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Happy Memorial Day.

I pray we all remember this is more than just barbeque day and the “official” start to summer. My thanks to all those that have served our country, giving their lives so that we can eat barbeque.

Contemporary services are great. No stuffy churches and organ music that sounds like it's from four centuries ago. A place where everyone feels welcome and can come as they are, with no pressure to dress a certain way. But sometimes I wonder if we've grown too comfortable in these “come as you are” services.

Jesus made God accessible, and I get the feeling He's the type of guy you could be yourself around, maybe have a beer with. If He were in the room, I think I could be comfortable around Him. Laugh and tell fun stories.

And yet, part of our God is still the holy, terrifying God of the Old Testament. Part of our faith lies in the fact that we are completely unworthy of the grace we've been offered. That God could strike us down in one second, and probably should.

Sometimes I long for a stuffy church and a beautiful Bach prelude played on that centuries old organ. I want to be in a place that “feels” holy, where people are quiet and reverent. A place I can be completely repentant in as I lay my sins at His feet. A place where people are fearful because of the mighty God watching them.

When I walk through the doors of a contemporary service, I don't always feel that I can do that there. I feel the pressure to be celebratory and excited. There's a feeling that I can waltz right into the Holy of Holies, with no repercussions.

I confess that I need to spend more of my own time confessing and laying prostrate before Him. I spend my life way too comfortable around God. I know I can chat with Him like a friend, but I would do well to remember who He is.

I'm honored to be guest posting today with Andi Cumbo. Andi is a writer, editor, and writing teacher. I was blessed to meet Andi at last year's Quitter conference, and loved her manifesto on the farm she is building. Andi is an extremely gifted writer and I'm glad I've gotten to know her.
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In the guest post, I share a little of how words were important to me at a young age. You can read it here.

If you're here from Andi's blog, thanks for stopping by.

I'm a little behind on sharing this, due to a nasty cough/cold/allergies/”the crud” that I've been recovering from. A couple weeks ago, the writing group that I'm a part of released a poetry ebook. FOR FREE. I had the privilege of having a poem published in it.

If you'd like to check out the ebook (did I mention it's free?), click here.
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This is why I don’t dance in worship.

I first “met” Andi Cumbo through a Twitter chat for writers that she led once a week. I then met her face to face last fall at the Quitter conference. We had some time to chat over dinner, and she shared a bit about her dream of building a farm; a respite for artists, musicians, and writers. I had been following her on Twitter and knew that she had bought the farm and was in the process of cleaning it up and making it ready for visitors.

Since meeting her face to face, I’ve followed her blog more closely. I had already fallen in love with her dream of a farm and was secretly envious. As I read more of her writing, I also fell in love with her passionate style of writing. She has true affection for the written word, and it shines through with each word she puts to page.

I was excited when she released an ebook about her farm and her vision for it. I didn’t realize how much it would touch me.

God’s Whisper Manifesto is a call to a beautiful life that I want to be a part of. She shares how the farmhouse will be a place of community, where everyone loves and respects each other. Everyone is valuable. At God’s Whisper, everyone will make good use of the resources available. People will be intentional,but not pretentious. Art, play, and the dinner table are valued and precious. There are blankets everywhere because sometimes you just need to snuggle under something. Coats and scarves are welcome to be used by all. There are walking trails everywhere, cozy spots all over, and no one pressuring you to be part of the group if you don’t want to. Stories are told and treasured, and people are helped in any way possible.

It sounds like a little bit of heaven.

As I read through this manifesto for the second time, it brought tears to my eyes. I want to drop everything and go live there. Then it dawned on me that this is what the church is called to be. Loving, accepting, fun, intentional.

As much as I want to drop everything in my life and go live on this magical farm with Andi, I realized that I need to bring a little bit of this manifesto into my own life, cozy blankets included. I think we all do.

I urge you to check out this book. It’s a quick read, but it has a big impact.

Recently, while reading I Samuel 15, I was troubled. The Old Testament often troubles me, with all it’s gory violence and crazy sacrificing. Sometimes I read some passages and they seem to go against the very nature of the God I believe in.

Here’s the first part of 1 Samuel, chapter 15.

Samuel said to Saul, “I am the one the Lord sent to anoint you king over his people Israel; so listen now to the message from the Lord. ² This is what the Lord Almighty says: ‘I will punish the Amalekites for what they did to Israel when they waylaid them as they came up from Egypt. ³ Now go, attack the Amalekites and totally destroy all that belongs to them. Do not spare them; put to death men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys.’”

Now, the whole point of the story is that Saul is disobedient to God. He doesn’t follow the instructions and spares some of the good cattle, thinking it would be a great idea to make a sacrifice to the Lord. You can read the rest of the chapter to see how he screwed up. But for right now, I’m just looking at these verses.

