Living freely

Here are some excerpts from an e-mail I received last week:

“I'm going through an extreme growth period in my faith but I still feel lost in knowing how to find god's will for me. Maybe I'm just thinking too much but how do you know god's guidance? . . . on many things I know his answers but when I seek him on a specific issue it is then when I tend to get lost. How do you know when he is answering?”

What is God’s will for me?

I hate trying to answer that question. Not because it’s a bad question, or because it shouldn’t be asked. It’s just that sometimes, I think that question holds us back. Of course living in God’s will is the only way to really live, but sometimes the question of what His will really is leaves us fearful that one wrong step, or one faulty interpretation of what God is “saying to me” could DESTORY. MY. LIFE.

God wants us to know Him and his will. He wants us to study the scriptures and become familiar with his nature. There are things that obviously are or are not God’s will. I read another blog recently that said something like, “As we do the things which are clearly in God’s will, we slowly become the kind of people who can discern the things that aren’t so clear.” Forgive me for not remembering who it was or where I saw it! If it was you, let me know and I’ll add a link!

I know . . . when we’re faced with issues like what job to take or what house to buy, there isn’t specific instruction to be found in the Bible on these things. But I think sometimes, outside of the specific commands that he gives us, we’re given the freedom to choose our own path. He tells us to love Him and to love people. This is what is important. Everything else falls into place as we follow him and seek his guidance. During my senior year of college, I was considering many different options for the following year. All of them were good choices. All of them had positive and negative points. I could have defended any of them as God’s will. I chose camp. Was it God’s will? I think so. I thought I’d work here for a year, and then move on, but I ended up meeting and marrying a wonderful man and having a beautiful child. It’s easy for me to say that this was God’s will. Does that mean that one of those other options have been out of God’s will? Not necessarily. My life certainly would have turned out differently, but I believe that God would have used me for his purposes in those situations, too.

I think that often (not always, but often) it’s more about how you’re serving God and honoring Him where you are and with what you’re doing than it is about being in a specific place at a specific time.

Be free!

God's gracious gift

Jack was baptized today. I love infant dedications and baptisms at any church, but especially our church (I'm probably a little biased). I don't know if they do it anymore, but one thing that I loved when I attended the Greenville FMC was that they talked about what the child's name meant and how that might relate to their faith. "Jack" means "the Lord is gracious" or "God's gracious gift." His middle name, William, means "determined" or "resolute." We know that Jack is a gift to us, but our hope is that he will be a gift to everyone who encounters him. We pray that he will have a love for God that surpasses anything else in his life, that his faith will be steadfast and that he will be share that love freely.

As Pastor Mark was praying, my thoughts kept coming back to the idea of stewardship and how it relates to parenting. We have been given the tremendous responsibility of raising this sweet boy. He ultimately belongs to God and we have been entrusted with him for a relatively short period of time. What an honor! We went through so much to have this kid and we feel incredibly blessed.

Unfortunately, I don't have a single decent picture of it and the video was a little blocked. Jack fell asleep on our way home from church, so we didn't get a chance to take a family picture until after I had been finished getting dinner ready for 15 people (hence the greasy, disheveled hair). It was a great day and it was good to have our family all together!

Try singing "Amazing Grace" without the "wretch like me" in it.

Our pastor referenced an article during Sunday's sermon that made me want to read more. So, I googled the author's name and read it in its entirety. You can read the full article here. You can download his sermon here.

Here are some excerpts that he used that made me interested. But really, read the whole article. You'll be glad you did.

". . . my family attended a first communion service. With the little girls in bridal veils and the little boys in miniature suits, the service had the look of a Munchkin wedding feast. Like weddings, first communion recapitulates baptism, and like baptism it is steeped in the ancient Christian rites of initiation. Traditionally, the baptismal rite begins with the renunciation of Satan. Do you renounce Satan? And all his works? (in various versions the list may include: And all his angels? And all his pomps? And all his worship? And all his empty promises?) . . .

