Uz and Buzz Meet Jesus

Ok, so, if you saw my earlier post of my two new goldfish, you'll be distraught to know that both Uz and Buzz have found their final heavenly resting place. I'm pretty sure I did everything I could to keep them alive - pretty sure. But even so, they flailed and then, they floated. I should probably stick to Betta fish (a little more sturdy). I'm feeling like a failure!

This morning, I am sorting out nametags from one of our annual church events, Friend's Day. Each year, our congregation invites friends and neighbors to be a part of a fun service and a cookout afterwards. It's good times. And every year, no matter how much any of us detest it, we wear nametags to avoid the awkward moment where you forget the person's name who's been sitting by you every Sunday. (Though nametags I'm sure don't eliminate the awkward time for all of our guys where they stare at a women's chest trying to find out how to pronounce her name). I digress...

Things like this mark the passing of time to me. Traditions, the events or occasions that roll around every year and remind you of where you were last year at that precise moment. And, this year, sorting out these nametags was just a little emotional. I was laying aside names of people who have moved, transitioned, passed away... 

2009 was so full of change. Even grief. And I am so thankful for this brand new year God gave us. It marks a new season for me. One full of joy and expectation rather than loss and pain. I believe it was T.D. Jakes who preached about that idea that, in every moment of life you are either:  1) in a storm.  2) coming out of a storm. 3) going into a storm. And if we don't take time to enjoy the calm when we come out of a storm and before we enter another one, we miss times of sweet commune with Him. 

Right now, I am not in a storm. But I can look ahead of me and see possible storms. I can look behind me and grieve past hurts. And when I do, I create a storm in the middle of this calm and beauty. Right now, I am choosing to rest in Him and bask in the quiet, calm. 

c o l d

It's freezing in Florida today. Not even kidding. Ok, well, maybe not 32 degrees freezing. But 49 is close enough for me. 

I think about my family and friends in West Virginia. It's 17 degrees (though it feels like 4). And they're buried under about 2 feet of snow. (I bucked this picture above from my friend Erika's FB - if you haven't met her, you probably should make a point of it because she's absolutely incredible). 

I used to walk to our bus stop in that weather as a kid. A little cold, but not intolerable. And played all day in the snow on the weekends. Moving to Florida has changed things for me. And in so many ways. 

Isn't it funny how we adapt? How we become a part of where we are? Eight years ago, 55 degrees was a beautiful spring day worthy of a t-shirt and perhaps a light jacket. As it stands now, when our office temp drops below 72, I need a sweater on and a heater under my desk. Life has a way of beckoning us to fit our surroundings. And today, I'm reminded why it's so important with what and whom I choose to surround myself...

A Zipper in the Back of Your Dress

Just a few weeks ago, I hustled about my apartment on a Saturday morning, getting dressed and all primped up. This was a special morning, the morning I would graduate with my Master's degree. And my mom, dad and grandma had traveled all the way from Arizona to celebrate with me - because they're the best.

I had the perfect, I do repeat perfect dress for the occasion. And, as I slipped into and turned for my mom to zip me up, I had to laugh at how easy that was.

Since I've lived alone, some of the very simple things in life present themselves as obstacles: unlocking the door while balancing an excessive load from Wal Mart, assembling awkward furniture which requires a reader of instructions and a doer of said instructions, hanging pictures without someone to stand back and say, "left side a little lower," folding large sheets, the one-time emergency (because I'm much wiser, now) of being stranded without necessary paper in the bathroom. And definitely, most definitely, wearing any fabulous dress which zips from your backside to your neck.

Shopping has changed for me; I'm inclined to buy things that zip on the side. ("Little help here!" is not quite as effective if you must announce it after your arrive somewhere. And, come to think of it, neither is, "Does this look ok?" What do I expect someone to say, "No. Not at all. My God, Amanda, did you dress in the dark???" Thank GOD for camera phones - typically I can snap a pic and send it to a trusted wardrobe consultant.)

But, in terms of life and love, this battle of the zipper has lent itself to a couple, very practical lessons.

I'm now very cautious about getting myself into things that will be difficult to get out of.

I've learned there are some things that I can easily put on - airs and attitudes, pretenses and facades. And I can wear them with style in front of a crowd. They look beautiful when combined with the right heels and complimenting jewelry. They're palatable and pleasing to people who don't really know me. But they're not...me. And when I try to move and be who I am while wearing them, they constrict me. They contort my identity until I don't recognize myself. And when I try to take them off, it's a lot more difficult than putting them on.

When I walk in the door at night, I don't want the love of my life to look at me as if He doesn't recognize me. I don't want layers of people-pleasing to have to be removed before I can really commune with Him. In my life with Christ, I'm now reluctant to put on anything that I must come home and say, "Lord, please help me get undone..."

