Light in the Midst, Out Of, Despite, and Because of Dark: my Easter Day

I ask you for grace as Husband plays around with the videos I made last night. They all came out upside-down.

In the meantime, it is upside-down here in terms of weather, too. Which makes perfect sense on this Easter day.

Two thousand years ago, some thought Jesus couldn't be the true Messiah because he had just died on the cross. So, walking sadly away from Calvary, they thought the criminal whose death made the earth shake was just another dead criminal.

Still, some held out hope for their Teacher and Friend. Despite hopelessness and fear, upon hearing the news, Peter, John, and Mary ran to the stone-opened grave. The men entered to find the lone grave clothes. They were shocked, "saw and believed," yet did not understand that Jesus had truly risen (John 20:8-9).

And Mary, sweet Mary who thought the gardener had taken her Teacher someplace...Mary's eyes were opened upon Jesus' very poignant call of her name.

It amazes me that all Jesus had to do was call her by name and she could see who He truly was. It reminds me of the scales that fell off Saul's eyes. Both could see with holy vision afterward, though their "scales" were different.

I think our sky had scales today.

It was to be a cloudy day. The weather forecast said that Good Friday would be sunny and warm(er) and today, Easter, would be cloudy. I felt disappointed. Couldn't it be the other way around? Good Friday I'd be mourning. I wouldn't mind clouds. But Easter...oh, blessed Easter...as we released our balloons in church and as children ran back and forth in new, fancy dresses, as the sanctuary lit up with fragrant lilies and Allelujah's, wouldn't it be appropriate for the forecast to deem that day full of sun and light?

A pause in the weather forecast for a moment.

**************

Last night from 11:00pm-12:00am I went to the prayer vigil at my church.

Each person could sign up for a time slot and, as I explained earlier, it would be like sitting vigil beside a dying friend. Last year's prayer vigil was highly emotional for me and I awaited this with a pounding and full heart.

My hour was once again beautiful and God showed up, despite how I kept telling Him I was showing up for Him.

After an hour of writing, whispering, crying from the heart, singing, lighting candles, talking, finally it was time to rejoice.

This is my secret:

I saw Easter early.

I saw Easter last year, too. Sneaky, I know. But I was so curious as to what our sanctuary looked like.

Of course, I thought, is this okay? Can't I just take a peek?

I saw the dark narthex and, through the windows, dark seemed to sing.

Dark sang because I knew Life was there. I wanted to hear its song. 

I opened the doors. The scent of lilies filled my nose before I caught sight of the flower settings up front. I fumbled for lights and the only ones I could find were the ones up by the cross. The picture below is what I saw - unedited by any picture software ..this is the amazing light that filled the room.

Life pulsed through me. I could smell, feel, taste Life all around. Tears filled me to the brim - but not mournful tears as I'd been used to. I wanted to celebrate.

Last year, when I walked into the newly-Easter sanctuary, and I knew I was alone in the church so I sang Natalie Grant's song, "Alive" (see video later) with great passion. Last night, however, there were people in the prayer vigil room while I took my early glance at Easter so I walked around in awestruck silence.

Had I thought it would be any difference? Doesn't Easter happen every year?

Yet still, here I was, an innocent child dancing happy because Jesus Christ filled the room anew - all things new - Yes, we celebrate His resurrection and life every year, but shouldn't this be celebrated anew each year?

I was giddy. Light permeated me.

Life in the midst of darkness. Light out of darkness. Light despite darkness.

Light because of darkness.

That is Easter.

*****************
Let's return to the weather forecast.

I arrived at church early for the 9am service to practice with the Praise Team. While we rehearsed the songs for the morning, I noticed my face warm and lit, all lit up like how the prayer vigil candles lit up the night before.

It was the sun. Sun poured in the sanctuary windows.

And we sang and we proclaimed Jesus' resurrection and we prayed and we thanked God.

I thanked God all day for His upside-down Kingdom.

How the very least of us are loved, how the lowliest become kings and the most sacrificial become rich.

How the weatherman can call for clouds, but Jesus has other plans.

