4.4.19—The Power of Naming
Kindergarten Student One: “Ms. Deaton. We had you for music today.”
Me: “Yep. You sure did.”
Kindergarten Student Two: “Ms. Deaton! My grandma always looks for you in the car rider line and she misses you when you aren’t here. She says that when you’re here, the line moves faster than it does for everyone else.”
Me: “Well that was nice of her to say.”
And then I walked to my place smiling.
I wasn’t very gracious with myself at the beginning of the year, friends. The transition from Johnsonville to Greenwood was, first, not expected, and, second, much harder than I think it should have been. With all my years of counseling—with all my knowledge of being present, not judging myself too harshly, allowing life to happen as it comes—with all my understanding of transition and grief, letting go and moving on, time and patience—I found myself being incredibly hard on myself and not granting myself patience or grace for not immediately knowing every students’ name or every cars’ driver…which I knew was ridiculous because I know that it takes time to learn the names of 700 students and their cars’ drivers!
Here’s what I’ve realized recently, though: I was doing the best that I could. What I didn’t want to admit was that my brain chemicals were falling out of whack and I needed to adjust my anxiety medication. Some of you may judge me or look down upon me for this next statement, but I have been on anxiety medicine for the past 12 years. I have been diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), and its effects are mentally and emotionally crippling. Everyone has anxiety. Everyone deals with ups and downs in moods and emotions. Anxiety and depression are normal parts of life. But those of us diagnosed with GAD struggle with anxiety to the point that, untreated, it interferes with our ability to properly function in our every day lives. I didn’t want to admit that my body had become used to the dosage of medicine that it had been taking. I didn’t want to admit that I needed something different. And so I struggled my way through months of transition, beating myself up for things I knew weren’t worthy of the time and effort that I was pouring into them…yet I couldn’t stop…
Today, for the first time this year, I did roll call without having to depend on my class list to know the students’ names. Friends: This was huge to me! Finally, after nine months at Greenwood, I have learned an entire class of names! I’ve learned a lot of names. I know more names now than not. But sometimes I still get confused as to who is who, so to have that certainty for even one class is a really good feeling!
What’s more, I’ve almost got the car line memorized! There are just a few cars that trip me up—and then the daily guests. I’ve had a few parents and teachers comment on how efficiently the line is running this year and how impressed they are that I have learned so many names. I must admit—the compliments feel nice—especially knowing how hard I was on myself for not having names memorized at the end of week one!
Needless to say, I’ve come a long way since the beginning of the year, friends. And it’s not just with names. It’s with heart, soul, and mind as well. I have recently adjusted my medication. The crippling, relentless anxiety is subsiding and I am starting to see, feel, and think more clearly again. I am starting to think about hopes and dreams again and renewing my desire to see beyond fear and what if’s and to remember that life truly is a series of todays that God is creating into tomorrows with us, for us, and oftentimes despite us…
Kindergarten Student Three: “I love you, Ms. Deaton.”
Me: “I love you, too.”
“And I know your name,” I thought, “Just as God knows my name.”
And I smiled.
God knows your name, too, friend, and cares for you and your struggles…even those, like mental illness, you think you must hide.
Thursday, April 4, 2019
Monday, April 1, 2019
Prodigal Poems
4.1.19—Prodigal Poems
When I was in high school, my youth minister gave me a Rich Mullins tape. (Yes. A tape. :-o) I listened to said tape every morning on the way to school, and its songs became foundational to my faith. My favorite song on the album was called “Growing Young.” It is the story of the prodigal son. To this day, the story of the prodigal son is one of my favorites…and I think that it might be so because of the imagery planted by “Growing Young.”
I’ve gone so far from my home ~ Seen the world and I have known ~ So many secrets I wish now I did not know ~ They have crept into my heart ~ They have left it cold and dark and bleeding ~ Bleeding and falling apart ~ And everybody used to tell me big boys don’t cry ~ But I’ve been around enough to know that that was a lie ~ That held back the tears of a thousand prodigal songs ~ We are children no more, we have sinned and grown old ~ And our father still waits and he watches down the road ~ To see the crying boys come running back to His arms ~ And be growing young ~ Growing young…
Confession: I didn’t want to go to church yesterday. I wanted to stay home and rest. Yet a friend really wanted me to attend church with her so I went. And I’m so glad that I did. Yesterday’s sermon was on prodigal son, the father, and the “other” son. The whole service was beautiful. We even prayed that poets and musicians would find the words to express the divine.
As I listened to the pastor speak, I took notes on what she was saying. Sometimes, I think, we can hear the stories of scripture so much that we forget really to hear them. I heard the story yesterday. And it spoke to me. The pastor’s words and interpretation spoke to me, too. So after church, after going to my car and crying the tears that I’d been fighting back during the service, I turned those notes into simple poems. I want to share those poems here. I pray that something in their words will bless you as they blessed me. I pray that something here will express the divine.
(i)
It’s not repent or hell will swallow you up
It’s repent for the Kingdom of God is waiting,
The life changing, life giving embrace of the father is waiting,
Compassion is waiting.
(ii)
As Christians,
Are we free to love and give or
Are we slaves serving in misery?
(iii)
May we take
deep, refreshing breaths
of the cool, crisp
air of eternity.
(iv)
Resentment
causes us
to miss the
divine love surrounding us.
(v)
I want to be a
Pastor. I’m tired of pretense
and fear. Show me how.
“When he came to himself…he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him…(and) they began to celebrate. Meanwhile, the older son…became angry and refused to (celebrate). So his father went out and pleaded with him…‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’” Excerpts from Luke 14:11-32
When I was in high school, my youth minister gave me a Rich Mullins tape. (Yes. A tape. :-o) I listened to said tape every morning on the way to school, and its songs became foundational to my faith. My favorite song on the album was called “Growing Young.” It is the story of the prodigal son. To this day, the story of the prodigal son is one of my favorites…and I think that it might be so because of the imagery planted by “Growing Young.”
I’ve gone so far from my home ~ Seen the world and I have known ~ So many secrets I wish now I did not know ~ They have crept into my heart ~ They have left it cold and dark and bleeding ~ Bleeding and falling apart ~ And everybody used to tell me big boys don’t cry ~ But I’ve been around enough to know that that was a lie ~ That held back the tears of a thousand prodigal songs ~ We are children no more, we have sinned and grown old ~ And our father still waits and he watches down the road ~ To see the crying boys come running back to His arms ~ And be growing young ~ Growing young…
Confession: I didn’t want to go to church yesterday. I wanted to stay home and rest. Yet a friend really wanted me to attend church with her so I went. And I’m so glad that I did. Yesterday’s sermon was on prodigal son, the father, and the “other” son. The whole service was beautiful. We even prayed that poets and musicians would find the words to express the divine.
