Canticles

Funny how I can pray in the morning for the Lord to fill my day and then go the next eight hours without even a wink in his direction. I get frustrated and tired and I keep thinking that there is some secret cure for my ADGD (Attention Deficit for God Disorder). I am not sure there is a secret cure but I discovered something this week.

   I finally downloaded a message from one of my favorite churches. The lady speaking talked about how she  found the habit of daily praise. She was at a conference and the speaker would stop randomly and say 'Praise the Lord,' or 'Alleluia." She thought it was pretty weird until the speaker explained that she had an invisible clock strapped to her waist that would vibrate and remind her to worship God every 10 minutes. 

Ingenious!

While I haven't gone out and purchased my little waist watch, I told Hank about it and we have started to remind eachother. He randomly said "God is Good" a few days ago and I looked at him funny. Well yes He is but what brought that up?? He told me he was trying to learn to worship. 

So I went outside today to eat lunch and watch the storm clouds gather over the city and He brought me all kinds of reminders of His presence. Birds flew up into the trees right near where I sat and they sang and perched proud of their beauty. 

And He brought rain- something that makes my heart glad. 

And in the midst of the sporadic worshiping (because I do still forget a lot), he is changing me. This job I struggled to have a good attitude in, he is giving me JOY. The impatience I tend to have with people, He is giving me Love. The dissatisfaction I sometimes feel with life, He is reminding me that He works all things together for GOOD. 

So Praise him. In canticles and car problems and hope and in heartbreak. 

Little Dreams Big

I used to want to be an actor. When I was nine. And I was so angry when my parents encouraged me to maybe find something a little less outlandish. So I decided to be a missionary. Or more- God gave me a deep-rooted desire sown in my heart under a starry sky in Mexico. And oh how that desire guided me for so long. It even became my identity.

In America we ask people what they do. It is one of the first questions of small talk and it creates a suddle pressure to have a good answer. What do you do? Oh I am just finding the cure for cancer while volunteering at the local food bank and teaching Sunday school and raising the next Bill Gates.

I was always so proud of my answer. It became a large part of my identity. So much so that I contemplated very seriously breaking up with Hank due to his 'lack of a calling.' It sounds horrible and it is, but my passion for missions had consumed me to an unhealthy degree. I didn't know who I was without it.

Last year I lived my dream. It was amazing. I got to teach ESL, live in a foreign country with some of the most beautiful people I have ever met and share the Love of the Lord with some of the coolest students-become-friends ever. And yet, part of my pined away for my sweetheart. I thought life would be perfect if we could one day get married and then live the dream overseas.

It is still a deep desire and I still think it would be pretty awesome.

But why is it that I am never quite content where I am? Why is it that I always want the next stage to come on and get here?

I have a job and a husband and a house and a garden. But I hate the job most days and neglect to clean the house or water the garden. I praise God for both in the morning light but when they start to need some TLC, I offer it only begrudgingly. Sometimes I do the same with my husband. He gets the dregs left over from a day of helping people who rarely say thanks.

And i think that maybe if we could just live overseas, I would find more fulfilment in my work and have energy to clean and love and more of a burn to worship and grow.

My goodness I must have a short memory. Because I never felt like cleaning last year and would regularly procrastinate on lesson plans and when there were over 200 students to love, I often felt discouraged and empty and frustrated. I often bemoaned all the aspects of the culture I didn't agree with or couldn't even begin to understand.

No, there is no perfect place. There is no perfect phase of life.

But there are gifts for the taking today. There was a beautiful woodpecker to watch at the park and several hours just to sip too-sweet coffee and work on lesson plans at the coffee shop. There were resources to use to teach refugees the alphabet and there was rest and energy. There was a long overdue visit with my best friend and her adorable family and hours to just talk and explore other-worldly parks lit with fireflies and legends.

There were conversations with beautiful grandmothers and a beautiful mom and there was time to burrow deep into the Word for rest and healing and hope. And there is God's never-failing and never-changing character and the compassion, mercy, love, and kindness he shows me daily.

