This was one of the best weekends we've had in a long time at church. Not because everything was executed perfectly or because we planned the best service ever, but because God changes people's lives.
Not only was this the first weekend in the Soul Cravings series, it also happened to be a weekend designed for baptisms in service. Even though this is programmed every month, we don't usually have that element in the service every month at Montgomery. But we sure did this weekend, and I couldn't help feeling overwhelmed.
On Saturday night two families in our church baptized their daughters, who are both around eight or nine years old. I was the one who got to read their testimonies--I love reading testimonies of kids...mainly because they're short (their stories, that is, not them, although that is also true)...but also because they're so simple. Sometimes things just click with kids in a way that takes grown-ups a lifetime to comprehend. But as I read MacKenzie's story (it was hand-written, and only about 4 or 5 sentences long, mind you), it was all I could do to keep the tears from coming. I can't even remember what she said now, but I know that I got choked up by the simplicity of her writing about her relationship with Jesus.
The coolest moment was having the kids from Kids City, who were all friends of Kate and MacKenzie (the 2 girls getting baptized), come and sit in the front row in support of their friends. Each time one of the girls came up out of the water, their friends were so excited for them. I think they cheered louder than the adults. Even if they didn't fully comprehend the immensity of that moment, I think they all knew something big was happening. Our StuCo director, Tim Raad, baptized his daughter about a year ago (I think she's ten now), and she was my favorite part of the whole moment. When her friends came up out of the water, she jumped out of her chair with both fists lifted in the air, cheering for her new sisters in Christ.
Her enthusiasm was uncontainable.
Later I heard her talking to Kate, the two of them having a conversation about what it felt like to come up out of the water, and Destiny said to Kate, "I know how you felt when you came out of the water. You just felt so....so GOOD."
And a little child shall lead them in.
Sunday morning we had two more baptisms--a mother and daughter of one of my favorite families in our church. What a cool moment to see a whole family in the baptistry together, encouraging and supporting each other in their spiritual journeys.
These are the moments that make church worthwhile. These are the moments that infuse a hollow room with life, and energy, and the presence of God--so close that you can feel Him. I felt His smile this morning, and last night, as He watched His children celebrating life. Not empty life, but Life. These are more than rituals, they are proof of an ever-present, real, personal, loving, relentless God, who calls His children home.
Salvation is here. Don't contain yourself.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
life...in context
Do you think objectivity really exists?
I mean, really exists. Is it possible to be truly objective in any given situation? Especially when asked to be objective, it seems nearly impossible to be so.
Here's why I think this is true. My Shakespeare class got me thinking about this. We did response writings last week and I was writing about how Shakespeare is almost never read and/or viewed objectively--there is always a context surrounding our experience of Shakespeare which then affects every experience we have with Shakespeare from that point on. Maybe you saw Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo & Juliet, and you loved him, so therefore you loved the film. Or maybe you didn't love him, so you didn't love the film. The point is that you didn't really experience Romeo & Juliet. You carried a lot into the viewing of that particular motion picture having to do with things other than the actual script. (And I'm not singling you out--this is the collective you to which I refer...)
The point is this: I doubt whether at this stage in my life I will ever be able to experience anything from an objective viewpoint. In the last 25 years I've had enough experiences that lie in deep recesses of my brain that can be triggered by any number of outside influences. Take Shakespeare again--I can't read Romeo & Juliet without thinking of my freshman English teacher since that's whose class in which I read the play for the first time. All of it--everything--has associations that may not be in our consciousness at any given moment, but can be triggered, which is why I am playing with this idea that we truly live life in context. I don't know if in our own personal lives we can ever take something "out of context", for we don't forget circumstances or experiences that easily.
Maybe the amnesiac can be objective. Or Jason Bourne. But the rest of us? Are we capable of making objective decisions? I don't know for sure.
I, personally, seem incapable of objectivity. Subjectivity, on the other hand, makes every experience interconnected with another...so that my life's context becomes as intricate as a spider web.
I mean, really exists. Is it possible to be truly objective in any given situation? Especially when asked to be objective, it seems nearly impossible to be so.
Here's why I think this is true. My Shakespeare class got me thinking about this. We did response writings last week and I was writing about how Shakespeare is almost never read and/or viewed objectively--there is always a context surrounding our experience of Shakespeare which then affects every experience we have with Shakespeare from that point on. Maybe you saw Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo & Juliet, and you loved him, so therefore you loved the film. Or maybe you didn't love him, so you didn't love the film. The point is that you didn't really experience Romeo & Juliet. You carried a lot into the viewing of that particular motion picture having to do with things other than the actual script. (And I'm not singling you out--this is the collective you to which I refer...)
