former EMT. A former disaster response team leader. An outdoor leader. A college professor. 

People see us for the moments we interact with them. They have a snapshot of us that formulates their opinion on us. If they have been around a while, that snapshot may look more like a video of a highlight reel, but it is still only a measurement of the times they were interacting with us long enough to form a title or name for us. 

Some people see us at our best. Others cross our paths when we are at our worst. Others see us with a lens or perspective that makes our snapshot look out of focus or like a completely wrong image. Some only see us in certain locations or environments and don't know what other spaces our lives occupy. 

No matter what that snapshot or highlight reel looks like to them, we don't have to be defined by it. 

It amazes me that some people who have had absolutely zero contact or interaction with me for 10, 20 or even 30 years try to define me by the snapshot they have of their last interaction with me. I get it. I do. But, I'm not the same person I was 10-20 years ago. Sometimes I get so caught up in trying to fix other people's misconceptions and opinions of me that I forget that I don't have to be anyone to them. I don't have to prove anything to anyone. I don't have to try to force people to change their thoughts about me. What's important is who I am to myself, to my household, and to my God. 

I know who I am. I know whose I am. I know sometimes when I look in the mirror I don't feel like I even see the real me. Sometimes I wish I could change the current snapshot I see and edit the image. 

I could look at the mirror and see my past. I can see a victim. I can see a survivor. I can see a champion. I can see a failure. I can see an angry person. I can see a woman filled with joy. It can change every time I look in the mirror. But the view people see when they look at me seems to be permanent based on the 5 minutes they spent around me, no matter when it was or what that image looked like. Frustrating as it may be, that is just how life goes. 

But when God looks at me, He sees Jesus. Why? Because Christ came and took all of those labels, titles and past images and shoved them aside to look at my heart, making it brand new. He looks at me and sees a sister, a friend, a child of His Father's. God looks at me and sees His child who took my place on the cross to make those other images get destroyed by fire. When I look in the mirror, sometimes it is hard to see Christ looking back at me - but shouldn't that be our goal? Shouldn't we be able to look at ourselves and see the fruits of the spirit at work in our lives? Shouldn't we be able to see His will and His plan unfolding? Shouldn't we be able to see love, mercy, grace, and forgiveness? 

Those snapshots and images are a part of our story. No one else's snapshots can take our story away from us. We can't change our story their lives. But we can take our past - the good and bad - and use it to help mold our future image to look more like Christ. We've been in a spiritual battle. The enemy has fought us and there are times it looked like he might win in our lives. But no matter how twisted the enemy distorted the images, when Christ came in, He wiped the image clean and replaced it with Himself.

Desperate

As I was driving my little preschool buddy to school we were listening to a local Christian radio station. An old song came on that I hadn't heard in years, but a line from the song caught my attention. The words repeated and I found myself drawn to them - "I'm just as desperate for you now as I was back then, and if I ever should forget remind me once again." 

I can remember clearly the day I invited Christ into my life as Lord and Savior. I was desperate for love. Desperate for acceptance. Desperate for healing. Desperate for belonging. Desperate for answers. Desperate for rescue. I needed Him desperately. I wanted Him more than anything I'd ever desired. I asked myself, "do you still need Him as desperately as you did back then?" 

The answer was a resounding absolutely yes. I have needed Him in every trial, every struggle, every challenge and every battle. I have needed Him to make the accomplishments mean something, to have a reason to celebrate, and to experience things fully. "If I ever should forget remind me once again" - whenever I have wandered or gone astray, something big has happened that pulls me right back to the desperate need for Christ. 

My life has been a series of traumas, some well out of my control and some due to my own human nature. There's no denying that He was there during every fire, every storm and every flood. I could spend years describing how He rescued me time and time again. But, lately I have been able to look back and see Him clearly in the joyous moments, the mountaintops and in the peace of every day. It's easy to say we desperately need our Lord when we are under fire and need protection. Being able to desperately need Him when things are going great is a different level of spiritual intimacy. 

Do you remember the day of your salvation? Do you remember the desperateness you felt and how strong your desire was to know Him? Do you still feel that same desperate need for Him today?