"But at the first communion service we attended, the renunciation of Satan was left out of the renewal of baptismal vows. No doubt this was done with the best of intentions: we do not wish to scare our children nor instill in them a precocious sensitivity to the devil. We do not wish to tempt them to hold witch trials on the playground. And yet by this omission we miss an opportunity to appeal to their moral imagination, their sense that the battle is in earnest . . .

"John has not forgotten that at his own first communion he had to sing "Jesus love is bubblin' over." He would have gladly traded a few of those bubbles for the chance to renounce Satan. Must all the good battles be fought in fictional worlds?"

An excerpt from Renouncing Satan by Carol Zaleski.

Christianity's misbegotten stepcousin

So, I've mentioned that I'm working on my master's thesis, but I haven't said what I'm writing about. I will say that this post is lengthy and not really keeping with my blog's usual tone . . . but it's my blog and I can write about whatever I want to write about. So, let me get all academic on you here for a bit . . .

I'll start from the beginning. A few years ago we had a speaker at camp who encouraged teens to flee from evil. That's good. I'm glad he did that. That's what we pay him to say (just kidding . . . kind of). In doing so, he implied that our campers need to stay away from "popular culture." He didn't define the term or clarify what he was saying. He just kind of put it out there. I think the thing I remember most about that night is that every one of our counselors got a smirk on their faces and glanced over at me. Why? Because two nights before that I had thrown a get together at our house to watch VH1's World Series of Popular Culture.

I have myriad problems with that statement that all boil down to this: For many Christians living in America today, the only interaction with the culture in which they live is through boycotts and culture wars. American popular culture has invaded almost every continent and culture in the world. It is drawing increasing attention not only from secular scholars, but also from the Christian community.In today’s age, it is virtually impossible to avoid contact with it. Telling a teenager to "avoid popular culture" is like telling a fish to ignore the water in which it swims.

There are all kinds of terms that I'd need to define for you and cases I'd need to lay out to continue here. In my paper I lay theological foundations that consume 30+ pages. But the basic questions I'm trying to answer with my research are: How do we teach teenagers to think critically about popular culture and how do we use popular culture as a toolkit for spiritual formation in teenagers?

Around the same time that I heard this guy at camp speak, I was given a copy of a book called Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers by Smith and Denton. This book is so informative and so disturbing, all at once. If you work with youth . . . or work with college students . . . or work with people who work with youth . . . or work with college students who work with youth . . . or if you're a Christian . . . you should be reading this book.

The good news from this book is that youth are most definitely hungry for spiritual things. Although, they found that the use of the word “spiritual” by teens has too broad of a meaning to be strictly defined. Their findings show that the majority of American teenagers call themselves Christians, have beliefs that are similar to those of their parents, believe in God, and feel positively about religion. However, while most youth share their parents’ beliefs, they still weren’t able to clearly put what they believe into words. They say:

"Our impression as interviewers was that many teenagers could not articulate matters of faith because they have not been effectively educated in and provided opportunities to practice talking about their faith. Indeed, it was our distinct sense that for many of the teens we interviewed, our interview was the first time that any adult had ever asked them what they believed and how it mattered in their life" (133).

Smith and Denton call the minimal faith held by most teens “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism.” This deity is described by Smith and Denton as an impersonal divine being who was rather uninvolved but helps people to feel better about themselves. For teens, religion is more or less viewed as “helpful.”They expounded on their findings even more on page 171:

"We have come with some confidence to believe that a significant part of Christianity in the United States is actually only tenuously Christian in any sense that is seriously connected to the actual historical Christian tradition, but has rather substantially morphed into Christianity's misbegotten stepcousin, Christian Moralistic Therapeutic Deism. This has happened in the minds and hearts of many individual believers and, it also appears, within the structures of at least some Christian organizations and institutions. The language, and therefore experience, of Trinity, holiness, sin, grace, justification, sanctification, church, Eucharist, and heaven and hell appear, among most Christian teenagers in the United States at the very least, to be supplanted by the language of happiness, niceness, and an earned heavenly reward. It is not so much that U.S. Christianity is being secularized. Rather more subtly, Christianity is either degenerating into a pathetic version of itself or, more significantly, Christianity is actively being colonized and displaced by a quite different religious faith." (page 171, emphasis mine)