It's been an interesting day. I've found beautiful new music, such as this Jonathan and Emily Martin. On the web site, NoiseTrade, you can download their album for free (and tip them as you see fit, which I recommend). My favorite songs and the ones that have been on loud and repeat today are "Greatest Treasure" and "O Great Vine."

Here is Jonathan Martin giving you a preview and a bit of backstory about "Greatest Treasure."

I've worked on this blog entry all day, with my candle lit beside me and the sky holding onto that sun.

Easter day is drawing to an end and tomorrow is Monday.

No doubt we will face dark in days to come. That is guaranteed.

But what is beautiful about Jesus is that we are new in Him and He gives new mercies every morning (2 Corinthians 5:17 and Lamentations 3:22-23) and, when we love, believe, and follow the Christ...

the Monday after Easter isn't just another day.

Do listen to "Alive" by Natalie Grant. Watch the accompanying video, too. It is from the docudrama about Jesus by Olive Branch Media.  I am fascinated by the depiction of Jesus. No doubt the actor chosen will surprise you - for he does not look like the "normal" Jesus usually depicted. I love how they reenact this very much. I pray the music and video, both, minister to you, give you hope and a cause to celebrate and declare, "He is alive!"

Happy Easter, friends. I have truly enjoyed getting a chance to write on my blog with more frequency this week. I'm grateful to God for providing me with such time and opportunity. I do not know what the future holds in terms of time. I might not be able to continue writing here with great frequency. As seen, my blog ebbs and flows a bit. Though I would like more consistency, God calls me to focus on my husband and children more than my blogging pursuits. I know, however, that God will use my writing to glorify Him in whatever way He sees fit. In the meantime, I thank you, dear friend, for stopping by for a bit and taking in my words, thoughts, and heart. 

Have a blessed Easter and every day that follows.

Finding Grace While Living Lent

My church had a fabulous congregational-wide journey called "Unbinding the Heart," which is part of the "Unbinding the Gospel" series found over at gracenet.info . It is a journey that consists of small groups gathering, praying together, and talking about how their church as well as each individual can have a deeper relationship with God.

I joined this journey, but it definitely did not become the destination I thought I was journeying toward.

Pastor told me this would be "right up my alley." He told me back at Christmas that we were doing this Lent study that was very "me-ish" and I'd love it. All through the Christmas season I awaited Lent like it was Christmas Day. Odd thought, isn't it.

When it came time to start the 40-day journey of "Unbinding the Heart," I found myself in a very stressful time of year. Or of life. I'm not sure because I feel like we've been racing through life at crisis-intervention-speed for the past two years. All I know is that things felt like they were colliding once I started meeting on Saturdays for one hour in my small group.

Mind you, I was excited. I yearned to get to know people more personally at my church. I yearned to make some friends in this tiny town of mine. We moved here two and a half years ago, but I still feel very new and out of place. And besides, I was excited to delve into the book that accompanied this journey because it had homework.

I was excited to have faith homework. Yes, if I had my way, I'd go back to school - divinity school if I could really dream - and I'd study the Bible day and night and talk theology and faith and God-passion 24/7. However, God has placed me in this family, in this town, in this job, in this place of life.

"Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure." ~ Psalm 16:5

So while I couldn't go to divinity school or even to the local cafe to read and write all day long, I could attend a small group one hour per week and do this prayer journal daily and read a chapter a week. I thought I could. I knew I could. This was "up my alley."

"Me-ish."

I had no idea how much grace had to be given. Before given, it had to be realized. Then accepted. How much grace our Lord has!

We often don't realize the amount of grace God gives until after we learn the hard lesson. 

So weeks went by and I did go the small group meetings on each Saturday (I missed one due to family business), but for the life of me I couldn't do the very things that made this so exciting and fun and "up my alley" and "me-ish."

I couldn't do what made me me.

I couldn't find time to read the chapters. I couldn't find time to take notes. I didn't read each daily prayer exercise.

Who was this person I had become? Why was I not enjoying this group? What was holding me back? I would join the five or six other people on Saturdays and they'd each be going through their own struggle and we'd all pray about it and talk about it.

How could I tell them that my problem was this journey? That I wasn't journeying on this journey with them?

It finally came out at the second to last group. I had it pent up in me for so long: this anger at myself, this disappointment that I was not getting everything I could out of this group. Why was I not getting this?