And I am going to keep dreaming big but perhaps I will keep my small dreams bigger. I will rejoice over clean laundry and the tasks that get checked on the daily list. And I will rejoice over what I can't see yet and the promise that the future will be good, hard but good, and that I do not go alone.

Finding a Family

       Have you ever had one of those days that is so full of peace and joy and happiness that you just want to savor it like a good piece of chocolate or hit replay like you do that song you love? Well, folks, I had one of those days yesterday.
       Hank and I got ready for church- read, ate, dressed and got in the car. We were headed to visit a new church to see if it would be 'home' but as usual we were running a bit late and this always makes me stress out- even if I am to blame for the tardiness.
      We got to the high school where the church was meeting and walked in to the sound of Hillsong worship and folks singing. The band was made up of an older playing bass- who looked like he'd climb astride a motorcycle any minute, four ladies singing, a young guy on the guitar, and a middle aged man playing drums. Last week we both agreed that the service we went to felt a bit like a performance, but there was no performing here.
     After the service, at least 8 people came up and said hi and actually talked to us. I am fairly accustomed to having people shake my hand but usually that's all that happens. These people actually wanted to get to know us! What in the world?!
     So we talked and people were really excited to see us and to welcome us to the neighborhood. We walked out under the sign that said "You are now entering your mission field," that someone had hung above the door. I liked that being the last image of church. A reminder that it doesn't stop there.

Some of the people at the church told us about a city-wide worship gathering that evening so we decided to go.
       That evening we showed up at the church down the road that was hosting it. I had suggested maybe we skip because we went grocery shopping and were going to be late. But Hank said no, we were going and I am so glad we did.
      We walked in, both feeling a sense of expectancy. In all my years being a believer and running with the church crowd, I had never heard of churches coming together for worship- and they do it four times a year! Yet, as I walked in, I realized I had been longing for this.
      There were people from every different background you could imagine. There were people from the Spanish church, from the charismatic church, from the non-denomitional church (does anyone else find irony in the fact that Non-denom is a denomination?). The black gospel church was well represented. There were sweet little girls twirling around with flags in the aisle next to me. It was INCREDIBLE!

        The seats were nearly all full but we finally found one. It didn't really matter though because we never sat down. We were all up on our feet in full out praise for the entire hour and a half to two hours.
        When I say the Spirit moved, he MOVED. It was so incredible to see people in this city I am just beginning to call home, call on the same Lord and praise his name with passion! On the stage, the incredible beauty and diversity of His people was seen. There was even an older "hippy-lady" singing on stage with a fake sword she would pull out and wave around.
         The sword reminded me of this: we were doing battle. Our singing was releasing angels to fight for His Glory. Our singing was breaking down walls and letting him further in. It wasn't the words or how good they sounded or even the emotional high we got. It was the fact that we were willing to stop everything and be romanced. We were there to lavish love upon our Sweet Jesus and feel him lavish love on us.

I can still remember the first time Hank and I got caught up in eachother's eyes. We just sat there, right in the middle of the Bucket List, and stared at eachother. It wasn't awkward- it was awesome. Those eyes were windows to his soul and I was speechless at the affection I saw in them for me. And that is how I felt last night. It was like all I wanted to do was sit there and stare into His eyes- the eyes of a Savior who only knows love towards me, towards us. He only has good things planned, beautiful things. My Jesus is the creator of beautiful, afterall.
          So many times, when I am at church, I am so focused on singing right or looking the right way when I worship. I worry about what others think so much. At some point last night, I realized it was enough just to enjoy the process. It IS enough to just sing and smile and be filled with joy. The rest doesn't really matter. There is no magic formula. He LONGS to be with me, to enjoy me, to fix his gaze upon me and for me to do the same. It's that incredible heart-connection you can't put in words.
     And it is so good.

So today I am basking in the beauty of a God who waits for me, at the inner court, just to spend some time listening to me and talking. And I know, even as I write this, that he is smiling. Because he loves me, he loves you, and he just loves watching us be who he created us to be.