Grace Covers Me

For Me

2012-02-08T09:30:00.001-05:00

As I share my "Story of Sifting" with Exponential today (Join me there?), I'm remembering the lessons of humility and dependence that have been learned and re-learned and re-learned again through church planting. I thought this calling was for "them", but it really was for me. I'm remembering this...

"Helen," he said quietly, looking straight ahead between the walls of elephant grass and over the central grass-tufted mound of the dirt-track road, "if you think you have come to the mission field because you are a little better than others, because you have more to offer through your medical training, or--" There was nothing censorious in his tone, yet his words cut deep into my heart. Was that the appearance that I had given to others, of a spiritual superiority, that I knew all the answers and would show them how the job should be done? Had I been so busy tackling the needs of the bodies of those who came for help, that I had little or no time, and no inclination to make time, for fellowship with other members of the team? Did I subconsciously feel that my service to the community through medicine would bring more people to the Savior than these others had done by years of patient trekking and preaching?

A wave of shame and a sense of failure came over me. I tried not to reply, as a sense of self-pity made itself felt. Why did they misunderstand me? Why did no one appreciate how much I needed fellowship and support? No one offered to help me, or relieve me on night duty. The "pity-poor-little-me" syndrome started early in my missionary career.

"Remember," Jack concluded, "the Lord has only one main purpose ultimately in each of our lives, that is to make us more like our Lord Jesus."

As we talked over the implications of what he was saying, he suggested to me that the next thing God wanted to do in my life to make me more like Jesus, He could not do for me back in Britain, as I was too stubborn and wilful: so He had brought me to Africa, to work in me through Africans.

Another voice spoke quite clearly: "to make you realize and face up to this 'pity-poor-little-me' attitude and become real," and I turned my head away.

It all seemed such revolutionary teaching. So simple and childlike, it was nevertheless so profound and deeply disturbing. It put all "missionary" work into a new perspective and made me feel very small.

--from Living Sacrifice by Helen Roseveare

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The Everyday Question

2012-02-06T09:59:00.000-05:00

In ministry, there is a constant, uncomfortable battle that rages inside of me. It is not the big or dramatic: Will I Go? Will I follow God's call? Does my life--my marriage, my children, my ministry, my writing--belong to Him? The big stuff was settled a long time ago.

The constant ministry battle is more subtle, more everyday, more hideable. At the center is one question: Will I sacrifice? Or as Oswald Chambers says in My Utmost for His Highest: "{Am I} willing to spend and be spent; not seeking to be ministered unto, but to minister?"

This is the question that isn't answered one time, upon entry into seminary or upon acceptance of a ministry position. This is the question that is answered everyday, every Sunday, every time I put my back to the plow, every time someone comes with a concern, every time something is required of me. It's a question of sacrifice: will I or won't I? Will I pour out my life as a fragrant offering before the Lord for the benefit of others? Or will I seek to have my own needs met, seek what's comfortable, pursue appreciation, or seek attention? Am I in this for God to use me or for me to use God?

Because ministry is not so much the big, dramatic acts of sacrifice, but the little, everyday, unseen ones.
Because we can be in ministry and not sacrifice.
Because we can do all manner of ministry activities and never be a living sacrifice, poured out for the benefit of others.
Because we are so easily deceived to think we can live for ourselves and be faithful to God.

This is the life God has for me, this crazy ministry life that is so rewarding and difficult at the same time. Honestly, I didn't have much say about it. God made it clear and then He confirmed it by giving me this man to marry. Like I said, those things were settled a long time ago.

But I do have a choice in the everyday things. Will I die so that God can live this life through me? Will I deny myself so that I am available for others? Will I look for people to bless me or look for ways to bless others? Will I serve out of obligation and duty or will I serve people like I'm serving God Himself?

Because out of self-death springs fruit that only grows with the power of God.

For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal bodies. 2 Corinthians 4:11

For the love of Christ compels us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died, and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised. 2 Corinthians 5:14-15

What Happens When God Says Go

2012-02-02T10:36:00.001-05:00

Standing among a throng of worshippers, I am overcome. How did I get here? How did they get here? How did this happen?

A moment ago, it seems, we lived a different life in a different place. Then, God stirred up in us a crazy idea, almost too crazy to believe. Go, He said. In the spirit of Abraham and Sarah, pack it up, pack it in, and Go.

We had more questions than answers, but each step forward we took, attempting to discern and clarify what Go meant for us, He answered.

Us? Are you sure? Yes, start a church and ask others to go with you.
Where? Charlottesville, Virginia
That's crazy. Are you sure? Yes, I'm sure.
Why? I have plans for you and your family there: to grow and change you, to use you to carry out a vision there, to bless you, to show you what faith is.
Are you absolutely sure? How? Child, walk by faith, not by sight and you will really see.

Among the throng, I am overcome with the clarity of God with us.

How did I get here? Because of God. Because He has infinitely greater plans and gifts for me than I could ever imagine.
How did they get here? God brought us together in all manner of ways and from all backgrounds and all walks of life. He formed us from dust into a living, breathing work of art. I thought He brought me here for them, but He really brought them for me, to mold and love and sharpen me.
How did this happen? None of it is logical, none of it explainable. Sure, we have put our back to the plow, but God--only God--could have knitted hearts together in community, redeemed us, changed us, grown us.

Listening to the worshippers, my heart wells up in thanksgiving. The foreign has become familiar, the place has become a people, the land has become loved. I have tasted the fruit of faith and it is sweet. I have tasted God and, in this moment of clarity at what He has done, I am delighted in Him. He has shown me how to walk by faith and not by sight, how to really see.

--
There were those who dipped their toes in the water of faith before us and encouraged us to Come on in! The water's great! My purpose in writing today is to share the gratefulness I feel toward the Lord because of His faithfulness, but I also hope to, like those before me, turn around and encourage others who are feeling the call of God to Go. (Should we not all in some way be hearing this?) Where is God calling you to Go? Friend, come on in! The water's great!

Good Gifts

2012-02-01T01:00:00.000-05:00

Remembering this today, still just as true as when I originally wrote it...

I like to think. I need time to think or I go a little batty.

Good ideas or interesting thoughts flood my mind in the shower, or when I'm driving my kids to school, or when I'm blowdrying my hair. My best ideas, however, come at night as I'm trying to fall asleep. On good idea nights, I keep myself awake for hours trying to remember them or chasing little what-if rabbit trails. My best ideas come then, it seems, because I am free from reality and unmoved by fear.

Then, in the morning, I chain myself to reality once again. I talk myself out of my great idea or my bold move. I list all the reasons why not and dash my own surely-they-are-silly dreams to shreds.

Then I go do the laundry. Always the laundry.

But last night, in the final moments of awake, I thought about God holding a Mason jar with my name on it. The jar is full of little puffy, polyester hearts, each heart representing things I hope for or wish to be.

Some of them remain from when I was little, scrunched at the bottom of the jar: thoughts of being an astronaut or Miss America.

Some of the hearts are big and bursting. They are the realized dreams: a husband, children, a full ministry, great life experiences. Better than I imagined.

Some I did not put in there myself, but He lovingly chose for me: the surprising gift of a child with special needs, a knowledge of loss, a life-altering change in ministry. He enlarged the scope of my dreams.

There are the unrealized hopes. The little hearts waiting in the jar, those I take out, handle, and rearrange at the top of the jar so He won't forget. What does He think about those, I wonder?

Oh, I see, He whispers.

He points to one and says, Not yet, child. But I see him watching it carefully like fruit needing to ripen.

