when God shows up

If you've been in church for any number of years, I imagine you've experienced some Sunday worship services that send your heart soaring with love and thankfulness. I also imagine that you have sat through plenty of services where instead of focusing on the words of the songs, the depth of the sermon, you're planning the schedule for the week, worrying over various big or small life circumstances, or, let's be honest, catching up on facebook. Don't deny it - I've been there.

Today was one of those Sundays where my mind was prone to wandering. I have a very (stress, very) amateur musical background, and I know just enough about worship, church practices, and theology to make me dangerously critical when I get in that mood. I'm not proud of it. It is just is. I try hard to bury it, but sometimes it creeps out.

We attend a small church. Most of the time, I love that. We don't have a lot of show, if you know what I mean. No fancy lights, no huge worship band, nothing that shouts of trying to create an emotional high that ushers people into God's presence. I am an occasional vocalist for our worship team, and while we have some amazing and talented musicians, we're pretty humble.

Whatever place I was in this morning did not lead me to embrace the humility of our little band of Jesus followers.

But you know what? God showed up.

In the midst of the congregation's hesitant (read - less than enthusiastic) response to the singing, a few sort of awkward moments, there was a stirring of hearts, a swelling of voices raised to the King. A testimony was shared, a young man moved to share about something God was doing in his life. Our pastor spontaneously adapted sermon plans and prayer times to make room for God's work. It was that thing that you can only describe as the sense that God was moving. He was there, in our midst. The Spirit of God descending on people who had gathered to declare their love and praise to Him. I found myself experiencing the grace of those moments, laid bare a bit for my judgment and hard-heartedness.

Micah 6:8 is fast becoming a favorite verse, as it crops up here and there: "He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?"

He does not require a fancy church service to draw people to Him. He does not require loud worship. He does not require a charismatic sermon filled with pithy one-liners.

He requires a people with hearts lifted to Him, ready to anticipate His movement in their lives and in the world. Ready to respond with love and grace.

freedom

Ironically, ever since I sent that email to my girlfriends who have also embarked in the 7 experiment, there has been huge relief flooding over me. And, even more ironically, the relief led to an incredibly productive weekend, including a thorough examination of the possessions in our home and a resulting pile of boxes to sell at our church garage sale benefiting an orphanage in Haiti. Before sending that email, I was a mess of guilt for "not doing enough". I was the kind of mess that brings confusion to the beautiful assurance of Matthew 11:28-30: If you are tired from carrying heavy burdens, come to me and I will give you rest. Take the yoke I give you. Put it on your shoulders and learn from me. I am gentle and humble, and you will find rest. This yoke is easy to bear, and this burden is light.

My legalistic, perfectionist self has a hard time letting go of the letter of the law sometimes. The list of shoulds and supposed tos is too tempting; a recipe for success to follow as I meander through life. But I cling to it too closely. With 7, I was expecting myself to tackle the project the way the author of the book did - which was wonderful and impacting for her. But for me in this season? It was draining me of any energy I had to really ponder the spirit of simplifying life in such a way that Jesus can be magnified. As a wonderful friend reminded me, none of it was really ever about 7, but about living together, learning, and loving Jesus more.

That I can do, in this and every season.

a letter to my 7 sojourners

Girls,

The texts tonight regarding possessions month were the final straw in my conviction to send this email. We’ve all been quiet these past weeks and there has been a lot going on. On my end, after a lot of prayer and thought about this, I think I need to admit that this is just not the season for me to devote myself to 7. I suppose this email is simply confession time. God has used these books and conversations with all of you in numerous ways and I am grateful to have heard His voice and to have been challenged in some good good good ways. I’m still processing and praying about so much and I’m excited at how God is moving in my heart. I can tell I will not be the same in my identity in Christ, how I view the purpose of church, or the purpose of Jesus followers in the world. As one of you so wisely said, now that these things have been revealed to me, it would be pure disobedience to NOT act and continue seeking what follow through looks like. I still have a list of books I want to read, and I genuinely want to continuing exploring and praying through these ideas. And yes, praying about my actions and what to DO with all of it. I’m feeling all out of sorts about where I fit in God’s work right now, especially given this season of life, but it’s a good thing, and I know He will lead and provide ways for me to love people and serve Him. I’m committed to keep blogging and thinking and praying and NOT FORGETTING.

