Keep Singing

We were exactly in the middle of our month long missions trip to South Africa. I, along with a few others, were randomly selected to go and speak at a women's prison just outside of Cape Town. We drove through the imposing gates of the prison and as we walked inside, steel door after steel door closed loudly behind us, locking us into the dreary building.

We started our time with worship. None of us had a guitar or piano, but we had a kickin' boombox and a cd. We got through the first song, no problem. We may have gotten through the second song as well, I cannot remember; the details have gotten a little foggy in the last ten years. Another song started playing; it was "You Raise Me Up", which was at it's peak of popularity.

I will never forget the way that these ladies joined in. Their faces shone with encouragement as they sang the words of this song.

And then, the cd started skipping. Our kickin' boombox was kicking it towards a slow death. I started praying that the song would start working. It was easy to see this song was ministering to these women and I was totally overwhelmed and intimidated at the thoughts of what could happen if we upset them or let them down. I was naive.

The song stopped playing entirely. I looked around the room with frightened eyes for one brief moment until...

the women kept right on singing. They were not going to let a boombox dinosaur ruin the moment that they were having with the song.

The singing filled the room and each face only became more beautiful.

It was a holy moment.

The ladies were in unfortunate circumstances in their lives. Truly, none of them were exactly where they desired to be. They had been met with hardship and mistakes and loneliness. Yet, they kept singing.

It reminds me of King David and his precious Psalms. There are plenty of psalms that were written in the midst of his life's pain. In the persecution, David wrote and sang. In the rejection, David wrote and sang. In his sin and shame, David wrote and sang.

His psalms speak still today that God can be found at the rock bottom of our circumstances. Each melancholy psalm pours forth its pain and then directs its gaze instead on the beauty and sovereignty of the Lord.

David too, kept singing. He let the song in his heart carry him through the storm directly into the presence of God.

Psalm 4: David begins with, "How long, exalted men, will my honor be insulted? How long will you love what is worthless and pursue a lie?" (v 2) and he ends with "You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and new wine abound. I will both lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, Lord, make me live in safety." (vv 7-8)
Psalm 5: David begins, "Listen to my words, Lord; consider my sighing. Pay attention to my cry, my King and my God, for I pray to you." (v 1) and ends, "But let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them shout for joy forever. May You shelter them, and may those who love Your name boast about You. For You, Lord, bless the righteous one; You surround him with favor like a shield." ( vv 11-12)
Psalm 6: David begins, "Lord, do not rebuke me in Your anger; do not disciplines me in Your wrath. Be gracious to me, Lord, for I am weak; heal me, Lord, for my bones are shaking; my whole being is shaken with terror. And You, Lord - how long?" (vv 1-3) and he ends with, "The Lord has heard my plea for help; the Lord accepts my prayer." (v 9).

These are just three examples from a single page of Scripture. Each psalm ends in hope. David and the other psalmists poured out their prayers, focused on God's goodness, and found their burdens lifted (except psalm 88, which ends on a painful note. But that's another blog...)

Sometimes the song can speak the words that we cannot.

When we were pregnant with Ezra and had received the report that he may have chromosomal abnormalities, we had to wait until we could follow up on that report. It was a vicious five days of waiting and wondering.

During those moments when the fear tried to choke me, I would sit at our piano and play the only song that would bring me comfort: "Good, Good Father". I would sing through tears streaming down my face and dwell on His goodness. There, sitting at the piano and focused on Him, I could truly accept whatever fate awaited my precious baby.

I kept singing. It was all that I could do.

When your circumstances are not all that you wish they were, keep singing.
When pressures are pushing in at you from every side, keep singing.
When your heart is broken and battered, keep singing.
When anxieties threaten to tear you apart on the inside, keep singing.
When the loneliness is stifling, keep singing.

When you cannot do anything else, keep singing.

In the singing, you will find Him.

Be Still and Start Moving

It has been a tough summer for me. God has been chiseling away at any place in my life where I have sought a safe place, other than Him. Relationships. Health. Ministry. Food. Finances. Relationships (again and again and again).

At times it has felt less like chiseling and more like God was using a machete to hack away whole parts of my safe havens.

And like chiseling (and hacking) tend to be, it's been painful. There have been tears. There have been angry prayers to God. There have been awful emotional reactions. There has been listening, learning,  and waiting.

I think, I think, I'm maybe kinda sorta starting to get a bit of the gist of it. Perhaps.

Sometimes answers come immediately. Some take their sweet time, like an old person driving around on a Sunday afternoon.

It is so easy to get frustrated and impatient in the waiting.

"God? Hello? You're still listening, right?"

There are a couple of different ways that I have tried to navigate this chiseling season.

1. Following my own instincts

We visited Matt's parents over Easter. Once I laid the younger boys down for a nap, I seized the opportunity to get some alone time with my oldest. We went "adventuring", which included throwing rocks in the river, walking the trails, and getting a little bit lost. I knew the way back to the house, but Finn wasn't so sure. Yet, since he's a 5 year old boy, he insisted on leading. He led us well, trusting his instincts and his memory. I complimented him at one point on doing a good job and he spoke, in true Finn fashion, "Your Finny is like a superhero. I can sniff the way home. Like a superhero dog."