Ugh. This weighs heavy on my heart. I've had to pray through the helplessness I feel when I read this and try to lay out a curriculum for the summer. We have our campers for five days. What can we do in five days to help our campers move away from Moralistic Therapeutic Deism toward and authentic faith?

That's what I'm trying to figure out.

The More I Seek You

The band at our retreat this weekend led a song that that I don't remember hearing before. I love the lyrics and I am still trying to soak them up. I think it might be the only reason I didn't have a nervous breakdown with everything I had going on this weekend. Here's how it goes:

The More I seek You
The More I find you
the more I find you
The more I love you

I want to sit at you feet
Drink from the cup in your hands
Lay back against you and breathe
Feel your heartbeat
This love is so deep
It's more than I can stand
I melt in your peace
It's overwhelming

While we were singing this on Sunday morning, I had Jack sleeping in my lap. His head was against my chest and I had my arms wrapped around him. While my comprehension of something so divine will never be complete, I feel like I have a deeper understanding of how God feels about me now that I'm a parent.

It's not just for your checkbook . . .

Here's the word that my thoughts have been turned to this Christmas: reconciliation. A word that my spell check has to correct for me almost every time I type it. My fresh appreciation for this word began on Monday when one of the Christmas cards I designed for a friend included the verses found in 2 Corinthians 5:17 - 19 . . . and now I can't get these verses out of my head. I'm not complaining because they replaced the theme song from Gilligan's Island that I haven't been able to get out of my head for over a month. Nevermind . . . it's back.

I've come to understand that there is no time of year that should focus our hearts of the reconciling work of Christ more than Christmastime. Paul tells us, "God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself." This is why Jesus was born. This is why we celebrate Christmas! Jesus came to bring new life and to reconcile us to God. Do you understand that? Is anyone capable of fully understanding it? How many times have I said those words and not really comprehended the full weight of what it means? We've been unfaithful to Him. We are so undeserving, yet God is so perfectly loving and forgiving. Ugh. I know all of this sound so trite but I wish everyone reading this could understand how it's sunk into my head and my heart this week. But it doesn't end there. We need to be like the one we celebrate. We need to be agents of reconciliation in our world.

I know this is a little discombobulated, but that card I helped them with is helping me to experience Christmas in a fresh way this year. In the note on their card they write in reference to reconciliation, "What a gift we need so desperately!" I can't help but agree.

Not ready for tortilla chips

Lately, I've been trying to convince God of things. In some cases, pleading with him. Trying to convince God that he needs to do or not do certain things for me and how great it would be if he'd help me out of difficult places (most of which concern financial issues). I was trying to tell the one from whom no secrets are hidden and to whom all desires are known what I knew that I needed. How ridiculous does that sound? About as ridiculous as a 5-month-old eating a tortilla chip?

We went to Moe's for lunch yesterday. Jack got restless in the high chair, so I put him on my lap while Kyle was finishing his food. I was munching on tortilla chips and Jack kept trying to grab one and put it in his mouth. When I would take it away, he'd whine (something new he does when he doesn't get his way) and lunge forward to try and take it back.

I kind of wonder if this is what has been going on between God and I over the last few weeks. I'm trying to convince my heavenly Father, the one who created me and knows what I need better than I do, that I know best and he needs to listen to me and do as I say. There are a couple of instances in the Bible when people beg God to let things happen and he says no repeatedly. Eventually, they got their way and ended up in ruins. I don't want to end up in ruins . . . well, any more than I already have.