He reaches into the jar and takes out a heart, turning it over in His hand. It's a silly little heart that I gave Him long ago, around the same time I let Him have the jar. I'm surprised He remembered it and how much it meant to me. I thought it was destined for the bottom of the jar with the astronaut heart.

Silly.

Childish.

He places it in my hand. A God who sees. A Father who delights in giving good gifts to His children.

Remember? Now's the time. Don't be afraid. Go. Create. Pursue.

It's going to be alot better than you imagined.

"He is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think." Ephesians 3:20

Mommy Guilt

2012-01-30T17:01:00.002-05:00

When it comes to rearing a child, there is no formula. No one right way. No vending machine that pops out a model child. No amount of books or step-by-step instructions that guarantees parenting success.

I'm glad to come back to this realization after a few months of uncharacteristic uncertainty about how I mother. More accurately, I've spent a few months going crazy in Mommy Guilt Land, struck by an irrational fear that I'm doing it all wrong. While on the outside I have been smiling serenely, in my head, I have been running around like a savage screaming (at myself), "I'm surely ruining my babies for life!"

When I sit down to describe my layover in Mommy Guilt Land to my husband (who dwells only in Rational, Logical Man-Land), I can't do it. There is nothing specific to grasp onto, nothing to illustrate why I feel the way I do, just a heavy gray cloud hanging over everything, constantly releasing a whisper-like mist of failure and fear and doubt.

He listens as I grasp for formulas and certainty. If I do this specific thing it will guarantee our children to be godly, safe, happy, protected, and successful.

He listens as I compare myself with other mothers and the choices they've made. Though I try to hide it, he surely hears the insecurity in my words and the sinful interest in what they think of my choices, what they think of me.

He speaks blessing but my heart cannot hear it. Not yet.

In all this, I tell him, I have begged for God to speak to me. Nothing else but God's voice will drive away the uncertainty, that I am certain about. Yet He has been silent.

At this point, the tears flow freely, realizing that God is silent because I am away from Him. He doesn't dwell in Mommy Guilt Land. He doesn't speak in whisper-like mists of failure and fear and doubt. He doesn't ask me to mother according to lists or formulas. I am dwelling in opposition to Him, trying, as usual, to figure things out on my own.

In this realization, He finally speaks. By My Spirit, child, not by works. Depend on me day-by-day (sometimes minute-by-minute) and I will lead you as you lead them. Walk with Me and I will direct your paths. I will show you the way to go.

In this truth, there is also His grace. I have temporarily abandoned Him in pursuit of self-satisfaction and the approval of others, yet He receives me back. The mist of failure and fear and doubt has stopped.

It is raining truth and grace.

___

The following verses were instrumental in my exit from Mommy Guilt Land. I hope they are helpful to you as well.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us...., full of grace and truth. John 1:14

For the law was given through Moses, but grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. John 1:17

{God speaks. We recognize His voice because it is one of grace and truth. He speaks specifically and in a way that leads to hope and freedom.}

Let not mercy and truth forsake you;

Bind them around your neck,

Write them on the tablet of your heart,

And so find favor and high esteem

In the sight of God and man.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

And lean not on your own understanding;

In all your ways acknowledge Him

And He shall direct your paths.

Proverbs 3:3-6

Rest for the Weary

2012-01-26T08:33:00.000-05:00

We live in a loud world. My life--like yours-- is overloaded with activities, appointments, to-do lists, and meetings. It's exhausting, this constant commotion. Despite the exhaustion, silence and stillness often make me uncomfortable, like I'm a caged animal or, worse, lazy.

The lies, too, come in the silence and stillness. Lies that tell me activity is spiritual, that movement is communion. That tasks bring life.
You are not doing enough.
You are alone. Everyone else is together.
This is a waste of precious time.
People who matter are busy doing important things.

My flesh runs from silence and stillness, yet it's most what I need. When I sit in silence with my discomfort, letting my heart and mind settle, and after I wade through the lies, I find life that no amount of interaction, activity, or even mind-numbing entertainment can bring.

God is always in the silence, waiting there to be heard and enjoyed. If I will just listen.

Whoever will listen will hear the speaking Heaven. This is definitely not the hour when men take kindly to an exhortation to listen, for listening is not today a part of popular religion. We are at the opposite end of the pole from there. Religion has accepted the monstrous heresy that noise, size, activity, and bluster make a man dear to God. But we may take heart. To a people caught in the tempest of the last great conflict God says, “Be still and know that I am God,” and still He says it, as if He means to tell us that our strength and safety lie not in noise but in silence.

It is important that we get still to wait on God. And it is best that we get alone, preferably with our Bible outspread before us. Then if we will we may draw near to God and begin to hear Him speak to us in our hearts. I think for the average person the progression will be something like this: First a sound as of a Presence walking in the garden. Then a voice, more intelligible, but still far from clear. Then the happy moment when the Spirit begins to illuminate the Scriptures, and that which had been only a sound, or at best a voice, now becomes an intelligible word, warm and intimate and clear as the word of a dear friend. Then will come light and life, and best of all, ability to see and rest in and embrace Jesus Christ as Saviour and Lord of all.--A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God

Life is in the silence because God is there. If we will just listen.

Do silence and stillness scare you? How do you practice listening for God's voice?

Interview with Amanda Jones:: Part Two:: Criticism & Pressure

2012-01-23T01:00:00.000-05:00

Did you read Part One of my interview with Amanda Jones, a church planting wife in Houston? I love how she captured the thrill of being smack-dab in the middle of God's calling on our lives: "We {are} way out on a limb with God, but the view of His faithfulness {is} spectacular!" No matter our calling, that definitely sums up a life of faith.

Today, my interview with Amanda continues with questions concerning the intense pressures associated with church planting and her thoughts on growing up as the daughter of a popular Christian leader.

It seems that criticism about our loved ones and personal wounds come with the ministry territory. How do you make sure bitterness doesn’t take root in your heart over that kind of stuff?
God has given me a lot of grace in this area because being overly sensitive is deﬁnitely one of my weaknesses. Since we launched the church I can tell that He has supernaturally strengthened my heart. Curtis also protects me from knowing every little painful thing and I’ve learned to let him.

There is a ton of pressure associated with church planting. How do you help ease the pressure Curtis might feel? How does he help ease any pressure you might feel?
I remember one particularly crushing day last spring when the pressure was extremely intense. I told Curtis I didn’t want to talk to anybody outside of our family and I sent him out to rent a movie while I ordered enough pizza to feed a small army. Now pizza and a movie aren’t necessarily bad, but in that case we were bypassing Jesus and taking taking our broken, stressed out hearts straight to food and entertainment. Not good!

I think the best way we’ve learned to ease the pressure for each other is to pray together. We aren’t always good about keeping up that habit when we don’t feel stressed and that’s something we need to work on.

{Amanda's mom is author and Bible teacher, Beth Moore.} A lot of people have preconceived ideas about well-known Christian leaders. What do you wish people knew about your mom’s day-to-day life? What do you wish people knew about you and your family?
I think the hardest place to walk out your faith can be in your own home with your spouse and children. That’s where we let our guard down and show our most authentic selves. I don’t say this to defend my mother, because I feel no need to, but rather to honor her: she loves, believes and serves Jesus more than anyone I know. Jesus is her everything. I suppose a lot of ministry kids and spouses feel torn between what they see and hear from their loved ones on stage and what they see and hear from them at home. It’s so beautiful that my dad, sister and I have seen the ins and outs of my mom’s life and ministry from up close and we are absolutely her biggest cheerleaders.

