The other 166...

I was listening to K-Love today and heard the DJs talking about "the 166"...There are 168 hours in a week. We spend roughly 2 hours of that in church. What are we doing with the other 166 hours???

• Are we carrying that sermon with us?
• Are we focused on living like Christ?
• Do we live in prayer as we advise others to "pray about" whatever is troubling them?

I am uplifted in church. I sing passionately, take notes in my sermon journal, and discuss the topics with my husband over brunch. But do I live each hour as passionately, with as much thirst as I do in church. Honestly, no. But I make that choice each hour, each situation. I usually know what I'm supposed to do, and if I don't, I know I'm supposed to pray about it.

Those notes that I wrote during the sermon, the scripture and quotes that really spoke to me, the ones that seem as if it was God saying "Michele, THIS is what you do in this situation. THIS is how I want you to see your life, yourself, others, your purpose, etc." Do I even open the book any other day but Sunday? Do I read the Bible each day and pray for God to reveal himself to me?

Sometimes I patiently wait for the person in the car in front of me to figure out where they are going and sometimes I cuss them as I jam on the gas to go around them. Sometimes I let those frustrating moments pass, sometimes I let them get me in a bad mood for the rest of the day, and sometimes I ask God to move the mountain that lies ahead of me...and he usually does! (And if he usually does, why don't I ask more often?)

The truth is that I am learning. I am practicing. I find myself pausing for a split second to decide whether I should take it to God or handle it on my own, whereas two years ago, I barreled into every situation (or cowardly ran from it) according to my own feelings and judgement. More and more I choose to take it to God. As I grow through Christ I find that He has a much better track-record than I do. And if I don't take it to Him the first go 'round, I'm usually returning to Him for forgiveness or asking Him to mop up the mess that I have created.

When I heard the question about the 166, I immediately began to doubt myself. I just knew from the get go that I was not doing all that I could to bring Sunday to each day of my week. But then my best friend and my child's day-care mom called to tell me the most beautiful thing. She was singing "Motions" by Matthew West (a Contemporary Christian song) and my daughter reacted as if a light bulb went off in her head and she said, "My mommy sing that song and her smile!"

So maybe I'm not living like Christ everyday, but I'm trying. And my daughter sees it. If that is God's only purpose for me, to show my daughter and teach her how to follow not in my footsteps but in Christ's, then that is good enough for me. And while I still struggle with each of the 166 hours that I am not in church, the important thing is that I return on the 167th to try it all over again.

Prayer...the ultimate test of intimacy.

Have you ever prayed with anyone? Not silently, in church, after we take communion. I mean, have you ever prayed WITH anyone? I'm the one who lets everyone else pray. They always have something more appropriate to say. And, while I am learning more and more about the Bible everyday, I wish I could quote scripture the way my friend Connie does...she is such a prayer warrior! It's so difficult to find the words when you're on the spot like that. I would much rather write, when I can use the backspace button as many times as I like and no one will be the wiser.
My husband and I each belong to our own small group or "Life Team" as our church calls them. I have been with the most ecclectic, yet wonderful group of women for well over a year now, whereas my husband has been with his for about a month. His is led by our preacher, so he gets homework, whereas mine is a little more laid back. :D
Anyway, his homework was to pray with his family. We say grace every night. DONE, right? No, he says, we have to pray together, not just the pre-written "God is great, God is good..."
And I'm smiling as he tells me this because I'm really nervous--I don't pray out loud in front of other people. Then he tells me that he was supposed to do it for homework the week before, but he didn't because HE was too nervous...phew! You must understand, my husband is the eternal salesman and, in his own words, lacks the filter that most of us have between our brains and our mouths. So to hear him say that he was nervous made me feel much better about my own insecurities. (Only two people have the address to this blog right now...that's how big of a wuss I can be!)
Why is it such a big deal to pray with other people, especially the person that supposedly knows everything about you? It's a level of intimacy beyond anything I have ever experienced. Maybe it's because I know that God really knows everything about me, even the things that I won't admit or don't know myself. And I'm worried that somehow that knowledge might be shared with my husband as he listens to me speak to God. I know that God loves me unconditionally, but can my husband? No! No one can have love as perfect as God's.
We took the leap though. I requested that we pray in bed, once the lights are off, so I won't be so self-conscious. (Sounds like something else is about to happen for the first time, right?) Then I choked...I couldn't find the words to start. So my husband, spiritual leader that he is trying so hard to be, says one of the most beautiful prayers I have ever heard. I did add a few tidbits of my own when he was finished...baby steps! But now it's like the ice has been broken. We have crossed a threshold of intimacy that just days ago I could not have imagined.
I can't wait to see where we grow together...

I saw God today

I had the pleasure of being blessed with a wonderful day at work! I teamed up with a colleague to try to get some new "accounts" for the non-profit organization that we work for. We took a drive east and visited the great little towns that nobody knows about that are just hiding in the mountains, not wanting to be discovered. Also hiding in these small towns are some people with VERY big hearts. They are willing to do anything they can and give anything they have to take care of their neighbors. They make the time to sit and talk with you, knowing that in the end you are going to want something from them. Because that's what they want...another opportunity to help.



I am so grateful for the opportunity to meet, work and LEARN from so many generous and caring people. These are the types that motivate me and remind me daily that our mission, and my part in it, is worthwhile. They are a living example of the kind of person that God wants me to be.



Then there were the views that only God could have created. As we drove the winding back roads from town to town, we would almost hold our breath, waiting for the view that would be revealed through the break in the trees ahead. The green, leafy, tree-covered mountains of Daniel Boone National Forest extended as far as the eye could see...God's country.



