desperation = redemption.

'Looking at his disciples, he said:
"Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who hunger now,
for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
Blessed are you when men hate you,
when they exclude you and insult you
and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man.

"Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their fathers treated the prophets.
"But woe to you who are rich,
for you have already received your comfort.
Woe to you who are well fed now,
for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now,
for you will mourn and weep.
Woe to you when all men speak well of you,
for that is how their fathers treated the false prophets."'
Luke 6:20-26

The words of Jesus constantly posed bold and uncomfortable challenges to the status quo. This time was no different. In a culture dominated by the lust for happiness, popularity, and material blessing, Jesus went against the grain and stated that the poor, the hungry, and the desperate were the ones to be admired. It was almost as if He were saying the people that we try to pity are the ones we should strive to be like. How can this be?

Even as Christ-followers, we spend so much time trying to look like we have it all together - like once you accept Christ, everything's golden. We know that isn't true, but a lot of us go to great lengths to keep anyone else from finding out.

The reality is, we are to embrace our need for Him, not cover it up with false glory, perishing riches, and empty laughter. He is saying, “This need that makes you weep, keeps you hungry and thirsty, and brings mockery on your head is to be celebrated, because I have come to fill it. Blessed are you who believe Me, who do not fall away on account of Me, who weep now because of Me – because the day is coming when all tears will be wiped away and remembered no more.

“But to you who ignore this deepest desire, who go to great lengths to silence the thought that "maybe there really is something more" – woe to you, because you will never be filled.”

It seems we have a choice to make. Will we continue to act like we're just fine, or will we be honest about our desperation? Will we live the lie of self-sufficiency, or will we actively rely on Christ's all to redeem us?

two reunions.

I attended a reunion today...the kind of reunion that only happens when a tragedy has occurred. People who haven't seen each other in 7 or 8 years gathered today to grieve the loss of one extraordinary guy.

There was another reunion on Monday night - of a very different nature. An event that caused us to grieve here on earth led to a reunion of perfect joy somewhere else.

How can that possibly make sense to us - really? How do we reconcile that? I have no idea.

Here's what I do know. Justin Cope was extremely gifted (as a musician, as a teacher, as an actor, as an...everything), he was consistent (everyone had the same opinion of him - energetic, thoughtful, kind to everyone - a joy to be around), and he loved the Lord. Loved Him.

Here is what else I know. Justin can now see the bigger picture. We can only see through a tiny little window where we're at, but now he can see with Heaven's eyes, and it all makes true and perfect sense. He has looked fully into the face of One Who loves him, and he has new eyes. They're still perfectly brown, but new nonetheless.

I very much wish I had been there to see this reunion. Can you imagine? I'll bet, for a second, it was like looking into a mirror...Cope always had his Father's smile.

And there he sits, playing the king of all acoustic guitars (something in the Heavenly Taylor series, I'm sure), looking at the bigger picture and finally understanding things. Billy Jones and I laughed as we thought about how much Jesus must be enjoying Justin's antics right about now. He's writing new and wonderful songs, goofing off with Gabriel, and rooting for Tennessee...

The time of Justin's life will know no end, nor grief, nor sorrow. But it will know many, many joyful reunions.



See you soon.

silence.

in the aching
i speak to myself what i think you would say.
but my voice sounds flat.
thin.
weakened by words that i do not understand
and hardly believe.
i would rather be mute than false.
but if i go silent, will you speak up?
or will silence once again take
hostage our conversation?
i wonder if it will be the silence of doubt -
what needs to be said? -
or the silence of peace -
it goes without saying-.

healing...?

20 years of walking on egg shells gets you used to pain. The sense of dread becoming ordinary is at once both tragic and comforting. Though your nerves are constantly on edge, you aren't aware of what it used to feel like to be relaxed, calm, unafraid. This is your life now. Why wish for anything else? Why hope for what cannot be?

Suddenly, the light, fragile egg shells become glass. It tears, cuts, makes you bleed. Your feet become calloused and unfeeling as you get used to this new ground. You've forgotten the feel of grass, and even if you were walking on it, you wouldn't recognize it. Your nerves are dead. In an effort to save what little softness of your heart remains, you put up an impenetrable armor that keeps the bad - and the good - out. You have to take care of yourself, right?

As He leads you into the green pastures, you see but cannot feel...How long will this part of the journey last? He sits beside still waters and invites you to join Him, but you remain standing, hesitant. Can you really rest here? You see the sun, but its warmth cannot get through your armor.

There is only one thing to do to resurrect this life. You must lose it.