Thank you, Amanda! We appreciate your faithfulness to Christ in Houston and your insight concerning church planting. Readers, you can find Amanda on her blog, the blog she shares with her mom and sister, and on Twitter.

An Interview with Amanda Jones:: The First Year of Church Planting

2012-01-19T09:50:00.002-05:00

In our first year of church planting, I wondered if what we were experiencing--the exhaustion, the doubt, the discouragement, the feeling of pushing an unruly boulder up a really tall mountain, the exhilaration of wild faith--was typical. In hindsight, I recognize that it's pretty typical, that God usually uses the first year of church planting to break us of our self-sufficiency , which I recently wrote about:

The beginning stages of church planting feels like everything in life hangs in the balance. Will the church make it? What happens if it doesn't? Are we completely insane? Can God be trusted? What is our Plan B? Should we have a Plan B?

My husband and I spent many sleepless nights trying to concretely answer those questions, but in the end, all we had was either faith or flailing despair. Sadly, I often chose despair.

Looking back, I realize that those days of despair were really withdrawals. All of my life, I had depended on myself, controlled circumstances (or at least tried), and avoided any ministry outside what I was comfortable with. I also had always had a people buffer: people to lead, people to disciple, people to encourage me or validate my ministry. But like a soul tsunami, church planting completely and swiftly wiped out all my self-made security. For perhaps the very first time, I had an opportunity to believe God and to live from faith.

Many of you are in your first year of church planting, trying to find your footing. Perhaps you can relate to my first-year struggles. I found it helpful in those days to compare notes with other church planting wives, if for no other reason to know that there are sisters out there working toward the same end of seeing Jesus proclaimed.

Amanda Jones is one of those church planting wives. She and her husband Curtis launched Bayou City Fellowship in Houston on September 11, 2011. I asked her to share about their first few months of planting. On Monday, she will share about the pressures of church planting and dealing with criticism. My prayer is that you'll be encouraged through her words.

What are you learning about yourself and the Lord in this ﬁrst year of planting?
I’m learning more and more that God is trustworthy and faithful. I kept a journal during 2011 to record the ways God answered our prayers and showed us His power. It was impossible to keep track of all the things He did - there were so many! We were way out on a limb with God, but the view of His faithfulness was spectacular.

What I’m learning about myself is that I’m absolutely desperate for God’s grace! Still! I don’t have what it takes to be a pastor’s wife. And I certainly don’t deserve to be one. The ﬁrst time I read your blog, I wondered why you had titled it “Grace Covers Me” because it didn’t scream “church planting” to me. About ﬁve minutes into our launch I understood. I’m desperate for His grace every single second of the day.

You are planting in your hometown, perhaps even trying to reach people that you’ve known for a long time. Your physical surroundings haven’t changed, but how has your perspective changed regarding your city? What are the joys and difficulties of planting in your hometown?
My perspective has changed in that I feel less like the city is here for the good of my family and more like my family is here for the good of the city. I’m very aware that everything I do outside of my home is an opportunity to share the Gospel in word and in deed. (And really, that goes for inside the home too.)

We have deﬁnitely seen advantages and disadvantages to planting in our hometown. On one hand, we know the city well and have a lot of support here. My family’s support has been absolutely incredible. It’s been a gift to get to work together to build the church. Recently while Curtis was preaching, I got to serve with my mom, sister and brother-in-law in the kids ministry. How often does that happen? We had so much fun. Their involvement has been a huge blessing. We have always been a close family, but this experience has deﬁnitely strengthened our bonds.

Curtis and I spent a few months serving in England and then the next three years serving in Irving, Texas, so I do not take it for granted that we’re getting to do this in my hometown. My husband is actually from Springﬁeld, Missouri, so his perspective on this would be a little different from mine.

On the other hand, since we already have a lot of relationships in place here in Houston, we have to get over ourselves and not be offended if everyone we invite to church doesn’t jump on board. We can’t take it personally if a friend doesn’t accept our invitation to come to church. And if they do come, we can’t be bitter if they don’t decide to join us. That would be miserable.

I think the hardest part of this journey was when we were sharing our vision for BCF with friends in an effort to put together our core team. Waiting to see who God was calling to join us or not was difficult. It was a very raw, vulnerable, and emotionally charged time. I’m glad to be done with that season and thankful that Jesus got us through it! Ultimately, the Lord crafted an incredible core team that has blown us away with their faith and hard work. He knew exactly what He was doing when He called each one.

In our ﬁrst year, we experienced a lot of spiritual warfare. Has that been the case for you and Curtis? How have you recognized it and how have you responded?
Oh my, yes. Nothing could have prepared us for the spiritual warfare we have experienced. My husband has very little fear, almost to a fault. But at this time last year he was afraid to fall asleep at night because he had an overwhelming dread of waking up blind and deaf. And his dreams always had a snake in them. For months the enemy also attacked me with very destructive dreams. His tactics weren’t hard to recognize, but they were hard to endure. We ﬁnally started speaking up about it and a lot of people prayed for us. Right after our launch, some couples on our core team took shifts praying for us throughout the night so that we could get some rest. We didn’t know about it until the next morning, but their prayers worked. For now, God has brought that particularly intense battle to an end.

You can find Amanda on Twitter, on her blog, or on the blog she contributes to with her mom and her sister. You can read the second part of the interview here.

Note to Self

2012-01-17T13:57:00.003-05:00

A few months into my husband's first ministry position, one of the other staff wives from our church dropped by my house for coffee. I was a 24-year-old college pastor's wife with very little ministry (and life) experience and a whole lot of questions. She, on the other hand, had years of experience in marriage, motherhood, and ministry. As soon as she entered my home, I wanted to shake her and say, "Spill the beans!" Or more accurately, "HELP ME!" Being new to marriage and ministry, I felt so young, so inexperienced, and so very vulnerable.

We talked about scrapbooking, of all things.

I waited for her to ask all the right questions so I could reveal that I was flailing, drowning, and overwhelmed. I wanted to tell her that I was trying so hard, trying to fill up this role I found myself in, trying to keep it together, trying to figure it all out as if it was one big math problem. With my eyes, I pleaded with her to offer her wisdom, to rescue me from my isolation.

But we talked about scrapbooking.

I didn't ask her for help. I could have. I should have, but I didn't because I felt so certain that I was the only one in the history of ministry that was struggling.

And she didn't offer, although now, in hindsight, I realize that by coming by, she was trying to reach out to me. But she left with a gulf of unspoken words between us.

As soon as she left, the opportunity gone, I wished I had spilled my own beans, of how I felt, what was weighing on me, and how much I needed encouragement. But I continued on in my fog of inexperience.

If I could go back to that day and sit with my younger self over coffee, I would tell her many things.

I would tell her to cling to God, for the enemy really is prowling around looking for someone, preferably one of influence, to devour. I would tell her to love people and quit worrying about trying to impress them. I would tell her to take every opportunity to be open and vulnerable instead of maintaining an image of a good minister’s wife. I would tell her to ask for help. And I would tell her about grace.

Then, I would open my Bible, take her hand, look her in the eye, and earnestly plead for her to heed every detail of 1 Timothy 4, Paul’s advice to young ministers:

Nourish yourself in doctrine, the foundational truths about God and His gospel. You will feel the pull to know more about more things or to be super-spiritual, but the truly spiritual are well-versed and well-applied in the fundamentals.
Nourish yourself in words of faith. Give yourself to the Word. Read books and spend time with people that spur you forward in faith.
Take heed to yourself. Keep careful watch over your heart, your marriage, and your desires.
Labor and strive in the ministry with your eyes on God (not on other people). Ministry will be difficult sometimes, you can count on it, but look to God for your strength, motivation, and joy.
Don't let your youth equal immaturity. You can still set an example for others in conversation, behavior, love, dependence on the Spirit, trust in God, and purity of mind and body.
Don't neglect the gift that is in you. Know it, learn it, cultivate it, use it.
Instruct your sisters in these things, both with truth and with grace.
Above all, exercise yourself toward godliness. Submit to the Lord and He will grow you into the woman, wife, mother, and minister that you hope to be.