We rounded another curve and felt the temperature drop as we descended into the valley. We were shaded by the exposed rock face that reminded us that just a couple of decades earlier this road wasn't here. We could feel a slight rise in humidity and smell the freshness of the water that was still running down the side of the mountain after the intermittent rain that we have been cursing for over a week. We were reminded that these views and this amazing sensory experience would not be near what it was had we not received the gift of plentiful spring rain.

Absolutely divine...I saw Him today. I saw Him everywhere.

The dilemma of organized religion

So the next step in my journey was to approach my husband about going to church. He wasn't crazy about the idea. And to be honest neither was I. But, I wanted to have an appointment with God. One that was set each week for me...because the road to Hell is paved with good intentions and I "intended" on reading the bible and seeking my own personal relationship with God. But I know me. I procrastinate. I don't always follow through with my self-imposed deadlines, rarely in fact. But a deadline or appointment set by someone else, I am on it! Anyway, I wanted to get to know God, wanted to be able to teach Maddie about Him, but I didn't want all of the "religion" that was undoubtedly going to come along with going to church. I wanted faith, wanted to feel good, be uplifted, but I didn't want to be a "sheep".
There's the dilemma people...we ARE sheep when it comes to our relationship with God and our shepherd, Jesus Christ. One of the most meaningful sermons I heard at our church finally got me to lay this inner quarrel down. I still don't want to be a sheep in the sense that I blindly follow whatever interpretation of scripture that is handed to me, but I do sucumb to being one of Jesus' sheep. Sheep need a shepherd because they will continue to do the same thing over and over again, go to the east looking for water when they have been to the river day in and day out and it's always been to the west. They will starve, and become dehydrated and die without a shepherd to lead them to their most basic needs. And I was starving! Starving for understanding, security, something to help me raise my child in the turmoil of this world.
I have taken many mindless detours off this journey to Christ...going back to some of my old mindsets, behaviors and obsessions. And I always will. But each time I attend that Sunday service, each time I hear the prayers of the women in my small group, each time I volunteer in the nursery with my husband, I am proud to be one of His sheep. Because I have learned that even though I need this herd, and more importantly this Shepherd, to keep me from blindly walking over the edge of the cliff, I am not just anyone. He knows me by name. He works miracles in my life. He listens to me and teaches me, even when I am too stubborn to listen. He follows me, even as I follow Him.
So many people say that they believe in God but do not join a church because they don't like organized religion and they don't like hypocrites. I was one of them. But the truth is that we need that structure to grow as Christians. It's so hard to hear God on our own, whether the problem is our ears or what's between them! We need to be surrounded by His people so that we can truly get His message. You may hear it from someone that is truly righteous, or you may see it in someone that is not...sometimes that is just as motivating. But being there, surrounded by His people, encouraged by those that are further in their faith journey, and excited for those that aren't is what grows you enough to want to share it.
I vowed that I would not be one of those hypocrites. But in order to do that, I need to be willing to share the love that I have found (and am still learning about) with others. Since I haven't reached the point where I feel comfortable "witnessing" to others face to face, this is where I will start. This is my baby step. I urge you to join me. We are all Christ's children, and as you will hear in this song, "Jesus paid too high a price to pick and choose who get's to come."
Who's coming with me?

In the beginning...

I was raised on the East Coast in a loving family. I have two parents that are still together, after more than 30 years of marriage, and a sister with a heart of gold. My family didn't go to church on a regular basis. We were what some might call "Chreasters"--we went to church on Christmas and Easter. My life was not completely devoid of Christ, but he wasn't on the forefront of our minds either. We were raised with basic Christian, and in my opinion, common decency principles...don't lie, cheat or steal. Work hard and act responsibly. Do unto others, etcetera, etcetera.
I wasn't baptized because my parents denominations did not agree on whether I should be baptized at birth or be left to make the choice on my own. I went to vacation bible school a few times when I stayed with my Grammy in Ohio. I went to church occasionally after sleepovers with my friends once I hit middle school/high school age. Usually Catholic...there were lots of Catholics. I joined UMYF in my sophomore year of high school and went on several retreats and participated in Appalachian Service Project. In all these exposures, I don't remember anyone "inviting" me to get to know Christ and accept Him as my personal Savior. Church was an obligation. Youth group was a social event.
And anyway, I hadn't survived any particularly tragic events, hadn't suffered any traumatic abuse, hadn't even grieved the loss of a loved one...so, why would I need Christ? Better yet, why would the Lord, Jesus Christ, even bother with me? With so many injustices, illnesses and tragic excuses for life in this world, surely he's got something better to worry about than helping me through my ordinary life.
Nothing drove me to Him. No one told me I wouldn't go to Heaven (except the crazy Bible-beater on the corner by the library at UT). Besides, everyone I knew that was "religious" was weird. They didn't cuss, didn't drink (not even a drop), and couldn't have a conversation without mentioning what God had "told" them to do. I've prayed before. I pray now. Why isn't God's voice CLEAR to me? He must not feel the need to advise me, after all, as I said before, he's surely got something better to do.
And then it went beyond me. I got the fear. I had my first child and I looked in her eyes...and I saw Him. He was all over her. I love my husband; he is a wonderful man. I'm surely not the best, but not too bad either. But there is NO WAY that we made this beautiful, perfect, little girl on our own. There is no way that she grew inside of me, with all ten fingers and ten toes in the right place, because of something that we did. Her toes would have been on the wrong feet, or something would have been forgotten. But it wasn't. He made her. I remember thinking...now we have to raise her. This perfect little child will be raised by two imperfect people. I will undoubtedly screw this up somehow. I have got to do something. We have got to get help. And that is what drove me to Him...