At the same time (warning, this may sound like the whiny pity-party part), I am 7 weeks away from a gigantic family transition, and feeling emotionally thin and burdened by an all out messy house, a not-yet-put-together nursery, tasks we’ve committed to help my mother-in-law with this summer, pulling together my maternity leave plans while still desperately praying I will be able to quit, supporting my husband in his roller coaster job search and also the restructure in his current workplace, remaining connected with friends, family, neighbors and random acquaintances and responding to needs that God puts in front of me – which He has, which is awesome!… I’m already (perhaps selfishly) feeling broken and poured out in these things. All while trying to remember that God promises provision and really wanting to trust Him and thank Him for the enormous blessings in my life. I have much to be abundantly grateful for. But all of this emotional upheaval and the spiritual rigor of clinging to trust is about as much as I can handle right now; I just don’t have the bandwidth to add in going to great lengths to clear out my house or reduce waste in my life. I suppose the media fast will be forced on me considering a baby will be arriving soon. And maybe the Sabbath month will work in some capacity, considering I’ll be up in the middle of the night anyway. J I just don’t have it in me to make huge accommodations and start (more) big projects.

I will faithfully continue to pray for each of you, and would love to still hear how God is working through you in this adventure of 7. And I do want to help with the garage sale (when is it?), and contribute to other things that may emerge (community garden?). So please keep me posted so I know how to pray and share your funny stories about finding friend’s wedding invitations from 10 years ago stacked in boxes in your closets. J

And, as you read this nutty email, if God moves you to call me out and challenge me to keep going, I promise to be open to listening. The last thing I want to do is let myself off the hook and make excuses for why I can’t be some radical girl who gives away 7 items each day for a month. I hate thinking I am quitting. I invite the accountability if God so moves your heart. Maybe this is just a surge of hormones these past weeks. I’ll be the first to admit I’m a little crazy feeling.  

Your crazy friend (and thank you if you read all the way to the end of this),

Sara

there is a season

I've made a mental note that grand adventures like 7 are probably not ideal ventures to undertake when you are pregnant, praying through future job and childcare arrangements, and also have a little child (or more) running around your home. Not that this has been impossible... just hard to stick to. Or maybe I am just easily distracted.

Clothing month came and went, and while there were days I hated the few shirts I had to select from, this month was really not that different from being pregnant and have a limited wardrobe anyway. In many ways, I entered the month already feeling the convictions of placing too much importance on appearance (not that I don't still struggle with it and bow to the temptation of retail therapy from time to time). At the same time, this season of life for us doesn't lend itself to having a gigantic clothing selection with designer labels. Frankly, I haven't stepped foot in an Ann Taylor or Nordstrom for many many months. I shop at Target a lot, where I can also pick up a new shirt, shampoo, some organizing bins, and dog food without having to make multiple trips (which require the loading and unloading of a toddler from the car each time). We're already in a season of trying to simplify and reduce, for the sake of sanity.

I did read a really interesting article that Jen Hatmaker (author of 7) posted on facebook: The Afterlife of Cheap Clothes. It made me think twice about just what to do. Clearly simply cleaning out my clothes closet of the things I don't really need and dumping the pile at Goodwill is not necessarily the automatic answer. They have an excess already, too. So instead, I've been thinking more specifically about who I can give these items to. For example, I think we're at a place where we can give away all the baby girl clothes our daughter has outgrown. Instead of Goodwill, I think I'll contact the Pregnancy Resource Center and see if they have need, or even ask around amongst my friends to see if they know of anything expecting a baby girl who might want some almost good as new hand me downs.

So that's clothes.

July is possessions, which is one I had eagerly anticipated and still am hopeful for. But, two back to back out of town weekends, plus the holiday, plus, well, life, and my hands and feet are still not yet in step with my heart in this area. My goal had been to go through our house looking for the items that truly are excessive. Games we never play. Extra toiletry bags for travel. Toys we've outgrown and won't need for number 2. Books I'll never really read again. That mango cutter that sure is a neat idea but never seems to work correctly for me (the 1 or 2 times a year I actually buy a mango and remember I have the mango cutter). I also had the idea of gathering the items and selling them in a garage sale, with the intent of donating the profit. That has actually evolved into what will likely be a church-wide garage sale, with the proceeds going to the orphanage in Haiti that I served at along with others from my church in the fall of 2011.

Writing this all down, it sounds just as tiring and uninspired as I currently feel. I suppose some days and weeks are like that, though, and truly, if the things I've been thinking and praying about are a movement of God in my life, I suppose I should expect some discouragement and wind-sucked-from-my-sails feelings. Wherever God is moving, isn't the Enemy taking special note? I've never been one to really go there in my interpretation of events and my feelings, but the more my eyes are opened to the spiritual truths behind every day life, the more I see how the Enemy does not want truth spoken, realized, lived. Guess I need to polish my armor a little bit (Ephesians 6), and pray for endurance.

Wouldn't you know it, this was the reading in Psalms for today's Bible reading:

Psalm 143:7-8
Answer me quickly, O Lord!
My spirit fails!
Hide not your face from me,
lest I be like those who go down to the pit.Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love,
for in you I trust.
Make me know the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.

Amen.