My English II students have kicked the year off with "The Pearl," by John Steinbeck. If you've read Steinbeck ("Of Mice and Men," "The Grapes of Wrath," or "East of Eden") then you know how gloomy and raw he can be.
"The Pearl" is all about the pain of wanting a thing too much and the tragedy that thing can befall humanity when it is found. Very seldom does life work the way it was intended, and humanity becomes animalistic and broken.
This particular Steinbeck work revolves around the journey of a native Mexican family who find the pearl of the world amid great poverty, then have to fight to keep that pearl and risk everything. As the story begins, the native roots focus strongly on tradition and culture. The protagonist, Kino, lives by the beat of the Song of the Family, a song his father and grandfather lived by, but occasionally, the Song of Evil creeps in.
I asked my sophomore students to pen their songs... What beat do they march to? What defines them? What sets them apart? What rhythm might their life song take?
The honesty of several students shocked me. Some of my students are broken and weary.
Here are a few of the songs that stood out.
"My song would involve a lot of pain and anguish. It would scream instability as well as misunderstanding. Their wouldn’t be a light at the end of the tunnel, no happy ending, and certainly no signs of family. In my song I would be alone facing the problems of the world, experiencing no mercy or remorse, just pain and anguish. My mask may be impenetrable but my song is raw and vulnerable."
"My song would probably be a mix of sadness and happiness. I’m generally a happy person but then again, I’m sad at times also. It’s usually easy to tell when I am sad about something. But the majority of the time my song is a happy one which I’m guessing that is what a lot of peoples songs are. My music would mainly be a mix of slow music and rap or something in that area."
"My song would be about… a happy, but troubled girl who tries not to show the troubled side of her. So she tries to fit in. She is a small girl with a big personality, but doesn’t know what to do with her personality (meaning how to make it have a purpose in her life). She is scared, it’s part of her troubled side, same with her past, so she hides that along with everything else she is holding inside from the world. She wants to not care anymore, but puts up with too many judging people. She’s a cute young lady who is clean cut, but on the inside she is a mess. One of her favorite things to do is listen to songs she can relate to, and think about the lyrics. The beat would be slow, a soft tune, not depressing, but one that makes you think. It would be one of those nice slow songs by John Mayer or He is We. You could even put it as a rap, but it would relate more to Indie."
"My song is a very different one. As I walk around and move about my day, there is a beating drum faintly in the background playing endlessly. And then when something strikes my emotions, whether it be for good or bad, a bass guitar and electric guitar join in with the drum changing the tempo of my day. What happens next is entirely dependent on the day, the people, and what is happening. Because at that moment there is a silence. Then all at once every instrument starts up loudly, capturing my attention and the words vary on what is happening. It could be a song of idle bliss, or a song of utter chaos and anger. Sometimes it turns into a song with an underlined meaning that hides from plain sight, building up and up until it almost bursts into a song of panic and sadness, with anger and hate exploding from my soul. And then all at once, everything goes silent."
"My song, I would have to say, is the Song of Difference. Why? I’ll tell you. My whole life I never fit in with all the other kids because I choose to be who I am and not who others choose to make me into. I am independent! I am proud! I am me and no one will change it. I don’t’ care what others think of me or the names I’m called. What I care about is myself and the people who choose to accept me how I am. My song sounds rebellious, almost metal but more of a postcore style.
"My song is the song of peace. One of the things I cherish most is when everyone gets along, with no fighting or rudeness towards others. Also, in my song I am for standing up for others. I could live my whole life being there for people. If it is for friends, family, strangers or enemies. If they need help I am there. My song would be fast with the sound of laughter in it. It would have a lot of percussion in it. I would listen to my song morning and night and when I am down or sad."
One student mentioned the band He is We. Here is one of the band's songs I stumbled upon today, which has surprisingly striking lyrics.
Happily Ever After
He is We
Let me riddle you a ditty, it's just an itty bitty, little thing on my mind.
About a boy and a girl, trying to take on the world one kiss at a time.
Now the funny thing about, ain't a story without it, but the story is mine.
And I wish you could say, that it ended just fine.
We all want to know, how it ends.
Oh, happily ever after, wouldn't you know, wouldn't you know.