I know that Jack isn't ready for tortilla chips. It would be ridiculous for me to give him everything that he lunges for or whines about when I love him and know what he is and isn't ready for. I know it's not the perfect illustration, but it helped me to remember that God loves me and won't withhold good things from me. He knows what is best and I will trust him to provide.

I'm going to continue asking God for things . . . but I know it needs to be a little different. I want him to continue revealing more of his character to me. I want him to help me out of my hard places in ways that honor him and mold me into more of who he wants me to be . . . and most importantly, in his timing. I want him to clean my heart of the sinful desires that keep me from reaching my full potential.

I love Jack and I want good things for him (no matter what he could ever say or do) . I'm trying to take captive the lies that I too often believe and remember that God feels more strongly about me than I do about Jack. This love he has for me, combined with the fact that he's almighty, is what I will cling to daily.

Worship: The Anti-Stronghold

I've started about 6 posts this weekend, none of which I've had time to finish. The ironic thing is that Saturday morning I started a post about how laid back and easy the weekend was going to be and how much I was going to be able to get done. HA! Not so much.
The weekend was pretty relaxed, but very unproductive. My parents came out to visit Jack and let Kyle and I hang out with them too. They're leaving on a cruise this weekend so we won't see them for a while.

The main thing I want to share about the weekend was how poignant yesterday's sermon was. The pastor at our church has a way of speaking words of conviction without making one feel condemned. The premise of the sermon was that worship is the anti-stronghold. It demolishes everything that stands against God. Unfortunately, we live in a worshipless society. He said, "When people deny God, the only option left to them is to live according to their strongest impulses." I could go on, but I would not do the sermon justice.

I checked our church's website and the November 11 sermon isn't up yet, but I suspect that it will be within the next couple of days. If you have 20 minutes, I would encourage anyone who wasn't there on Sunday to listen. Honestly, any of the sermons you can download there are excellent and worth the time, but if you're only going to listen to one, listen to yesterday's.

I'm in a recession.

Today was a rough day. If you don't believe me, just ask my husband.

To be quite honest, the last 6 weeks or so have been difficult. I don't know if it's possible to suffer from post-partum depression 5 months after the fact . . . and I'm not sure depression is the right word for what I've been going through. I think that might be a little too strong. I think recession is probably a better description. I've been going through post-post-partum recession. How's that for a diagnosis?

For the last week or so, things were looking up. Circumstances haven't changed, but my outlook on life and my stress level had both seemed to find balance. Today, however, the floodgates opened. With tough decisions hanging over my head, frustration over unmet expectations, deadlines looming, financial stress at a peak and my hair still falling out by the fistful, I just reached my breaking point and ended up crying at my desk in the little corner of our office that isn't filled with papers, boxes and other trash for which we have no other storage area.

As I was driving home for the third time today, I remembered a prayer that I've prayed on other "bad days." Here it is:

Father, give to us, and to all your people, in times of anxiety, serenity; in times of hardship, courage; in times of uncertainty, patience; and at all time, a quiet trust in your wisdom and love; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

I'm praying it as my own tonight.

All who are weary . . .

There's something about what God has created that can speak directly to a person's soul.

I have no biblical basis for that, but it sounds nice, huh? That's what I was thinking last night as Kyle and I drove to Jackson for my brother's soccer game. The sun was setting and the sky was painted in beautiful shades of pink and orange. The sunset, combined with the red, orange and yellow leaves on all of the trees, cast a golden tint to everything. We agreed that it was as if the car windows had some sort of gold-tinted film covering them. We passed a pond that reflected the gold color and made it look as if you could walk out onto it. To top it all off, Jack was in the car, awake and not screaming. It was incredible.

The only thing I didn't have was time and a camera.

As we marveled at what God had created, I felt a sense of peace that took me by surprise. It was the strangest thing. It was an ordinary day. We were in the car. On the way to a soccer game. And I was completely overwhelmed by God's presence and keenly aware of his call for me to rest.