So you shed your skin - your entire outer being - like Eustace's dragon, and come forth soft, pink, raw. You blink in the light and shiver from the sudden warmth of the sun. The cool grass underneath soothes your feet. Tears fall as you realize the darkness of the valley behind you. You look down at your new hands that were once cut and bleeding, and see that He has not allowed the rocks of the valley to scar you. In your mind's eye, you can still see deepness of the wound...but He has surely healed it. Or has He?

Sometimes just the remembrance of a wound is enough to make it bleed again.

etcetera.

I walked into a mailing establishment today to purchase a stamp and mail my car payment. This establishment shall remain nameless (it was not a post office). I walked up to the counter after being greeted by the apparent owner with a "What can I do for you, darlin'?"

"I need to buy a stamp, please."

"Alright, that'll be 55 cents."

I blinked at him. I was expecting him to laugh at his obvious and insipid joke, but I found only silence. Is it possible that he was serious? I guessed I'd better check.

"Why?"

"Because that's what I charge."

Crickets chirped.

"For a 39-cent stamp?"

"Well, I can't charge you what I pay for them!" His tone was becoming more insolent with every syllable.

Oh, right, naturally. One has to make a profit, so it's quite right that one should charge almost 50% more for a POSTAGE STAMP. What kind of profit is 16 cents?
And of course, I couldn't say any of this. Mere words of wit are no match for premeditated insanity.

hearts.

As the music continued to create an atmosphere of peace and freedom, I looked out over our congregation. On the left side, I saw a young man who recently lost his father in a tragic accident – the kind that you want to think doesn’t really happen to anyone. He was bent over, sobbing into his hands, and two ladies I work with but don’t know very well were with him, comforting him as they may. The first had her arms around him, and the second was standing over him, crying as well, with one hand on his shoulder and the other raised to God for help.
On the right, I saw another young man, recently married, being prayed for by one of my close coworkers. I had not seen my friend in direct ministry before, and to witness this exchange was changing and precious.
Incase you had any doubt as to whether there are any people in the church who are truly genuine…there are. These are the hearts I serve with. I am blessed to know them, to support them, to learn from them. May they be blessed in return.

eternity.

They put me in a chair that resembled a shabby desk a middle-schooler would be forced to sit in every day, and put a tourniquet on my arm. After sticking me and finding that my vein had magically disappeared, they spoke together of having to do it again. I found that I could not move my head and began to lose feeling in my body. And then...

It was brief, but I remember the clean, bright light illuminating the room in which I now stood. I was calm, serene, because I saw Him. Saw Him. He was there. Near me, in white, saying something to me. I think my heart could distinguish the words, because I felt peace and pleasure. I wanted to stay there, close and reconciled. Then, suddenly, I could hear myself speak, and my voice sounded frightened - an emotion that contradicted the way I felt in that room. Then the image of Him vanished and I began to see two very different figures, flashing in and out of darkness. My ears were immediately deafened by a ringing coming from somewhere within my head, and I was aware that I was crying out for help but could not move. "Oh Jesus, help me," I repeated, trying not to yell. Broken sobs escaped from my lungs as I realized the vision had been just that, and the reality was that I was stuck in a place I didn't want to be.

Did I die? Is that what death will be? A white room of peace, joy, and nearness to the One I love? The closeness to Him was enough for me to stay for eternity.

legacy.

I've been thinking about this a bit lately...about how important our actions and words are, how they affect the next generation, how they affect eternity. It's heavy stuff to think that I might be completely wasting the time I've been given on this earth by doing frivolous things, like centering an entire day on what TV show I'm currently addicted to, or spending hours at a time on MySpace, etc. When I take a minute to think of what I'm actually here for, I am ashamed of how much time I've wasted toward things that have absolutely no eternal value. I don't take enough of those moments.

I was encouraged this week, however, in being reminded that a lot of times, God takes the little things we do - passing moments of kindness, a word of encouragement, being faithful to just show up...you know, things we don't necessarily plan out - and turns them into powerful moments that can enact life change.

I am blessed to be a friend of a truly wonderful family. The Mitchums are some of the kindest, loving, and most compassionate people I've ever known. Plus, they're some of the funniest folk to be around, and that's always a bonus. If you're ever looking for some entertainment, get one of them to tell you a story. You couldn't write this stuff in a sitcom.

Anyway, recently they suffered the loss of Mr. Mitchum's father, Walter. I met Walter for the first time about two weeks before he passed away, and even those few moments make for a good story that I will always remember. I stopped by the hospital room, hoping to see one of the Mitchums, but instead found Walter alone, semi-conscious. I couldn't just leave, as I was sure he had heard me ask the nurse for his room. So I went in, introduced myself, and took his hand. I think my instinct was to try and shake it, but he grasped my hand, held it for a few minutes and said, "Well, you're a number one sweetheart!"