Oh, skip to the ending, who'd like to know, I'd like to know.
Author of the moment, can you tell me, do I end up, do I end up happy?
Inhale, breathe steady, exhale, like you're ready, if you're ready or not.
Just a boy and a girl gonna to take on the world, and we want to get caught.
In the middle of a very happy ending, let's see what we've got, let's give it a shot.
Let's give it a shot.
We all want to know, how it ends.
Oh, happily ever after, wouldn't you know, wouldn't you know.
Oh, skip to the ending, who'd like to know, I'd like to know.
Author of the moment, can you tell me, do I end up, do I end up happy?
We all have a story to tell.
Whether we whisper or yell.
We all have a story, of adolescence and all it's glory.
We all have a story to tell.
Oh, happily ever after, wouldn't you know, wouldn't you know.
Oh, skip to the ending, who'd like to know, I'd like to know.
Author of the moment, can you tell me, do I end up, do I end up happy?
We all have a story to tell.
We all have a story to tell.
We all have a story to tell.
We all have a story to tell.
These kids really all do have a story to tell, and some of them have lived entire lifetimes in their fifteen years.
I catch myself saying, "God, why am I here!" I can get so angry, and lonely, and tired.
And then I get a glimpse of how my students feel. And I'm convicted. Because I know Love, and I have hope, and eternal joy is coming!
What better place to be then here, where students are hungry for hope, and joy, and Love?
Kooskia, Idaho may be broken, but He is whole.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Refreshing Wisdom
My father-in-law, Don, is turning fifty. Tomorrow! The joy of birthdays ebbs and flows, but fifty should be a memorable one. Josh and I had dinner with Don and Patty, as well as an older gentleman, Harold, from the Weippe church.
Dinners with Don and Patty are always a bit reviving for me. There aren't many people I feel free to let my hair down with here, and Josh is kind of in the same boat. When you become "the pastor" or "the teacher," the circle of trust shrinks a bit. I don't know if that happens to everyone, but it sure has happened to us, so we relish the moments when we can be real.
Sitting around a card table on our porch, waiting to eat food from Dutch ovens, laughing back and forth as we shared stories, Harold was asked to pray for the food.
"Lord, today was a good day. And you've given us lots of good days. Thanks for saving us..."
Harold finished praying, then he told us a story.
Back in Harold's youth, he knew a man who turned every opportunity into a "God moment."
This un-named friend was out late one evening, and someone tried to rob him. With a gun in his ribs, Harold's friend began to laugh. The robber said, "What's so funny," and the man reached around to his wallet, opened it, and showed the robber just how much money he had: zero.
Harold's friend asked the robber if he'd like to come up to his apartment for some food. "I don't have any money, but I've got food, and you're welcome to it."
Harold said they talked late into the evening, and by 4:00 in the morning, the robber was on his knees yelling, "Lord! Save me!"
And then Harold said something that is still echoing around in my brain.
"How many opportunities do we miss? How many opportunities have I missed?"
And me as well.
How many?
A man who tried to rob Harold's friend found Christ on the floor with the man he tried to rob. I've snubbed people for far less.
Harold gave me a new perspective on ministry tonight. And it's hard. But again I say, God never promised that it would be easy, as I am finding with most things in this life. Yes, some seasons are smoother than others, and some people are easier to love, but that shouldn't halt ministry, and it shouldn't staunch Love.
Today was a good day. It may not have been my birthday, but I'll cherish this one.
Lord, thanks for saving us.
Dinners with Don and Patty are always a bit reviving for me. There aren't many people I feel free to let my hair down with here, and Josh is kind of in the same boat. When you become "the pastor" or "the teacher," the circle of trust shrinks a bit. I don't know if that happens to everyone, but it sure has happened to us, so we relish the moments when we can be real.
Sitting around a card table on our porch, waiting to eat food from Dutch ovens, laughing back and forth as we shared stories, Harold was asked to pray for the food.
"Lord, today was a good day. And you've given us lots of good days. Thanks for saving us..."
Harold finished praying, then he told us a story.
Back in Harold's youth, he knew a man who turned every opportunity into a "God moment."
