On Monday, since my car battery died, I drove my aunt's car to the dentist. [I wrote more about my Monday in Monday’s Note.] As such, I didn't have my normal CD's or books to listen to so I turned on the Christian radio station. A woman was talking when the station came on but instead of turning it to find music I decided to listen. I was intrigued by what she was saying and wanted to hear more. I can't remember the woman's name, but I know she's an author and speaker who does work with Focus on the Family.
Monday’s speaker was talking about how she overcame severe panic attacks. The things she said were very much like what Jenny, my former counselor, would have said to me, so I absorbed them like a sponge. Here are the notes that I jotted down:
■Complaining, whining, and exaggerating are three ways to hold on to anger and to remain self-absorbed.
■We must not rescue people before they take steps to rescue themselves.
■Bad thoughts? Refuse them and replace them and repeat again and again.
■Read. Continue to grow. If your heart isn't teachable then you will stay stuck.
■We must learn to place a boundary on our emotions, a boundary on our words, and to reduce our word count (spoken and written).
I suppose that the concepts about which she spoke weren’t concepts that I hadn’t heard or thought about before, but the wording of her talk—especially her last point—struck me as profound. I didn’t realize that it had been happening, and I certainly didn’t have words such as “a boundary on our emotions and words” and “reduce our word count” to name it, but I realize now this is one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in the past couple of years—that and the true importance of being present in and seeing life—in all of its joy and possibilities—in the moment.
You’ve probably heard the phrase “opposites attract.” While spending time with our opposites is often challenging because of the fundamental differences in seeing, feeling, and experiencing life, I think that spending time with those different than us is crucial to being well-rounded person. It’s as if opposites pull toward one another to complement the deficits in each persons’ life.
When I am my ridiculous self, my opposites listen and respond in very calm, non-emotional ways. Their responses teach me that sometimes speaking and being heard really is all that matters—that words of wisdom, encouragement, and advice don’t always have to come, even though they are needed sometimes. My opposites also teach me that I don’t have to share everything that’s on my mind because sometimes it’s really not that important—and I don’t say that in a self-deprecating way as in I’m not important but in a way of simple reality as in some things don’t have to be shared—especially not immediately—especially if I’m working out of hurt and frustration. Through my opposites, I learn to place boundaries on my emotions and words…and this learning, to me, is invaluable—just as the speaker said on Monday, the speaker herself an opposite to me.
What have you learned from persons very different than you? What do you see as the value of surrounding yourself with diversity? It’s easy to stick to that which we know, but we’d be missing a whole lot of life if we did.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
Deanna's Day Off
At some point during the night, Gunther the GPS decided that he wanted to see the hazard lights blinking on GiGi The White Ant. So he leapt off of the windshield, cut on the lights, and laid in the front seat watching them until they got tired and stopped.
As a result of Gunther’s antics Gigi didn’t have enough energy to start this morning, so she sat in the garage and slept while I drove my aunt’s car to the dentist. Eventually, Gigi underwent surgery and received a new battery. After the battery transplant she was feeling so good that she took my aunt and me to the community garden to pick vegetables. She came back with a tired aunt and an itching Deanna and one bag of beans and tiny little vegetables and one bag of not-so-good corn. Later this evening, she’ll head down to the SC and stay for the rest of the week.
Here’s the neat thing:
My dad’s friend Howard came to town this morning to visit his daughter and do some work at her house. When he got here, though, she wasn’t home. Since he was in town, Howard stopped by my dad’s office to visit. Since my dad was at home with me, my dad’s assistant called the house so that Howard could speak to my dad. During that conversation, my dad asked Howard to come help us with the car, so Howard came to the house, fully tooled, and performed the necessary surgery on GiGi. Afterwards, my dad and Howard sat and talked and both of them declared the entire event a gift of grace and serendipity. I agree.
Meanwhile, my aunt was slaughtering my mom and me at Boggle, my grandmother was relaxing on the couch, and my teeth were hurting from the firm flossing they received this morning.
Such has been my day off with teeth, batteries, Boggle, tiny little vegetables, and grace.
As a result of Gunther’s antics Gigi didn’t have enough energy to start this morning, so she sat in the garage and slept while I drove my aunt’s car to the dentist. Eventually, Gigi underwent surgery and received a new battery. After the battery transplant she was feeling so good that she took my aunt and me to the community garden to pick vegetables. She came back with a tired aunt and an itching Deanna and one bag of beans and tiny little vegetables and one bag of not-so-good corn. Later this evening, she’ll head down to the SC and stay for the rest of the week.
Here’s the neat thing:
My dad’s friend Howard came to town this morning to visit his daughter and do some work at her house. When he got here, though, she wasn’t home. Since he was in town, Howard stopped by my dad’s office to visit. Since my dad was at home with me, my dad’s assistant called the house so that Howard could speak to my dad. During that conversation, my dad asked Howard to come help us with the car, so Howard came to the house, fully tooled, and performed the necessary surgery on GiGi. Afterwards, my dad and Howard sat and talked and both of them declared the entire event a gift of grace and serendipity. I agree.
Meanwhile, my aunt was slaughtering my mom and me at Boggle, my grandmother was relaxing on the couch, and my teeth were hurting from the firm flossing they received this morning.