I get tripped up in passages like this. These instructions that come from God seem so counter intuitive to the gentle, loving God that is preached in our churches. Really, God? Kill everyone? Infants, children? Innocent little babies that are totally clueless? Sweet little bleating sheep that have done nothing?

I took an Old Testament course in college, and we spent lots of time poring over passages like this. I know that the Amalekites were evil, like reeeeally evil. I understand that God wanted to wipe out everyone, to take away all the temptations to be like these people. He was showing mercy to the Israelites, trying to help them out. I get that. But it still bothers me.

It’s easy to just read these words, to brush by them like reading a history textbook. But if I stop and think about it, it’s senseless violence. I struggle with the thought of my God ordering senseless violence.

I know that there are always more sides to the story, and we’re given limited knowledge in this particular story. There is so much going on that I could never understand. And the God I serve is complex and I will never fully understand why He does what He does.

And I also know that my God is big enough to handle my questions like, “Why did you order everyone killed? That’s so mean!!!” I can struggle through those questions and know that He still loves me, and in the end I still love Him.

Do you ever struggle with passages like this?

Sometimes, my heart longs for simple worship songs. When I’m too tired to think, when my soul is weary, the simplicity speaks to me. There is beauty in simplicity. But I don’t want to always stay at simple.

My short attention span has grown shorter these days. I find it hard to sit still, to leave my phone tucked away where I can’t see it. I can’t seem to read blog posts or articles longer than 500 words, and videos longer than 3 minutes never make it past the three minute thirty second mark. If a song requires too much thought, I just listen to the pretty music rather than engaging in the lyrics.

What is happening to my brain? I’m all over the place. I can’t take anything too long, too intellectual, too thought provoking.

Which is why I’m glad I spend two hours each Monday singing Mozart with my community choir.

Mozart is killing me. Seriously. His Mass in C minor is like a flipping book. There are so many eighth and sixteenth notes that my brain cannot keep up. Throw some Latin in there and my head feels like it may explode. The first few run throughs of the Kyrie, and I thought to myself, “AHHH! I’ll never get this!”

And then this week, the rhythms started to click. I was keeping up, on beat, and singing in Latin. Engaging in the lyrics and soaking up the beautiful harmonies.

I’m tired of the status quo that my brain seems satisfied with. I’m done with mediocre. I want to push myself hard and make myself think. Even in my worship time. Though there is a place for simple and easy, there is also a place for hard and thought provoking.

How do you worship through tough emotions? Sometimes I find that I worship better and even harder through tough times. But sometimes things like anger, confusion, and hurt get in the way.

As I sat through a tough memorial service last week, we sang a couple praise songs. I found it hard to sing along through the snot that was dripping from my nose and tears that wouldn’t stop. Beyond that, I was angry that God had taken a friend far too soon. I was also hurting. I felt numb from grief and just didn’t feel like praising God, to be honest.

Have you ever experienced a time like that? How do you handle it? For me, I’ve found the only thing I can do is offer it up to God. He’s big enough to handle my anger and tender enough to understand that I’m hurting. I just lay it out there.

And I felt a bit of His peace. It was itty bitty, but it cut through the anger and the hurt just the same.

This week life dealt a hard blow. My friend, Daniel, passed away this weekend.

Daniel was a member of my family of choice; the group of people that my husband and I get together with on a regular basis. I don’t know if I’ve ever met a sweeter, more gentler man than Daniel. It was rare to see him without a smile on his face, and his big, infectious belly laugh was more than enough to get the whole room laughing. He was often the first one to laugh at my husband’s inappropriate jokes, and would throw a hand over his mouth to try to hide the fact that he was laughing. He laughed with his entire body though, so we always knew.

Daniel loved church and worship and the community there. I know he looked forward to Sunday mornings with anticipation and served in as many ways as he could. He was always there to greet people with a big smile, and had a way of encouraging people. He was often seen taking a head count in the services, and my family of choice has joked that he’s probably taking a head count in heaven.

Daniel and I had a common bond over good coffee. He got hooked on Starbucks and we laughed together over our coffee snobbery. I gave him a coffee grinder, and he joked that there was no turning back after fresh ground coffee. He always came to me with questions, since I worked as a barista for a couple years. I was honored to be his coffee expert.

It sucks that he was taken so soon. I’m sad, mad, tired, frustrated, and my nose is tender from blowing so much. But I feel honored that I knew him. I rest in the knowledge that he is with Jesus, laughing his big belly laugh with Him. And he’s drinking way better coffee than me.

Daniel, you are greatly missed.