In the celebration of his life a few weeks later, I learned that Walter was a man of very few words. And I do mean a very few. I realized that I needed to cherish the moments I shared with this man, even though what he said may have been prompted by the amount of morphine coursing through his system.

The stories shared during the ceremony painted a picture of a very colorful man that I now regret I had not gotten to know earlier. When Fulton, Walter's only son and namesake, got up to speak, the first thing he said was, "I'd like to talk about one of Dad's finer qualities: his flexibility." I judged that this was not entirely true, as the crowd immediately erupted into laughter.

It was clear that Walter loved his wife. I saw a picture that Travis took about 4 years ago, and Walter looked so happy laughing with his wife that, for a second, I thought I was looking at a pair of 20-year-old newlyweds rather than people about to celebrate their 61st anniversary.

Even though Walter never said very much, it was clear from the stories of friends, children, and grandchildren that this man had made an eternal impact on many lives. As far as I could tell, each of the 3 kids and 6 grandkids were all children of God, and I think Walter had a lot to do with that. He taught them about hard work, honor, faithfulness, and loving God, and they all loved him in return...hey, even the cows loved Walter.

I see a man like that and the eternal effect of the way he chose to live his life, and I am blown away. I'll bet he had no clue how much he would change the lives of those around him...how much the little moments he shared with his grandkids and the words he spoke to his family would mean later, and how they would shape the character of so many.

Many, many people are reaping the benefits of the way Walter lived his life. He instilled a tradition of kindness and compassion in his family, and even now, just by being in relationship with the Mitchums, my life is being affected by Walter's influence.

It's incredible to think what all God can do with a heart that is truly after His own...

So, the moral of this story is, don't watch 24. It will ruin your life.

joseph.

I've known the Nativity story all my life, but not until this year has it really seemed "real" to me. I think the movie helped, to be honest...if you haven't seen it yet, you really ought to. It's beautiful. I was extremely moved in seeing the relationship between Mary and Joseph fleshed out. It moves so quickly in Luke that it's very easy to forget that these were real people with real emotions and struggles. I've spent years thinking they were super-human or something, but now I think differently. While I know Joseph was not superhuman, I do believe now that he was an astounding man of God.

I mean, look at it - here's this guy who's in love with this girl, and then, though she's told him she would marry him, she's suddenly found to be pregnant. Bless his heart, he must have felt so betrayed. Crushed. His heart stomped on. And yet he does not lash out and accuse her to justify himself, like many other people would have done (and certainly would do today). He has in mind to "divorce her quietly"...that in itself is amazing, considering that we now live in a culture where gossip is prevalent in almost every conversation. How easy (and perhaps temporarily gratifying) would it have been for Joseph to spread rumors in an effort to make himself look better?

If Joseph had done that, he would have been directly standing in the way of God's plan to save the world.

The movie helped me understand exactly what Joseph had to give up when he accepted God's plan for his life. First off, this guy obviously truly loved God or else he wouldn't have done any of it. He gave up his reputation by taking Mary as his wife (making people think that he had slept with her after all). He didn't sleep with her at all until after Jesus was born, as a matter of fact. And it was clear that he really did love her, because he basically gave up his honor to protect hers...and to support her completely in what God had called her to do. He traveled a heck of a long way to his hometown and found a place for Mary to give birth once there. He was a protector, a provider, and a strong, faithful, obedient man of God.

I am now currently looking for Joseph's modern-day counterpart. I know a few of them, but they are already married. The fact that men like this exist at all today gives me great hope. :)

Merry Christmas to you.

eulogy.

Leslie Frank Molter, my grandfather, died on September 14, 2006. He lived for a full 89 years in Garden City, NY, and Chapel Hill, NC. A graduate of Colgate University, he met his first wife and had three children by the age of 40. Five years after his first wife died, he was set up on a blind date with Martha Irwin Gadol, my grandmother, who was also a widow of five years and a mother of three. The picture taken of that night has been on their nightstand for years…appropriately, their theme song has always been “Some Enchanted Evening”.

Martha and Les married within six months and had two more children. I don’t know that there has ever been a more blended family than this one. A real Brady Bunch, as it were, and it worked. Martha and Les showed no favoritism. Everyone was treated and loved equally, and that is still evident today. 8 kids, even more spouses (ex and current), 17 grandkids, and 6 great-grandchildren, and everyone genuinely likes each other. It is really a unique thing to see, and I pray that I am able to pass this legacy on down to my children as well…

My grandparents have always been wonderful, but I didn’t begin to pursue my own relationship with them until I was 18. It was then that I was going through my parents’ separation and was in need of some stable family relationships, so I began to visit Chapel Hill on my own frequently. The last time I remember talking to my grandmother was around New Years’ of 2001. We had a conversation about Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, and for the first time I felt like I was finally beginning to tap into the years of knowledge and wisdom that she had. I never got to this point with my mother’s mother before she died…I was always too distracted with playing with my cousins and just doing the kid-thing. Anyway, I remember my grandma telling me that she was going into the hospital the following month to have a routine procedure done regarding a lump they had discovered.