Such has been my day off with teeth, batteries, Boggle, tiny little vegetables, and grace.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Happy And Sad
Today marked the completion of an historical event in the life of SC WMU: The SC WMU Field Staff returned from its first ever all-staff-in-one-vehicle road trip to the National WMU Annual Meeting and SBC Convention! To commemorate the occasion, we will store an Arby’s napkin in the archives.
On our way to New Orleans, we played “Name that Tune” and our own version of the “ABC Game.” On our return from New Orleans, we played “Who Has Visited What States/Continents and Why” and “Answer the Question.” We answered questions such as: “What was your favorite part of the meetings?” “What is something you learned this week?” “What is one thing about yourself that you would change?” “What is one thing about yourself that you like?” “What makes you happiest in this world?” “What makes you sad?” “What is one talent that you have?” and “What is your biggest pet peeve.” Our road trip games were very fun and thought provoking, but we knew it was time to end them when the answering of questions brought either a) directional distraction for the driver or b) an emergency bathroom situation from laughing so hard.
The most awkward moment of the trip came when this writer answered, “What makes you sad?” After naming quite a long list of things, my coworkers said, “My goodness, Deanna. Are you sad all the time?” I said, “I’m sad a lot, yes. I don’t mean to be. It just happens. When I feel sad for one thing, it amplifies to feeling sad for everyone in the world who is or has ever felt that way. So I have to work to feel what I’m feeling and not let anxiety run away with me. Sleep makes me happy. A lot of things make me sad. Those two things do go hand in hand with depression. This is why I’m in counseling and taking medication. They go hand in hand, too...just like sleep and sadness...and just like happiness and sadness, too.”
I’m glad that I can say those things now and not be afraid that everyone will look down on me. Some will. But others won’t. I’m glad to see that reality. I’m glad that my brain chemicals stay more balanced by modern medicine and that my thoughts, feelings, and reactions stay balanced and are held in the light of counseling and spiritual direction. I’m glad, too, that I have knowledge and understanding of the concept of being a non-anxious presence and that becoming a self-differentiated, non-anxious presence gives me a goal toward which I always can strive.
A few years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to answer the question, “Deanna, are you sad all the time?” without shutting down and feeling ashamed. I know that I carry a lot of sadness with me, but I know, too, that I carry a lot of joy and happiness. They really do go together. And there really is a time and season for everything under the sun.
A few years ago, I also wouldn’t have been taking a very long road trip in a stuffed animal pimped out mini-van with coworkers that I’ve come to know, love, and appreciate.
I’m thankful for where a few years have brought me. And who knows. Maybe in a few more years, I’ll get to go to Zambinia for a zootic adventure while singing the music of Bill Gates and presenting my resume in traffic :-).
On our way to New Orleans, we played “Name that Tune” and our own version of the “ABC Game.” On our return from New Orleans, we played “Who Has Visited What States/Continents and Why” and “Answer the Question.” We answered questions such as: “What was your favorite part of the meetings?” “What is something you learned this week?” “What is one thing about yourself that you would change?” “What is one thing about yourself that you like?” “What makes you happiest in this world?” “What makes you sad?” “What is one talent that you have?” and “What is your biggest pet peeve.” Our road trip games were very fun and thought provoking, but we knew it was time to end them when the answering of questions brought either a) directional distraction for the driver or b) an emergency bathroom situation from laughing so hard.
The most awkward moment of the trip came when this writer answered, “What makes you sad?” After naming quite a long list of things, my coworkers said, “My goodness, Deanna. Are you sad all the time?” I said, “I’m sad a lot, yes. I don’t mean to be. It just happens. When I feel sad for one thing, it amplifies to feeling sad for everyone in the world who is or has ever felt that way. So I have to work to feel what I’m feeling and not let anxiety run away with me. Sleep makes me happy. A lot of things make me sad. Those two things do go hand in hand with depression. This is why I’m in counseling and taking medication. They go hand in hand, too...just like sleep and sadness...and just like happiness and sadness, too.”
I’m glad that I can say those things now and not be afraid that everyone will look down on me. Some will. But others won’t. I’m glad to see that reality. I’m glad that my brain chemicals stay more balanced by modern medicine and that my thoughts, feelings, and reactions stay balanced and are held in the light of counseling and spiritual direction. I’m glad, too, that I have knowledge and understanding of the concept of being a non-anxious presence and that becoming a self-differentiated, non-anxious presence gives me a goal toward which I always can strive.
A few years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to answer the question, “Deanna, are you sad all the time?” without shutting down and feeling ashamed. I know that I carry a lot of sadness with me, but I know, too, that I carry a lot of joy and happiness. They really do go together. And there really is a time and season for everything under the sun.
A few years ago, I also wouldn’t have been taking a very long road trip in a stuffed animal pimped out mini-van with coworkers that I’ve come to know, love, and appreciate.
I’m thankful for where a few years have brought me. And who knows. Maybe in a few more years, I’ll get to go to Zambinia for a zootic adventure while singing the music of Bill Gates and presenting my resume in traffic :-).
Monday, June 18, 2012
Not Black Eyed Pea Chili and Sauerkraut
I ate a hot dog with black-eyed pea chili and sauerkraut for lunch today. But that wasn’t the moment that struck me as odd and compelled me to write this note.