Those words, well-intentioned yet haunting, kept ringing in my ears: "but this is so 'you.'"

This 40-day journey during Lent, one of my favorite times of the year...Lent...when I want to delve into Christ's journey to the cross...when I want to meditate on what sacrifice and love and commitment mean...when I want to feel so much closer to God as I watched His Son carry that ugly beautiful punishment on His back - all for us - I wanted to be getting so much more out of it all.

I wanted to live for the King. I wanted to live every day breathing every breath, speaking every word, singing every song for the Lord.

On that day I burst into tears with my small group and finally confessed to my not-doing-it-right and my anger at this not being me-ish at...

the group said the very thing Pastor told me many times in emails responding to my cries for help:

"There is grace for you."

They spoke of grace and how we don't need to do it all right or do it the same way. It's okay, they said. It's okay.

And I thought about what I had been doing the past 40 days.

We had a huge crisis with one of our children and had to attend to that, more intensely than usual, for about a week. I was going through my usual but always-forgotten-about-Season Affective Disorder. Husband and I were having marital issues and trying to lean more on God for understanding. I was lonely for friendship. I was insanely busy helping Miss G with her 3rd grade homework (along with Husband) and I think she actually had 3 huge projects going on at the same time and is still at the point of needing one-on-one help with homework. The youngest, Mr. A, began acting out in Kindergarten (my shy, sweet little boy?) and I needn't go into the eldest's problems. Additionally, a close family member had significant surgery which threw me out of whack and into much fear. My own physical ailments continued to plague me.

And through it all? I still prayed. I tried my best to attend Lenten services on Wednesday nights. I prayed more. I sang. I went to Praise Team rehearsals and also practiced for our big concert in April. I went to work meetings and to therapy sessions and worked my tail off talking with insurance people and mental health professionals trying to help a family member in need. And I prayed more. I kept praying.

I never stopped praying and I didn't exactly change my mode of praying, either. I realize now that it's a wonder that with all that chaos and busyness that I didn't lessen in prayer. That I didn't get "too busy" for God. Because that can happen all too easily.

But I didn't forget God. I talked with Him every single day. I even cried out to Him about my frustration with this Unbinding journey I didn't think I was joining.

I almost quit and threw in the towel. Husband confronted me and told me I had over-committed myself. The family needed me. The family missed me. I felt torn and angry and confused. But I took it to God.

Show me where I have filled my spirit up with anything other than You, Lord.

I asked God to reveal to me what I needed to keep and what I needed to let go.

The answer was surprising.

I stuck with Unbinding. I took out my Wednesday night Lenten worship. I continued to help with homework and facilitate emails with teachers and therapists, but I let go a little. Okay, I let go a lot. I recalled my first Holy Week and Easter as a Christian and how I rejoiced in all the revelations and amen-azing moments I had:

2011 Easter-related blog entries:
In Preparation
The Waiting Game
Darkness Comes
Forsaken
He Has Risen Indeed
Not Like a Birthday

How prolific I was that year! How many books I read on Lent and Easter, how many devotionals I did!

But this year? I couldn't even do my homework.

But there is grace. There is grace in not doing homework and grace in not meeting up with the prayer partner for hours over coffee and hushed tones. There is grace for not filling out every blank space in the book.

I still prayed. I still followed God and read the Word and knelt in the presence of the Lord. I wasn't blogging or journaling or doing writing of any kind. I wasn't sharing exciting revelations with others. I wasn't reading and finishing books on Lent. I didn't even get to consistently follow my favorite blogs like I normally would.

Instead, I served my family and tried to care for myself as well as for them. My family - these three kids and my husband - this is the ministry God has called me to have, these four people He has called me to serve right here, right now.

And so that first Wednesday Lenten worship I did not attend, we had "church" had home and didn't even plan it. Miss G and I were making a Spring-themed wreath and we ended up, somehow, talking about Heaven and Hell. It had been a while since my curious 9-year-old stepdaughter asked any God-questions, but here she sat with tears streaming down her cheeks confessing things to me that squeezed her heart so much she dared to whisper that she didn't think God would let her into Heaven.