I took the long way to and from the grocery store this morning hoping to re-capture some of what I saw, and subsequently felt, last night. Unfortunately, the magic was gone. But for those few moments in the car last night, the burdens were lifted and I found rest.

What I learned . . .

Net Gib Snoipmahc is "Big Ten Champions" spelled backward. That's what I learned at Aquire the Fire.

Aquire the Fire (ATF) is a conference/rally for teens to deepen their relationship with God and catch a vision for telling people about Jesus. I recently saw an advertisement for an upcoming ATF and I thought back to the one time I went in high school. I remember two things about that weekend:

1. ATF was in the Breslin Center at MSU and we were in a part of the arena where we could just see the reverse side of their "Big Ten Champions" banner hanging there. I spent much of the conference trying to figure out how to pronounce it backwards.

AND

2. They passed out free books for everyone who attended. They then passed around offering baskets to put money in for the "free books." Sneaky, sneaky.

That's it. Just those two things.

Where am I going with this? (side note: that should be the title of my blog: "Where am I going with this?" Maybe I'll change it someday) I can't help but wonder how many of our campers go home and only remember random details of their week that have little eternal consequence. That thought motivates me and discourages me all at the same time.

Explanation of How We're Going to Screw You Over

I received our "Explanation of Benefits" from our insurance company for Jack's doctor's appointments thus far. I really feel that they should be called "Explanation of How We're Going to Screw You Over" (EOHWGSYO) because inevitably, that's what they are. And today was no exception to that rule.

I read in our information that Jack's "Well Baby" visits and immunizations were covered 100% by our insurance company. A part of the reason I wanted to have a baby was just so that we could get something from our insurance company that was covered 100%.

So, imagine my surprise when I get the EOHWGSYO from the insurance company and it says we owe $273 for his latest check up and immunizations. "How could that be?" I asked myself. These check-ups are clearly marked as "Covered - 100 percent of the approved amount, no deductible required" in benefits guide. I had several people tell me how lucky I am to have that coverage, and I agreed. We're already trying to figure out how to pay off the thousands that we owe for hospital costs and other debt in our life, so having something covered 100% was . . . well, it was just nice not to have to worry about it.

However, tonight I saw the fine print. Isn't it funny how bad news is so often in the fine print? On our benefits guide it says, "Preventive Care Services - Payment is limited to a combined $500 annual maximum for covered preventive care services." $500. Why even say you'll cover these visits and immunizations 100% if you'll only cover it up to $500? You can't get 2 well-baby visits and all of the immunizations for $500 . . .so how can you possibly get all 6 that the insurance company allegedly covers? It's impossible. The real kicker is that if these "preventive" visits were billed as regular office visits, we'd only have to pay our usual 20% co-pay. The other thing that really gets me is that the doctor's office that told me I was going to cause brain damage to Jack also billed my insurance and will be sending me a bill for the remaining balance. How is this fair?

So, I lost it tonight. I broke down into the ugly cry again. I kept thinking about how if Kyle had a teaching job, we'd have a lot less hospital bills, Jack's doctor's visits would be covered, plus we'd have more money. I kept thinking about how if we had saved our extra money three years ago, we wouldn't be in so much debt now. I keep thinking about the horrible, horrible mortgage that we got fooled into signing off on and how the market's so bad right now so selling or refinancing are years away from being options. I kept thinking about how the camp doesn't provide housing for us and how nice it would be not to have a house payment. I kept thinking about how we may literally never be able to retire. I cry even as I type this because I feel a little like I'm drowning. Kyle keeps reminding me that God has always provided and will continue to provide, but at what point is the issue not God's provision, but us having to live with the consequences of spending rather than saving during the earlier years of our marriage.

I love Jack and know that he was worth every penny that went (or will be paid) toward infertility treatments and hospital bills, but I wish I could go back 5 years and change a few things. I know it's crazy, but I keep hoping we'll just win the lottery (which means I'd actually have to go buy a ticket) or have all of the debt erased. I constantly come back to to this recurring thought of how great I'd feel to have all of our debt erased.