Instead, the oddest moment of my day occurred as I was waiting to use the restroom this morning. As I stood in line to wait for an empty stall, after hearing a conversation about how the conference center should have closed one set of men’s restrooms because the number of women at the WMU meeting far outnumbered the men, I heard a pleasant voice say, “And we all must stand in line.” Then it was my turn to go so I went.
Afterwards, on my way to the sink area, I saw the person whose voice I’d thought I’d recognized earlier. I saw Wanda Lee, National WMU Executive Director-Treasurer, waiting in line, too. Knowing who she is and that she was likely very busy, I felt as if she should pull rank and skip to the front or that someone should let her get in front of them. But she didn’t. And no one offered a free pass.
As Wanda stood in line with everyone else, I thought to myself, “We’re all just human. And in the grand scheme of life, no one is more important than anyone else. We’re each loved by God. We each must use the bathroom. And we each must wait our turn. Thanks for that moment of humility, Wanda. You just spoke volumes to me without even trying.”
Ever since I introduced Wanda to Stanley and golf-cart-drove her to WMU NC’s 125th birthday party at Ridgecrest, wearing a trash bag over my clothes and head to serve as rain protection in the pouring rain, I think Wanda has thought me a bit odd and not quite known what to do with me. Knowing that this is the case, I haven’t told her about the profound moment she caused in the bathroom today, standing in line, being normal, living as one of the least of these...
Maybe one day I will…
But until then…
I will simply be grateful that God is alive and working around us. Sometimes we just have to open our ears and listen…especially in the waiting.
Instead, the oddest moment of my day occurred as I was waiting to use the restroom this morning. As I stood in line to wait for an empty stall, after hearing a conversation about how the conference center should have closed one set of men’s restrooms because the number of women at the WMU meeting far outnumbered the men, I heard a pleasant voice say, “And we all must stand in line.” Then it was my turn to go so I went.
Afterwards, on my way to the sink area, I saw the person whose voice I’d thought I’d recognized earlier. I saw Wanda Lee, National WMU Executive Director-Treasurer, waiting in line, too. Knowing who she is and that she was likely very busy, I felt as if she should pull rank and skip to the front or that someone should let her get in front of them. But she didn’t. And no one offered a free pass.
As Wanda stood in line with everyone else, I thought to myself, “We’re all just human. And in the grand scheme of life, no one is more important than anyone else. We’re each loved by God. We each must use the bathroom. And we each must wait our turn. Thanks for that moment of humility, Wanda. You just spoke volumes to me without even trying.”
Ever since I introduced Wanda to Stanley and golf-cart-drove her to WMU NC’s 125th birthday party at Ridgecrest, wearing a trash bag over my clothes and head to serve as rain protection in the pouring rain, I think Wanda has thought me a bit odd and not quite known what to do with me. Knowing that this is the case, I haven’t told her about the profound moment she caused in the bathroom today, standing in line, being normal, living as one of the least of these...
Maybe one day I will…
But until then…
I will simply be grateful that God is alive and working around us. Sometimes we just have to open our ears and listen…especially in the waiting.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Those Dirty Words
Before “Project Help: Human Exploitation,” I wasn’t one to use the words sex, sexting, and pornography. Like the good Southern Baptist preacher’s kid that I am, I found those words taboo. They went with other dirty words like abuse, divorce, homosexuality, abortion, masturbation, and death—words that make most church-goers, and probably many of you, cringe. So I didn’t speak of them very often even though I knew full well what they were. But now I do speak of them. I say those dirty words in the same sentences as God, Jesus, love, creation, redemption, salvation, missions, and life...and I do not flinch.
Last night, for the first time, I closed “Project Help: Human Exploitation” overview with the clear declaration that we must talk about issues of sexuality and sexual ethic in our churches—that we must let our children and teens know that if they have questions about sex or if they have sex—especially if they are forced to have sex—then they can ask or tell us and not be disowned—that we must create a space for men and women who struggle with pornography to admit the struggle and begin to deal with it—that the longer we make issues of sexuality taboo, then the more powerful the “secrecy” of people’s lifestyles is going to become and the more we will exploit humanity through pornography, trafficking, prostitution, sexting, sexual abuse, media, and more. In many ways, sex and issues of sexuality are at the root of human exploitation, and until the church is able to talk openly about these issues rather than cringe at the dirtiness of the words, human exploitation will continue—albeit under the surface of many Christians fighting against it by attacking the symptoms rather than the disease.
After my presentation last night, an older woman came up to me to tell me that she had enjoyed the presentation. While I think it’s ironic to hear people say that have enjoyed a somewhat depressing and heavy presentation, I’m always grateful for the affirmation. This woman continued, though, with tears in her eyes, holding my hands in hers, “People from my generation grew up not talking about sex. It’s so hard. But I know now that we’ve got to talk about it with our children and grandchildren. Thank you.” I don’t remember what I said. I was so struck by her words and the sincere tears in her eyes that they are all I remember.
Oh people of God, we must stop running from dirty words and make them holy by bringing them into light! May each of us be so moved by a conviction of God’s spirit that we have the courage cry humble tears, face our fears, stretch beyond discomfort, and speak healthy truth. Amen.