During this procedure (if I have the timing right), she got some sort of infection, went into a coma, and after a painfully drawn-out time of waiting, died in the hospital. I saw her for a few days while she was unconscious…my uncle Steven constantly went through the rosary beads with her. I read some excerpts from Canterbury Tales and sang to her. I spent a few days at the hospital and tried to help my aunts and uncles with the sadness and weariness they were experiencing. We were all helpless to do anything. The problem, whatever it was, couldn’t be fixed. She was surrounded by her eight kids when they finally removed the ventilator.

I still miss her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My grandpa (Papa, as everyone calls him) held up well for the following 4 ½ years. He was faithful to buy everyone Christmas presents, which was impressed for an 85+-year-old. He continued living by himself in the house, went bowling weekly, took a walking class after he fell down once, and made himself breakfast and dinner every day. I visited him once over a New Years’ and we did nothing for three days but play Gin Rummi and make a daily trip to Wendy’s over lunchtime for a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger and a Frosty.

I always had to warn any friends I took to meet my family that, at some point, they would probably have to sit through a 30-minute interrogation with Papa. He was the most inquisitive man I ever met. The questions just kept coming, and he remembered every answer given him. It was an exhausting ritual, but he never forgot a face or a life story, and that meant a lot to everyone who met him.

Last Tuesday at 2pm, I received an email informing me that Papa was basically dying of liver disease. The doctor had given him 2-6 months. I was really surprised. I knew he had been declining over the last year and a half, and the previous week my aunt Leslie (the nurse) had moved him into her house so that no one would have to worry about him falling down again, but I had no idea his health was this bad. I planned a trip to see him within the week.

On Thursday at 1, my dad called to tell me they had taken Papa to the hospital at 4am that morning. I got in my car, quickly handed some things off at work (thanks to my fantastic, flexible and kind coworkers), and started driving to Chapel Hill, preparing myself for another situation like Nana’s.

He died an hour before I got there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How did this happen? How did he decline so fast? We were going to have a 90th birthday celebration in less than two months! Now we’re preparing for a funeral? Now I have to gear myself up to bury the last grandparent I had on this earth?

I spent the next four days in Chapel Hill while my extended family slowly trickled in. Each day I experienced a deep sadness that I did not expect. I wasn’t extremely close to Papa, but I guess when it’s someone who’s always been there your whole life and has always been kind and stable and suddenly he’s gone, a void is created. And now they’ll probably sell the house that I’ve always known as “Grandma’s House”, and my reasons for visiting one of the most beautiful cities in this country are starting to vanish. My heart breaks for my family. I experience trouble breathing. I grieve.

We all grieve in different ways. Aunt Michelle cuts and arranges flowers. Barbra cleans and cleans, happy that there are no objections to her finally going through the refrigerator and kitchen closets. I find myself desperate to write and process what’s happening before my eyes. Then there’s Steve…stoic, strong and steady. Left to steer the ship in his 3 brothers’ absence and take charge of all the arrangements that suddenly must be made. The pilot goes into auto-pilot until the busyness is over and reality sets in.

We all do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The memorial service was beautiful. Done in the same place my grandma’s was…the Newman Center of the UNC campus. Tom, Steve, Dad and Michelle each gave brief, beautiful eulogies. We then went to my grandma’s gravesite, where my grandfather was also to be buried. They put the urn in the ground, and all 8 siblings, as well as many of the grandchildren, took turns gently shoveling dirt over the urn, the hat that my cousin Tara sent from Ireland, and the flowers that were placed in the hole.

Closure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was 4 or 5 years old and my parents would take me to visit Chapel Hill, Nana and my parents would catch up with each other while Papa would make little peanut butter-and-Ritz sandwiches for the two of us to feed to the little inhabitants of the toy castle they’ve had since the 60’s…

A few months ago, I had a weekend off coming up and I thought I would use it to visit Papa. So I called him up and said that I would like to come up for a few days to visit within the next couple of weeks. “Where are you gonna stay?” he asked me. “Um...with you?” I hadn’t thought this would be a problem. “Oh no, you can’t stay here!” he said, and explained that he was set in a routine and having people in the house stressed him out. I was surprised and only a little offended…I mean, how many people get dissed by their own grandfather?

