cool

The website he mentions. That's Craig. He's the pastor at LifeChurch.tv.

And Rosa Loves is a pretty cool idea.

delayed

I have seen The Passion of the Christ twice in my life.

The first time I was still Saul. It was a corny church out-reach effort and I knew it, but Holy Spirit was stirring something inside of me whether I liked it or not. I went. I squeezed my eyes shut for half of the feature, and wondered at Jesus being such a good-looking guy for the other half. I cried. Not because my Savior died in my place, but just at the inhumanity of what He - as a man - suffered for whatever reason.

I was pretty sure I didn't believe it, but after having seen that, "pretty sure" wasn't enough. I needed to decide if I believed it was real. It just seemed like a lot was at stake: not a lot of me, but a lot of Him. I wasn't frightened of hell in the least, but I was nervous about wasting His sacrifice.

The second time I was already reborn. I squeezed my eyes shut for half of the feature, and wondered at Jesus being such a good-looking guy for the other half. I cried. Then I got up to lead worship with seven people in the room - five of them on stage.

I did a mental survey of all the worship songs in our repertoire and none were enough. None said anything of value. How could I stand behind a mic, under pretty lights, and - after all that - sing, "Thanks, Jesus - Ya, ya?"

We tried, because it was all we could do. We played one song and then we just played those same four chords over and over and over again. All that I could think about was how ridiculous it seemed to stand on a stage and say "Thanks" for that.

"Thanks" is what you say when someone hands you a receipt. "Thanks" is what you say when someone tells you they like your haircut. "Thanks" is what you say when the bank teller dryly instructs you to have a nice day. "Thanks" is not what you say when the King of kings leaves heaven for a manger, is marred more than any other man, and breathes his last breath in your place on a lonely cross.

So we played the same four chords over and over and over again. And eventually all I could sing was all that was in my heart, "What can I say, and what can I do, but take up my cross, and follow after You?"

simon says

This is awesome. Granger Community Church in Indiana played Simon as one big team, as a sermon illustration last Sunday. You can really only see the green team on this, but there's a better version on GCC's website.

worship

I think I worshiped God "in spirit and in truth" for the first time yesterday ... on accident ... in my car. Maybe it was the first time I really worshiped at all. Maybe not. Maybe it was a new depth of worship. Whatever it was I didn't expect it.

Yesterday was not my best day. It wasn't even my best Monday. I sat in my car for 10 minutes during lunch and cried. Not my shining moment.

After work I sat in my car outside our apartment. My keys are missing. I think I left them at church, but either way I couldn't get in at 5:16 yesterday when I got home. I sat in the parking lot and waited for Timothy, reclined the driver's seat, and skipped the CD to a slow track.

She started to sing, very quietly, with nothing but a piano. I want to play the strings of Your heart, God, come play the strings of mine. I want to sing straight to Your heart, God, come sing straight to mine.

My goal was not to encounter God in that moment. I did not even intend to "worship," as with singing and the lifting of hands, and I knew the next lines were a declaration of God's ownership of her heart.

And I couldn't relate. I have that problem with a lot of Misty's lyrics. Does He really have my heart, or is it just a nice song I sing? Does He really have my heart, or is it what I'm supposed to say when, really, I give parts of my heart to other things first?

As the song swelled she started to sing again and I sang along almost habitually. You have my heart. Lord, You have my heart. Lord, You have my heart, and I am searching for Yours.

As Condemnation began to whisper about what a liar I was, I gently remembered that my God "gives life to the dead and calls those things which do not exist as though they did," and I sang the rest of the song as a prayer - calling to life the passion, obedience, and desire that lay dead within me.

I'm so in love with You.

I didn't have to try to stuff down memories of the bad day I'd had. I didn't have to strain to temporarily forget the problems I'm facing. I didn't have to concentrate on exalting the name of Jesus above my circumstances because my circumstances were not even an issue.

This moment - this random moment, reclined in the driver's seat of my car - was about aligning my heart with the heart of God. It was about setting my steps to the rhythm of His pulse, chasing the vision reflected in His eyes. Somehow everything else just faded away

like I think it's always supposed to.

religion

The Wildesign staff was having a conversation recently about the role of the Church in our turbulent society. Where is the line between relevant and Biblical? What do we do with the prevailing negative attitudes toward our faith? Vast questions to which there are no established answers.

Of a staff of 10, nine are Christians. One is Hindu. One of the Christians asked the Hindu what she thinks of "all this."

I wish I had a recording that I could now, days later, transcribe word for word because her response was astoundingly depressing.

She talked briefly and awkwardly about how she believes some of the things we believe. And Christians in India? Their religion is influenced by Hinduism. Religion is more about geography and tradition than unraveling the mysteries of the universe. It's more a facet of one's existence - a relatively inconsequential one as long as you're a nice person - than a foundation for one's existence. She believes what we believe, she just believes more. Jesus was probably just one of many times that god manifested on earth ... but whatever, "as long as you don't hurt anyone."

I sat there and three thoughts went through my head in rapid succession:

1. A quote from Seth Godin, "Religion is a tool human beings use to amplify faith ... and eventually we often forget about faith."

2. A statistic from UnChristian: Among young adults outside the Church, 84% say they know someone who is a committed Christian. Only 15%, however, thought the lifestyles of their Christian friends were different from the norm.