Last night, for the first time, I closed “Project Help: Human Exploitation” overview with the clear declaration that we must talk about issues of sexuality and sexual ethic in our churches—that we must let our children and teens know that if they have questions about sex or if they have sex—especially if they are forced to have sex—then they can ask or tell us and not be disowned—that we must create a space for men and women who struggle with pornography to admit the struggle and begin to deal with it—that the longer we make issues of sexuality taboo, then the more powerful the “secrecy” of people’s lifestyles is going to become and the more we will exploit humanity through pornography, trafficking, prostitution, sexting, sexual abuse, media, and more. In many ways, sex and issues of sexuality are at the root of human exploitation, and until the church is able to talk openly about these issues rather than cringe at the dirtiness of the words, human exploitation will continue—albeit under the surface of many Christians fighting against it by attacking the symptoms rather than the disease.
After my presentation last night, an older woman came up to me to tell me that she had enjoyed the presentation. While I think it’s ironic to hear people say that have enjoyed a somewhat depressing and heavy presentation, I’m always grateful for the affirmation. This woman continued, though, with tears in her eyes, holding my hands in hers, “People from my generation grew up not talking about sex. It’s so hard. But I know now that we’ve got to talk about it with our children and grandchildren. Thank you.” I don’t remember what I said. I was so struck by her words and the sincere tears in her eyes that they are all I remember.
Oh people of God, we must stop running from dirty words and make them holy by bringing them into light! May each of us be so moved by a conviction of God’s spirit that we have the courage cry humble tears, face our fears, stretch beyond discomfort, and speak healthy truth. Amen.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Horse Breeding and Well Vodka
Did you know that there are people who make a living out of collecting semen samples from horses? And did you know that well vodka—or any well liquor for that matter—is the cheap liquor served at bars—often kept in a well near the bar and used in mixed drinks—rather than the more expensive kinds of liquor kept in bottles on shelves behind the bar—and that whatever the well liquor is can change depending on the bar tender’s choice? These are just two of the fascinating pieces of information that I garnered from my weekend in Charleston with my bowling team, “The Force.” [FYI. None of us knew what "well vodka" was when we saw it advertised on a sign that we drove by. So I suppose I should thank yahoo answers for enlightening us!]
If you followed the Stanley Chronicles and my other posts on Facebook over the weekend, then you followed a somewhat complete map of my weekend journey. What you could not follow, however, were the many interesting conversations, moments of laughter, odd high fives of triumph, noises of frustration...or the silent pep talks that I gave myself throughout the weekend.
By now, I think we all know that The Thinker tends to work overtime. This reality, coupled with my N-ness on the Myers Briggs Personality Type Indicator, means that even when I don’t try, I think and remember thoughts and moments that span the entirety of my life. Let me give you an example of my brain activity over the weekend in Charleston:
• At the first bowling alley, seeing a woman whose face I recognized: “We’ve bowled her before. She was helping at one our tournaments. We bowled beside her and she was really good and she intimidated me but she was really nice. I should go speak to her.” So I went and spoke to her and she hugged me and I hugged her and then she only bowled a 208. She was below her average for the day.
• Upon going to downtown Charleston: “Where’s the hotel that the youth group and I stayed in when we came on a mission trip to Charleston? Are they tearing it down? I wonder where the teams stay now. Do teams still come during the summer? We went to the beach and handed out water and I had to drive the church van and driving the church van in Charleston isn’t very fun because it’s so big and there’s a lot of traffic and narrow roads and finding parking was tricky. And we went on a horse and buggy ride and horse poop stinks and I’m afraid of horses.”
• While eating lunch at a little Italian place: “This looks like the Italian place that we ate at in NYC. That was the best Italian food I’ve ever had. That was a fun trip. I miss Angela.”
• While walking around downtown Charleston: “One of my best friends from childhood lives in Charleston. I wish I had her number. We used to sit at the piano and play ‘Up From The Grave He Arose.’ I really need to get her number into my phone.”
• While watching an “artist” perform as a human mannequin: “Rachel Elizabeth Dare was a gold human mannequin in one of the Percy Jackson books. I wonder if there are ghosts and spirits all around us but that we can’t see because of the mist.”
• While standing at The Battery looking at the water: “I wish I could go down and pick up the trash that I see. Human exploitation. Sigh. I went on a Harbor Tour with the women from FBC Erwin. We had a lot of good times down here—staying at the Isle of Palms—going on retreats together. I miss those retreats. And those women. But if I went on a Harbor Ride now I’d have to take motion sickness medicine. The first time I got motion sick was in the car going to Connecticut for Liz’s wedding and then we went to NYC where we had that good Italian food and saw Wicked. That’s such a good show. I’d like to see it again.”
• While walking back to the car: “I meant to visit Charleston with some of my friends. I hope I still get to do it. But I don’t know that I will since we’re not as close anymore. I know that growing apart is normal, but I still hate it. And missing people. Oh God, I miss so many people. But...you’re having fun now, Deanna. You’re with friends now. Laughing and having a good time and making new memories. Be present. Right here. Right now. Breathe...”
• While bowling on Sunday: “Relax. Just because you placed in the overall standings in the city tournament doesn’t mean that you’re going to do that here. Stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Just relax. Have fun. Do your best. It’s okay. You’re not a failure.”