As I listened to the pastor speak, I took notes on what she was saying. Sometimes, I think, we can hear the stories of scripture so much that we forget really to hear them. I heard the story yesterday. And it spoke to me. The pastor’s words and interpretation spoke to me, too. So after church, after going to my car and crying the tears that I’d been fighting back during the service, I turned those notes into simple poems. I want to share those poems here. I pray that something in their words will bless you as they blessed me. I pray that something here will express the divine.
(i)
It’s not repent or hell will swallow you up
It’s repent for the Kingdom of God is waiting,
The life changing, life giving embrace of the father is waiting,
Compassion is waiting.
(ii)
As Christians,
Are we free to love and give or
Are we slaves serving in misery?
(iii)
May we take
deep, refreshing breaths
of the cool, crisp
air of eternity.
(iv)
Resentment
causes us
to miss the
divine love surrounding us.
(v)
I want to be a
Pastor. I’m tired of pretense
and fear. Show me how.
“When he came to himself…he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him…(and) they began to celebrate. Meanwhile, the older son…became angry and refused to (celebrate). So his father went out and pleaded with him…‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’” Excerpts from Luke 14:11-32
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Our of Haiku Land
Does anyone but me use the “Notes” app on his/her phone? I use mine all the time! In fact, as I write these words tonight, I have 459 notes sitting on my phone…and they go back to June 2016 when I first upgraded my phone from a dumb phone to a smart phone. I have a few lists, some sermon notes, a couple of vacation logs, some documents, a couple of rough drafts of speeches, some regular poems, and a lot of haiku. A. LOT. OF. HAIKU.
I wandered into Haiku Land in 2016 when the pastor of my church rather abruptly resigned. I understood the resignation but it was still very hard and the only thing I knew to do was to write through it…only…all that came out was haiku. For the most part, it stayed that way for three years. I’d try to write. It’d come out 5-7-5. I’d put it in a note on my phone. I’d move on.
For almost thirty years, I’ve written my songs and poems into blank books that friends have given me along the way. Before computer/phone-writing became the norm, I jotted down poems on yellow pads of paper, scratch paper, napkins, offering envelopes, or anything that was available when inspiration struck. I then gathered and compiled all of the poems so I’d have a chronological record of my life through poetry. I’m about three years behind on updating my books. Can you guess why? Because all of the poems, the haiku really, are sitting happily dated in the Notes app on my phone.
Yesterday, I started retrieving the poems from the last three years of my life so that I can edit them and write them into my books. While I realize that the handwritten compilation isn’t as important as it once was, I still want to complete the process. I want to have evidence of how my handwriting has changed—and boy has it changed over the years! I want to remember the times and events that brought forth the words. I want to see how I’ve grown and how I’ve stayed the same. I want to remember and be grateful. I want to remember and mourn. I want to slow down and go back to the basics of pen and paper. Everything is so fast these days—so instant. Sometimes, I think, it’s good to go back and do things the old way. Sometimes, I think, it’s good to slow down.
I’m happy to report that I have recently walked out of Haiku Land and that I’ve been able to write a few things that aren’t haiku. I thought I’d share some of those writings here tonight…and a couple of haiku, as well. I thank the note feature on my phone for capturing these words. And I ask you: What is something you need to slow down to do? Maybe you need to write a poem, too.
------
Sometimes, my mind spins
Out of control until I
Speak aloud Just stop
------
We carry invisible monsters every day.
Mine is in my gut, a deep down shame.
Yours may be in your head, a whirlwind of damning thought.
When we’re fortunate, our monsters sleep.
They lie dormant, in repose,
Content with the spoils of their last feed.
When we’re not so fortunate, our monsters rage.
They rise up with vengeance,
Determined to wreak havoc and stop at nothing less than blood.
But we don’t have to give it to them--
Not anymore.
Our monsters don’t like compassion.
Brave welcome and forgiveness are their kryptonite.
Hand over hand, strengths over weaknesses,
Open acceptance stops fingers from clawing and blades from slicing.
Our monsters have met their match:
Monsters cannot thrive in the light of Love.
------
Help me focus, God,
On the things that must be done
Calm everything else
------
Lay your head on my shoulder, friend,
And I will silently pray
For the screaming to be quieted,
the racing thoughts to slow their pace,
God’s still small voice to be louder than any other,
structure and order to click into place.
Lay your head on my shoulder, friend,
And I will silently pray
Peace unto you.
Peace fill your mind,
Peace fill your heart,
Peace wash over your people.
Peace...
Peace...
Peace...
I wandered into Haiku Land in 2016 when the pastor of my church rather abruptly resigned. I understood the resignation but it was still very hard and the only thing I knew to do was to write through it…only…all that came out was haiku. For the most part, it stayed that way for three years. I’d try to write. It’d come out 5-7-5. I’d put it in a note on my phone. I’d move on.
For almost thirty years, I’ve written my songs and poems into blank books that friends have given me along the way. Before computer/phone-writing became the norm, I jotted down poems on yellow pads of paper, scratch paper, napkins, offering envelopes, or anything that was available when inspiration struck. I then gathered and compiled all of the poems so I’d have a chronological record of my life through poetry. I’m about three years behind on updating my books. Can you guess why? Because all of the poems, the haiku really, are sitting happily dated in the Notes app on my phone.
Yesterday, I started retrieving the poems from the last three years of my life so that I can edit them and write them into my books. While I realize that the handwritten compilation isn’t as important as it once was, I still want to complete the process. I want to have evidence of how my handwriting has changed—and boy has it changed over the years! I want to remember the times and events that brought forth the words. I want to see how I’ve grown and how I’ve stayed the same. I want to remember and be grateful. I want to remember and mourn. I want to slow down and go back to the basics of pen and paper. Everything is so fast these days—so instant. Sometimes, I think, it’s good to go back and do things the old way. Sometimes, I think, it’s good to slow down.
I’m happy to report that I have recently walked out of Haiku Land and that I’ve been able to write a few things that aren’t haiku. I thought I’d share some of those writings here tonight…and a couple of haiku, as well. I thank the note feature on my phone for capturing these words. And I ask you: What is something you need to slow down to do? Maybe you need to write a poem, too.
------
Sometimes, my mind spins
Out of control until I
Speak aloud Just stop
------
We carry invisible monsters every day.
Mine is in my gut, a deep down shame.
Yours may be in your head, a whirlwind of damning thought.
When we’re fortunate, our monsters sleep.
They lie dormant, in repose,
Content with the spoils of their last feed.
When we’re not so fortunate, our monsters rage.
They rise up with vengeance,
Determined to wreak havoc and stop at nothing less than blood.