One day as I was dreaming about what it would be like to be debt-free, I realized that the freedom that would come from having our financial debt erased is nothing compared to the freedom that we have from having our sin erased. As trite as it may sound, Jesus died to pay a debt far greater than anything we owe to any hospital or credit card company. I'm blessed just to not have to carry the burden of my sin any longer. I need to live each day realizing that there is a freedom greater than financial freedom that is already mine. Praise God!

I guess I need to stop stressing about retirement and start praising God for how he provides for us each day. My prayer for tonight is that God will use us despite our financial woes and that we will be able to make wise financial decisions. And that we will win the lottery.

If only I knew . . .

So, it was a year ago tomorrow that we discovered that our first IUI using gonal-f did not work and that we were, in fact, not pregnant . . . again. Now, I'm typing with one hand because I'm holding my baby in my other. It's a good feeling. As we've hit the one and two year anniversaries of our journey through infertility, I find myself constantly thinking, "If only I had known then how well it would turn ou I wouldn't have worried so much." Today I'm reminded that God is as faithful today as he has been over the last three years and I need to be thinking, "If I could only understand fully how God is working all of these things for good, I wouldn't be so worried."

Don't get me wrong . . . I think God is faithful in every situation but I don't think that retrospect always brings total understanding to every situation. When someone dies, you grieve. When someone hurts you, you feel pain. I don't think you ever look back 10 years later and think, "If I knew then what I know today, I wouldn't have spent so much time hurting and healing." I'm merely speaking of not worrying so much because God will take care of me . . . even if it's in a way different than I would expect. There are other situations in which good comes in spite of the circumstances rather than through them. I hope I'm not too confusing.


There are some pictures posted below, but click here to see more.

Here are some links to past blogs:

6 weeks
One month
3 weeks
Summer 07
Newborn

Jack at 10 weeks old:

Life's wierd right now

I've been on a short blogging hiatus over the last three or four days . . . because the last three or four days have been rough. You know how something can happen that can change the way you look at the world completely? I felt that way after we had a dorm fire at Greenville and lost a student in the fire my sophomore year. It's one of those things so awful that you can't believe it actually happened and your brain sometimes tries to trick you into thinking you're imagining it. Kyle and I have had several of those moments this week happen one right after the other and we're left wondering if there's anything certain in life and why things happen the way that they do.

Having said that, I've had a lot of things I would have liked to write about, but I can't remember half of them. It was a good week at camp, but more exhausting than most. I probably shouldn't be up right now even writing this because I need my sleep. We're taking our staff to Warren Dunes tomorrow for our annual "end-of-the-summer" trip. I'll be leaving my baby for the longest I've ever left him tomorrow too. I was away from him a lot today and I missed him. But what I'm looking forward to even LESS than being away from Jack is getting into a bathing suit. Yuck. No one wants to see that.

Jack is now officially 2 months old! That's so crazy. The first two months of my pregnancy seemed to last two years. The first two months of his life seemed more like two weeks.

This is going to be a BUSY weekend, so I need to get my sleep. Good night!

To Own a Dragon

I read a great book last summer. It's called To Own a Dragon. It just kind of fell into my lap. My only gripe about the book is that the author (Donald Miller) puts a disclaimer in the forward that this book is mainly for guys who grew up without fathers (the subtitle of the book is "Reflections on growing up without a father"). I genuinely hope that that disclaimer doesn't scare anyone away. I want to share with you an excerpt (a long one) :

"I know submitting to authority isnt the most popular thing to do these days, but the thing about fathers, at least in John MacMurrays case, is they always have their kids interest at heart. That concept alone changed everything for me. If God was fathering me, and He knew exactly what I needed, then when I didnt get something I wanted, I could trust God didnt give it to me because it was not something I needed. I think that is part of what Jesus meant when He said, 'Thy will be done.'