And...that was just a sampling...and many of those thoughts included other memories and details and feelings that are too complicated to write down. What’s even more complicated is the reality that I often have all of these thoughts at once. Sometimes I catch myself thinking about thinking about thinking about what I’m thinking.
As I’ve watched the rain fall outside today and reflected on my weekend—which was really a lovely weekend—I’ve been reminded of a song that I wrote many years ago. I’ll close today with some of the lyrics to that song (which I’m pretty sure I’ve posted before) and the prayer that each of us—including me with my N-driven Thinker—will slow down and see what’s right in front of us rather than always looking behind or ahead or before...
Tomorrow is today in this crazy world I live
Yesterday rings on right now
One eye focused on the future,
One eye focused on the past
I’m blinded to this present life I live
Lord slow me down
And help me see clearly
What I need to see the morning I wake up
Lord slow me down
And help me hear the rain fall
Instead of looking for the sun to come up
Lord slow me down
If you followed the Stanley Chronicles and my other posts on Facebook over the weekend, then you followed a somewhat complete map of my weekend journey. What you could not follow, however, were the many interesting conversations, moments of laughter, odd high fives of triumph, noises of frustration...or the silent pep talks that I gave myself throughout the weekend.
By now, I think we all know that The Thinker tends to work overtime. This reality, coupled with my N-ness on the Myers Briggs Personality Type Indicator, means that even when I don’t try, I think and remember thoughts and moments that span the entirety of my life. Let me give you an example of my brain activity over the weekend in Charleston:
• At the first bowling alley, seeing a woman whose face I recognized: “We’ve bowled her before. She was helping at one our tournaments. We bowled beside her and she was really good and she intimidated me but she was really nice. I should go speak to her.” So I went and spoke to her and she hugged me and I hugged her and then she only bowled a 208. She was below her average for the day.
• Upon going to downtown Charleston: “Where’s the hotel that the youth group and I stayed in when we came on a mission trip to Charleston? Are they tearing it down? I wonder where the teams stay now. Do teams still come during the summer? We went to the beach and handed out water and I had to drive the church van and driving the church van in Charleston isn’t very fun because it’s so big and there’s a lot of traffic and narrow roads and finding parking was tricky. And we went on a horse and buggy ride and horse poop stinks and I’m afraid of horses.”
• While eating lunch at a little Italian place: “This looks like the Italian place that we ate at in NYC. That was the best Italian food I’ve ever had. That was a fun trip. I miss Angela.”
• While walking around downtown Charleston: “One of my best friends from childhood lives in Charleston. I wish I had her number. We used to sit at the piano and play ‘Up From The Grave He Arose.’ I really need to get her number into my phone.”
• While watching an “artist” perform as a human mannequin: “Rachel Elizabeth Dare was a gold human mannequin in one of the Percy Jackson books. I wonder if there are ghosts and spirits all around us but that we can’t see because of the mist.”
• While standing at The Battery looking at the water: “I wish I could go down and pick up the trash that I see. Human exploitation. Sigh. I went on a Harbor Tour with the women from FBC Erwin. We had a lot of good times down here—staying at the Isle of Palms—going on retreats together. I miss those retreats. And those women. But if I went on a Harbor Ride now I’d have to take motion sickness medicine. The first time I got motion sick was in the car going to Connecticut for Liz’s wedding and then we went to NYC where we had that good Italian food and saw Wicked. That’s such a good show. I’d like to see it again.”
• While walking back to the car: “I meant to visit Charleston with some of my friends. I hope I still get to do it. But I don’t know that I will since we’re not as close anymore. I know that growing apart is normal, but I still hate it. And missing people. Oh God, I miss so many people. But...you’re having fun now, Deanna. You’re with friends now. Laughing and having a good time and making new memories. Be present. Right here. Right now. Breathe...”
• While bowling on Sunday: “Relax. Just because you placed in the overall standings in the city tournament doesn’t mean that you’re going to do that here. Stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Just relax. Have fun. Do your best. It’s okay. You’re not a failure.”
And...that was just a sampling...and many of those thoughts included other memories and details and feelings that are too complicated to write down. What’s even more complicated is the reality that I often have all of these thoughts at once. Sometimes I catch myself thinking about thinking about thinking about what I’m thinking.
As I’ve watched the rain fall outside today and reflected on my weekend—which was really a lovely weekend—I’ve been reminded of a song that I wrote many years ago. I’ll close today with some of the lyrics to that song (which I’m pretty sure I’ve posted before) and the prayer that each of us—including me with my N-driven Thinker—will slow down and see what’s right in front of us rather than always looking behind or ahead or before...
Tomorrow is today in this crazy world I live
Yesterday rings on right now
One eye focused on the future,
One eye focused on the past
I’m blinded to this present life I live
Lord slow me down
And help me see clearly
What I need to see the morning I wake up
Lord slow me down
And help me hear the rain fall
Instead of looking for the sun to come up
Lord slow me down
Thursday, June 7, 2012
The Cacophonous Song Symphony
I did something odd during worship on Sunday morning. I asked the summer staff at Mundo Vista to each sing her song(s) of choice during the opening song set—all at the same time. Here’s how it happened:
On Saturday night, after teaching the staff about worship and love languages and singing a song at campfire, I met with Ruby Ann Jones Fulbright to plan the worship service for Sunday morning. Like two old women, we sat in the gliding rocking chairs in the camp infirmary and talked. We laughed and cried and attempted to stay on topic, but ultimately we didn’t do a very good job planning worship because wandering life-thoughts kept our attention astray.