And so the Holy Spirit filled me (as well as my own mothering nature) and I spoke Truth to that young girl so passionately that you would have thought I was doing the evangelizing the "Unbinding the Heart" book talked about. I told my girl that once she believed in Jesus and loved and followed Him that she was a new creation - her old self was gone, her past sins wiped clean, and she became a new creation. I spoke of God's perfect love and how God can see directly into the very center of her heart so He knows her truest feelings. I spoke the Truth that she needed to hear that night. If I hadn't sacrificed going to service that night, I would have missed ministering to my growing-up-girl in an intensely necessary way.

I was living Lent. Not reading or writing about it. I was living Lent. Look at the ELCA web site and what they say Lent is: basically,  prayer, sacrifice (fasting or adding something), and service.

I think about what Lent has looked like this year and I see that I have not done as much meditating as in years prior, but I have lived it. I have prayed and I have made sacrifices for my family and I have served them in ways deeper than any time before.

God was having me live Lent this year instead of blogging, reading, and talking about it.

This is not to say that I got the "living Lent" aspect all "right" and perfect. I still made mistakes just like I made mistakes with the Unbinding the Heart journey. But we are human and, in Christ, there is grace.

So as I continue to pray and seek love, forgiveness, grace, I continue to watch Jesus as he stumbles under the weight of that horrible, terrible cross, as He endures more pain than I can ever imagine, as He absorbs all of our failed church activities and missed appointments, our snapping at our kids and yelling at our spouses. I watch Jesus die for you and for me and I think - I must think - about what that truly means.

Living Lent has brought me to new realizations this year.

Maybe I have grown in faith this season, without even realizing.

What You Find When You Peel Back the Tree

Copyright (c) <a href='http://www.123rf.com'>123RF Stock Photos</a>

The past two Christmases I've written excitably about the season, feeling inspired and touched by the meaning, the reality of it all.

The past two Christmases are the first two that I've truly known Christ.

This Christmas? There are more unexplained tears and more family-tension. More little problems and more big crises. There is more nagging and more needing-to-go-for-a-walk to get away from it all.

My blog has been quiet, waiting patiently for my return and I begin to think: who is the author - is it me? What is this blog? Who reads it?

The normal writer-doubts fill my head and tell me that I'm not good enough, that I don't write well enough. I hear the lie that I should just return to angst-ridden poetry instead of faith-filled personal writing because that, at least, got me ....

say it. Say it.

Attention. Accolades.

Shiny ornaments on my tree of success.

Oh, but I think about what I've learned in the past 2 years about God's upside-down Kingdom and I re-read what I just wrote.

The angst-ridden poetry may have gotten published widely and a few awards here and there...but the truly fulfilling writing did not come until I started this blog, until I started writing for my church newsletter, writing more intimately in my prayer journal and my regular journal, when I began my gratitude journal.

When I began the dialogue with God I became the writer I wanted to be.

Maybe not the writer that would get me accolades and awards. But the writer I know I was meant to be.

The angsty poetry had its place back then. But I am a new creation and I cannot nor should I discount the transformation within done by God.

So who is the author of this blog?

My dear friend, Michele, says on her blog that "Life's Author is God."

And I want that desperately. I want to surrender so much - all of myself - to God so that He is truly the Author of my everything.

I want God to be the author of this blog and I the mere vehicle.

I look at the metaphorical tree I have set up in front of me. I notice the ornaments are those of ingratitude, complaint, grief, sadness, depression.

I fight all those things on a daily basis, but this season has been especially hard. I read so much inspiration on my favorite blogs and I then play the comparison game. Why can't I do that? Write that? Feel that? Be that?

I don't want to feel this much grief for my mother, six years gone. Why am I feeling it so much more now?

I don't want to get this crabby on a daily morning basis.

I come home after my 40 minute drive and I am ready to go, having put the Armor of God from Ephesians 6 on, prayed in the car, told God I was ready to face the evening. And then to walk through the door to some crisis. It feels like it's every day. It just might be every day.

And in all of it - (I took a weekend break a few weeks back and learned this -) I know to give thanks.

Practice Eucharisteo. Practice giving thanks during the hard times.