The point is this: I doubt whether at this stage in my life I will ever be able to experience anything from an objective viewpoint. In the last 25 years I've had enough experiences that lie in deep recesses of my brain that can be triggered by any number of outside influences. Take Shakespeare again--I can't read Romeo & Juliet without thinking of my freshman English teacher since that's whose class in which I read the play for the first time. All of it--everything--has associations that may not be in our consciousness at any given moment, but can be triggered, which is why I am playing with this idea that we truly live life in context. I don't know if in our own personal lives we can ever take something "out of context", for we don't forget circumstances or experiences that easily.
Maybe the amnesiac can be objective. Or Jason Bourne. But the rest of us? Are we capable of making objective decisions? I don't know for sure.
I, personally, seem incapable of objectivity. Subjectivity, on the other hand, makes every experience interconnected with another...so that my life's context becomes as intricate as a spider web.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
how exciting....
The highlight of the last week?
I have my own desk in our brand new office!
You don't understand.
I haven't had my own desk in the 3 years I've been working at CCC.
I have my own desk. I could even put up pictures if I wanted to. Of my friends and such, since everyone else has pictures of their kids, and I guess I could put up pictures of my kids, but....yeah, I don't have any.
I have my own desk!!
It's lame how excited I am about it.
I know, you don't have to tell me.
I have my own desk in our brand new office!
You don't understand.
I haven't had my own desk in the 3 years I've been working at CCC.
I have my own desk. I could even put up pictures if I wanted to. Of my friends and such, since everyone else has pictures of their kids, and I guess I could put up pictures of my kids, but....yeah, I don't have any.
I have my own desk!!
It's lame how excited I am about it.
I know, you don't have to tell me.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Everybody's working for the...weekend?
The weather this past week has convinced me 100% that I am not meant to hold a 9-5 job. Ever. I can't handle being indoors that long. Which is why my job is great. The only unfortunate part is that I don't have "weekends" anymore. This one was the closest I've had in a long time....though long and exhausting, it actually felt like a weekend.
One of my favorite things to observe is a group of friends who have known each other for a long time. That group of guys who have known each other since they were kids. And even though you feel like somewhat of an outsider listening to them talk about not just college, but high school and junior high, it's still entertaining to see them interact. I realized that I don't really have that. We moved so often when I was younger that I don't have any of the same friends I had in elementary school. There are a few I have known since junior high, but the bonds get weaker all the time, and even most of my friends from high school have begun to fall into the category of internet friends--we communicate via email, myspace, and/or facebook. And really, I'm ok with that. My life has gone through so many phases that I count this as just another phase....and keep going.
This weather was made for weekends and old friends. It feels good.
One of my favorite things to observe is a group of friends who have known each other for a long time. That group of guys who have known each other since they were kids. And even though you feel like somewhat of an outsider listening to them talk about not just college, but high school and junior high, it's still entertaining to see them interact. I realized that I don't really have that. We moved so often when I was younger that I don't have any of the same friends I had in elementary school. There are a few I have known since junior high, but the bonds get weaker all the time, and even most of my friends from high school have begun to fall into the category of internet friends--we communicate via email, myspace, and/or facebook. And really, I'm ok with that. My life has gone through so many phases that I count this as just another phase....and keep going.
This weather was made for weekends and old friends. It feels good.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
the storm
and then I see the storm coming
slowly swallowing the sky
a wall of darkness, yawning
across the softly starlit night
it comes with lightning
flashing, pulsing,
burning, searing in my eyes
it comes with thunder
growling
in the recess of my mind
it comes in forms I'd not suspected
lying on the shallow pavement--
bare feet twitching in the soft grass
shoes rejected,
bearers of blisters,
heels relaxing in their freedom--
and next to me
our elbows touching
(purposely or accident?)
the man I thought had left no traces
suddenly materialized
and as the wind picks up its speed
wrapping the chill in the evening breeze
I wonder if it's just the air
that's causing my pulse to race
that's feeding the color into my face
that's pricking the skin of my shoulders,
my arms,
causing the goosebumps to rise
in heightened awareness of how close it lies:
the storm
and his heartbeat
and maybe my life
all wrapped up together
with love intertwined--
up from the sidewalk
through cracks of cement
the lonely hope rises
the lovers' lament
of trust born and broken
and brought back to life
emerging triumphant
yet brittle and tired
and waiting...for something...