As I mentioned in Monday’s note (“Oh Worship”), when I plan worship I tend to let “lots and lots of ideas float around [in my head] until something seems right.” Since Ruby and I didn’t land on a theme that seemed right, I went to bed in the floating stage. I knew what Ruby was going to speak about so I let the ideas float and hoped that I would wake up with a sense of clarity in the morning.
I didn’t. I woke up with a headache.
As I zombied my way through breakfast with furrowed brow, I confessed to Ruby that I wasn’t having a clear since of direction about the morning’s service. I confessed this fact again to Hanna, the summer’s worship leader, and explained how I was uncertain about what songs to lead because I didn’t know who would be familiar with what—and I didn’t think that Sunday morning was the time to be teaching new songs. I don’t know a lot of popular “contemporary” praise/worship songs and I’m not 100% sure what hymn texts people know by memory these days so I was sort of stuck. I had no peace about the opening song(s), special music, offertory music, or theme interpretation...
So I sat down on the stage in the outdoor chapel, wrote out the order of service, and prayed that God would let me know what to do about everything else. That’s when chiggers (red bugs) attacked me. But I didn’t know it until Monday.
When the worship service began, I still had no idea what music we would be doing. As Ruby led the prayer calendar and shared her prayer calendar experience from the mission field, I looked at my closed guitar case and thought, “I still don’t know what songs to lead. We’re bringing it to the wire, God. What songs should I lead?”
Then something happened. I have no idea what words sparked the idea but I know it was something that Ruby said. “Remember the symphony of prayer you led at ALT—where everyone prayed at the same time?” I thought to myself. “Why not ask everyone sing at the same time? That way, people who know praise songs can sing praise songs. People who know hymns can sing hymns. People who are filled with joy and excitement can sing songs of praise. People who are struggling and/or feeling overwhelmed can sings of prayer and mercy. The girls can scatter around the outdoor chapel if they’re worried about someone hearing them sing, but with everyone singing at the same time that shouldn’t be a problem. It’ll give everyone a chance for her own voice to be heard and it will solve the dilemma of choosing music that everyone knows.”
Holy ghost goose bumps covered my body and God’s peaceful spirit came upon me as a breeze rustled through the trees and a hawk soared overhead. Finally, things seemed “right.”
The staff looked at me like I was crazy when I told them what we’d be doing. After a moment of odd silence, one girl began singing “Ode To Joy” very loudly. No one else sang. People weren’t sure if they should sing along or if they should start their own song. I said, “You don’t have to all sing together. Sing whatever you want. Get up. Move around. Lift your voice to God.” At that moment, with that permission, with “Ode To Joy” still being sung in the background, other people began singing their own songs of prayer and praise. All at once, in that sacred space, a cacophonous symphony of voices was being raised to God. It sounded awful and beautiful and chaotic and peaceful and sad and joyful all at once.
We ended our symphony with the unison thought that “Our God Is An Awesome God,” and at the end of the service we revisited one of the songs that emerged during our symphony. The rest of the service fell into place, too, as I listened to the Spirit’s guidance and felt her surrounding me in the beauty of that sacred space that day.
That night, when Ruby Ann Jones Fulbright and I returned to our old lady rocking chairs, we were able to sit and reflect on the morning’s service and smile. We don’t always understand God and God’s timing. We know that for sure. But we understand that God is always with us, guiding us, directing us, loving us, and catching our burdens when we release them. We even understand that God is with us when do odd things...like ask a group of college-aged girls to sing in an unplanned, unfamiliar, unconventional, cacophonous symphony of praise!
On Saturday night, after teaching the staff about worship and love languages and singing a song at campfire, I met with Ruby Ann Jones Fulbright to plan the worship service for Sunday morning. Like two old women, we sat in the gliding rocking chairs in the camp infirmary and talked. We laughed and cried and attempted to stay on topic, but ultimately we didn’t do a very good job planning worship because wandering life-thoughts kept our attention astray.
As I mentioned in Monday’s note (“Oh Worship”), when I plan worship I tend to let “lots and lots of ideas float around [in my head] until something seems right.” Since Ruby and I didn’t land on a theme that seemed right, I went to bed in the floating stage. I knew what Ruby was going to speak about so I let the ideas float and hoped that I would wake up with a sense of clarity in the morning.
I didn’t. I woke up with a headache.
As I zombied my way through breakfast with furrowed brow, I confessed to Ruby that I wasn’t having a clear since of direction about the morning’s service. I confessed this fact again to Hanna, the summer’s worship leader, and explained how I was uncertain about what songs to lead because I didn’t know who would be familiar with what—and I didn’t think that Sunday morning was the time to be teaching new songs. I don’t know a lot of popular “contemporary” praise/worship songs and I’m not 100% sure what hymn texts people know by memory these days so I was sort of stuck. I had no peace about the opening song(s), special music, offertory music, or theme interpretation...