This un-named friend was out late one evening, and someone tried to rob him. With a gun in his ribs, Harold's friend began to laugh. The robber said, "What's so funny," and the man reached around to his wallet, opened it, and showed the robber just how much money he had: zero.
Harold's friend asked the robber if he'd like to come up to his apartment for some food. "I don't have any money, but I've got food, and you're welcome to it."
Harold said they talked late into the evening, and by 4:00 in the morning, the robber was on his knees yelling, "Lord! Save me!"
And then Harold said something that is still echoing around in my brain.
"How many opportunities do we miss? How many opportunities have I missed?"
And me as well.
How many?
A man who tried to rob Harold's friend found Christ on the floor with the man he tried to rob. I've snubbed people for far less.
Harold gave me a new perspective on ministry tonight. And it's hard. But again I say, God never promised that it would be easy, as I am finding with most things in this life. Yes, some seasons are smoother than others, and some people are easier to love, but that shouldn't halt ministry, and it shouldn't staunch Love.
Today was a good day. It may not have been my birthday, but I'll cherish this one.
Lord, thanks for saving us.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Shine
Once upon a time, Josh Blain and Ashley Lesslie traveled for an entire summer together, going from camp to camp with two other great friends. In those days, Josh and Ashley were young and energetic. They could stay up all night, and function coherently the next day. This could go on for weeks.
But such is no longer true. Josh and Ashley are old, and their bodies demand more than just a few hours of sleep to function at all, let alone coherently.
One thing remains true, though, and that is that Josh and Ashley LOVE camp!
We just spent one wonderful albeit tiring week in Vancouver, Washington, with eight to twelve year-olds. Josh was the camp speaker this year, and did a wonderful job! The kids listened and understood, and many gave their testimonies the last night around a bon-fire, and God spoke greatly to young hearts.
The theme of this year's camp was SHINE, based on Matthew 5:14-16, “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."
Josh used a lantern he named Larry to illustrate the idea of either conforming to the darkness, or letting God transform the darkness into light.
I am exceedingly proud of my husband. The enemy tried his hardest to shut Josh's mouth, but the enemy lost! God put passion and fire into Josh as he shared what was layed on his heart, and it was difficult to miss the calling in Josh's life.
I spent the week with a cabin of six campers, and one co-counselor. I have missed weeks like these! It may be exhausting, but it's also refreshing. And I would argue that kids' camp isn't just for kids.
We head for Chicago this weekend for my graduation, then back in time for one last camp.
I'll close with some of my favorite pictures from the week, but also with yet another request for your prayers. Josh and I covet them, especially as we travel and jump into another camp.
Josh holding Larry the Lantern as an illustration.
Josh preaching during the morning rally.
My cabin, the Sunshine Hearts.
Six wonderful campers, and three wonderful co-counselors.
Josh and I sporting our SHINE t-shirts the last day of camp.
Campers dancing to "I'm in the Lord's Army."
Patty Blain teaching about keeping oil (Christ) in your lamp (heart).
Jodi Hess teaching about Amy Carmichael.
One of my campers was an expert animal imitator!
But such is no longer true. Josh and Ashley are old, and their bodies demand more than just a few hours of sleep to function at all, let alone coherently.
One thing remains true, though, and that is that Josh and Ashley LOVE camp!
We just spent one wonderful albeit tiring week in Vancouver, Washington, with eight to twelve year-olds. Josh was the camp speaker this year, and did a wonderful job! The kids listened and understood, and many gave their testimonies the last night around a bon-fire, and God spoke greatly to young hearts.
The theme of this year's camp was SHINE, based on Matthew 5:14-16, “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."
Josh used a lantern he named Larry to illustrate the idea of either conforming to the darkness, or letting God transform the darkness into light.
I am exceedingly proud of my husband. The enemy tried his hardest to shut Josh's mouth, but the enemy lost! God put passion and fire into Josh as he shared what was layed on his heart, and it was difficult to miss the calling in Josh's life.
I spent the week with a cabin of six campers, and one co-counselor. I have missed weeks like these! It may be exhausting, but it's also refreshing. And I would argue that kids' camp isn't just for kids.
We head for Chicago this weekend for my graduation, then back in time for one last camp.