But we don’t have to give it to them--
Not anymore.
Our monsters don’t like compassion.
Brave welcome and forgiveness are their kryptonite.
Hand over hand, strengths over weaknesses,
Open acceptance stops fingers from clawing and blades from slicing.
Our monsters have met their match:
Monsters cannot thrive in the light of Love.
------
Help me focus, God,
On the things that must be done
Calm everything else
------
Lay your head on my shoulder, friend,
And I will silently pray
For the screaming to be quieted,
the racing thoughts to slow their pace,
God’s still small voice to be louder than any other,
structure and order to click into place.
Lay your head on my shoulder, friend,
And I will silently pray
Peace unto you.
Peace fill your mind,
Peace fill your heart,
Peace wash over your people.
Peace...
Peace...
Peace...
Monday, March 25, 2019
It's Time To Start Writing Again
For the past few weeks, I’ve had the privilege of worshipping with someone whom I’ve considered a mentor for many years. Mrs. Kathy is not only an elementary music teacher but also the minister of music at a local church, and she is the music teacher and minister that I strive to be. I admire her talent, her spirit, her humility, her shoes, and her heart for God…so to have the opportunity to make music with and learn from her has been an absolute privilege.
Yesterday, on a very rare Sunday, Mrs. Kathy was out of town. She trusted me to lead worship for her, and I’m so glad that she did. Yesterday’s sermon really spoke to me. Yesterday’s sermon is why I’m writing this note today.
The pastor said, “There are some of you here today who need to stop something. There are others of you who need to start something. Whatever it is that you need to stop or start, you need to do it right now.”
Well, friends. I was the “some of you” that fit into both categories. I needed to stop making excuses and start writing again—not for fame or fortune—but for me—for you—for anyone who might read whatever it is that pours from the fingers of my heart.
For years, I wrote every Monday and Thursday. No matter where I was. No matter what I was doing. No matter if I had internet access or not. I wrote. It was a discipline. And it left me with page upon page of stories, memories, struggles, and joys that I otherwise would have forgotten. But then I started graduate school and my writing fell out of rhythm. And that was two years ago.
There is no good reason that I didn’t start writing again after I finished my degree. I’ve thought about it many times—more times than I care to admit. I’ve convinced myself of the merits of the discipline and supported others who have desired to write. I just haven’t made myself sit down and write…because…well…I haven’t felt like I’ve had anything to say.
About a year ago, I first heard a song called “Fear Is A Liar.” I cried. Fear is liar and it had—has—been lying to me for a long time. I’ve overcome some of fear’s lies, but other lies still hold me in their clutch—like the lie that I have nothing to say. Everyone has something to say. Everyone has a story. And everyone’s story connects to everyone else’s story in some way because we are all on this human journey together. And yet…fear lies.
It’s time for me to stop believing fear’s lies—at least about my writing…and about one more thing:
I love to lead worship. I am so grateful that Mrs. Kathy has seen this truth in me and given me an opportunity to play alongside her. I love to lead retreats. I love to help with camps. I love being “Deanna Deaton, Retreat and Worship Leader,” and I want to be that person again. She has been hiding for years. The fears of not being good enough—of being seen but misunderstood—of being rejected—of being told that I am inferior because I am a woman—have kept me from pursuing that which I love the most: Writing. Leading. Music. Personality type. Love languages. Worship. Spiritual Formation.
I don’t know what God is nudging you to stop or start, friends—although I imagine that there is something--but as for me, God is nudging me to release my grip on these damning fears once and for all. It’s time to stop believing the lies, friends. It’s time to start writing again—not for fame or fortune—but for me—for God—for you—for anyone who might read whatever pours from the fingers of our hearts.
-----
Fear Is a Liar by Zach Williams
When he told you you're not good enough
When he told you you're not right
When he told you you're not strong enough
To put up a good fight
When he told you you're not worthy
When he told you you're not loved
When he told you you're not beautiful
That you'll never be enough
When he told you were troubled
You'll forever be alone
When he told you you should run away
You'll never find a home
When he told you you were dirty
And you should be ashamed
When he told you you could be the one
That grace could never change
Fear, he is a liar
He will take your breath
Stop you in your steps
Fear he is a liar
He will rob your rest
Steal your happiness
Cast your fear in the fire
'Cause fear he is a liar
Let Your fire fall and cast out all my fears
Let Your fire fall Your love is all I feel…
Yesterday, on a very rare Sunday, Mrs. Kathy was out of town. She trusted me to lead worship for her, and I’m so glad that she did. Yesterday’s sermon really spoke to me. Yesterday’s sermon is why I’m writing this note today.
The pastor said, “There are some of you here today who need to stop something. There are others of you who need to start something. Whatever it is that you need to stop or start, you need to do it right now.”
Well, friends. I was the “some of you” that fit into both categories. I needed to stop making excuses and start writing again—not for fame or fortune—but for me—for you—for anyone who might read whatever it is that pours from the fingers of my heart.
For years, I wrote every Monday and Thursday. No matter where I was. No matter what I was doing. No matter if I had internet access or not. I wrote. It was a discipline. And it left me with page upon page of stories, memories, struggles, and joys that I otherwise would have forgotten. But then I started graduate school and my writing fell out of rhythm. And that was two years ago.
There is no good reason that I didn’t start writing again after I finished my degree. I’ve thought about it many times—more times than I care to admit. I’ve convinced myself of the merits of the discipline and supported others who have desired to write. I just haven’t made myself sit down and write…because…well…I haven’t felt like I’ve had anything to say.
About a year ago, I first heard a song called “Fear Is A Liar.” I cried. Fear is liar and it had—has—been lying to me for a long time. I’ve overcome some of fear’s lies, but other lies still hold me in their clutch—like the lie that I have nothing to say. Everyone has something to say. Everyone has a story. And everyone’s story connects to everyone else’s story in some way because we are all on this human journey together. And yet…fear lies.
It’s time for me to stop believing fear’s lies—at least about my writing…and about one more thing:
I love to lead worship. I am so grateful that Mrs. Kathy has seen this truth in me and given me an opportunity to play alongside her. I love to lead retreats. I love to help with camps. I love being “Deanna Deaton, Retreat and Worship Leader,” and I want to be that person again. She has been hiding for years. The fears of not being good enough—of being seen but misunderstood—of being rejected—of being told that I am inferior because I am a woman—have kept me from pursuing that which I love the most: Writing. Leading. Music. Personality type. Love languages. Worship. Spiritual Formation.
I don’t know what God is nudging you to stop or start, friends—although I imagine that there is something--but as for me, God is nudging me to release my grip on these damning fears once and for all. It’s time to stop believing the lies, friends. It’s time to start writing again—not for fame or fortune—but for me—for God—for you—for anyone who might read whatever pours from the fingers of our hearts.