So I sat down on the stage in the outdoor chapel, wrote out the order of service, and prayed that God would let me know what to do about everything else. That’s when chiggers (red bugs) attacked me. But I didn’t know it until Monday.
When the worship service began, I still had no idea what music we would be doing. As Ruby led the prayer calendar and shared her prayer calendar experience from the mission field, I looked at my closed guitar case and thought, “I still don’t know what songs to lead. We’re bringing it to the wire, God. What songs should I lead?”
Then something happened. I have no idea what words sparked the idea but I know it was something that Ruby said. “Remember the symphony of prayer you led at ALT—where everyone prayed at the same time?” I thought to myself. “Why not ask everyone sing at the same time? That way, people who know praise songs can sing praise songs. People who know hymns can sing hymns. People who are filled with joy and excitement can sing songs of praise. People who are struggling and/or feeling overwhelmed can sings of prayer and mercy. The girls can scatter around the outdoor chapel if they’re worried about someone hearing them sing, but with everyone singing at the same time that shouldn’t be a problem. It’ll give everyone a chance for her own voice to be heard and it will solve the dilemma of choosing music that everyone knows.”
Holy ghost goose bumps covered my body and God’s peaceful spirit came upon me as a breeze rustled through the trees and a hawk soared overhead. Finally, things seemed “right.”
The staff looked at me like I was crazy when I told them what we’d be doing. After a moment of odd silence, one girl began singing “Ode To Joy” very loudly. No one else sang. People weren’t sure if they should sing along or if they should start their own song. I said, “You don’t have to all sing together. Sing whatever you want. Get up. Move around. Lift your voice to God.” At that moment, with that permission, with “Ode To Joy” still being sung in the background, other people began singing their own songs of prayer and praise. All at once, in that sacred space, a cacophonous symphony of voices was being raised to God. It sounded awful and beautiful and chaotic and peaceful and sad and joyful all at once.
We ended our symphony with the unison thought that “Our God Is An Awesome God,” and at the end of the service we revisited one of the songs that emerged during our symphony. The rest of the service fell into place, too, as I listened to the Spirit’s guidance and felt her surrounding me in the beauty of that sacred space that day.
That night, when Ruby Ann Jones Fulbright and I returned to our old lady rocking chairs, we were able to sit and reflect on the morning’s service and smile. We don’t always understand God and God’s timing. We know that for sure. But we understand that God is always with us, guiding us, directing us, loving us, and catching our burdens when we release them. We even understand that God is with us when do odd things...like ask a group of college-aged girls to sing in an unplanned, unfamiliar, unconventional, cacophonous symphony of praise!
Monday, June 4, 2012
Oh Worship
Over the weekend, I spent approximately 15 hours training the summer camp staff at Camp Mundo Vista in Asheboro, NC. During our time together, we focused on worship, love languages, personality type, communication, and basic family systems theory. We also worshipped together and learned a bit about Project Help: Human Exploitation. I’ve been doing this training for four years. Each year it’s changed a bit. It’s expanded from just worship training to training on various other topics and the actual training on worship has changed depending on the summer’s worship leader and my understanding of worship. I look forward to this training every year because it lets me teach about many of the things that are dearest to my heart AND allows me to meet and become friends with some amazing people.
Tammy Tate: Thank you for seeing the giftedness in people and allowing us to use those gifts in the Body of Christ. I’m glad that this year I wasn’t sick and actually had a voice!
As I prepared for the worship portion of this year’s training, I reflected on an experience that I had a few weekends ago at Associational Leadership Training at Camp La Vida. When I plan a worship service, I usually let lots and lots of ideas float around until something seems “right.” I don’t know how to explain when I know that it’s right, but it’s a calm that I get—a peace—like I know it’s where the worship service should go.
While waiting for that peace to come with ALT worship planning, I found myself constantly praying, “God. Help me know how to plan this service so that you will be honored.” Then I thought, “Wait. Worship is supposed to be about honoring God and giving back to God. So shouldn’t this be about what we think of for God instead of asking God to show us how to worship?” The more I thought, the more I wondered, “And if worship is about honoring God, then why do we always ask God to speak to us during worship? Doesn’t that make the ultimate object of worship us—what we can get from God—not what we give to God in sacrifice and praise?”
As I waded through all of the thoughts and ideas in my mind, I finally stumbled upon the peace that I needed. I knew which direction to take the service and did everything I could do to allow the service to flow through different types of prayer, singing, hearing of God’s word, experiencing God’s story, giving, and responding. In the end, I think a space was created for participants to worship and that God was honored during the time. I think, too, that God spoke to many people and that they walked away feeling different than when they entered one hour before.
When I got to my room that night, I fell onto my bed and said, “Thank you, God. Thank you for letting worship go well tonight.” And I meant it. But then I thought, “Wait a minute. If God directed the service and caused it to go well, then how was it worship? If God was doing the guiding, then how were we freely honoring God?”