Here is how this idea played out in the MacMurray house. Every evening around six, Terri would set dinner on the table, and the family would sit down to eat. And every night, almost without fail, the kids would start to whine. Unless it was chicken nuggets and French fries, there were going to be problems at dinner. One evening, Cassy, who was quite good at lobbying the family for what she wanted, lay down on the kitchen floor and rolled over in frustration about having to eat whatever it was Terri had prepared. John stood at the corner of the island in the kitchen and watched her, trying not to laugh. She twisted and turned and moaned and complained, but John stood silently, not letting her manipulate him. Finally, Cassy belted out the now famous line, 'Dad, how could you do this to me?' John and I covered our mouths and looked away in hysterics.

But here is what is so interesting about that scene. Cassy actually believed what she was saying had merit. The pain and frustration she felt about dinner that night was the same pain and frustration you and I probably feel about not getting the job we want, the car we want, or whatever. Looking back, it struck me how often I have wondered, sometimes out loud to God, "How could you do this to me?"

In the situation with Cassy, John had some choices as a father. One thing he could have done was to throw the dinner out and cook up some chicken nuggets and fries. But lets be honest, kids whose parents do this for them end up as evil dictators in small countries. Giving Cassy what she wanted rather than what she needed should not be confused with good parenting. If God was withholding something I wanted, it meant I could trust Him rather than cry out, How could you do this to me?
. . .
One of the most tender and beautiful scenes that would occasionally unfold in the MacMurray house was the calm, quiet peace that would come over one of the children when they were done trying to get their way. Cassy would get up off the floor and walk over to where her dad was and hold out her arms, her face still pouting. Then John would sit down on the couch and hold her and rock her in his arms . . . "

I saw this posted in an old blog and it spoke to me again today. May you today experience the calm, quiet peace that comes only from surrendering and cesasing any effort to get your way.

Just breathe . . .

I got the new Nooma video in the mail yesterday. It is, as usual, brilliant. But it made me remember that the one that came out in December was still in it's wrapper sitting my office, so I decided to get that one out and watch it too. It's titled "Breathe."

In "Breathe", Rob Bell asks, "Have you ever thought about your breath from a spiritual perspective?" With everything that we deal with on a daily basis . . . from stressful things to mundane things . . . no one really ever stops to think about their breathing. Bell points out that the name of God, "LORD" appears in the Bible over 6000 times. But it wasn't originally written in the English language. It was originally in Hebrew. The Hebrew name is essentially 4 letters: "YHVH". But in Hebrew, the letters are pronounced: 'Yod, Heh, Vav, Heh." Say it out loud. The name of God is essentially the sound of breathing. How does that change the way we view ourselves and the others around us? God breathed into us the breath of life. And now by merely breathing, we speak his name.

Bored yet? Well, as I was sitting in our childbirth class today, learning to concentrate on my breathing, this all came rushing back to me . . . the importance of breath. As I watched the gruesome labor and delivery video, I got teary as I watched the baby take his first breath and thereby speak the name of God for the first time.

Divine breath is flowing through each of us who have been created by God . . . no matter what their belief system, race, sense of humor or anything else. We are all on holy ground whether we stop to recognize it or not. He ends with this blessing:

"May you come to see that God is here right now with us all of the time.
May you come to see that the ground you are standing on is holy.
And as you slow down, may you become aware that it is in 'Yod, heh, vav, heh' that we live and we move and we breathe."

But if not . . .

The sermon in church yesterday is still on my mind. At risk of making an excellent sermon much shorter and more mediocre, here was the message in a nutshell: Pastor Mark was preaching about the three Hebrew men thrown into the blazing inferno at the hand of Nebuchadnezzar because they wouldn't bow down to his gods. There names were Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah before there names were changed by Nebuchadnezzar to the more recognized names of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.

The whole sermon hinged on Daniel 3:16 - 18:
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to the king, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. BUT IF NOT, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up."