-----
Fear Is a Liar by Zach Williams
When he told you you're not good enough
When he told you you're not right
When he told you you're not strong enough
To put up a good fight
When he told you you're not worthy
When he told you you're not loved
When he told you you're not beautiful
That you'll never be enough
When he told you were troubled
You'll forever be alone
When he told you you should run away
You'll never find a home
When he told you you were dirty
And you should be ashamed
When he told you you could be the one
That grace could never change
Fear, he is a liar
He will take your breath
Stop you in your steps
Fear he is a liar
He will rob your rest
Steal your happiness
Cast your fear in the fire
'Cause fear he is a liar
Let Your fire fall and cast out all my fears
Let Your fire fall Your love is all I feel…
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
No Fear Worm
This is what I see every morning when I come down the stairs: Marcenivo holding a sign that says “No Fear” and a yellow worm shining bright in colorful, abstract forest.
The titles of these words, respectively, are “No Place For You Here” and “Worm Shining Bright In The Forest In The Night.”
The artists are, respectively, Fabio Napoleoni and Dr. Suess.
The print mediums are, respectively, paper and wooden puzzle.
The purchase places are Fascination St. Fine Art in Denver, Colorado, and Gallery of Fine Art in Wilmington, NC.
The pieces were framed, respectively, by Nick and Steve at Hobby Lobby in Sanford, NC, and by Deanna and Sandra at home with a frame ordered directly from the puzzle company, Liberty Puzzles.
Not much is the same about these pieces. And yet they both set the tone of my day:
Live with no fear, Deanna. There is no fear in love. And be a worm shining bright in the dark in the night. Even in the middle of the day.
May they set the tone of your day, too, friends. Let’s be fearless, glowing worms together!
Thursday, May 18, 2017
Thursday Night Thoughts From A Recovering People Pleaser
Before Texas Flip and Move, it was Rehab Addict. I still like Rehab Addict, but our DVR got reset and stopped recording it, so I haven’t been watching it recently. I actually didn’t know if they were still recording, but a quick Internet search revealed that they are…and that Nicole Curtis has had another baby…and some other really damning things about her.
As my mom and I scrolled through “The Truth About Nicole Curtis,” I read a bunch of really horrible things about this woman that I have come to admire via her TV show and Facebook page. Truth be told, Nicole’s philosophy of restoring old homes to their original glory has really influenced my thinking and changed the way that I think about restoration and redemption. So to read terrible things about her—her actions, decisions, personality, and life—was very disheartening…until I realized that if someone doesn’t like someone else—for whatever reason—then he/she can spin a tale to say whatever he/she wants it to say against whoever he/she wants to attack.
…
I am a recovering people-pleaser. Pin it on my personality type—or on being a preacher’s kid—but I am one of those people who cares a bit too much about what other people think. Years of therapy and a lot of prayer have nudged me out of the paralyzing fear that I used to live in, but quiet fear still lingers in my core—fear of disappointing, fear of not being liked, fear of making the wrong decision, fear of being questioned. Though logically I know that fear is not of God—I use the transitive property of fear here: If God is love, and there is no fear in love, then in God there is no fear—and though I know that living life worried about other peoples’ perceptions of me is no way to truly live—I, in all of my very human imperfection, still do it.
I think that this is part of the reason why major decisions are so difficult for me. I not only think about how a decision will affect me, but I think about how it will affect everyone else involved and how everyone else involved (and even people not involved) will perceive the decision. I know. This is somewhat egocentric. I know that I can’t control how someone else will react. I experience this all the time when my students love the songs I think that they will hate and hate the songs I think they will love. And it is crazy-making. But such is the reality of my life more often than I care to admit.
Friends: This is not good for someone going to graduate school for school administration!
Confession: I’m not sure why I’m going to graduate school. I know that God nudged me in this direction at 3am on a cruise ship in the Baltic Sea, but I don’t know what I’m going to do with the degree. School administration was never really on my radar screen. School music? Yes. Church administration? Yes. School administration? No. And yet...
…
I saw a sign on the way to work this morning that said, “God just wants your ‘yes.’” I prayed aloud, “God, I’m saying ‘yes.’ I just don’t know what I’m saying yes to.” Then I silently continued, “Will you show me what I’m saying yes to—and how it is that I need to get there? My yes is and always has been to you, your call, and your desire for my life. My yes is to your love, peace, and justice, and I want to live in those—with integrity—but I need you to clearly show me how to make decisions that are fair, just, right, ethical, positive, and life-giving and I need you to give me the courage to make those decisions—for myself and for that which I have been called to lead—because I cannot do it alone. I’m really bad at it. Because I’m afraid of making the wrong decisions and I’m afraid that someone will get mad at me. Ugh. I don’t even like the words ‘right’ and ‘wrong.’ But you know what I mean.”
…
This afternoon, I had the unique experience of sitting with a student who needed to be separated from his class during Field Day. He is an extremely high functioning autistic student who can tell you more than you ever need to know about dinosaurs and sea animals, and the super-sensory experience of Field Day had finally gotten to be too much. After a brief lesson on dolphins vs. porpoises, my student asked if he could draw with the sidewalk chalk. The teacher who owned the sidewalk chalk said that that would be fine, so off went my kid. He drew gigantic animals over the entirety of the sidewalk, so avoiding the drawings was difficult for a seeing person—much less someone who is blind! But my kid didn’t care about that.
When Stacey-My-Blind-Friend-and-Teacher stopped to talk to a colleague and landed right in the middle of an animal, my kid politely interrupted her conversation with an excuse me, waited to be acknowledged, and then proceeded to stutteringly, matter-of-factly- but without eye-contact ask Stacey to move off of his drawing. He was not trying to be mean, rude, or inconsiderate. He didn’t worry how Stacey would respond. If she would have gotten mad, then he would have gotten mad, too. Plain and simple. That’s how things work. My student simply stated his truth and desires and trusted the receiver to respond. As it was, Stacey gladly moved and immediately began talking to the student about his drawings, so he immediately began to share information about his drawings—that she could not see and that he could not know she could never fully understand. The whole situation made me chuckle. But then I realized just what an example my student had been.
…
Despite my best efforts to stay in people’s good graces—I’m a recovering people-pleaser, remember—I have realized all too painfully that if someone decides that she does not like me, then she can easily piece together stories slamming my merits, no matter how hard I have tried to please her or how determinedly I have tried to do the best thing. I know this. I have experienced it. I just hope that when it happens again—because it will happen again—I can look up with the certainty of how I need to react and then act with that certainty, just as my student acted today. I hope that I can look up with the humility to say yes and then follow where that yes leads. And I hope that when my character is attacked and my decisions are questioned—as teacher, minister, family member, friend, customer, or yes, even, administrator—that I will be able to keep moving forward, offering hope, restoration, and redemption, one house—no—one person—and decision—at a time.