I want to be who I am in Him no matter where I may be. No matter who is asking for my attention. No matter what I feel I need to be in any situation. When I close the door behind me every evening, I want to be myself. Maybe more relaxed. Maybe able to say more than I can to anybody else. But I don't want to be wearing any pretenses for Him to help me out of. It's an idealistic goal, I'm aware. But I feel this may be what it means to be real...

Sara Groves says it way better than I could hope to:

Undone:
Baby, Can you help me get undone
The party is over
And their hearts were won
There’s a zipper in the back
But I can’t reach it on my own
And I am dying
To get out of this so...

Baby, Will you help me get undone
I don’t even remember
How I got this on
I started out pretending
Now I don’t recognize myself
And I could use a little help

You have no pretenses
All your walls are fences
I can see right through
You have no two faces
You know where our place is
And that's why I need you

Happy Birthday, Dear Harbour (enjoy the randomly interspersed pics)

Last night the leadership team of our young adults group sat around my table to celebrate two years together! It really does seem like half-a-hot-second ago when we sat around thinking about what we'd do if our church ever started a Young Adults Ministry. And here we are. That's a definite cause for celebration!

When I asked the team what they wanted to do, I expected a trip to the local tourist Mecca, Orlando. Or at least a night out in the hopping metropolis of Lakeland. Or even just dinner and a movie. But, of these riveting options, they chose to come cook dinner and sit in my tiny apartment. "Really? Well alright then. See you tomorrow at 6."

I love how they love each other. I love that they're comfortable together without the mindless distractions so many others need to relate.


My favorite part of the evening? We really didn't talk about church - at all. We laughed (most of the time with, but sometimes at each other). We ate. We shared secrets about our lives with God. There was a clandestine acknowledgment of the weight of our journeys' secrets. We all carry them. And here, in my little 600-sq.-foot apartment, we can let them out a little at a time and know that brothers and sisters will help...not hurt.


It has been incredible to watch each of us grow through these two years. In a generation that demands everyone "get real," I'm perhaps sinfully proud to say these guys are. Real. I thought about the things we've been through together that have brought us to this place: People coming and going. Hearts being broken and then put back together. The loss of loved ones. The anticipation of dreams fulfilled or once-in-a-lifetime love found. The genuine celebrations of life's biggest and "smallest" accomplishments. The struggle of putting adolescence to rest (sort of :) and embracing maturity. And I love that they've chosen to walk this path together. Nobody gets left behind.

Everyone should have friends like this...

A (not The) Revelation.

This a real moment of soul-baring. An authentic moment that I feel compelled to open the blinds of my life and let you into. 

I'm preparing for a sermon:  praying, reading, contemplating, studying. And, tonight, I feel very strongly what the Lord might say through me to His incredible people in this Young Adults group. He has taken a passage out of James and one out of Revelation and impressed them on my heart in such a way that I am begging Him to bring change and growth to my life and to the lives of these students. 

This post is not a sermon. (If you want to hear that, come to Garden Grove Church @ 7 pm on Thursdays ;). This is the behind the scenes. This is the tug-of-war I wonder if other pastors, those far more distinguished and brilliant than I, have waged. 

While I feel impressed so strongly in my personal time with the Lord of what I should say. And while I feel I have spent adequate time preparing for this evening (not just this week, but in the past 10 years). And while I'm confident heresy is far from my heart and my mouth. There is a heavy humility which always comes upon me before I deliver any message. And it's a gift - one that I must not mismanage and allow to become pride or self-degradation. I have, at times, allowed the heaviness of humility to sway me to either side, but I am learning the balance. The honor and privilege of being used of God coupled with the responsibility of getting it right. 

So, here's what's on my heart tonight. I don't know everything. In fact, I know closer to nothing than everything on the spectrum of knowing "things". So, what really qualifies me to speak this word with boldness and authority as I feel I should? Is it knowing the Bible better than anyone I'm speaking to? Certainly not. There are people in our general congregation who have served as senior pastors for a combined experience of over 100 years. Is it that I have a "special" revelation from God that no one else has? Most definitely not. There are students sitting in this group who have prophetic dreams and words of knowledge that knock my socks off. Is it that I paid tuition for undergraduate and master's degrees which qualify me? Hardly. 

It is simply this:  God looked out and said, "Here. This is my gift of work for you to do. Do it with all you have." And I answered with a shaky but ever-so-sincere, "Yes, Father." And here I sit. A pile of Bibles in front of me. A heart trembling to make sure the message is clear. Palms sweating because I want people to hear God and not me. And eyes constantly looking to the Lord asking, "Are you sure You want me?"

The answer is always the same. Sometimes quiet. Sometimes bold and strong. But always "yes". 

And His answer to you...is "yes". 