She might have dismissed me: Those words are for my husband, not me. I am just a minister’s wife. I would have been adamant with her: No! Don’t miss this opportunity! Being a minister’s wife is like living in a greenhouse— you can either suffocate and wilt from the heat or grow healthy and strong in it. It’s also an opportunity of influence—you can be a voice speaking God’s truth and grace over others or just a voice muted by selfishness and resentment.

Sitting with her, my younger self might think I have it down now, that, with my experience, I have figured it all out. She might think I'm free of struggle or frustration. She would be wrong. I am still working out Paul's instructions in 1 Timothy; I still have so far to go.

But I am thankful for the opportunity.

What would you have said to your younger self when you were just getting started in ministry? If you’re not a ministry wife, what would you have said to your younger self about life or marriage or motherhood?

Saying Grace in the Winter Woods

2012-01-16T06:00:00.000-05:00

"You say grace before meals.

All right.

But I say grace before the play and the opera,

And grace before the concert and pantomime,

And grace before I open a book,

And grace before sketching, painting,

Swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing;

And grace before I dip the pen in the ink."

G.K. Chesterton, from an early notebook, mid-1890's

And I say grace, I would add, while walking in the woods of Virginia with my loves on an unseasonably warm winter day.

Where are you seeing God's grace in your life right now?

When Ministry Brings Wounds

2012-01-13T13:31:00.003-05:00

We once got an anonymous letter in the mail that said: Dear Kyle & Christine, You suck. Or something to that effect. I read it once, showed it to my husband, tried unsuccessfully to figure out who sent it, and then tore it into tiny pieces and threw it away. Otherwise, I would have memorized and stewed on every word.

I handled that one a lot better than the first one we received. The first one, another typed, anonymous letter, informed my husband that he prayed in public wrong and schooled him in how best to do it. I read that one several times, studying the words carefully, ingesting them into my soul. The next time I went to church, I looked at every person and wondered if they had written the note, if they were the ones evaluating and judging everything we did. That letter, coming so early in our ministry, rattled me, causing me to shrink back a little in what God had called me to do.

In life, all of us have those silent offenses and still-sensitive wounds that threaten our joy and productivity and breed cynicism and emotional walls. I dare say it's ten times harder in ministry. From where I stand as a pastor's wife, this is a make-it or break-it all kind of issue; churches and ministry families rise and fall based on how the pastor and the pastor's wife handle the inevitable wounds that come along in ministry. I was reminded of this recently by comments from two women in ministry:

Angel said, "I loved what Jen had to say (in this interview), although I do experience loneliness in hearing and caring for people, and not talking about it with others sometimes makes me feel isolated."

Beth Moore said on Twitter: "Some of you mentioned this AM the story about the man in the airport years ago whose hair I brushed...Wanna know something? If it had happened today, I pray I would still have done it, but I never would have told it, or at least the same way. I was totally naive. I had no idea that if you felt God had spoken something specific to you, you'd be labeled a mystic. I'm more afraid to tell things now. It hasn't shut me down from telling things. I just tell them scared. And maybe with greater attention to the words I'm using...Some said, 'Why be scared?' Because...IT IS SCARY OUT THERE!! Pray for those out in the thick of it. Your teachers, pastors, & leaders. They get hit constantly and misunderstood."

These women express two things common to ministry: loneliness and criticism. Often, they go hand-in-hand as ministry wives must privately process criticism. Sometimes we even still have to interact (nicely) with people who have offended or hurt us or who continually complain about our husbands.

So what to do?

I find it helpful to categorize wounds/criticism/complaints/"helpful" suggestions and respond accordingly.

There are the silly nicks or surface wounds, the stuff like those anonymous notes from fringe people. My response: figuratively (or maybe literally) roll my eyes and move on. Tear up the note. Turn off the unhealthy thoughts. Give a very limited audience to the constant complainer who only speaks from their own wounds.

Then there are the cuts that draw a little blood, but heal quickly. Enjoyable, loving, gifted people leave the church. An invitation doesn't come. Someone offhandedly takes a jab at the church or at the hubby. People just want stuff, but don't want a relationship. My response: sometimes I go to my husband for perspective and sometimes I go to friends outside the church. Mostly, I try to see the hurts that aren't outright criticism as God's protection. An invitation didn't come? Then God is freeing up time for something better, like rest or family time. With criticism, I have to remind myself that 1) I am not responsible for the church 2) we're never going to make everyone happy and 3) church isn't about making people happy. Move on.

There are the wounds that are needed and good, the "wounds of a friend". Most people are afraid to approach a leader, thus the anonymous letters in the mail. But when someone comes to us face-to-face in love and genuine concern, we are wise to receive and process what they have to say.

Then there are the wounds that cut so close to the heart that we think we might not make it. Or the ones that come from behind like a stab in the back. These hurt the most because they're personal and we don't usually see them coming. These wounds are deep and take a really long time to heal. Like years. I've had a few of those in our 12 years of ministry and, let me tell you, they were difficult to get past and they negatively affected my ministry until I did. It was not until I stopped replaying the offenses, confessed my own part of the problem (even if it was just in my heart), forgave each time it came up in my head (which was alot and for a while), and trusted the Lord to deal with the offense in His time and His way, that the wound healed.

We have to deal with our wounds, otherwise bitterness takes root, grows, and chokes the life out of us. They keep us from fulfilling our calling.

We can't always share our wounds, but God knows them intimately. He knows them intimately and He heals them intimately. He knows who writes anonymous notes and He deals with it. Ultimately, we can't protect ourselves from nicks, cuts, and wounds, but we can trust Him when they come. After all, we're doing all this for Him anyway. We must choose to care more about His will and His pleasure than what anyone does or does not say to us or about us. Easier said than done, but it's the only way out of our bitterness, our fear of man, and our wounds that "won't" heal.

Question: Have you ever had someone basically tell you that you suck? How have you handled those wounds?

I'm also happy to announce the winners of Jen Hatmaker's book, Seven. They are Jamie Lockhart, who "liked" the blog on Facebook, and Angel Haynes, who followed me on Twitter. Thanks, ladies, and enjoy the book! Email me to work out details on getting it to you.

Interview with a Church Planting Wife:: Jen Hatmaker

2012-01-09T06:00:00.000-05:00

I'm really happy that I have convinced many of you to read Seven, a book by Jen Hatmaker about fasting from various types of excess and a book that has impacted my life so much that I've been digging around in other people's trash. If you haven't gotten your hands on a copy yet, you have until Friday to enter my giveaway for the book. Your options for entering are:

Add my blog button to your blog using the given html code and then leave a link to your blog in the comment section so 1) we all can stalk your blog and 2) I know you want the book.
Like my blog on Facebook. You can do this right over there on the left hand side of the page. I will know if you do so you don't have to leave a comment, unless you just want to because you love me that much.
Subscribe to my blog and leave a comment letting me know you did.
Follow me on Twitter.

Aside from being the author of Seven and other books, a speaker, and a mom to five, Jen Hatmaker is a church planting wife. She and her husband, Brandon, planted Austin New Church on Easter Sunday 2008. I recently asked her a few questions about church planting life. I think you'll find her answers insightful and grace-filled.

