The pain of Mother’s Day

I love Mother's Day. Mothers have a tough job and deserve to be honored. But I gotta be honest; for the last six years, I don't enjoy being at church on Mother's Day. For one reason.

“Will all the mothers in the congregation please stand!”

I get it. It's a nice gesture to honor all the moms there. All the ladies that spend their entire morning herding children through the morning, barely giving their own appearance a second glance; they deserve that moment of recognition. The women who have raised children and have several beautiful grandchildren to brag on; they deserve it too.

It's just a really awkward moment for some of the rest of us.

I'm not a mother in the physical sense of the word. I haven't birthed or even raised an adopted baby. But I consider myself a mother. My children are just growing up halfway around the world without me. My three years spent with the African Children's Choir gave me 49 beautiful children that I was blessed to “mother.” They're growing up and some are practically legal adults now (???!!!), but they will ever remain in my heart.

If I stand during that moment in church, I will get funny looks and might even start rumors that I'm pregnant or something. So I sit, and feel a little sad about the kids that aren't a part of my physical life anymore.

I think of my sister in law, who went through the agony of waiting for an adopted baby. She has a beautiful son now, and can stand proudly as she cuddles that beautiful boy, but I'm sure the years of waiting made Mother's Day a painful reminder for her.

I found this post and thought it was beautiful. I hope you will take the time to read it.

And Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers, aunties, sisters, nannies, grandmothers, and friends out there.

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Christe and Foosball: Gratitude List

I'm struggling with gratitude this month. I've been feeling under the weather for several weeks, drowning in self pity. I'm having to dig deep to find things to be thankful for, which is exactly what I need right now.

  1. An orchestra tuning up. It's such a full, beautiful sound.
  2. The crisp diction of Latin words like “Christe” and “Kyrie.”
  3. Medicine and doctor's offices that see you within an hour.
  4. Great movies like Hitch when you're feeling down.
  5. My incredible husband who takes good care of me when I'm really pitiful.
  6. Spending time with my nephew: the only person I can beat at foosball.
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  8. Being featured with some pretty cool writers in a poetry ebook.
  9. Singing Mozart.
  10. Cough drops. Even though I hate the taste of menthol, it got me through this month. The encouraging messages helped too. 
  11. Strumming guitar as a stress reliever.
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Guest Post: Silverstride, Cafeteria Readings, and Childhood

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.

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Love Poems Deconstructed

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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Disrespect during communion

I'm angry.

I'm tired of people tromping all over communion time like it's not important. It's become another ritual that we do each week. We make our way up the aisle and gulp down the elements without really thinking about what it all means. I'm so tired of people disrespecting it.

I don't think most realize what they're doing. But I find myself super sensitive to the people around me. Those that look at me funny when I don't jump in line right away, because I choose to take a few moments in my seat to pray, reflect, and prepare. People that talk and visit and whisper as they wait in line.

I suppose for some, communion isn't a big deal. It's just something we do on Sunday morning. For me, it's incredibly important, and when those around me start whispering while I'm trying to pray, it's really disruptive.

One Sunday during communion, a woman interrupted my quiet time to compliment me on my dress. I appreciated the sentiment, but the timing was terrible.

Please, people. Communion is not social hour. Be silent and reverent, if for nothing else than out of respect for those who desperately need those few blessed moments of silence and reflection.
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Remember the great sacrifice our Savior made for us and how communion honors that sacrifice.

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My numb heart

I'm tired of tragedy. I'm tired of turning on the news and hearing things like the Boston Marathon bombing. There's so much tragedy going on that I'm starting to not feel much anymore.

I'm saddened, but I'm also numb. When I hear bad news, I get a glazed over look in my eyes and think, “Not again.” Then I sigh, throw up a half hearted prayer, and move on with life.

I used to feel a lot. After 9/11, I cried for days. I was glued to the news, not because I wanted to see more of the tragedy, but because I so desperately wanted to help, and it was the only way I felt close to the people hurting. Now when bad news strikes, I avoid the news. My heart just can't take anymore.

It's like my work in a retirement facility. I love my residents and serve them the best I can, but death is imminent when you work with seniors. Many mornings I come to work and see yet another death notice posted. I've just become numb to it, mainly out of a need to survive. You can't go all to pieces all the time. You have to pull yourself together and move on. There's still a job to be done.
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I don't want to be numb to everything, but at the same time I need to keep living. If I allow myself to feel too much, I'll be stuck to the news for days, letting sorrow consume my life.

I will pray, because it's all I know to do.

O God, we are stunned.
We cannot take it in.
It seems unreal and yet too real.
Bear with us in the pain of what has happened
and give us the healing of wounds that now run deep.
We make our prayer through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Adapted from Funeral Services of the Christian Churches in England, Canterbury Press, Norwich, 2002.

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Behind the Scenes Worship: Our Own Home

She was timid but had a smile that spoke the depths of her heart.