As my mom and I scrolled through “The Truth About Nicole Curtis,” I read a bunch of really horrible things about this woman that I have come to admire via her TV show and Facebook page. Truth be told, Nicole’s philosophy of restoring old homes to their original glory has really influenced my thinking and changed the way that I think about restoration and redemption. So to read terrible things about her—her actions, decisions, personality, and life—was very disheartening…until I realized that if someone doesn’t like someone else—for whatever reason—then he/she can spin a tale to say whatever he/she wants it to say against whoever he/she wants to attack.
…
I am a recovering people-pleaser. Pin it on my personality type—or on being a preacher’s kid—but I am one of those people who cares a bit too much about what other people think. Years of therapy and a lot of prayer have nudged me out of the paralyzing fear that I used to live in, but quiet fear still lingers in my core—fear of disappointing, fear of not being liked, fear of making the wrong decision, fear of being questioned. Though logically I know that fear is not of God—I use the transitive property of fear here: If God is love, and there is no fear in love, then in God there is no fear—and though I know that living life worried about other peoples’ perceptions of me is no way to truly live—I, in all of my very human imperfection, still do it.
I think that this is part of the reason why major decisions are so difficult for me. I not only think about how a decision will affect me, but I think about how it will affect everyone else involved and how everyone else involved (and even people not involved) will perceive the decision. I know. This is somewhat egocentric. I know that I can’t control how someone else will react. I experience this all the time when my students love the songs I think that they will hate and hate the songs I think they will love. And it is crazy-making. But such is the reality of my life more often than I care to admit.
Friends: This is not good for someone going to graduate school for school administration!
Confession: I’m not sure why I’m going to graduate school. I know that God nudged me in this direction at 3am on a cruise ship in the Baltic Sea, but I don’t know what I’m going to do with the degree. School administration was never really on my radar screen. School music? Yes. Church administration? Yes. School administration? No. And yet...
…
I saw a sign on the way to work this morning that said, “God just wants your ‘yes.’” I prayed aloud, “God, I’m saying ‘yes.’ I just don’t know what I’m saying yes to.” Then I silently continued, “Will you show me what I’m saying yes to—and how it is that I need to get there? My yes is and always has been to you, your call, and your desire for my life. My yes is to your love, peace, and justice, and I want to live in those—with integrity—but I need you to clearly show me how to make decisions that are fair, just, right, ethical, positive, and life-giving and I need you to give me the courage to make those decisions—for myself and for that which I have been called to lead—because I cannot do it alone. I’m really bad at it. Because I’m afraid of making the wrong decisions and I’m afraid that someone will get mad at me. Ugh. I don’t even like the words ‘right’ and ‘wrong.’ But you know what I mean.”
…
This afternoon, I had the unique experience of sitting with a student who needed to be separated from his class during Field Day. He is an extremely high functioning autistic student who can tell you more than you ever need to know about dinosaurs and sea animals, and the super-sensory experience of Field Day had finally gotten to be too much. After a brief lesson on dolphins vs. porpoises, my student asked if he could draw with the sidewalk chalk. The teacher who owned the sidewalk chalk said that that would be fine, so off went my kid. He drew gigantic animals over the entirety of the sidewalk, so avoiding the drawings was difficult for a seeing person—much less someone who is blind! But my kid didn’t care about that.
When Stacey-My-Blind-Friend-and-Teacher stopped to talk to a colleague and landed right in the middle of an animal, my kid politely interrupted her conversation with an excuse me, waited to be acknowledged, and then proceeded to stutteringly, matter-of-factly- but without eye-contact ask Stacey to move off of his drawing. He was not trying to be mean, rude, or inconsiderate. He didn’t worry how Stacey would respond. If she would have gotten mad, then he would have gotten mad, too. Plain and simple. That’s how things work. My student simply stated his truth and desires and trusted the receiver to respond. As it was, Stacey gladly moved and immediately began talking to the student about his drawings, so he immediately began to share information about his drawings—that she could not see and that he could not know she could never fully understand. The whole situation made me chuckle. But then I realized just what an example my student had been.
…
Despite my best efforts to stay in people’s good graces—I’m a recovering people-pleaser, remember—I have realized all too painfully that if someone decides that she does not like me, then she can easily piece together stories slamming my merits, no matter how hard I have tried to please her or how determinedly I have tried to do the best thing. I know this. I have experienced it. I just hope that when it happens again—because it will happen again—I can look up with the certainty of how I need to react and then act with that certainty, just as my student acted today. I hope that I can look up with the humility to say yes and then follow where that yes leads. And I hope that when my character is attacked and my decisions are questioned—as teacher, minister, family member, friend, customer, or yes, even, administrator—that I will be able to keep moving forward, offering hope, restoration, and redemption, one house—no—one person—and decision—at a time.
Monday, May 15, 2017
The Gift That Keeps On Giving
Well over a decade ago, I had a monthly mail-sending schedule. I wrote and sent out approximately 7 letters or cards per week, offering words of encouragement to various friends and family members each week—but contacting my grandmothers each week.
Because I was writing so much, my brother and sister-in-law decided to give me my own font for Christmas. They gave me the paperwork. I completed a hand-writing sample and sent it all in. To Sweden. A few weeks later, I received an e-mail with my very own font! It’s called Deanna’s Hand. I was thrilled. I’m still thrilled!
A few years ago, as I was window shopping in Blowing Rock, I suddenly stopped in my tracks. My handwriting was in the window!!! Toms, the shoe company, had chosen Deanna’s Hand for its handwriting font in one, small window cling campaign!!! Seeing my handwriting in the window for all of Blowing Rock to see prompted me figure out how Toms had gotten my font. Well. It’s a free download. Anyone can get it. Just do a search. You can get it, too…along with tons of other free fonts that people have created.
Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. I have a small classroom library that my students can access during class. I had the idea to create the library during one of our Book Fairs and started my collection with a 2-book donation from a parent. In the annual post-Christmas book sale at Books-A-Million, I grew the collection with a bunch of animal, dinosaur, and interesting fact books that kids love. Then, during a classroom library workshop at school, I grew the library even more with donations from the school.
A handful of students expectedly wandered to the library and happily read its books during class. My philosophy is that if the kids are reading, staying out of trouble, and not distracting other students, all the while subconsciously hearing the music lesson, then it’s a win-win for everyone. What I didn’t expect, however, was that that same handful of kids would want to take the books home. At first that was fine. But then classmates started to realize what was happening and they wanted to take books home, too.