And then it hit me: Think of worship sort of like a well-planned birthday party, Deanna. When planning a big birthday party—unless it’s a surprise—the person being celebrated is often consulted. Sometimes, the person being celebrated even pays the bill. She gives party ideas, offers what guidance she can, but she then allows her friends and family, the party planners, to take care of the details. On the night of the party, the honoree gets to attend her party and be honored by everyone who joins her. She gets to see what the party planners have done with what she’s given them and she gets to celebrate how they have given a celebration back to her. She enjoys the party and the people who attend enjoy it as well. She blesses each person who attends and is grateful they’re in her life. She is proud to know them and proud to see how far they’ve come since the last party. Attendees often have meaningful conversations with the guest of honor or other people at the party. They eat, drink, and fellowship together. They tell stories of the honoree. They meet new people. And sometimes lives are changed by something that happens at the party. But... the main idea of the party is to celebrate the honoree.
In this analogy for worship, God, of course, is the person being honored. Those who plan worship are the party planners. Those who attend the party are those who attend worship. The party happens more than once a year. And the fellowship that occurs is the same that can occur at worship. This may seem so simple, yet...
Somehow, in my room that night, thinking of worship like a well-planned birthday celebration hit me in a new way. Maybe I’d heard the analogy before? Maybe I hadn’t? I don’t know. I just know that in that moment I smiled and thanked God for giving me (and my coworkers) some ideas, allowing us the freedom to develop them, offering the space for celebration, attending the service to be honored, speaking to each of the guests, and calming my mind’s wondering about why—and how—God should involved in planning God’s own worship. I think that God smiled, too.
Don’t worry. I didn’t go into all of those details this weekend. I very simply said, “Worship tends to be most meaningful when planned. Think: Successful birthday celebration. We plan. God is honored.”
May God be honored in their worship this summer. And may we include the guest of honor in our worship planning for each day.
Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is —his good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans 12:1-2
Tammy Tate: Thank you for seeing the giftedness in people and allowing us to use those gifts in the Body of Christ. I’m glad that this year I wasn’t sick and actually had a voice!
As I prepared for the worship portion of this year’s training, I reflected on an experience that I had a few weekends ago at Associational Leadership Training at Camp La Vida. When I plan a worship service, I usually let lots and lots of ideas float around until something seems “right.” I don’t know how to explain when I know that it’s right, but it’s a calm that I get—a peace—like I know it’s where the worship service should go.
While waiting for that peace to come with ALT worship planning, I found myself constantly praying, “God. Help me know how to plan this service so that you will be honored.” Then I thought, “Wait. Worship is supposed to be about honoring God and giving back to God. So shouldn’t this be about what we think of for God instead of asking God to show us how to worship?” The more I thought, the more I wondered, “And if worship is about honoring God, then why do we always ask God to speak to us during worship? Doesn’t that make the ultimate object of worship us—what we can get from God—not what we give to God in sacrifice and praise?”
As I waded through all of the thoughts and ideas in my mind, I finally stumbled upon the peace that I needed. I knew which direction to take the service and did everything I could do to allow the service to flow through different types of prayer, singing, hearing of God’s word, experiencing God’s story, giving, and responding. In the end, I think a space was created for participants to worship and that God was honored during the time. I think, too, that God spoke to many people and that they walked away feeling different than when they entered one hour before.
When I got to my room that night, I fell onto my bed and said, “Thank you, God. Thank you for letting worship go well tonight.” And I meant it. But then I thought, “Wait a minute. If God directed the service and caused it to go well, then how was it worship? If God was doing the guiding, then how were we freely honoring God?”
And then it hit me: Think of worship sort of like a well-planned birthday party, Deanna. When planning a big birthday party—unless it’s a surprise—the person being celebrated is often consulted. Sometimes, the person being celebrated even pays the bill. She gives party ideas, offers what guidance she can, but she then allows her friends and family, the party planners, to take care of the details. On the night of the party, the honoree gets to attend her party and be honored by everyone who joins her. She gets to see what the party planners have done with what she’s given them and she gets to celebrate how they have given a celebration back to her. She enjoys the party and the people who attend enjoy it as well. She blesses each person who attends and is grateful they’re in her life. She is proud to know them and proud to see how far they’ve come since the last party. Attendees often have meaningful conversations with the guest of honor or other people at the party. They eat, drink, and fellowship together. They tell stories of the honoree. They meet new people. And sometimes lives are changed by something that happens at the party. But... the main idea of the party is to celebrate the honoree.
In this analogy for worship, God, of course, is the person being honored. Those who plan worship are the party planners. Those who attend the party are those who attend worship. The party happens more than once a year. And the fellowship that occurs is the same that can occur at worship. This may seem so simple, yet...
Somehow, in my room that night, thinking of worship like a well-planned birthday celebration hit me in a new way. Maybe I’d heard the analogy before? Maybe I hadn’t? I don’t know. I just know that in that moment I smiled and thanked God for giving me (and my coworkers) some ideas, allowing us the freedom to develop them, offering the space for celebration, attending the service to be honored, speaking to each of the guests, and calming my mind’s wondering about why—and how—God should involved in planning God’s own worship. I think that God smiled, too.
Don’t worry. I didn’t go into all of those details this weekend. I very simply said, “Worship tends to be most meaningful when planned. Think: Successful birthday celebration. We plan. God is honored.”
May God be honored in their worship this summer. And may we include the guest of honor in our worship planning for each day.
Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is —his good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans 12:1-2
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