I had been with the African Children’s Choir six months when a new Auntie joined our ranks. Holly’s sweet spirit and kind heart endeared her quickly to the members of our team. She is a beautiful person, inside and out. She loved teaching the kids, and as a dancer, she taught some different moves to our rhythmically gifted children. She always had a servant’s heart, and was always looking out for ways to help others. She truly lived out Philippians 2:3-4:

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.

Holly and I bonded quickly. She shared of growing up in Wyoming, and how she had seen the African Children’s Choir at a young age. After the concert, she told her mother she was going to move to Africa one day. I don’t know if her mom realized how prophetic those words would become, but that was the dream that fueled much of Holly’s life after that.

Holly and I bonded even further when we were asked to go to another choir to help them start their tour. It was a tough decision to leave our kids, but Holly and I felt certain that God was leading us. One sad morning, she and I climbed into a stranger’s van on our way to the airport and a new adventure. I was a mess, sobbing and using up half a box of Kleenex. Holly was deeply saddened, but a lot stronger than me.
We entered into our new adventure excitedly, and found a new group of kids to love on. I figured we’d both stay with this choir for many months to come, but within six months, Holly was asked to join another choir. She once again felt God leading her. I was sad to watch my friend go, but so impressed at her faith.
We kept in touch through e-mail. Her long time vision of going to Africa was soon fulfilled. Her new choir was wrapping up their tour and heading home to Uganda. Holly went with them.
She’s been there ever since.
After landing in Uganda and helping her last choir get adjusted to life back home, Holly found some volunteer work in a nearby town called Jinja. There was an orphanage there, Amani Baby Cottage, and she jumped right in, gladly loving on these abandoned babies and children.
Meanwhile, I wrapped up my time on tour and went home. A few months later, I had the chance to go back to Uganda. While there, I saw Holly. I traveled with another choir chaperone. When Holly saw us, she enveloped us with big bear hugs. She proudly showed us around the beautiful town of Jinja, and my jaw dropped as I watched her ride a boda boda side saddle. (A boda boda is a small motorcycle used for public transportation. Local women ride side saddle, something I never could work up the nerve to do.) She even expertly haggled the price with the drivers, refusing to be taken advantage of. That timid girl I had met years ago had grown up into a confident young woman. I was so impressed.
She introduced us to her new children at the orphanage, and I was amazed at the work the volunteers did. It took lots of patience and love. I don’t know if I could have done it.
God was still working in Holly’s heart. She felt a burden for AIDS orphans. So she did something about it. She bought a house and began to turn it into her dream; a place for AIDS orphans to call home: Our Own Home.
While we were there, Holly took us to the house, which was still being remodeled and made ready for the children. The workers there greeted Holly with hugs and big smiles. I could tell how much they loved and respected her. The place was beautiful. Even though there were no children under that roof yet, I knew it was going to be amazing.
That was six years ago. Holly and I kept in touch through e-mail and Facebook. She continued to build up Our Own Home. She met and married a local Ugandan. They have two children of their own, along with the fifty or so other children they care for. Two of my fellow chaperones from tour visited and told me of how well she and Our Own Home were doing.
Unfortunately, life happened, and we fell out of touch for a bit. I still thought of Holly often. When I decided to start this Behind the Scenes Worship series, she was one of the first people I thought of. I looked on Facebook, but because of not great internet there and her busy schedule, she hadn’t had a chance to update much. So I googled “Our Own Home.” I found the website, and was amazed at what I saw.
This place is incredible. Holly took this small house and turned it into a beautiful home for these children that otherwise would have no place to go. I sent Holly an e-mail through the website. She replied, telling me how well they are doing. They’re in the process of building up a new property, because they’ve outgrown the one they have. If you’d like information on how to donate to this building project, click here.
I am so proud of Holly. A vision planted in her young heart has grown into an amazing ministry. I know Holly’s heart. She does all of this out of worship and her love for God. In her last e-mail, she stated:
It is hard to think of myself as someone who is worshiping in an unconventional way, because the path that brought OOH <Our Own Home> into existence was so much God’s making and not my own!  I was so scared to do this when He first started putting it on my heart.  To be honest, I didn’t think I wanted to do it!  The thought of being responsible for children’s lives, the fear of exposure to HIV (I didn’t know much about it then), and the reluctance to dedicate my life to staying in Uganda (culture shock had given me a hard time and I didn’t like the country much at first), all of those were factors that concerned me.  But, it was HIM, so how could I say no?  Then God started opening the doors in remarkable ways and, where else do any of us want to be except right where He is working?  He has been so good and I feel so blessed to be a witness to His work in these kids’ lives.  Maybe it will encourage someone reading your blog to know that God does not exclusively use individuals who are so bold and courageous on their own, but His strength is made perfect in our weakness.
I hope that you find encouragement from Holly’s story, and I hope you will visit her website to see all the things that Our Own Home is doing in Uganda.
Do you know someone who is worshiping behind the scenes? Leave a comment or send me a message via the contact page.