So one Thursday afternoon while being bombarded with students wanting to take home books, I just said yes, yes, yes, so that they would stop asking! While one of those students stood with me to wait for the teacher, he first grossed me out by turning to a page on how a tribe in one part of Africa drinks cow’s blood during the drought season. I literally gagged and almost threw up, but then he turned the page and I gasped! MY FONT! My font was in the book! An entire two page spread was written in Deanna’s Hand!
I started babbling and trying to find the words to explain to the kids that it was a font that I had created but they didn’t quite understand and thought I meant that I had literally written out the pages but I was so excited that they were so excited so by the time the teacher got there we were all just in an excited state of font-appearance amazement!
I stayed that way for a few days. And clearly I am still excited. Not because I get paid. Not because I will be famous. But because it’s neat to see your handwriting in print…and to think that out of the fonts in the whole wide world, someone thought my font cool enough to use in a book.
When I wrote my brother and sister-in-law to tell them my exciting news, they were excited, too! I shared with the rest of my family, too. And then we all celebrated. And shared in thanksgiving for the gift that keeps on giving.
Because I was writing so much, my brother and sister-in-law decided to give me my own font for Christmas. They gave me the paperwork. I completed a hand-writing sample and sent it all in. To Sweden. A few weeks later, I received an e-mail with my very own font! It’s called Deanna’s Hand. I was thrilled. I’m still thrilled!
A few years ago, as I was window shopping in Blowing Rock, I suddenly stopped in my tracks. My handwriting was in the window!!! Toms, the shoe company, had chosen Deanna’s Hand for its handwriting font in one, small window cling campaign!!! Seeing my handwriting in the window for all of Blowing Rock to see prompted me figure out how Toms had gotten my font. Well. It’s a free download. Anyone can get it. Just do a search. You can get it, too…along with tons of other free fonts that people have created.
Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. I have a small classroom library that my students can access during class. I had the idea to create the library during one of our Book Fairs and started my collection with a 2-book donation from a parent. In the annual post-Christmas book sale at Books-A-Million, I grew the collection with a bunch of animal, dinosaur, and interesting fact books that kids love. Then, during a classroom library workshop at school, I grew the library even more with donations from the school.
A handful of students expectedly wandered to the library and happily read its books during class. My philosophy is that if the kids are reading, staying out of trouble, and not distracting other students, all the while subconsciously hearing the music lesson, then it’s a win-win for everyone. What I didn’t expect, however, was that that same handful of kids would want to take the books home. At first that was fine. But then classmates started to realize what was happening and they wanted to take books home, too.
So one Thursday afternoon while being bombarded with students wanting to take home books, I just said yes, yes, yes, so that they would stop asking! While one of those students stood with me to wait for the teacher, he first grossed me out by turning to a page on how a tribe in one part of Africa drinks cow’s blood during the drought season. I literally gagged and almost threw up, but then he turned the page and I gasped! MY FONT! My font was in the book! An entire two page spread was written in Deanna’s Hand!
I started babbling and trying to find the words to explain to the kids that it was a font that I had created but they didn’t quite understand and thought I meant that I had literally written out the pages but I was so excited that they were so excited so by the time the teacher got there we were all just in an excited state of font-appearance amazement!
I stayed that way for a few days. And clearly I am still excited. Not because I get paid. Not because I will be famous. But because it’s neat to see your handwriting in print…and to think that out of the fonts in the whole wide world, someone thought my font cool enough to use in a book.
When I wrote my brother and sister-in-law to tell them my exciting news, they were excited, too! I shared with the rest of my family, too. And then we all celebrated. And shared in thanksgiving for the gift that keeps on giving.
Monday, May 1, 2017
Love And Heartache In Between
In January, I had the privilege of officiating my second wedding. The wedding actually happened in two parts: Part one was a private ceremony at the hospital while part two was the public ceremony in an old church in Wilmington. At the time, the bride’s father was very sick and wasn’t able to attend his daughter’s wedding, so we took the wedding to him. Both parts of the wedding were beautiful, but the unplanned hospital ceremony was particularly special. It was one of those events that I will always feel humbled and honored to have been part of.
While waiting for that Saturday’s wedding festivities to begin, I went to an art gallery that carries Fabio Napoleoni’s work. [Fabio Napoleoni is my favorite artist.] While there, I was introduced to the art of Dr. Seuss for the first time. I didn’t know that Dr. Seuss artwork was a thing, but evidently it’s a pretty big thing. The gallery owner planted a seed of investment in my mind but that seed lay dormant until Read Across America Week. For that entire week and for the next week after, I thought and prayed and debated between two Seuss works but in the end decided not to get either piece until I could see them in person.
Last week, after a long, tough fight, my friend’s dad passed away. The funeral was Saturday. Because I was going to be in the area again, I decided to stop by the art gallery and look at those two pieces. I’m very glad that I did. In person, I didn’t like either piece. In a surprising twist, however, I found another piece that I really liked and ended up coming home with it. Even now, as I think about the piece, I smile…because I know that this was the piece for me. Will it end up being as great of an investment as the other two? I highly doubt it. But that doesn’t matter. Because it has meaning. I will include the image here so that you can find your own meaning:
The CD player in my car recently messed up. After 17 years of rotating between 6 CDs, I guess it just got tired. It’ll still play one CD, though, so I’ve been pulling random CDs out of my bag of CDs. One of the CDs was a Carolyn Arends CD and one of the songs on the CD sang out the lyrics, “Love and heartache and in between, Life is made up of little things.”
From the love shared in a wedding at the foot of a hospital bed to the heartache shared at a celebration of life, life is made up of little things—letters and writing and music and art and laughter and tears and shared meals and jeans days and talent shows and palindromes and sunsets and walks on the beach and challenges not to waste the time we’re given. May you, dear friends, celebrate your lives of little things and may none of us ever take for granted our moments with the people we love.
While waiting for that Saturday’s wedding festivities to begin, I went to an art gallery that carries Fabio Napoleoni’s work. [Fabio Napoleoni is my favorite artist.] While there, I was introduced to the art of Dr. Seuss for the first time. I didn’t know that Dr. Seuss artwork was a thing, but evidently it’s a pretty big thing. The gallery owner planted a seed of investment in my mind but that seed lay dormant until Read Across America Week. For that entire week and for the next week after, I thought and prayed and debated between two Seuss works but in the end decided not to get either piece until I could see them in person.