A few days later, Steve called me and said, “I heard from Papa…you poor thing.” Apparently Papa had left him a rather ornery message, which Steve saved for the next several months. I heard it two days ago.

“Yeah, Steven. Sarah just called me and invited herself to stay with me for a few weeks. I told her no. You’ll probably be hearing from her soon.”

If I had understood what the misunderstanding was, I would have gone to visit him…oh well. It’s still pretty funny.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closure.

Sort of.

I still have trouble breathing. I still experience moments of deep, inescapable sadness, and I am still surprised by it.

I have seen the grace of God all around me in the past week. Phone calls, messages, endless support from friends and coworkers...I have been amazed. And I firmly believe the family will continue to love and like each other. The foundation has been established...can it be shaken now? I don't think so.

Peace is still needed, though. Comfort. Perhaps the passing of time will bring true closure. Or perhaps heaven alone can provide it, when we meet again and finally understand the whys and wherefores.

Either way, I am thankful to feel these sorrows. To have known such love and acceptance from someone, and to know the grief over their loss. I am thankful to feel. And I know I will look back on this time and raise yet another Ebenezer in thanks and reverence to the One Who brought me through it.

Thanks for reading.

Broadway Video...

Hey all...
I don't know if you've seen this yet (and if you have, you should watch it again). A while back, me and my brilliant friends Jim, Ryan, and Nate came up with a brilliant idea on how to brilliantly encourage people to continue giving toward the building of our brilliantly brilliant Possibilities Center (which opened on August 29--woot woot!).
So...here it is. Enjoy! Laugh! Revel! Marvel at the brilliance!

Psalm 137.

Challenging week, this week. Seems like God has had a pretty big lesson for me to learn every day lately. Sometimes I respond correctly, humbly, with grace, and sometimes...I don't. Usually I tend to feel like I'm the worst person in the world and self-flagellate until I almost go crazy from the guilt. That's the hardest concept for me to grasp-that there is no condemnation, now that I am in Christ Jesus. That God is not about guilt, and that He is not standing over me with frown and pointed finger. This lesson, He has had to teach me over and over and over and over...

Over the past week, Psalm 139 has been a tremendous encouragement to me...especially verses 11 and 12. I have added my own interpretation of what I think these verses mean...hopefully they will encourage you, too.

1 O LORD, you have searched me
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you know it completely, O LORD.
5 You hem me in-behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.

7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, [a] you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.


11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
(If I convince myself, "Okay, now I've really screwed up. Surely my sin is too overwhelming and God is fed up with me now...I've blown it and now I'm on my own,")
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
(Even the darkest part of my heart is not dark to you. You have searched me and still you say, "All beautiful you are, my darling; there is no flaw in you" [Song of Solomon 4:7]. You are determined to bring light to every part of my soul. You will not give up on me.)

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to [b] me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand.
When I awake,
I am still with you.
19 If only you would slay the wicked, O God!
(if only you would just remove all sin within me right now! Just make me a pure reflection of you for all the days to come RIGHT NOW so I won't have to deal with this sin struggle anymore!)
Away from me, you bloodthirsty men!
20 They speak of you with evil intent;
your adversaries misuse your name.
21 Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD,
and abhor those who rise up against you?
22 I have nothing but hatred for them;
I count them my enemies.
23 Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
24 See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.

Please don't.

Listen here. If you're in a relationship that you would like to get out of, please do not use God as an excuse.

You know what I'm talking about. It's the line a lot of us have used, and it goes something like this:

"I just need to focus on God for the next six months or so...so maybe we should take a break."

Please. Guess what--God wants to be the center of your life ALL THE TIME. Not just for a six-month period. What happens when you get married?

Also, God is not in the business of breaking hearts. Consider it--the person on the receiving end of this suddenly has found out that God is against him/her. "God is telling this person that I'm really into not to date me anymore...so God wants me to be alone??" Don't use Him as an excuse because you have decided you don't want to be with the person you're with anymore. It's okay if you don't--really--but be a man (or woman) about it and be truthful.

For those of you wondering, yes, I have been on the receiving end of this line...but I've also been on the giving end of it, too. A somewhat recent and, thankfully, much less impactful experience has reminded me of how bogus and hurtful it really is to use God as an excuse for something you want to get out of. Think about what you're saying--really think about it. What impression is this going to give the other person about their Creator? What impact is this line going to have a few years down the road on that person's relationships--with others and with God?

Truth is, you have no idea.