So maybe this Christmas, for me, won't have the jolliness past ones have had. It isn't seeped in my mother's apple cider. It doesn't sing with Barbra Streisand's unique rendition of "Jingle Bells." We haven't done a family picture this year and I haven't sent out Christmas cards (how strange) because we've just been trying to survive.

Maybe this Christmas is more about what I learned that weekend I went away to be with God. Maybe it is about giving the hard thanks.

Maybe this Christmas I will peel the leafy evergreen branches back and reveal the bare tree underneath. It isn't about presents for me this year. It's about His Presence.

Not the decorated evergreen tree

but the bare tree that became a cross where Jesus gave His life for me

picture from http://www.dayspring.com/tree_to_cross_3_christmas_ornament/

and through tears (maybe explained, maybe unexplained) and heart-pains I give the hard thanks. I turn my head up and, amidst the frightening teenage choices and the whiny kindergartener and the starting-to-get-moody-tween and the marriage bumps and doctors' shrugs, I give thanks.

I give thanks to You, Lord. I give thanks because You deserve it and so much more. I give thanks because I am thankful that I know how to give thanks. For that is truly what saves me every time, in my deepest and loneliest and scariest times: counting Your gifts. I lived so much of my life feeling lost, Lord. This Christmas, I thank you for leading me, stone by stone, footprint by footprint, year by year, to You. I am choked up when I think about how You have saved me. How You sent Jesus down as a baby born in a dirty, filthy feed trough instead of a regal chamber.  I am amazed at how You, this baby grown into God-Man, have pursued me - me! - all of my life, and still do! How you ask me to sit at Your feet. This girl who looked in the mirror and hated herself. Who saw dirt and filth. You ask me to see what You see, Lord. You are the Savior I always knew I wanted but never could understand until now. And not only do I want you, but I need You, Lord. Jesus, I need You.

It feels odd to be writing so nakedly about myself now - here - at Christmastime when I feel I ought to be writing about Jesus and His birth and the Gospels. I wrote my first year of blogging here about Joseph being a great example of a stepparent and I shared different music videos contemplating the amazing situation Mary found herself in. And an interesting blog entry from December, 2011, about the yoke Jesus asks us to take on and about Christmas expectations.

Is this December, almost-Christmas, blog entry appropriate reading for this season?

I can't answer that right now. Somehow, though, I know God works through my heart and into my fingertips. Somehow, He can write me out of this confusion.

From a bare cross, God folds out my branches until, in Him, I am a beautiful tree, ever-green with glory as I shine with all He will do through me.

I hope to write again before Christmas. I can't promise, but I will try. Until then, may you keep your eyes on Jesus this season.

And does any peeling need to happen in your life? Certainly an interesting notion...

Now, if you'd like, sit back and listen to a beautiful song I just discovered:
"Becoming" by Christine Dente

Blessings be yours...

Living Every Day in a Holy Way

Now that the holidays are over, what are you going to do? What are you thinking about as New Year's approaches? Ah-ha! May I take a guess? New Year's resolutions? Those sometimes lofty or attainable goals we lay out for the upcoming year.

Do we lose weight? Spend less time on the computer? Spend more time with the kids? Take more walks? Be nicer to a difficult co-worker?

But the new year doesn't have to be about hope turning into perceived failure. We can make every day count as a holy day - by being intentional about living our lives in a holy way.

You can still use your resolution list for this. You can still try to lose weight, but do it for the right reason: to be full of the Living Water Jesus wishes to give, to be full of spiritual food, not the junk food we crave. We can still spend less time on the computer, but make it holy by spending more time in God's Word and in God's presence. We can still spend more time with the kids, take more walks, be nicer to that co-worker. All this can be done with holiness in mind. With Jesus in mind.

So don't think of resolutions as lofty goals that you make and break by the end of the month. Be intentional about living every day in a holy way. Be the hands and the feet of Jesus. Count blessings as you drive to work in the morning or as you wake up to start your day. There are so many opportunities to start over this year, no matter how bad the last year had been. God given us each a new day, makes us a new creation:

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" (2 Corinthians 5:17 NIV)

I wish you a most blessed 2012 full of love, peace, and joy.