From reading your book, you seem to be really good at avoiding the whole "lonely pastor's wife" business that so many ministry wives describe. How do you prioritize friendship in your life? And how do you prioritize friendship while also doing the ministry thing, a.k.a. meeting with people, hospitality, etc.? It feels difficult sometimes for me to do both well.

At my wedding shower when I was NINETEEN YEARS OLD (for the love), my pastor's wife who I loved and respected gave a talk, and she looked me in the eyes and said, "When we were in seminary, John's professors told him not to make close friends because it would create jealousy in the church and people would resent us. They said part of our sacrifice was to be each other's best friend to the exclusion of outside couples and families, in order to preserve harmony in our congregation. I want to tell you something: Do the exact opposite of that. Have best friends. Take trips together. Be vulnerable with them. Let love in and give it out with abandon. Have friends closer than brothers and sisters. I've been lonely my entire life, and I want your future life in ministry to be so full of close friends and love, you can barely contain it." I did exactly that. I spend so much time with my friends, it's embarrassing. It's this simple: I don't put any "shoulds" or "should nots" into this equation because my husband is a pastor. I'm a girl. I love my friends just like every girl does. The end.

What has been your greatest struggle(s) in church planting and what have you learned through those struggles that might benefit another church planting wife?
Early on, I got way too hung up on what people were thinking of me, Brandon, and our little church. Are they happy? Are they inspired? Are they moved? Are they cynical? Are they staying? Are they cheating on us with another church because are not _______ enough? It stole a lot of energy away from that season. And as it turns out, I can't control what other people think, no matter how much I practice mind control. Somewhere in our second year of ANC, God's words finally sunk in: "You glorify me, make me famous, do my work, love my people, teach my Word, and stay faithful to this vision I've given you, and I'll worry about everything else." OK.Check. Off the hook. Someone is always not happy. Someone always wants different music. Someone always prefers their last pastor. Someone always has different ideas. This is OK. We don't have to be everyone's favorite. And that doesn't mean anyone is right or wrong. At the end of the day, are we doing what God asked of us? I mean really doing it? That's all we're responsible for. It's terribly liberating.

With five kids and your own writing/speaking ministry, how do you decide what you will or will not do that is church-related?
Well, this is easy for me, because our church is very, very not programmed. We don't actually have any. All of our community and discipleship and serving is done through our Restore Communities (small geographical groups). Each group meets twice a month for study and discussion, once a month (at least) for service, and they take the fourth week off to hang out with neighbors and coworkers. We just believe that we can't expect a faith community to live on mission if we're taking up three nights of their weeks. We run a super lean ship and think of ourselves as a sending church way more than a gathering church, or at least as much as. I'm the most un-church-busy pastor's wife on Planet Earth.

My husband and I talk all the time about maintaining the "heart and eyes" of the church planter, like we were at the beginning: missional, relational with outsiders, hospitable, outreach-minded. There is such a pull toward the comfortable, established-church mindset as we grow (read: inside focused). How do you and your husband maintain the "heart and eyes" of the church planter as your church grows?
So, so, so true. The bigger the machine gets, the more it requires tending. And then more Christians come, and they require the most tending of anyone. This may sound oversimplified, but we make sure we are sticking to the vision for ANC, which requires a lot from our people. A lot. And we preach the hard stuff. We've found this to be a fabulous filter. We seem to keep two groups: mature, discipled believers who want more from this Christian life than clever sermon series and one more Bible study to sign up for, and jaded, angry, cynical non-believers or barely-believers who are giving the church one more chance, and they dig the missional vibe of ANC. But the middle dwellers are a revolving door. They come and leave, not motivated enough to join the mission and wanting to know when we're going to start offering AWANA's. This helps us not get bogged down with trying to please them, which helps us remember what we're doing, which helps us remember who we care about: the other 65% of people in our country who are entirely disconnected from Jesus and his people. There are enough churches positioned to serve the 35% who already believe. We can be this little random, divergent faith community in weird Austin paddling down a different stream.

Thank you, Jen! Readers, I plan to do more interviews with church planting and ministry wives in the coming months. Are you a church planting or ministry wife with questions you'd like answered? Or are you a non-ministry wife with life questions you'd like to ask? Leave any questions you have in the comment section and I'll pass them along.

I Took Someone's Trash Today (Giveaway!) (It's not the Trash)

2012-01-05T22:13:00.002-05:00

As I drove my kids to school today, I noticed a perfectly good mattress set lying out for trash pick-up on my neighbor's curb. I rushed back, giddy with excitement, threw on jeans and a sweatshirt (because I take my kids to school wearing pajamas and my husband's shoes), and knocked on my neighbor's door to ask for the mattress. You're an answer to prayer, I told her, as she helped me stuff them in the back of my car. A prayer only 45 minutes old, in fact. A prayer that I would be able to meet the needs of a woman. A prayer specifically for mattresses.

Because last night, I spoke to that woman on the phone, a mom of two young children, who has her first place, but only a couch and a bed to outfit it. No dishes. No pots and pans. No beds for her children. No curtains for her windows. No silverware. No kitchen appliances. Anything, she said, when I asked her what her needs and wants were, anything you can give. And she added: Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.

I spoke with the woman because yesterday I emailed an administrator at my kids' school to ask a simple question: Are there any families with needs that my family or my church family can meet? She immediately responded with the woman's needs and her number.

I emailed the administrator because I read a book, Seven by Jen Hatmaker. This book may be one of the most important books that I've read in a really long time, not just because it started the dominoes falling toward those mattresses, but because it answered the rumblings and questions and concerns that have been just kind of hovering in my heart for the past year. Concerns about myself and about my faith put into action. Concerns about the excess I live in and the blindness I have to needs around me. Desires to serve and meet needs in the name of Christ, but not knowing how to start.

You must read this book. Here's what it's about: Jen (the author) did an experiment in which each month for 7 months, she and sometimes her entire family fasted in an area she felt they were excessive in: media, stress, possessions, shopping, food, clothes, and waste. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that sounds all preachy and super-spiritual and hard and you don't want to read it. Thankfully, it's the complete opposite. It is laugh-out-loud hilarious, totally real-life, 100% empowering, and 0% guilt-inducing.

You must go immediately to purchase this book and devour it whole. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Do not stop to brush your teeth or feed your children. While you're out, buy Depends to wear because you will pee yourself while reading from laughing so hard.

Some other suggestions of how to read this book:

Keep a notepad handy while you're reading to write down notes and thoughts because ideas and action points will come to you like nobody's business.
Do not read this book right before you go to bed because you will not be able to sleep due to the millions of thoughts running around in your brain.
Read this book with your girlfriends because you'll want to take action and they will think you're crazy when you start picking up mattresses off your neighbor's curb.

So, because you now cannot wait to read this book, I have some exciting news. I have a copy of Seven to give away! Yay!!!! Just enter one (or all) of these ways by Friday, January 13th at noon for your chance to win and be forever changed.

I got a new blog button! (Thanks, Marina) It's right over there on the left hand side of the page. Add the button to your blog using the given html code and then leave a link to your blog in the comment section so 1) we all can stalk your blog and 2) I know you want the book.
Like my blog on Facebook. You can also do this right over there on the left hand side of the page. I will know if you do so you don't have to leave a comment, unless you just want to because you love me that much.
Subscribe to my blog and leave a comment letting me know you did.

I have some more exciting news. Jen Hatmaker, besides being my secret new best friend even though she doesn't know me, is also a church planting wife. I interviewed her about church planting life and will post it on Monday. So stay tuned.