(it doesn't know what)
but the flash and the crash
and the fat drops of rain
interrupt
the beginning
the electric flame
and after it all
when the moment has passed
we wait for the storm to break.
slowly swallowing the sky
a wall of darkness, yawning
across the softly starlit night
it comes with lightning
flashing, pulsing,
burning, searing in my eyes
it comes with thunder
growling
in the recess of my mind
it comes in forms I'd not suspected
lying on the shallow pavement--
bare feet twitching in the soft grass
shoes rejected,
bearers of blisters,
heels relaxing in their freedom--
and next to me
our elbows touching
(purposely or accident?)
the man I thought had left no traces
suddenly materialized
and as the wind picks up its speed
wrapping the chill in the evening breeze
I wonder if it's just the air
that's causing my pulse to race
that's feeding the color into my face
that's pricking the skin of my shoulders,
my arms,
causing the goosebumps to rise
in heightened awareness of how close it lies:
the storm
and his heartbeat
and maybe my life
all wrapped up together
with love intertwined--
up from the sidewalk
through cracks of cement
the lonely hope rises
the lovers' lament
of trust born and broken
and brought back to life
emerging triumphant
yet brittle and tired
and waiting...for something...
(it doesn't know what)
but the flash and the crash
and the fat drops of rain
interrupt
the beginning
the electric flame
and after it all
when the moment has passed
we wait for the storm to break.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
raccoons?
Apparently we have some friendly neighborhood raccoons living on our roof.
They made a guest appearance after our small group dinner last night. Shelley and I went out to cover the grill and there they were, peeking in between the overhang of the roof of the house and the family room. I know raccoons are a nuisance, and not the kind of animal you really want hanging around, but they were little ones, and pretty cute....I made a few half-hearted attempts to try to scare them away, mainly by yelling (which, in case you were wondering, is pretty ineffective), but they were not threatened by me. They weren't even scared when we poked a long metal stick (the kind that you use to cook hot dogs over a bonfire) right at them....in fact, I think they wanted to play with it.
Seeing the raccoons that close took me back to fifth grade. When I was in fifth grade, my family lived in an apartment complex in Grand Rapids. I probably couldn't find it for you now, but it was sweet. At least to a fifth grader. Our apartment was on the ground floor, and we were at the edge of the complex, so not only did we have a pool for the whole summer, we had a large forest out back. An actual forest....with lots of trees. It was a haven for my sister and I. Growing up with a botany-teacher/naturalist father, we had a vast knowledge of all things having to do with forests. At least considering we were 9 and 11 years old. We would wander through the woods (what were my parents thinking?). I remember finding a sandy creek that had clear, clear water.....and sometimes little minnows. There was one spot where vines grew between the trees and made a swing. It probably wasn't the most sturdy thing to play on, but we did it anyway.
But the best part of that whole year was the spring.....when we saw the raccoons. They had been hanging around all year, but in the spring there were babies. For Becky and I, that was a highlight. They would come right up to our door and beg for food. They would even climb up the post to the deck above us. They were pretty daring little buggers. I remember not being able to leave the sliding door open in case they figured out how to get through the screen. It was always an adventure, waiting for the raccoons to show up.
Which might explain why they don't freak me out. I mean sure, they get into your garbage cans and climb on the roof and can make scary noises (Shelley will gladly tell you all about that), but their saving grace is that they're pretty cute.
Which can not be said of possums. I hate possums. (While we're on the subject of animals that live in the city that shouldn't...)
Sometimes I think I might be a country girl at heart.
And sometimes I walk out of the house and can't remember if I put on deodorant. Do you ever have those days? And then you feel self-conscious for the rest of the day, because by the time you've realized you don't know if you put on deodorant it's too late to go back and do it because you're already at work.
Today was one of those days.
They made a guest appearance after our small group dinner last night. Shelley and I went out to cover the grill and there they were, peeking in between the overhang of the roof of the house and the family room. I know raccoons are a nuisance, and not the kind of animal you really want hanging around, but they were little ones, and pretty cute....I made a few half-hearted attempts to try to scare them away, mainly by yelling (which, in case you were wondering, is pretty ineffective), but they were not threatened by me. They weren't even scared when we poked a long metal stick (the kind that you use to cook hot dogs over a bonfire) right at them....in fact, I think they wanted to play with it.
Seeing the raccoons that close took me back to fifth grade. When I was in fifth grade, my family lived in an apartment complex in Grand Rapids. I probably couldn't find it for you now, but it was sweet. At least to a fifth grader. Our apartment was on the ground floor, and we were at the edge of the complex, so not only did we have a pool for the whole summer, we had a large forest out back. An actual forest....with lots of trees. It was a haven for my sister and I. Growing up with a botany-teacher/naturalist father, we had a vast knowledge of all things having to do with forests. At least considering we were 9 and 11 years old. We would wander through the woods (what were my parents thinking?). I remember finding a sandy creek that had clear, clear water.....and sometimes little minnows. There was one spot where vines grew between the trees and made a swing. It probably wasn't the most sturdy thing to play on, but we did it anyway.