I'll close with some of my favorite pictures from the week, but also with yet another request for your prayers. Josh and I covet them, especially as we travel and jump into another camp.
Josh holding Larry the Lantern as an illustration.
Josh preaching during the morning rally.
My cabin, the Sunshine Hearts.
Six wonderful campers, and three wonderful co-counselors.
Josh and I sporting our SHINE t-shirts the last day of camp.
Campers dancing to "I'm in the Lord's Army."
Patty Blain teaching about keeping oil (Christ) in your lamp (heart).
Jodi Hess teaching about Amy Carmichael.
One of my campers was an expert animal imitator!
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Wisdom Over Coffee
Summer travels are still rolling. Josh and I returned from our Kansas extravaganzas last Saturday, then hit the road once again for district conference in Vancouver, WA. I can hardly believe how quickly this summer is running out. I didn't get to see everyone I wanted to see while in the Mid-West, but the moments I had with friends I absolutely cherish. We had planned to take a southern route through New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, and Nevada, but when it all boiled down to spending one extra day with my parents, we opted for more card games and laughs and stayed one more night.
Josh was ordained on Thursday, and Don and Patty, as well as grandparents Elmore and Phyllis, were there to share in the joy of that service. Elmore prayed over Josh, which made the service emotional, but also very special. It was after his prayer that Elmore shared with General Superintendent Dr. Jo Anne Lyon that Josh is a sixth generation pastor, which all started with Elmore's great-grandpa who was a circuit rider for the Methodist church.
After the service ended and we received many hugs from our northwest family, six Blains went out for coffee and desserts.
It was over blackberry ice cream and mozzarella sticks that one of my favorite conversations took place: how to best serve in ministry.
Elmore and Phyllis are retired from the ministry, Don and Patty are in a 25-year stretch of ministry, and Josh and I are just starting.
And here is the wisdom I gathered: love your people, cry with them, and walk with them.
No ministry is perfect, and I know Josh and I will botch it up, but what a joy it is to serve, to love people, cry with them, and walk with them. Josh and I may never have all of the right answers, and we may not be the best counselors, but we can love and cry and walk.
After conference, six Blains and a family of Hawks went to the coast for one very wonderful day. We walked the beach, laughed at our dogs, and ate some marvelous clam chowder at Mo's.
Next up for summer travels, Kids' Camp. We'll make the trek back to Vancouver, and this year, Josh is the camp speaker. Please be in prayer for him!
In between miles on the road, we're also trying to finish our bathroom renovation. I keep thinking to myself...this, too, shall pass!
Love you to all-
Josh was ordained on Thursday, and Don and Patty, as well as grandparents Elmore and Phyllis, were there to share in the joy of that service. Elmore prayed over Josh, which made the service emotional, but also very special. It was after his prayer that Elmore shared with General Superintendent Dr. Jo Anne Lyon that Josh is a sixth generation pastor, which all started with Elmore's great-grandpa who was a circuit rider for the Methodist church.
After the service ended and we received many hugs from our northwest family, six Blains went out for coffee and desserts.
It was over blackberry ice cream and mozzarella sticks that one of my favorite conversations took place: how to best serve in ministry.
Elmore and Phyllis are retired from the ministry, Don and Patty are in a 25-year stretch of ministry, and Josh and I are just starting.
And here is the wisdom I gathered: love your people, cry with them, and walk with them.
No ministry is perfect, and I know Josh and I will botch it up, but what a joy it is to serve, to love people, cry with them, and walk with them. Josh and I may never have all of the right answers, and we may not be the best counselors, but we can love and cry and walk.
After conference, six Blains and a family of Hawks went to the coast for one very wonderful day. We walked the beach, laughed at our dogs, and ate some marvelous clam chowder at Mo's.
Next up for summer travels, Kids' Camp. We'll make the trek back to Vancouver, and this year, Josh is the camp speaker. Please be in prayer for him!
In between miles on the road, we're also trying to finish our bathroom renovation. I keep thinking to myself...this, too, shall pass!
Love you to all-
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Almost Perfect
I've worn the hat of teacher this year, and student, and wife, and daughter, and friend. But I have greatly missed the hat of aunt.
The longer I stay with Blake and Tina, the more I fall in love with my nephews, Martin and Eugene.