Tell the truth in love. Don't skirt the issues, and don't make excuses. Yeah, it'll hurt, but that's inevitable. Sure, you want to avoid conflict and make the process as easy as possible for you...but what I'm asking you to do is choose the path that's better for the other person--not you. The path of unselfishness, of discomfort, of truth. Trust me, it will all work out and hopefully leave the other person with a whole lot less baggage.

That is all.

Are you serious?

Recently - five months ago, i think - a guy from Berkeley County was injured by a bomb that went off while he was serving our country in Iraq. They brought him back in critical condition to a hospital in Texas, where they ended up having to amputate both his legs and, I think, his arms as well in order to save his life. Meanwhile, he married his highschool sweetheart while still a patient in the burn unit...

He died a week ago.

Tomorrow, they will be having a memorial service for this guy...and there are people protesting the funeral. Protesting. Waving around signs that say, "Thank God for dead soldiers."

Are you serious?

I saw the video of the lady on Fox News a few months ago who thought she was on a mission from God when she was organizing these protests up north, and I mistakenly thought that was an isolated incident. I didn't think it was anywhere close to home. Yikes...

I am appalled, saddened, furious for the family of this soldier who literally sacrificed his body and gave up his life serving our country by trying to protect someone else's. And these people are protesting the fact that we recognize this???

It doesn't matter what the reasoning is behind the war or who's responsible or what. It's not this guy's fault. Don't stand in the way of those who are trying to honor his memory. What good does it do? Does it help end the war? Does it help anyone at all?

Besides, these soldiers are just people with families and histories and hobbies and passions and relationships to remember. Would you protest a civilian's funeral? The 67-year-old man who finally succumbed to cancer? How about the 21-year-old wife who died when she lost control of her car overcompensating for someone else veering into her lane? 500 people showed up to that funeral--would you protest that?

I realize this post is going to offend some people, but even that fact saddens me. It just doesn't make sense.

We won...?

So recently, Rob and Kristin of the Morning Show on His Radio went on summer tour and were planning on visiting good ol' Summerville. A few weeks ago, they announced a contest where the listeners were asked to vote for their favorite worship team or choir.

Seacoast Summerville won.

What did we win, you ask? Well, first off, as Kristin put it when she called me, "You've won a frisbee!"

YESSS!!!! We LOVE Frisbees!!!! Seriously, that is the only sport we as a band are remotely good at...and we're actually not very good at that at all. So an extra Frisbee is greatly appreciated to replace the ones we've lost in the woods.

Just kidding, we've never lost any in the woods. But we have broken one or two trying to do that bounce-the-Frisbee-off-the-pavement trick that Joe taught us...

Anyway, we also had the opportunity to appear with Rob and Kristin at the local Chik-Fil-A at 7AM on Wednesday morning. 7AM. Who is really up at 7AM? Actually, let me ask this question instead, since I know a lot of you will say you work at 7am...---who is SINGING at 7AM? Yeah, that's what I thought.

It actually wasn't too bad, though. My buddy Laura brought a miniature sound system (thanks to Fox Music for that...), Gale brought his snare and Justin brought his mandolin. Oh, and of course I got to play Dan's GORGEOUS Taylor 414. It was heaven. And I think you could actually hear us on the radio a bit!

Rob and Kristin couldn't get over how much I apparently look like a singer named Joy Williams...resemblance, anyone?


But the best part was the little kids who showed up at 8 to see us, with signs and all!



It was pretty cool, actually. We won because our congregation members (and some other people who just happen to like me) took the time to vote for us. I promise I had nothing to do with it! ;) So thanks to all who voted...You are welcome to come play Frisbee with us any time.

Gushing

I haven't written in many moons...my apologies to my avid readers. *ahem*

Allow me to gush for a moment. I am blessed to work with some of the most amazing people I have ever met---on a regular basis. And not only are they amazing people, but they are incredible musicians as well! These guys are pro, I tell you, and they give up about 8 hours of their time a week (at least) to rehearse, get up way early on Sunday mornings, and play for at least two services on the worship team at Seacoast Summerville for no more pay than some bananas and cheese. Sometimes they give up their Saturday afternoons for rehearsals...sometimes they give up an extra night to help with other meetings where worship music is needed. These people are selfless, they are dedicated, they work hard at volunteer jobs, and I am blessed to call them my friends. They answer the need whenever there is one, and they are willing to go the extra mile---on a regular basis.

Let me tell you who I'm talking about.

We've got Joe Hanna, who not only is one of the best guitarists (acoustic or electric) in the greater Charleston area, but can sing, harmonize, AND rap--if needed. And he's not too bad at the drums either. Then, of course, Gale Watson, who can learn any drum beat you want him too, handles all the technical stuff, and is creative to boot. Rick Krenmayer never ceases to amaze me with his skillz--he needs to be added to the list of greatest bass players in the southeast. Seriously, all you band people in Charleston looking for a bass prodigy--he's your man.