By the way, the neighbor I took the mattress from came by my house tonight. After I told her what I was doing, she wanted to offer more things that she was replacing and wanted to give away.

A connection with a neighbor I didn't know already.

A need met.

And hopefully many more to come.

A Love Letter to My Stretch Marks

2012-01-03T09:38:00.000-05:00

Yesterday my oldest son came home from school with an assignment: It is a new year. Write a paragraph about three things you would like to change about yourself in 2012.

It starts young, this change thing.

My son, God love him, did not understand the question. Do I write three things that I like about myself? Or do I write three things that I'm good at? It's only natural that an 8-year-old boy who thinks only of when he can next partake of video games, food, or insanely stupid knock-knock jokes does not often (can not?) reflect introspectively on how he could improve. Unless, of course, it concerns video games, food, or knock-knock jokes.

I, on the other hand, being a 35-year-old woman, keep a running, bullet-pointed list of what I need to change, how I need to grow, what I need to do differently, what goals I need to achieve and by what time period I need to achieve them. What would you like to change about yourself? I understand the question way too well. It's like New Years Day in my head all year round.

Now is the time when everyone is being all goal-oriented and making bold statements and all that. Me, I'm just taking a cue from my 8-year-old son and pretending I don't know what is going on. Let's face it, when it comes down to it, I have a really long way to go in every area of my life. I can't plug my ears and hum, pretending like everything is hunky dory and I have it all down pat. But I also am like every other woman on this plant: way too hard on myself. Most of the things I want to change about myself either 1) cannot be changed or 2) are vain or 3) are stupid. I call into evidence Stretch Marks, Bra Size, and Nose That All Right Angles Can be Measured By.

There is a time and a place for change. Most definitely. But it should be a Spirit thing: when He convicts or speaks, we repent or obey. If we go by lists and rules and good old fashioned willpower, sorry, hate to say it, but it will fail every time or at best be a total lifeless pursuit. We are God's workmanship (Greek: poem). We present ourselves as materials and He'll author the story or whittle the boat or scrap the book or whatever art form you prefer.

But here's the deal, ladies. There is also a time and a place for being good with what ya got. At this time of year, we should write down all the things we wish we could instantly change about ourselves and flip the pancake. Can't you just hear Dr. Phil: No matter how flat you make the pancake, it always has two sides. There is always a good thing about the stuff we don't like but can't change.

So, Stretch Marks, I love you. You so lovingly appeared so that I could carry three healthy (read: big) babies.

Bra Size, thank you, because I will never, ever, in a million trillion years, no matter how old I get, sag.

Nose That All Right Angles Can Be Measured By, I don't like you, but my husband likes my profile and talks about it unprovoked, so I guess you're all right.

Whiskers That Grow on My Chin, I love you because you give me something to do in the morning because I don't have enough to do and you'll gross people out when I'm old and cannot see them anymore to pluck them and that will secretly amuse me.

Melancholy Personality, I love you because even though you're prone to thinking the sky is falling, you help me be sensitive. Because of you, I don't just think of video games, food, and knock-knock jokes.

Age, you're the best. I am young enough to still see the whiskers growing on my chin without glasses, but old enough to have a little wisdom-building experience under my belt and kids who can wipe their own booties.

Children of the Boy Variety, I love you. Though our best conversations center around Super Mario Brothers and I do not understand the wild running, wrestling, and "silly meetings", you surprise and delight me as I watch you move through life at full sprint.

Husband, you're my favorite. You snored last night, but you're still my favorite. You put up with said Melancholy Personality, complete with obsessive thoughts and emotional outbursts. And you love my assets, like my nose and whiskers.

I could go on, but I shaint.

So I'm happy for all of you out there that have distilled your year into one word or have an itemized list of things you're working on this year. I hope that hopey-changey stuff works out for you.

But I'm just trying to be hopey with what I got and let the Spirit do the changey part.

Question: What about you are you happy that you have?

When Grace Wanders Off

2012-01-01T18:21:00.000-05:00

Grace is like a small child who easily slips away unnoticed or constantly lags behind, entranced with wonder at every leaf or puppy. Without constant attention and lots of hand holding, grace wanders off. And when grace wanders off, it takes me far too long to realize it.

Somewhere along the way this past year I lost grace.

I got distracted, concerned with the "what nexts" and the "what ifs" and the "why nots", my mind so full of churning self-focused stuff that I don't even know when grace got lost.

I got hurried, running ahead, begging grace to keep up with all my plans and my purposes, so sure I could make it on my own for a while.

It wasn't until I got weary and restless, trying so hard to make things fit and make things right and make things happen and have something to show for myself and be a little more presentable and a little more together, that I looked around and realized grace was lost.

So I have been searching for grace, all the while trying to remember what grace looks like, trying to listen for grace's voice, calling out for Him, so certain of how I much I very much need to find grace again.

This past week, in the quiet of the after-holiday, I found grace again. Or rather, grace found me.

But grace is not the small child wandering off.
I am.
I try to boss grace around and impatiently implore it to keep up with me, but run off and lose it in the process.

Maybe that's why Paul said Stand firm in the liberty by which Christ has made us free. We have to hold hands with grace or we wander off, either so sure we can walk on our own or so weighed down with guilt that we distance ourselves.

This year, 2012, I am clinging to grace, the grace that is found at the cross of Christ. I'm not letting grace out of my sight. I'm going to let it parent me, lead me, decide for me, respond for me, change me.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, calling me back because I've wandered away. I once was lost, but I've been found again. And, each day, I'm going to let His grace find me again and again and again.

Oh to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it.
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

A Year in Pictures

2011-12-30T09:00:00.000-05:00

A Year in Recipes

2011-12-29T09:00:00.000-05:00

When it comes to cooking, I'm not a creature of habit. I love to try new recipes, especially when they come recommended from trusted friends who are also great cooks. In 2011, I discovered a few new recipes that have passed the husband taste test and, thus, made it into the meal rotation. Here they are for your future tasting pleasure:

Black Bean Burritos
from my sister Sarah

1 Tbsp cumin
1 tsp garlic salt
1 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp red pepper
3-4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cubed
2 Tbsp vegetable oil
1 can black beans, drained
1 can kernel corn, drained
2 cans Rotel
1 cup instant rice
1/2 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
1 cup grated cheddar cheese

Combine cumin, garlic, paprika, and red pepper. Add cubed chicken and half of the seasoning blend to a Ziploc bag. Shake to coat. Cook chicken in vegetable oil until no longer pink. Combine beans, corn, Rotel, and reserved seasoning blend. Add to chicken. Bring to a boil. Add rice. Cover and cook 5 minutes or until rice is tender. Top with cheese and cilantro. Serve with tortillas.

Greek Salad
from my friend Jenny

1 head romaine lettuce,
2 medium cucumbers, diced
3 tomatoes, cut into wedges
1/2 small red onion, sliced paper thin
1/2 pouch feta cheese, crumbled
1/2 cup pitted kalamata olives

Dressing:
2 Tbsp red wine vinegar
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1 clove garlic, finely minced
1 1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 cup olive oil
salt & pepper

Pecan Pie
from Texas Monthly magazine

Filling:
1/3 cup butter
1 cup white sugar
1 cup light corn syrup
4 eggs
1 tsp salt
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups pecan halves

Melt the butter, and combine it with the sugar, corn syrup, eggs, salt, and vanilla. Pour the mixture into a pie shell. Place the pecan halves on top. Bake at 350 degrees for 45-60 minutes. It's ready when you stick a knife into the pie and it comes out clean.