They are precious, and life is good.
Martin mimicks everything. Mannerisms, simply sayings, body language...he pretty much covers it. He wants to do everything the "big kids" are doing, and sometimes he succeeds, and other times gets severely frustrated at being two feet tall.
Eugene just soaks up loving.
I can write about these wonderful nephews all day long, but let me just leave you with pictures, since they're each worth a thousand words.
The longer I stay with Blake and Tina, the more I fall in love with my nephews, Martin and Eugene.
They are precious, and life is good.
Martin mimicks everything. Mannerisms, simply sayings, body language...he pretty much covers it. He wants to do everything the "big kids" are doing, and sometimes he succeeds, and other times gets severely frustrated at being two feet tall.
Eugene just soaks up loving.
I can write about these wonderful nephews all day long, but let me just leave you with pictures, since they're each worth a thousand words.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Continued Thought
Many of you emailed with great wisdom and love to yesterday's blog.
Thank you.
Time is precious, and it means so much to have your thoughts on this topic.
I'm still processing.
Some of you emailed saying I have a right to be hurt and angry, which makes me think you understand exactly where I'm coming from. You, too, somewhere along the road, have had hurt from the church.
Some of you responded with caution. Thank you. I in no way want my heart to become bitter or hardened because of this, and I also don't want to portray my home church as bitter or hardened. They have laws I don't understand, some I don't agree with, and I'm questioning the purpose of those laws. But I have peace knowing God is in control, and not me. He'll lead and direct so much more gracefully than I, and he'll lead in love when I believe I would probably lead in frustration.
Some of you responded with love. Just when I think I've gotten that practice down, I realize I have so much further to go. Your example reminds me to continue in that mind and heart. Thank you for loving me when I am reeling with hurt and anger and emotion.
Some of you called me out. Thank you for being honest and bold with me. My past hurts should not be directed on this new pastor. He's trying to adjust to a new church and that encounter was probably tough for him, too. Did he handle it perfectly? Nope, but neither did I.
Others of you responded with passion...which makes me think you're my dad. Thank you for being my protector. While you may speak with biting words at times, I think your words are filled with love because of that passion. You don't speak with so many words often, but when you do, I listen. I am more like you than I realize because my passion, too, often clouds my filter.
My heart is resting with the Psalms.
119:145-152 "I call with all my heart; answer me, O LORD, and I will obey your decrees. I call out to you; save me and I will keep your statutes. I rise before dawn and cry for help; I have put my hope in your word. My eyes stay open through the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promises. Hear my voice in accordance with your love; preserve my life, O LORD, according to your laws. Those who devise wicked schemes are near, but they are far from your law. Yet you are near, O LORD, and all your commands are true. Long ago I learned from your statutes that your established them to last forever."
For those who continue to seek God's law, I know these peripheral human laws will be corrected.
I really vacillated over whether or not I should have written yesterday's blog. Part of me thinks, yeah, I probably should have waited until my emotion thinned out a bit, but the other part of me is so thankful to each of you for sharing your wisdom, your love, and your passion.
Thanks for walking with me. Now that's the body of Christ.
Thank you.
Time is precious, and it means so much to have your thoughts on this topic.
I'm still processing.
Some of you emailed saying I have a right to be hurt and angry, which makes me think you understand exactly where I'm coming from. You, too, somewhere along the road, have had hurt from the church.
Some of you responded with caution. Thank you. I in no way want my heart to become bitter or hardened because of this, and I also don't want to portray my home church as bitter or hardened. They have laws I don't understand, some I don't agree with, and I'm questioning the purpose of those laws. But I have peace knowing God is in control, and not me. He'll lead and direct so much more gracefully than I, and he'll lead in love when I believe I would probably lead in frustration.
Some of you responded with love. Just when I think I've gotten that practice down, I realize I have so much further to go. Your example reminds me to continue in that mind and heart. Thank you for loving me when I am reeling with hurt and anger and emotion.
Some of you called me out. Thank you for being honest and bold with me. My past hurts should not be directed on this new pastor. He's trying to adjust to a new church and that encounter was probably tough for him, too. Did he handle it perfectly? Nope, but neither did I.