Last week, after a long, tough fight, my friend’s dad passed away. The funeral was Saturday. Because I was going to be in the area again, I decided to stop by the art gallery and look at those two pieces. I’m very glad that I did. In person, I didn’t like either piece. In a surprising twist, however, I found another piece that I really liked and ended up coming home with it. Even now, as I think about the piece, I smile…because I know that this was the piece for me. Will it end up being as great of an investment as the other two? I highly doubt it. But that doesn’t matter. Because it has meaning. I will include the image here so that you can find your own meaning:
The CD player in my car recently messed up. After 17 years of rotating between 6 CDs, I guess it just got tired. It’ll still play one CD, though, so I’ve been pulling random CDs out of my bag of CDs. One of the CDs was a Carolyn Arends CD and one of the songs on the CD sang out the lyrics, “Love and heartache and in between, Life is made up of little things.”
From the love shared in a wedding at the foot of a hospital bed to the heartache shared at a celebration of life, life is made up of little things—letters and writing and music and art and laughter and tears and shared meals and jeans days and talent shows and palindromes and sunsets and walks on the beach and challenges not to waste the time we’re given. May you, dear friends, celebrate your lives of little things and may none of us ever take for granted our moments with the people we love.
Monday, April 17, 2017
This Is The Educational Me
Well, folks. If for some odd reason you’ve ever wondered about the educational beliefs that drive me, wonder no more. Here they are...
But before I post, I must say this: I’ve spent a lot of time over the past couple of weeks hammering out this “Leadership Framework.” I completed the assignment for a graduate school class, but I found myself struggling to focus solely on my work in the schools because church life is so important to me. In fact, Christian Education was my focus during my years in divinity school. And that’s where the tension lies. When I was in divinity school, I struggled to focus solely on my work in church because school life is so important to me. In both graduate degree programs, I have found my heart split...and trying to apply my learning to more than just what the courses are supposed to prepare me for.
Several people have asked me recently what I plan to do when I finish my current graduate degree. I find myself honestly responding, “I have no idea. I know I’m supposed to be doing the program, but I have no idea what I’m going to do with the degree.” And I don’t. But I’m hashing out my passions and beliefs and praying that God will reveal the way. I’m not overly concerned. But I am glad to be finished with this assignment :-).
Philosophy of Education
I believe that education begins when we are born and ends when we die. Whether the learning is ours or the persons’ around us, and whether it is mental, physical, spiritual, or emotional, education is what happens each time we are exposed to something new and forced to do something with or about it. I believe that education is a process. It is continuous. It does not always begin and end with concept introduction, rather it is more often grown with time, intention, and experience. Education is formal in schools and churches. Education is informal in homes and relationships. I believe that education is trying, falling down, getting up, and trying again. Education is learning to walk and then acquiring the stamina to use the skill for good.
Philosophy of Leadership
I believe that leadership is the person or group of persons who lead whatever or whomever is being led. I believe that strong leadership is the person or persons willing to lead by humble, active example. I believe that leaders should lead with purpose and integrity, out of a sense of personal calling, and that leadership’s purpose should not be personal gain but organizational, group, and individual progress. I believe that strong leadership fosters success through relevant feedback, timely encouragement, wise decisions, difficult conversations, and a growth mindset for both itself and those being led. As a result, strong leadership creates thriving, healthy, positive, and growing organizations, groups, or individuals.
Vision for Learners
Learners learn in a variety of ways (musical-rhythmic, visual-spatial, verbal-linguistic, logical-mathematical, bodily-kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, naturalistic, and existential) and at varying speeds and will be given the time, space, and opportunity to do so. Furthermore, learners will gain relevant, practical skills and knowledge to help them live as healthy individuals who make positive contributions to society.
Vision for Teachers
Teachers are experts in educational and developmental theory, practice, and learning. Life-long learners themselves, teachers will be knowledgeable of their content area and how to relate it to learners’ lives. Teachers will enjoy working with students and peers and be both leaders and team players as needed to foster a positive, safe, and healthy learning environment.
Vision for the Organization
The educational organization makes formal education possible. The educational organization will:
• Provide not only a safe, well-maintained building and recreational space but also a safe, orderly learning environment;
• Seek to be sustainable and environmentally responsible whenever possible;
• Supply both the technological and non-technological tools needed for learning and make those tools available and accessible to students and teachers alike;
• Create a positive organizational culture and climate by planning and investing in ongoing community partnerships and promoting healthy lifestyles by providing physical and emotional support systems for students, parents, and teachers;
• Center all actions and activities on shared goals and values;
• Celebrate accomplishments both big and small.
Vision for the Professional Growth
Professional growth is the cornerstone for professional success. Professional growth will:
• Be ongoing and provide opportunities not only for strengthening content knowledge and work effectiveness but also for strengthening self-awareness and intra- and inter-personal communication and understanding;
• Be relevant and meaningful and lead to proactive change in thought and/or action;
• Be a combination of what all stakeholders need to know to be on the same page and what individual stakeholders desire to know to be stronger and more effective in areas identified as strengths and/or weaknesses;
• Occur in the regular work environment and at special trainings.
Method of Vision Attainment
Attaining any vision or goal takes time, determination, focus, and patience. Vision attainment is a journey filled with ups and downs, successes and failures, bumps and bruises, efficient pathways and unexpected detours, and long hours of listening and allowing others to help navigate and lead. I plan to attain my visions by bunkering down for the journey, enjoying the ride with whomever I meet along the way, and doing everything I can to leave the wake of my path better than it was before I walked it.
But before I post, I must say this: I’ve spent a lot of time over the past couple of weeks hammering out this “Leadership Framework.” I completed the assignment for a graduate school class, but I found myself struggling to focus solely on my work in the schools because church life is so important to me. In fact, Christian Education was my focus during my years in divinity school. And that’s where the tension lies. When I was in divinity school, I struggled to focus solely on my work in church because school life is so important to me. In both graduate degree programs, I have found my heart split...and trying to apply my learning to more than just what the courses are supposed to prepare me for.
Several people have asked me recently what I plan to do when I finish my current graduate degree. I find myself honestly responding, “I have no idea. I know I’m supposed to be doing the program, but I have no idea what I’m going to do with the degree.” And I don’t. But I’m hashing out my passions and beliefs and praying that God will reveal the way. I’m not overly concerned. But I am glad to be finished with this assignment :-).
Philosophy of Education
I believe that education begins when we are born and ends when we die. Whether the learning is ours or the persons’ around us, and whether it is mental, physical, spiritual, or emotional, education is what happens each time we are exposed to something new and forced to do something with or about it. I believe that education is a process. It is continuous. It does not always begin and end with concept introduction, rather it is more often grown with time, intention, and experience. Education is formal in schools and churches. Education is informal in homes and relationships. I believe that education is trying, falling down, getting up, and trying again. Education is learning to walk and then acquiring the stamina to use the skill for good.