I know you people think I'm exaggerating, but really, I'm not. Ask Gil. Or anybody who knows.

Then there's Dr. Justin James, who can play everything--with gusto. I'm not even close to kidding. There's Krista Thurston, who sings like an opera angel, knows exactly where I'm going and can harmonize on the spot, and plays an impressive pad/piano combo...There's Maewin Van Something, who harmonizes fantastically and has the same level of energy as I do (well, almost), and that's an extremely underrated quality in background singers---girl power all the way! Josh Mitchum, my friend and brother, whose claim to fame (well, one of them anyway) will be his knack for re-inventing the familiar in worship music, has been a beautiful addition to our team in bass, guitar, and vocal ability.

This team, the regulars, have been such a blessing to me. They allow me to be completely dorky and at least pretend to laugh at my goofiness. They are patient with me when I am lazy, stressed, bossy or insane (or all of the above).

Then I've had a revolving door of people the last few months, all of whom have been phenomenally talented, patient, willing, and just plain incredible. People like Paul Goforth, Wayne Lee, Matt Podesla, Nancy Lowe, Carl Wine, Justin Renzulli, Josh Gragg and Tim Clemons...

Gush, gush, gush. I was just thinking about how honored I am to work with so many great hearts and talented people, and I wanted to let the public know as well. To these musicians, I say thank you. May God give back to you a hundred times what you have poured out for Him. May He increase your talents all the more as you have invested them in advancing His Kingdom.
And may His Kingdom advance as we continue to lead His people in worship--pressing on and pressing in.

Blessings,
Sarah

So excited I could spit...

a few things today...

first off, if you're in the charleston area and you haven't checked out every tuesday in a while, please do so. there's a fresh wind blowing through that place, and you don't want to miss it--seriously. God is on the move.

i was talking about some things with nate today and expressing some concerns regarding getting stale with the worship services i'm in charge of lately and how to inspire my team and congregation to move forward, and he said something really simple but really well-timed. "just try stuff, sarah. you'll never know what you're capable of until you try things. maybe some songs will work and maybe they won't, but you'll never know unless you try."

simple, right? but believe it or not, i've been sort of scared to try. i have been guilty of putting Almighty God in a box because i thought i had to conform to the status quo...i've been allowing my desire (and, I think, His desire) for a fresh wind to blow through my congregation to be hindered by my own complacency and fear of...what? failure? who knows. but i have stood in the way...until now.

a certain verse has been on my heart for the past two months, and i have recently discovered that it is also on the hearts of my friends gil and amy from mosaic church...

Isaiah 43:19 -
"For I am about to do a brand-new thing. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness for my people to come home. I will create rivers for them in the desert!" (NLT)

Same verse in the English Standard Version:
"Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."

behold: to see with attention. to be alert, aware, perceptive.

has this verse been on my heart for nothing? has God spoken it into my friends' hearts just by coincidence? no...God is about to do a new thing. behold! be alert! be proactive! and whatever you do, don't stand in the way.

Whew.

I tell you what, the past week has been a rough one. I've been exhausted physically and emotionally...I thought I had gotten better toward the end of last week, and then came yesterday.
Yesterday (Sunday) was one of the roughest days I've had in a while, as far as church is concerned. Lots of wrenches thrown into the process, and I didn't handle my stress very well. The frustration continued throughout the day and into this morning, and I started to feel like I just couldn't handle it another week. I HATE feeling like that! Discouraged, frustrated, starting to not like the very thing that I love.
Then my boss/mentor showed up at work and I ended up basically just collapsing into tears, and you know what? It was okay. She just hugged me. And then spent about twenty minutes calming me down. :) But really, it was so very encouraging to hear that, for one, I'm not alone in feeling this way sometimes, and two, I am not a failure. And also not being condemned for freaking out every once in a while was very nice as well.
And then, just when I didn't think I could possibly put together another song list for another weekend, my dear friend Josh said he was not only able to come co-lead with me this weekend but that he would put together a set list for the weekend as well. Praise the Lord--seriously. God knew I needed that...what a comfort to know He cares about the seemingly little things.

And then I had the best cup of coffee from Starbucks that man has ever seen, and that was a comfort as well. :)

Well anyway, I just wanted to say that God encouraged me in several ways today when I was just exhausted and sad and "downtrodden," as it were...He'll do it for you too. Read 1 Kings 19...