3. How do you communicate Christ to someone with that mindset?

Am I living like a disciple? Or is it just a job I do? I'm not a secretary when I go home. Do I leave my religion at church like I leave my inbox at the office? Am I in the 15% or the other 69?

Because it is important to live like a Christian. It is vital to build relationships with unbelievers, but as a pastor I admire once preached, "You build a bridge of love before driving a truckload of confrontational truths over it." Sometimes the bridge is enough - not that the bridge is even easy. Sometimes people will see the bridge and walk across of their own accord.

Sometimes you need the truckload of confrontational truths.

decent

And in the midst of it all I think I'm supposed to be learning how to rest in Him.

Because there may never be rest in anything else. Until He comes back and He is all there is, there will always be turmoil. There will always be unrest. Wars and rumors of wars. Unsatisfied longings and vacant desires. Wars and rumors of wars within me.

Because there is a part of me that seeks harmony.
Between body and spirit, flesh and Blood.
Between me and Love. Wars and rumors of
wars within me, but do not fear, He says.

Rest. Watch and wait and rest.

Because we are to be like men who wait for their Master. We are not to grow weary. And in the midst of anticipation and hesitation, uncertainty and disharmony, I am to rest.

Because what greater faith is there than this? That the wind and the seas roar around me and I stand in the midst of it because my eyes are focused on Him. All He requires is my unwavering gaze and He makes the waves firm beneath me.

pause

It's that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when a roller coaster just barely makes it over a peak. Not the first one, because that one you slowly clunk up to. The second one. The one that's designed to get as high as it can get and the cars get slower as they get higher and with just a moment to really capitalize on the anticipation

it dives.

And you know the dive is coming, that's why you don't freak out.

Or when you think you're at the bottom of a set of stairs but there's really one more waiting. You probably pull a funny face because it catches you off guard but you don't scream because it doesn't last that long. By the time you've inhaled you've also arrived so it's not a big deal. But there's that feeling.

Or when someone who calls himself a friend but who really wants to see you dead finds himself on one of those big trampolines with you. You're bouncing along, minding your own business: up and down and up and down. You know how long it will take to hit the mat again until your foe manages to time a jump just right and send you flying. You flail like an idiot and hopefully don't scream like a little girl, but you come back down. There's a moment, though, when you're as high as you're going to get and you just

stop

midair as gravity finally overcomes velocity and pulls you back down. And it's in that moment that you get that feeling.

The feeling is fun because it ends quickly. It's like a single hiccup, or the build-up to a really good sneeze.

But what's really awful is when the sneeze doesn't come. When you can feel it in your nose and you sniff and squint and rub your nose in all directions but it doesn't come.

The feeling is fun because it ends quickly.

Usually.

I've been living in that feeling for the past few days. Every moment I have to sit still I'm suddenly aware that the roller coaster never dropped, the last step never came, and I'm still - somehow- suspended parallel to the roof of the house. I can feel it in my stomach. That obnoxious anticipation.

It's everything. Yes it's the house, but it's so many other things - none of which I can or want to publish. I feel like my entire life got flung into the air and someone hit Pause.

house update

We're not down for the count just yet. Our realtor is a very smart lady, and our God is a very big God. There is hope yet for the house we thought was lost, and in the meantime we've decided to be like Joshua and Caleb who gave a report based on the promises of God and not what they saw with their eyes.

i'm okay to talk about it now

Without crying at you. I know how awkward it is when I cry at you.

We're not getting the house.

The inspector found a bunch of problems. Many were little, two were big.

1. There's water in the basement. The back, cement patio is slanted toward the house, so water builds up and leaks in. The drywall going into the basement is as saturated as it can be. Fixing the problem means pouring concrete under the existing patio to slant it the other way, replacing the drywall by the back door, and removing the mold in the basement.

2. The bathroom is in similar condition. Grout was not maintained between the bathroom tiles, so the drywall around the shower is soaked as well. If you push the tiles, the wall caves in a bit. It's bad. It means tearing it all out and replacing the drywall and tile (which is all over the bathroom).

We said we'd take care of the little stuff if the sellers can lower the price so we can get the big stuff fixed when the weather permits. They refused. (And I just found out their realtor made a comment to ours about how they can't understand why we can't "work out" this stuff.)

So we canceled the appraisal this morning, canceled the insurance quote, and informed the landlord that we probably won't be moving out at the end of the month. And I just signed a form to cancel our contract with the sellers. We'll get our earnest money back, but we're out several hundred for the inspection and the attorney review.

And we're going to look at a couple new ones tomorrow.

I'm okay. I cried for about a minute, but I've been more confused about it than anything else - trying to figure out where God was in all this. We thought we were hearing from Him. Were we wrong? Were we robbed via free will? Is there a miracle coming still? I wish I knew, but I figure:

If we were wrong, His mercies are new every morning and He turns all things to good.
If we were robbed, our enemy must repay seven-fold.
If there's a miracle still on the horizon, we're reminded it's not by our strength.

I can say all this and sound really spiritual now because my husband deterred me from calling down plagues Moses-style on 118 Wisconsin last night. Everything's cool.

the rumors are true

I haven't been here as much and, yes, I've disabled the comments. Why? Because I don't value your opinion.

Just kidding.

I cut off comments for purposes of my own spiritual growth. Please don't email me about my blog. You can email each other about it, you can twit it, digg it, link it to your own blog ... just please leave me out of it.

Thanks. I'll post some real content perhaps tomorrow.

hmm