S, M & A all recognized that God was powerful enough to save them from the furnace. The phrase "but if not" showed their willingness to surrender to what God had planned, whether he saved them or not. We've all been in situations in which we're thrown in the proverbial furnace . . . and the challenge to trust God whether he saves us from it or not was a huge one. I really haven't done this sermon justice, but stick with me.

After church, and after a discussion in small group, I feel disheveled. Am I ok praying for God to have his way in any situation, even when times are good? I think it's easier to pray for that when times are bad and can only get better. But can I honestly surrender to his will, when that might mean going down a harder road than I'm on right now? I guess if I'm honest with myself, I ask for God's will in my life all the time when I pray. But do I mean it? What if total surrender means that I lose my home? Or my job? Or my family? Or my baby? Or my husband? When faced with a furnace, can I say "but if not . . . "? The story of Abraham's obedience in taking Isaac as a sacrifice suddenly becomes newer and more painful.

Are there things that I would be completely unwilling to part with as part of my surrender to God? Can these good things be the idols that I worship?

At the end of the sermon, right before we started singing, the baby started throwing a little party in my belly. He was kicking and moving and flailing like I've never felt before. It was kind of like he was worshiping right along with us!

We had a pretty big ice storm last night. I'm actually surprised that we didn't lose power. Neither Kyle or I could sleep, so every hour or so, we'd get up and look at what was going on outside. It was a very peaceful rain . . . not much wind or blowing. The rain just fell and iced over everything that was exposed.

Kyle and I drove to camp this morning (before we realized camp didn't have power) and there are a lot of trees and tree branches down this morning. The branches that aren't down, are bent so far that they're close to the ground. It really is an image of all creation bowing down before the Creator.

We had an ice storm like this about 5 years ago when I first started at camp and I hiked around the lake and took some beautiful pictures of trees with ice on them. In retrospect, I realize that was kind of dangerous . . . hiking through the woods full of ready-to-snap branches. Maybe I need to go out and get some pictures of this ice storm too . . . when it's safe, that is.

The divine error of Crossings Book Club

When I was in college, I read A LOT more than I do now. I was a much better person then.

During my sophomore year, I found one of those mail-in cards for Crossings Book Club. It was one of those deals where you get 6 books for $.99 and then you have to buy 4 more within 3 years to fulfill your membership requirements. So, I signed up. The books were certainly cheaper than the bookstore and I got a "stylish book tote" as a free gift. For the record, the person who labeled the tote "stylish" should have been fired.

I wrote my check for $.99 plus shipping and handling and sent it in. 4 - 6 weeks later, I was so excited to get my books! I was about 83% pleased with my order because only 5 of my books were the ones I ordered. The sixth was one I had never even heard of. I didn't know if it was my mistake or theirs but didn't really want to complain . . . the books only cost about 17 cents each.

All of that to say, the incorrect book has become one of my favorites and I have treasured it ever since. The dust jacket is ragged and some of the pages are about to fall out, but I will never get rid of it. I really do feel like the book club error was divine. The book is called "The Complete Book of Christian Prayer." There has never been a time in my life where I have not been able to find a prayer in this book that says what I want to say but couldn't find the words. The prayers are the prayers of people who have experienced all of the things we all experience in life and it's been priceless.

Why am I telling you this? Because tonight I had my weekly dive into the prayer book and found a prayer that I had NEVER noticed before. It's by a women named Rita Snowden. It goes like this:

"O God, it might seem odd to some to pray for someone not yet born - but not to you and not to me. In these nine months of womanly patience, I have learned more than ever to marvel at your creative plans - and our part in them. I rejoice that the fashioning of a baby, and the founding of a family, requires the gifts of body, mind and spirit you have given to each of us. Bless these days of waiting, of preparation, of tender hope.

"Let only things and thoughts that are clean and strong and glad be about us. I give you thanks that from childhood till this experience of maturity, you have made it both beautiful and natural for me to give love and to receive it. In this newest experience, hold us each safe, relaxed and full of eager hope - even as you count each life in your presence, precious."

The Book of Christian Prayer comes through again.