Buckle Your Seatbelts, Part 1

I’ve been going through The Sacred Romance with my small group lately, and the chapter we just studied hit me so hard, my mind is still reeling. Here is a 3-part blog that tries to encapsulate from what I’m learning…please read the whole thing and let me know what you think.

Have you ever wondered if God feels? Emotions, I mean. I’ve found myself sometimes thinking that God is not prone to emotions. I’ve inadvertently assumed over the years that He’s relatively even-keel and not given to extreme feelings of pain or pleasure. Almost like a big computer in the sky...I think, “He’s in control of things, He’s not affected or changed by people, and everything’s going to be okay because He’s not temperamental like me. And He loves me, too, and that’s awesome.”

But then I wonder…how can He love me without feeling extreme emotion? How does that work? What kind of love can that be?

Hold that thought.

Suppose I am a non-believer who has really never understood who God is or why in the world I should spend my life loving Him. How would you answer me?

Perhaps you would say that He is all-powerful, all-loving, the Creator of the Universe… that He died for my sins, offering me eternal life…and all of these things are fantastic, but I’m still not quite clear on what kind of person He is. Is He even a person? Does God have a personality, or is He just this Being that I’m supposed to revere and obey? ‘Cause that’s all well-and-good, but if I’m going to really love someone and enjoy spending my life with them, I want to actually like the person. So…do you like God?

Think of the people you like to hang out with. Why do you enjoy them? What is it about your true friends that makes you want to spend time with them? Well, they’re fun, right? And probably smart and funny and you have things in common…basically, you like their personalities. Now, if we are to be friends of God as it says in Matthew, there has to be a mutual liking. We know that God likes us (did you know that? that’s another blog…), but do you like God’s personality?

I personally think it would be hard to like someone who is completely emotionless. No excitement, no passion, no drive. It would be frustrating, because that person wouldn’t understand what I go through if they’re not prone to the same emotions I experience every day. So, is God really like that? Because if so, I might be in trouble…

How do we find out what God’s personality is really like? Take a minute and think of nature. Think of the creatures you see on the Animal Planet. Think of mountains, geysers, sunsets…God created these, yes? Looking at all of this, what are some things you can gather about God’s personality?

Obviously He has a sense of humor. And I know you want to say He’s creative, but look deeper. What is one of the greatest characteristics of creative people? They are passionate. Their art comes from places of deep feeling—be it joy, anger, pain, whatever. And I don’t know about you, but when I look at the natural world around us—and even at the people around us—I would say that we are living in the greatest work of art there ever was. So perhaps—PERHAPS—our über-creative God does, in fact, feel.

Let’s look at this logically. We are created in God’s image—man and woman. And that does not apply simply to physical features, but to our souls and, on a smaller scale, personalities as well. That’s right, kids, our inner beings were created in God’s image. That being said, where did all of our emotions come from? The dirt? Our sin nature? No! They are all part of the deal! Now, obviously the sin part associated with our emotions didn’t come from God, but the feeling-part totally did. So if we feel such extreme emotions as we do, what does that tell us about our Maker?

Continue to Part 2.

Buckle Up, Part 2

Another question: Is there any pain worse than a breakup?

Consider, if you will, a time in your life where you felt extreme rejection. Perhaps a breakup…and I know this will bring up some really unhappy memories for some of you, but go with me for a second. What are some of the worst feelings associated with a breakup? Well, rejection, of course. Betrayal. Disappointed hopes. Regret…feeling stupid that you invested so much when the other person was just going to throw it back in your face. You also probably felt pain that you thought would never go away… I don’t think there’s any worse pain than that associated with a breakup.

Let me tell you something. God has felt that pain. A lot. But there was one particular breakup He had to go through that I want to focus on.

Once upon a time, our Hero loved a human—two, actually. He gave them the world—literally. He was so delighted with their friendship, and looked forward to their evening walks. He let them name all the creatures He had created, telling them that whatever they wanted to name them would stick forever. He was so excited about the future they had together! A lifetime eternal in Paradise…love reciprocated. Perfect fellowship. He opened His heart to them…

And they threw it back in His face. For an apple.

They believed a lie—God was holding out on them, they were sure of it. God wanted to share all He had, including His heart, and they said, “Nah. Surely there’s something You haven’t told us—this is all too good to be true. We’d rather listen to this slimy thing on the ground than believe in Your promises for a future that we can’t see.”

And His beloveds spit in His face.

The Breakup…what did God feel? Did He wonder, “What did I do? I offered them everything…I gave them so much of Myself…I loved them with an everlasting love, and they didn’t want it. How could they not want it? Why wasn’t I good enough for them?”

You’ve felt the pain that you thought would never go away, right? So has He.

Continue to Part 3.