Others of you responded with passion...which makes me think you're my dad. Thank you for being my protector. While you may speak with biting words at times, I think your words are filled with love because of that passion. You don't speak with so many words often, but when you do, I listen. I am more like you than I realize because my passion, too, often clouds my filter.
My heart is resting with the Psalms.
119:145-152 "I call with all my heart; answer me, O LORD, and I will obey your decrees. I call out to you; save me and I will keep your statutes. I rise before dawn and cry for help; I have put my hope in your word. My eyes stay open through the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promises. Hear my voice in accordance with your love; preserve my life, O LORD, according to your laws. Those who devise wicked schemes are near, but they are far from your law. Yet you are near, O LORD, and all your commands are true. Long ago I learned from your statutes that your established them to last forever."
For those who continue to seek God's law, I know these peripheral human laws will be corrected.
I really vacillated over whether or not I should have written yesterday's blog. Part of me thinks, yeah, I probably should have waited until my emotion thinned out a bit, but the other part of me is so thankful to each of you for sharing your wisdom, your love, and your passion.
Thanks for walking with me. Now that's the body of Christ.
Monday, June 6, 2011
A Rude Awakening
I try so hard to forgive the wounds from my childhood in a church full of loving people who I think meant well. But sometimes, those wounds resurface, and I'm angry all over again.
As a 15-year-old who just spent her first summer in Jamaica, I came home knowing God had called me into missions, I just didn't know what that meant. Five men came to me after I spoke to my church, telling me I had to be married to do that, and my husband would have to be the missionary.
I was so crushed. I thought God wanted to use me, not just make me a wife.
And so began the stubborn pride in me to be single and prove to everyone I knew that God could use women, single, in the ministry.
God broke down a lot of that pride in me. He placed a calling in my life to be a teacher, then he introduced me to Josh Blain, the man who stole my heart and who I longed to serve alongside. God has used Josh as a beautiful example of what unity and partnership should look like. Josh has given me a glimpse of the true joy of marriage because he walks beside me, he doesn't make me follow. He and I are in ministry together.
I thought I was okay with those wounds. I've spent many years working through them, begging God to take them away. But yesterday, they resurfaced.
Without going into a full-out soap-box, let me just say I hate denominations. People get so wrapped up in a title that they forget the body, and Christ's church is divided.
I was asked to sing at my home church while on my travels, something I enjoy doing and look forward to. The church just got a new pastor, I met him Saturday, and really had a great impression of him.
Sunday morning came, I lugged my guitar to church, and was asked to "step into the office," a sign that should have told me something bad was coming.
Remember, I had a great first-meeting with the new pastor, so when he said, "Our by-laws state that only Baptists can sing at church," I thought he was completely joking.
I burst out laughing, then heard the following statement come out of this new pastor's mouth.
"We can't let just anyone sing. If a Mormon came in and wanted to sing a song, we wouldn't let them."
Wow. And 'denomination' just became a dirty word.
Forget the fact that I am a Christ follower. I didn't realize Wesleyans were grouped with Mormons. Forget the fact that I got saved in that church, and the fact that I grew up there. Forget the fact that I traveled on three missions trips while at that church, and followed God's leading into the ministry.
I was so hurt.
Because I am Wesleyan, I'm not good enough. And all of my childhood insecurities came flooding back.
I looked at my dad's face, and it donned on me. This guy was being serious.
The pastor said, "Are you mad at me?"
I didn't know what to say. A weak "No" slipped out.
"Okay. Good."
He left, and I turned to my dad, and instantly burst into tears.
Rejected by my home church. That one stung.
I tried to sit through the worship, but I could not regain my composure. I hate that one man's words cut me so deeply. I finally wrote my dad a note telling him I was going to walk home, stood up, and walked out of the doors, telling myself I would never go to church there again if it meant more hurt.
My mom walked home with me, and talking through some of that emotion was good. But if I'm being totally honest, I'm still reeling. I am so hurt and angry and disappointed and disgusted.
Denominations divide the body of Christ. People who think their name gets them to heaven or qualifies them for more holiness than others make me so frustrated. I understand that it wasn't the pastor's opinion- he's new and is trying to follow the church constitution, but I'm still hurt by him.