And Old Faithful:
Crumbly Top Apple Pie
from my great-grandmother

1/4 cup sugar
3/4 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp salt
4 cups pared, sliced apples
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup flour
1/3-1/2 cup butter

Mix sugar, cinnamon, and salt. Add apples. Arrange apples in pie shell. Blend brown sugar and flour. Cut in butter. Sprinkle flour mixture over apples. Bake at 400 for 30-35 minutes.

Enjoy!

A Year in Writing

2011-12-28T16:17:00.000-05:00

Regarding my blog, you've told me with the click of your mouse what your favorite posts have been:

An interview with Lauren Chandler about ministry, marriage, and cancer. My favorite line: "The beauty is that we don't put our trust in statistics and prognoses. We put our trust in the Lord."
Kelly Matte shared about being a pastor's wife. "I seek to make our relationship and our home a haven for him."
This post on pursuing passions really struck a nerve.
Pastor's Wife, Conversation Killer and other hazards of the hubby's job. Pastors' wives everywhere can relate.
Sometimes: Practicing letting people see us in various states of disarray. That's hard for us girls.
Of the 31 Days of Love Letters, Bridegroom Love, Forgiving Love, and Intimate Love were the most popular.

My favorites are bit different, perhaps because they best represent what I've learned this year:

Enough: a take on comparison and envy.
Conversations in My Head, out for all to see. This post also struck a nerve.
Sometimes we disappoint people. But sometimes we disappoint ourselves.
When It's One of Those Days
Different Strokes (and I don't mean the TV show)
Pleasing God vs. Pleasing People
We all have dreams, some of them hidden and unspoken. Does God see? Does He remember?
A sweet moment with my special-needs son.

Do you have a favorite that wasn't mentioned? Or a favorite post from another blog? Leave the link in the comment section.

A Year of Favorite Things

2011-12-27T09:00:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I shared my favorite books of the year.

Today, continuing my "Best Of" series, I'm sharing a smattering of my Favorite Things of 2011:

Quote (and the Inspiration for my 31 Days of Love Letters series):
"Only if we will venture to enter into the words of the Bible, as though in them this God were speaking to us who loves us and does not will to leave us along with our questions, only so shall we learn to rejoice in the Bible..."--Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Author and Blogger:
Shauna Niequist, author of Cold Tangerines and Bittersweet, writes Story with humor and authenticity. I've enjoyed reading her on another of my favorite things of 2011: my Kindle.

Truth from Scripture:
Therefore He is also able to save to the uttermost those who come to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them. Hebrews 7:25

Blogs, Links, Posts, Web:
Called to Write by Rachelle Gardner (applicable to anyone questioning their calling)
When Compassion Becomes a Gold Rush by Ann Voskamp, a moving piece on poverty and God's provision.
Sitting at His Feet, a blog by Shannon, whom I met at Relevant. She writes beautifully and has beautiful things to say.
Blogging with Amy, a really helpful site for bloggers.
Picnik, a (free) Photoshop for Dummies

TV:
We're always a little behind the times when it comes to TV. Most of what we watch, we watch on Netflix. By far, our favorites this year were Arrested Development and Friday Night Lights. Arrested Development, because it's genius, and Friday Night Lights, because it accurately depicts my home state and because it makes you feel like you know the characters. I highly recommend both.

Movies:
We're documentary fanatics so naturally, my favorites fall into that catgeory.

Buck: A movie about the real life horse whisperer who trains horses, but, amazingly, also relates to child-rearing, human relationships, abuse, fostering/adoption, and free will. Plus, Grandma's joke at the end is pretty funny.

The King of Kong: The perfect hero/villain movie revolving around the world record score in Donkey Kong. You don't have to be a nerd or a video game fanatic to love this movie.

Local Loves:
If you live in Charlottesville or even if you don't, you'll want to check out these creative, inspiring, talented people:
Maddy makes the best desserts at Sweet Madelines.
Tahni at Joyeuse Photography is an incredible photographer.
Crystal at Little Bit Funky makes custom gifts that I love to give (including the stitching of Reese's drawing above).

Music:
Gungor
Have you heard Gungor yet? If not, you must listen to their beautiful, haunting, truth-filled music.

21 by Adele
Play. Listen. Repeat. That's what I do.
SCL workout video

Video:
Hilarious!
Finally:
You, blog reader, are one of my favorite things of the year. Thank you for giving me an avenue for writing, for your encouragement, and for your comments. Thank you also to those who send readers my way through your own blogs. I really appreciate each and every one of you.

Do you have any "favorite things"to share with us? Tell us in the comments.

A Year in Books

2011-12-26T08:42:00.000-05:00

I'm a sucker for the "Best Of" and "Year in Review" lists that pop up in magazines and newspapers this time of year. I love mining them for tidbits and recommendations, especially concerning reading material. My ever-expanding list of books I want to read is both a delight (so many good ones!) and a burden (so little time to get them all in!).

In honor of my list-making obsession and the closing of a year, this week will be my own "Best Of", starting, of course, with a recap of a great year in books. As always, feel free to chime in with your own favorites and recommendations in the comment section.

Diving right in...

Book I recommended most in 2011 (and new must-read favorite of all time): Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand

Books I most enjoyed revisiting with Will: Henry Huggins and all the books about Henry and his dog Ribsy by Beverly Cleary

Author whose books I loved reading to my kids: Henry & Mudge books by Cynthia Rylant, especially The Funny Lunch

Most perspective-changing: One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp

History book that fascinated me (and mentioned my Charlottesville neighbor, Thomas Jefferson, countless times): John Adams by David McCullough

Classics I tried hard to read and just couldn't get into: Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (Do I hear audible gasping?) and Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton

Biography of a life that challenged me: Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metexas

Most applicable book I've read in a long time: Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives by Richard Swenson

Books of the Bible that impacted me the most: Colossians, Luke, Lamentations

Books that inspired my own writing and creative process: Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist and My Life in Paris by Julia Child

Favorite fiction books from a non-fiction book reader: The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins

Book I re-read this year: The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer

Book I'm reading right now: Grace-Filled Parenting by Dr. Tim Kimmel

Did you read any good books in 2011? What are you excited about reading in 2012? Tell me in the comments!

God With Us

2011-12-19T14:15:00.000-05:00

O come, O come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear.

O come, Thou Dayspring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here;

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,

And death's dark shadows put to flight.

Here is our King.

Here is our Love.

Here is our God who's come to bring us back to Him.

He is the One,

He is Jesus.

Oh holy night!

The stars are brightly shining

It is the night of the dear Savior's birth!

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

Tears are falling, hearts are breaking

How we need to hear from God

You've been promised, we've been waiting

Welcome Holy Child

Fragile finger sent to heal us

Tender brow prepared for thorn

Tiny heart whose blood will save us

Unto us is born.

So wrap our injured flesh around you

Breathe our air and walk our sod

Rob our sin and make us holy

Perfect Son of God.

Welcome to our world.

O, come let us adore Him!

Christ the Lord.

Merry Christmas from the Hoovers.

Songs referenced: O Come, O Come, Emmanuel; Here is Our King by David Crowder; O Holy Night; Welcome to our World by Chris Rice; O Come All Ye Faithful

Church Planting Roundup

2011-12-18T09:42:00.000-05:00

Allow me to share some links that have been meaningful to me as a church planting wife as of late. (Perhaps they will encourage you too?)