But the best part of that whole year was the spring.....when we saw the raccoons. They had been hanging around all year, but in the spring there were babies. For Becky and I, that was a highlight. They would come right up to our door and beg for food. They would even climb up the post to the deck above us. They were pretty daring little buggers. I remember not being able to leave the sliding door open in case they figured out how to get through the screen. It was always an adventure, waiting for the raccoons to show up.
Which might explain why they don't freak me out. I mean sure, they get into your garbage cans and climb on the roof and can make scary noises (Shelley will gladly tell you all about that), but their saving grace is that they're pretty cute.
Which can not be said of possums. I hate possums. (While we're on the subject of animals that live in the city that shouldn't...)
Sometimes I think I might be a country girl at heart.
And sometimes I walk out of the house and can't remember if I put on deodorant. Do you ever have those days? And then you feel self-conscious for the rest of the day, because by the time you've realized you don't know if you put on deodorant it's too late to go back and do it because you're already at work.
Today was one of those days.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
on words
Words are such interesting things.
So much of my life has revolved around their usage--being an English major with a lifelong appreciation for books will do that to you.
My friend Bob and I were discussing this last weekend. We use so few of the words that we actually know in our everyday conversations. We have a few standards that we refer back to over and over again....and they are kind of lame, if I can be honest. And I have noticed that particularly in "Christian" circles, we use 2 adjectives for almost everything--most everything is either awesome or amazing.
I find nothing wrong with either of these words. I just find them overused and unoriginal. Especially when you can look through the dictionary and find so many more interesting words that are so much more descriptive.
It seems that when trying to describe the God that we follow or express our very small understanding of how He works in our lives, we should use the best words possible. And God truly is AWE-some; not in the same way that my favorite movie is awesome or that restaurant is awesome, but in a way that inspires awe in its truest form. And sometimes so many things can be amazing that I forget what it truly means to be amazed....to have that overwhelming sense of wonder, surprise, excitement.... It gets lost behind so many other mundane and mediocre words. I guess the truth is that we have no words to truly express our reaction to a God like ours. So we stumble over words that will never be enough.
I often feel this same sense of inadequacy in conversation with people. I have known for a long time that I am much more eloquent in print than in person. That has kept me from participating in a great many conversations over the course of my life, for fear of saying something unintelligent. It has also kept me from expressing a lot of emotion, for fear of saying something I don't really mean.
During the conversation with Bob on vocabulary, I tried to come up with a list of my top ten favorite words. It was much harder than I thought it would be. My number one favorite word right now is ethereal. It is a beautiful word that I can unfortunately never manage to get into conversation....
This blog post does not do justice to the concepts running through my head. My vocabulary, at this moment, is sadly lacking to express what I truly mean. For words are such interesting things...
So much of my life has revolved around their usage--being an English major with a lifelong appreciation for books will do that to you.
My friend Bob and I were discussing this last weekend. We use so few of the words that we actually know in our everyday conversations. We have a few standards that we refer back to over and over again....and they are kind of lame, if I can be honest. And I have noticed that particularly in "Christian" circles, we use 2 adjectives for almost everything--most everything is either awesome or amazing.
I find nothing wrong with either of these words. I just find them overused and unoriginal. Especially when you can look through the dictionary and find so many more interesting words that are so much more descriptive.
It seems that when trying to describe the God that we follow or express our very small understanding of how He works in our lives, we should use the best words possible. And God truly is AWE-some; not in the same way that my favorite movie is awesome or that restaurant is awesome, but in a way that inspires awe in its truest form. And sometimes so many things can be amazing that I forget what it truly means to be amazed....to have that overwhelming sense of wonder, surprise, excitement.... It gets lost behind so many other mundane and mediocre words. I guess the truth is that we have no words to truly express our reaction to a God like ours. So we stumble over words that will never be enough.
I often feel this same sense of inadequacy in conversation with people. I have known for a long time that I am much more eloquent in print than in person. That has kept me from participating in a great many conversations over the course of my life, for fear of saying something unintelligent. It has also kept me from expressing a lot of emotion, for fear of saying something I don't really mean.
During the conversation with Bob on vocabulary, I tried to come up with a list of my top ten favorite words. It was much harder than I thought it would be. My number one favorite word right now is ethereal. It is a beautiful word that I can unfortunately never manage to get into conversation....
This blog post does not do justice to the concepts running through my head. My vocabulary, at this moment, is sadly lacking to express what I truly mean. For words are such interesting things...
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