Shouldn't we all be working on the same goal? Shouldn't we all have the same focus? Shouldn't we walk together and love one another with fierceness?
I fail to understand.
In 1 Corinthians 1, Paul is getting onto the church for this very issue. People were following Paul, and Peter, and several other missionaries, and Paul called them on it, saying, "Shouldn't we be followers of Christ?"
Verses 10-13 state it much more eloquently than I am, but that's the gist. Jesus never said, "Be Baptist," or "Be Wesleyan," or "Be Church of Christ." He called both Jew and Gentile to follow him. But people's rules make that simple practice difficult.
And the body takes a beating.
Any wisdom out there? I would certainly welcome it.
As a 15-year-old who just spent her first summer in Jamaica, I came home knowing God had called me into missions, I just didn't know what that meant. Five men came to me after I spoke to my church, telling me I had to be married to do that, and my husband would have to be the missionary.
I was so crushed. I thought God wanted to use me, not just make me a wife.
And so began the stubborn pride in me to be single and prove to everyone I knew that God could use women, single, in the ministry.
God broke down a lot of that pride in me. He placed a calling in my life to be a teacher, then he introduced me to Josh Blain, the man who stole my heart and who I longed to serve alongside. God has used Josh as a beautiful example of what unity and partnership should look like. Josh has given me a glimpse of the true joy of marriage because he walks beside me, he doesn't make me follow. He and I are in ministry together.
I thought I was okay with those wounds. I've spent many years working through them, begging God to take them away. But yesterday, they resurfaced.
Without going into a full-out soap-box, let me just say I hate denominations. People get so wrapped up in a title that they forget the body, and Christ's church is divided.
I was asked to sing at my home church while on my travels, something I enjoy doing and look forward to. The church just got a new pastor, I met him Saturday, and really had a great impression of him.
Sunday morning came, I lugged my guitar to church, and was asked to "step into the office," a sign that should have told me something bad was coming.
Remember, I had a great first-meeting with the new pastor, so when he said, "Our by-laws state that only Baptists can sing at church," I thought he was completely joking.
I burst out laughing, then heard the following statement come out of this new pastor's mouth.
"We can't let just anyone sing. If a Mormon came in and wanted to sing a song, we wouldn't let them."
Wow. And 'denomination' just became a dirty word.
Forget the fact that I am a Christ follower. I didn't realize Wesleyans were grouped with Mormons. Forget the fact that I got saved in that church, and the fact that I grew up there. Forget the fact that I traveled on three missions trips while at that church, and followed God's leading into the ministry.
I was so hurt.
Because I am Wesleyan, I'm not good enough. And all of my childhood insecurities came flooding back.
I looked at my dad's face, and it donned on me. This guy was being serious.
The pastor said, "Are you mad at me?"
I didn't know what to say. A weak "No" slipped out.
"Okay. Good."
He left, and I turned to my dad, and instantly burst into tears.
Rejected by my home church. That one stung.
I tried to sit through the worship, but I could not regain my composure. I hate that one man's words cut me so deeply. I finally wrote my dad a note telling him I was going to walk home, stood up, and walked out of the doors, telling myself I would never go to church there again if it meant more hurt.
My mom walked home with me, and talking through some of that emotion was good. But if I'm being totally honest, I'm still reeling. I am so hurt and angry and disappointed and disgusted.
Denominations divide the body of Christ. People who think their name gets them to heaven or qualifies them for more holiness than others make me so frustrated. I understand that it wasn't the pastor's opinion- he's new and is trying to follow the church constitution, but I'm still hurt by him.
Shouldn't we all be working on the same goal? Shouldn't we all have the same focus? Shouldn't we walk together and love one another with fierceness?
I fail to understand.
In 1 Corinthians 1, Paul is getting onto the church for this very issue. People were following Paul, and Peter, and several other missionaries, and Paul called them on it, saying, "Shouldn't we be followers of Christ?"
Verses 10-13 state it much more eloquently than I am, but that's the gist. Jesus never said, "Be Baptist," or "Be Wesleyan," or "Be Church of Christ." He called both Jew and Gentile to follow him. But people's rules make that simple practice difficult.
And the body takes a beating.
Any wisdom out there? I would certainly welcome it.
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