Because we must learn from other church planters in order to avoid their mistakes:
Mark Driscoll's 10 Painful Lessons from the Early Days of Mars Hill

Because comparison is an ugly side effect of church planting (and writing):
Leslie's Kick Insecurity in the Face

Because discouragement happens:
Shannon encourages us to Stand Firm in our calling

Because we so often forget that a church is built one relationship at a time:
Seth Godin on Preparing for the Breakthrough

Because everyone started somewhere and all the work is God's:
Mars Hill's documentary: God's Work, Our Witness

Because sometimes our greatest critic is ourself:
I share about The Pastor's Wife in my head

Do you have any encouraging links you'd like to share with us? Just leave them for us in the comments.

Read My Lips

2011-12-15T16:33:00.000-05:00

As a newlywed, I did not fight fair. My MO was simple: turn on the water works, speak before thinking, and, when all else fails, use the silent treatment. Kyle called this--my mute, comatose state--System Shutdown, but he (wisely) only called it that when I was no longer in it, when the skirmish had ended and all had been settled between us.

Sometimes during System Shutdown, he'd try to talk to me: "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I'd say, clearly lying, with my arms crossed and eyes glued to the floor.

Silence.

But there wasn't silence in my head. The angry monologue played: I can't believe he doesn't know what's wrong. It's so obvious. Ooooh boy, that just makes me more mad that he doesn't know. If he really loved me, he would know.

I was certain he could read my mind, he should read my mind. My poor husband, newly trapped in a marriage with a mute wife holding impossible expectations over him.

Gradually, I learned to stop equating true love with mind meld. Too, I saw Kyle's earnest, genuine desire to meet my needs. To help him, when I grew frustrated, I learned to pinpoint what was truly bothering me and calmly and specifically address it with him. I learned to directly ask for what I needed from him. I quit the silent treatment cold turkey.

System Shutdown is completely and forever shutdown.

Lesson learned.

Or so I thought.

Although I no longer expect my husband to read my mind, I realized recently that I often expect other people to do it.

Like my children. Do they know how proud I am of them or how I am delighted by their gifts and quirks? Do they know what I hope for them or what I pray for them? Do they know how valuable and special they are to me?

Or my friends. Do they know how thankful I am for their encouragement or how much I appreciate the things they do for me, liking keeping my kids or remembering my birthday? Do they know that I couldn't make it without them or that I see God using them in powerful ways?

Or my mentors. Do they know that I thrive on their example? Do they know that I appreciate their leadership and service? Do they know they've made a profound impact on my life?

Or the people hurting around me. Do they know that I care about what they're going through or that I am challenged by their faithfulness to the Lord? Do they know that I am praying for them and thinking of them? Do they know they aren't alone?

And maybe even still my husband, but in a different way than before. Does he know that I respect his leadership in our home and in our church? Does he know how I honored I feel to be his wife? Does he know that I think he's funny or that I appreciate that he makes the bed every morning?

My presence isn't enough. They aren't going to know these things by osmosis.

Generic thank you's or I love you's aren't enough. They aren't going to know the depth of how I feel unless I'm vulnerable and specific.

Thinking it and feeling it isn't enough. They aren't going to know unless I speak the words.

They can't read my mind.

So they must read my lips.

When Jesus Left Heaven

2011-12-12T11:45:00.001-05:00

They must have been confused, the angels, as they watched Jesus take off His robe and lay aside His crown; perplexed even more when His Father escorted the Son to the gates of Heaven, commissioning Him to leave.

The Beloved One to leave the warmth and joy and wholeness of Heaven? Never would they have thought. Certainly, there must be a reason and they must have followed behind the Father and the Son to discover it, to watch the goodbyes, to see these strange events unfold.

The Son, the Light of Heaven, gone away. They must have wept at the removal of His presence, at seeing the only Son torn from His Father's side. God, knowing His good purposes, must have comforted them, saying, "It is time. The salvation the prophets have inquired about and searched carefully for is come."

Yes, they must have replied, excitement building, these are the things we have desired to look into!

And so He escorted them to the gates of Heaven too. He sent them too.

They arrived at a destination they did not expect. It was not Jerusalem or a palatial home among the elite. It was not among the religious leaders or even in a large city. Bethlehem, little Bethlehem, out of the way Bethlehem.

And there, in a barn, among slobbering, smelly animals, a young mother giving birth to a child.

A child so familiar.

Could it be?

And suddenly, the plan was known, crystallized before them in a newborn boy.

All this time, the world burdened under the weight of sin, disasterously off course. All this time, the humble men and women waiting, eyes toward Heaven. All this time, the blood of the animals. All this time, God far off.

The angels must have exploded with joy, to see their only Heavenly Joy swaddled up and given as a gift to mankind. Their gift would become the earth's; humble men and women would get to see and hear and touch their Beloved Jesus.

In their rejoicing, they did what anyone does when their receive an immeasurable gift. They shared it, by singing, by revealing themselves to people.

I wonder, did the neighbors or the innkeeper or the many people crowding Bethlehem's streets hear their rejoicing? After all, it was a normal evening, with food preparations and business to take care of and children to put to bed. Perhaps they were too busy to notice the bright star in the sky or the strange singing outside their windows. Oblivious to joy.

The shepherds didn't miss it, this explosion of joy so overwhelming that it made them uncomfortable and fearful. The angels calmed them: Do not be afraid! Don't miss this! The greatest gift ever given to this world can be seen in Bethlehem! GO!!

To their unending joy, they went.

They saw the gift, just a helpless little baby.

A baby who unburdened the world.
A baby who made all sin come untrue.
A baby who was God come near.

He is your unending joy too, for unto you is born this day, a Savior, Christ the Lord.
Like the angels, we must look into these things, to seek understanding.
But like the shepherds, we must seek Him, to see the gift wrapped up in a little baby, to know this joy.

When Christmas Feels Like Pressure

2011-12-08T08:14:00.001-05:00

It's December 8th, just 17 days before Christmas, and I'm still recovering from Thanksgiving.

I keep thinking that if I just get through this Christmas party and that Christmas event and the end of school and Christmas baking and Christmas cards and Christmas shopping, that then I will celebrate Christmas.

As I cook dinner each night, I turn on Pandora's Christmas station, hear the first lines of Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire, and immediately turn it off, almost disgusted. Frank Sinatra is roasting chestnuts and Michael Buble is going on sleigh rides, but I'm just checking off a to-do list and falling into bed.

My heart hasn't celebrated Christmas yet.

Yesterday, I realized why.

Sometimes Christmas feels like pressure, like it has to be perfect and feel like Christmas, all snow and hot chocolate and jingle bells and family togetherness. Sometimes Christmas feels frantic and busy. Sometimes it feels completely unlike what it is supposed to be.

My heart is resistant this year, resistant to trying to feel Christmas, to the wild, insane commercialization of it all.

I don't want to do stuff and get stuff.

I don't want to try to create an imitation Christmas.

I want a real, bare, meaningful Christmas.

And I know that begins in my heart.
___
I'm sharing about how I help my kids celebrate Christmas with Becky today. Here's a snippet:

Remember grace.

Traditions can provoke guilt if we let them. We feel like we have to create the perfect traditions to have the perfect Christmas. I remember feeling pressure to have our family’s traditions perfectly in place when my first child had his first Christmas at 8 months old! I’ve since learned that traditions are fluid: some are added accidentally, some are better when kids are older, and then some need to be changed when they are even older still. Traditions are not god; traditions should help us treasure God.

Join me there?

In addition, the following are posts that you might find helpful during this Advent season:

Christmas and God's Love Language
The Best Christmas Craft Ever
When You're Having a Blue Christmas
Celebrating Advent with Kids: Resources

I appreciated these recent posts, as they reflect what God is doing in my heart this Christmas:

When Christmas Gets Radical
The Christmas Conundrum