Philosophy of Leadership
I believe that leadership is the person or group of persons who lead whatever or whomever is being led. I believe that strong leadership is the person or persons willing to lead by humble, active example. I believe that leaders should lead with purpose and integrity, out of a sense of personal calling, and that leadership’s purpose should not be personal gain but organizational, group, and individual progress. I believe that strong leadership fosters success through relevant feedback, timely encouragement, wise decisions, difficult conversations, and a growth mindset for both itself and those being led. As a result, strong leadership creates thriving, healthy, positive, and growing organizations, groups, or individuals.
Vision for Learners
Learners learn in a variety of ways (musical-rhythmic, visual-spatial, verbal-linguistic, logical-mathematical, bodily-kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, naturalistic, and existential) and at varying speeds and will be given the time, space, and opportunity to do so. Furthermore, learners will gain relevant, practical skills and knowledge to help them live as healthy individuals who make positive contributions to society.
Vision for Teachers
Teachers are experts in educational and developmental theory, practice, and learning. Life-long learners themselves, teachers will be knowledgeable of their content area and how to relate it to learners’ lives. Teachers will enjoy working with students and peers and be both leaders and team players as needed to foster a positive, safe, and healthy learning environment.
Vision for the Organization
The educational organization makes formal education possible. The educational organization will:
• Provide not only a safe, well-maintained building and recreational space but also a safe, orderly learning environment;
• Seek to be sustainable and environmentally responsible whenever possible;
• Supply both the technological and non-technological tools needed for learning and make those tools available and accessible to students and teachers alike;
• Create a positive organizational culture and climate by planning and investing in ongoing community partnerships and promoting healthy lifestyles by providing physical and emotional support systems for students, parents, and teachers;
• Center all actions and activities on shared goals and values;
• Celebrate accomplishments both big and small.
Vision for the Professional Growth
Professional growth is the cornerstone for professional success. Professional growth will:
• Be ongoing and provide opportunities not only for strengthening content knowledge and work effectiveness but also for strengthening self-awareness and intra- and inter-personal communication and understanding;
• Be relevant and meaningful and lead to proactive change in thought and/or action;
• Be a combination of what all stakeholders need to know to be on the same page and what individual stakeholders desire to know to be stronger and more effective in areas identified as strengths and/or weaknesses;
• Occur in the regular work environment and at special trainings.
Method of Vision Attainment
Attaining any vision or goal takes time, determination, focus, and patience. Vision attainment is a journey filled with ups and downs, successes and failures, bumps and bruises, efficient pathways and unexpected detours, and long hours of listening and allowing others to help navigate and lead. I plan to attain my visions by bunkering down for the journey, enjoying the ride with whomever I meet along the way, and doing everything I can to leave the wake of my path better than it was before I walked it.
Monday, April 3, 2017
Who Cares?
If you were at Antioch yesterday morning, then you heard a somewhat diverse set of music. We started with a modern praise song, led by the praise team, and then we went directly into a congregational rendition of “Victory in Jesus.” Next we moved to another congregational favorite of “Just A Closer Walk With Thee,” followed by a very unique, somewhat high church, full of intricate, sometimes dissonant harmonies, choral arrangement of “Abide With Me.” We ended with one verse of “Blest Be The Tie.”
While I was very pleased with the choir’s rendition of “Abide With Me”—it was tough and we had worked really hard to prepare it for worship—and while I always enjoy singing “Victory In Jesus”—after all, it was one of the title songs of my former band—and while the girls of the praise team did a good job introducing a new song—what really hit me yesterday was “Just A Closer Walk With Thee.”
As I was standing in the pulpit singing, I suddenly caught myself smiling and thinking, “Yes!! This!! I hope everyone in the congregation and the world is listening!! This is so important!! Did you hear it, people?! You just sang something HUGE!!”
And what was it that evoked double exclamation marks after every thought?
“Through this world of toil and snares,
If I falter, Lord, who cares?
Who with me my burden shares?
None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee.”
Did you catch that?! Really catch that?!
The world is full of toil and snares, speed-bumps and potholes, obstacles and heartaches, failures and heartbreaks, injustice and bigotry, judgment and condemnation, mean people and meaner people, and all kinds of other mayhem that will trip us up. With every feeling of safety. With every risk we take. With any attempt at anything at all, we run the risk of success or failure. And guess what? We’re going to mess up as many times as we get it right! We’re going to goof as many times as we reach near-perfection. We’re going to falter as many times as we experience clear-sailing! But…who cares?!
Really? Who cares?!
What does it matter?!
We’re still alive.
We’re still human.
We’re still able to move forward on life’s journey.
So who cares if we falter??
Really? Who cares?!
Because, in the end, the God who created us and loves us is the same God who never leaves or forsakes us—faltering or not. The same God who created the universe and offers redemption to the world is the same God who shares our heartaches and burdens—willingly surrendered or not.
I don’t know about you, friend, but this all makes me smile and sets a little part of me free.
While I was very pleased with the choir’s rendition of “Abide With Me”—it was tough and we had worked really hard to prepare it for worship—and while I always enjoy singing “Victory In Jesus”—after all, it was one of the title songs of my former band—and while the girls of the praise team did a good job introducing a new song—what really hit me yesterday was “Just A Closer Walk With Thee.”
As I was standing in the pulpit singing, I suddenly caught myself smiling and thinking, “Yes!! This!! I hope everyone in the congregation and the world is listening!! This is so important!! Did you hear it, people?! You just sang something HUGE!!”
And what was it that evoked double exclamation marks after every thought?
“Through this world of toil and snares,
If I falter, Lord, who cares?
Who with me my burden shares?
None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee.”
Did you catch that?! Really catch that?!
The world is full of toil and snares, speed-bumps and potholes, obstacles and heartaches, failures and heartbreaks, injustice and bigotry, judgment and condemnation, mean people and meaner people, and all kinds of other mayhem that will trip us up. With every feeling of safety. With every risk we take. With any attempt at anything at all, we run the risk of success or failure. And guess what? We’re going to mess up as many times as we get it right! We’re going to goof as many times as we reach near-perfection. We’re going to falter as many times as we experience clear-sailing! But…who cares?!
Really? Who cares?!
What does it matter?!
We’re still alive.
We’re still human.
We’re still able to move forward on life’s journey.
So who cares if we falter??
Really? Who cares?!
Because, in the end, the God who created us and loves us is the same God who never leaves or forsakes us—faltering or not. The same God who created the universe and offers redemption to the world is the same God who shares our heartaches and burdens—willingly surrendered or not.
I don’t know about you, friend, but this all makes me smile and sets a little part of me free.
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