Why? Because, "You are God's workmanship. Created in Christ Jesus to do good works which God prepared in advance for you to do (Eph. 2:10)." He created you and then He gave you a perfectly fitting job description in His Kingdom. It's not a 9-5. It's a heartbeat. And He knows that you, just you, need to do that job. You need to. He doesn't need you. He chooses to "need" or use us. YOU need to do these good works.

 

You see, there is none righteous apart from God making us that way. There are none of us qualified enough. Beautiful enough. Strong enough. None. In Him all things were created and in Him all things hold together. He created works too big for us to do alone so He would have the good pleasure of doing them with us. I love working with Him...

So, just like Billy Graham, I tuck a Bible under my arm and walk to the front of a room. Eyes turn to look at me - but pierce through me, in search of God. And I open my mouth, trusting Him more with each breath and every syllable. I am not Billy Graham. I am not you. But I am me. And I am so thankful He has made me ok with that.

Now, back to the Word. 

-Amanda. 

i n s p i r a t i o n .

I'm sitting at my desk waiting for inspiration to strike. I love late nights. Everyone has gone home. The office is quiet. No phone calls. No questions. No demands. I sit barefoot at my desk and relish the fact that I have a job where my to-do list usually entices me. John Mayer serenades me as I try to conjure up some concept for a graphic design for one of our events. But mostly, I sit and watch the cursor blink. It's eager to move forward but I have trouble giving it direction. 

It seems like a lot of things in my life are standing in front of me asking, "What now?" And I'm staring into the white space with no response. I want greatness. I want God. And another moment of mediocrity seems so unpalatable to me I can hardly think on it. So, for once, rather than move forward without intention - I wait. Wait for that one-of-a-kind inspiration that says, "Follow Me here...you haven't passed this way before" (Joshua 3).

Don't we know how big God really is? How CREATIVE He is!? I really don't want to live

 the same day twice. I believe God has more. I am wide-eyed at the possibilities that every day holds. And I refuse the wet blanket of apathy that the day-to-day grind so badly wants to drape over my shoulders. God has more. For us. 

...those are the thoughts pervading my space tonight as I wait...for inspiration.

-amanda. 

OH - and I can't forget these guys. Now, when I walk into my apartment...there's always someone waiting on me. It's kind of a long story. But, let it suffice to say:  wherever you are, whatever's going on, God sees you. He sees your heart. And He cares. 

Say hello to Uz and Buzz...

The Bagel Miracle

Yesterday morning was one of "those" mornings. I'm so glad the Lord has taught me how to take it in stride, because now...it's pretty funny, I'm not gonna lie. The first event, which I'll forever be puzzled by, was the trash being picked up outside of my apartment. Apparently, it is picked up by a blazing space-shuttle which blows through the atmosphere and shakes my building. Outside my window. At 4:30 in the morning. Beautiful. So, I was startled awake (thinking maybe I needed to get some last minute things in before the rapture) and had a little trouble going back to sleep. 

Then, when my alarm went off two hours later, I ignored it and overslept. Woke up, twenty minutes before I was supposed to be sitting in my office chair checking voicemails, and made a wild run for it! 

And, since I hear my mother in the back of my head expressing the necessity of breakfast, I threw a bagel in the toaster and then ran to get dressed. Fifteen minutes later, sitting at my desk, I got really hungry. "Maaaaaan. I forgot my bagel. That stinks." Well, when I walked in the door at 5:30, I saw God's goodness right before my eyes. The bagel had never "popped" up in the toaster but, somehow, hadn't even burned (not to mention the apartment building was still in place and no one had to call the fire department). 

But, the real event of Monday was the fact that I have Monday evenings off. Which I really used to enjoy. But now, something has changed. And a night off, with no one in the house but me, is a challenge. The Lord has whispered to my heart and I have been compelled to find out:

- just how much of my life He can possibly fill? -

There's no cable TV in my house. No pets. No one to cook dinner for (unless I want to astonish myself with my culinary skills occasionally). Literally - me and Jesus. Alllllll night long. And these have become the sweetest evenings I could ever ask for. I see people enjoying marriages. Doting over beautiful babies. And sometimes, there's a tinge of sorrow in my heart. And a thought that I have to battle: "It wasn't supposed to be this way." 

But, maybe it was. As God draws me, invites me into His presence, part of what I know deep in my soul is that I would have never had this sweet time with Him if life had continued as "planned". This sort of rest area, along the highway, has provided for moments of romance between us and hours of conversation that I think I'll look back on with jealousy as some sticky-jam-handed toddler is pulling on my sweat pants. 

Today, as you talk to Jesus through these precious minutes and hours, thank Him for the moment you're living. Thank Him for the plan for this particular season. Whatever it is, it's full of purpose and meaning and His love.