Start by Jon Acuff

Work, laundry, grocery shop, sleep, repeat.

It was the sad pattern that my life had begun to take. It wasn’t a bad life, but something was missing. As I trudged through each monotonous moment of my day, I felt a little empty.

I wanted to pursue some things I was passionate about. But I didn’t know how, so I never started. The rut I had created was safer, so I just stayed there.

Then I was introduced to the message of Jon Acuff. His book Quitter gave me hope when I needed it most. At a time when I was merely going through the motions of life, that book reminded me that I have goals and dreams that I don’t just want, but need to pursue.

His new book, Start, is no different. This book challenges the reader to be awesome. To pursue the things that matter. To not settle with mediocre.

I felt stuck before. I knew I had passions and dreams, but I didn’t know how to even begin. Start encourages you to do just that. START. Do something. The awesome may not come right away, but with practice, it will show up.

I highly recommend this book to anyone. Filled with his trademark humor and wit, Jon shares practical tips on how to pursue a life that is more than average.

The book officially comes out next week, but if you pre-order this week, you can get a bunch of freebies. Click the link on the homepage for more information.

Rethinking my resentments

I shared a big revelation recently: I’ve become disillusioned with Christian subculture. Now I’m struggling to figure out what to do with that.

My big problem is it defined me for so long. It defined my faith. It’s who I was as a Christian. Now that I’m redefining myself and stripping off so much of Christianity that disgusts me, it’s hard to figure out what kind of Christian I am now. I feel like I’m caught between the old goody-two-shoes-me and a new worldly me. I want a balance between the two.

I used to be the Christian that was absolutely offended by anything that wasn’t cleaned up for my eyes and ears. Once I discovered Christian music, I didn’t want to listen to anything else. It felt safer. My college boyfriend, who had a deep love of music, loaned me a Pink Floyd CD. It was one of his favorite albums and he wanted to share it with me. I was wary, because it just looked “evil.” I listened to about a track and a half, and grew incredibly offended by a couple of swear words. I gave it back to him, refusing to listen to anymore. He told me that if I could just get past those words, I might really enjoy the music. With my arms crossed in front of me, I refused. I would not come off my holy high horse.

Looking back on that, I’m ashamed. I wasn’t willing to come out of my safe bubble to engage with him musically, yet I played CCM music for him the entire length of our relationship. It was not his music of choice, but he lovingly listened to it with me. He never once said a bad word about it. He could have. A lot of what I played lacked originality or good musicality. Compared to his music collection, which ranged from that Pink Floyd album to Franz Liszt to every Billy Joel album in existence, my collection was pretty simplistic.

He was nothing but kind to me and my music, and I couldn’t give one of his favorite albums a single listen. He wasn’t a Christian, but sometimes he portrayed more Christlike characteristics than I did.

Now, I’d rather not listen to those CCM songs. I find them too simplistic and predictable. I listen to a bigger variety of music, mostly non Christian. I listen to songs that goody-two-shoes-me would be shocked at. I recently had the rap song, “Thrift Shop” stuck in my head for days (Don’t judge me like I used to judge all others, please). I’ve learned that many non Christian songs have really deep messages; messages that I think Jesus would agree with.

I don’t want to go back to goody-two-shoes, but I also don’t want to roll too far the other way. I still want to be conscious of what I’m listening to and watching, and careful not to feed too much “filth” into my head. I want to be in the world, open to other’s music choices and thoughts, all while remaining focused on Jesus.

It’s a struggle.

Question: Do you ever find yourself caught between the secular and the sacred? Where’s that “fine line” for you? What’s okay and what’s not?

Secular Worship Songs: Breathe Me

I ran across this song on Pandora and have become really intrigued by it. Upon listening to the lyrics, I thought it was perfect for another secular worship song.

“Breathe Me” by Sia

Help, I have done it again

I have been here many times before

Hurt myself again today

And the worst part is there’s no one else to blame

Be my friend, hold me

Wrap me up, unfold me

I am small, I’m needy

Warm me up and breathe me

Ouch, I have lost myself again

Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found

Yeah, I think that I might break

Lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Be my friend, hold me

Wrap me up, unfold me

I am small, I’m needy

Warm me up and breathe me

Be my friend, hold me

Wrap me up, unfold me

I am small, I’m needy

Warm me up and breathe me

I love the vulnerability of this song. I have been in this place so many times, feeling lost and small, crying out for help. I even love the vocal style, especially in the first verse. There are several parts where her voice breaks. It sounds like she’s been up all night and hasn’t warmed up vocally. Normally, I would hate that, but it works perfectly for the mood and message of this song.

I love the image of “Wrap me up, unfold me.” I see God taking us from the ashes and creating beautiful things, like only He can do.

Question: What are your thoughts on this song? Do you have a suggestion for a secular worship song?