I let him lead, because he insisted upon it. But I knew the way to our destination; if he got too far off track, I could always take control and redirect. So we meandered a bit, but still reached home. If I had led the way home, we would have gotten there quicker. But 5 year old boys really like to lead the way.

Adults like to lead the way sometimes too. We think we know best, and we don't always like to be told what to do or where to go. We know what we want and we are pretty sure that we know how to get it. So we take off and charge toward the goal line. The good news is that when we belong to God, He watches over our way. When we get too far off course, He resets our steps. In His mercy, He gives us the freedom to make decisions and in His love He helps us stay on the path to our destination.

We sometimes try to sniff our way home, not unlike a superhero dog, and expect God to bless wherever we end up.

Those who follow their instincts will try to look ahead to worst case scenarios and manipulate and control all the variables so things are in their favor. They try to manage all factors.

But there's another way, an arguably quicker way to reach our destination.

2. Follow the Leader

I was paying attention to the band a few weeks ago during worship. I rarely ever do this, so it was eye opening to me. It's no secret that Matt is a free flow in worship kind of guy. Most of the people on the worship team have played with Matt a long time and they know his signals very well. They know when his foot starts thumping, things are only getting started. When he backs away from the mic, keep it rolling and stay where you are. When the head nods, begin the new song. In those moments of free flow they are fully tuned in on him, as the leader, to tell them where to go next in the song. If one of them were to stop paying attention, that one could miss an important cue. Their eyes are on him, and they follow him. They trust his leadership.

Those who follow the leader focus on playing their part well and watching for their leader's cues. They study their leader to know the cues better. It's a sweet mix of watching, waiting, and acting.

One of my favorite verses for a long time was Exodus 14:14: "The Lord is fighting for you. You need only to be still!". I was in a season of transition when I clung to that promise. I would speak it to myself frequently to be encouraged in the face of the unknown.

One thing I didn't do at the time was read and study the surrounding text. In this passage of Scripture, Moses has led the Israelite people to the edge of the Red Sea. They are accosting him and accusing him, desiring to return to the chains of Egypt instead of pursuing the vast unknown. They preferred a safe cage to the arms of God. I would judge them for it, but I'm too busy identifying with them.

Here's what I missed years ago: right after Moses reminded the Israelites that God is fighting for them and to just relax, God responds: "Then the Lord said to Moses, 'Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to start moving." (v 15).

Er, God, what is it? Be still or start moving?

Both. 

The 'being still' has to do with our thoughts and emotions. It stops them before they take over and we act and react to whatever we feel. If it had been up to the Israelites, they would have returned to Egypt and lived in slavery.....out of fear.

The 'start moving' has to do with stepping out in faith, taking the next step that God shows you. If the Israelites had never taken that next step, they would have missed the spectacular experience of God dividing the Red Sea, for their freedom.  "Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea. All that night the Lord pushed back the sea with a strong east wind and turned the sea into dry ground. The water divided, and the Israelites went through the middle of the sea on dry ground. The water stood like a wall on their right and on their left." (vv. 21-22).

As we follow God's leading, we need to do our best to stay calm. That doesn't mean never crying or never praying to God in anger. It means rehearsing His faithfulness and the amazing things He's already done for you. It means remembering His goodness and the millions of times He's shown His love to you. It means being aware of His power and promises and the fact that He can change your situation in a moment and WILL change it if and when it needs to be changed. Until then, it's knowing He's got you.

But we also need to keep our feet moving. We cannot sit around and wait, letting our gifts sit idle or others' needs unmet. We keep our eyes on Him for cues, and we walk, knowing He will direct us.

The thing with waiting on God's timing is that it cannot be rushed or manipulated.

But it can absolutely, 100%, all the time, be trusted.

"Protect me, O God, because I take refuge in you. I said to the Lord, 'You are my Lord. Without you, I have nothing good.' Those who lead holy lives on earth are the noble ones who fill me with joy. Those who quickly chase after other gods multiply their sorrows. I will not pour out their sacrificial offerings of blood or use my lips to speak their names. The Lord is my inheritance and my cup. You are the one who determines my destiny. Your boundary lines mark out pleasant places for me. Indeed, my inheritance is something beautiful. I will praise the Lord, who advises me. My conscience warns me at night. I always keep the Lord in front of me. When he is by my side, I cannot be moved. That is why my heart is glad and my soul rejoices. My body rests securely because you do not abandon my soul to the grave or allow your holy one to decay. You make the path of life known to me. Complete joy is in your presence. Pleasures are by your side forever." Psalm 16

Ugly Stitches

Nobody told me when Finn joined Rainbows last fall that sewing would be involved.

Each new verse he memorized, each new stage he conquered, brought a badge into our home that needed to be sewn onto a (very ugly) vest.

I hadn't sewn anything since 8th grade Home Ec.

Here was another situation in which it would be painfully obvious that I do not excel at very many mom-like capabilities.

However, when the time came, I reached way back into my 13 year old brain and recalled how to work the needle and thread.

I have to admit, when that first badge stayed on, I was pretty proud of myself. I shook the vest, actually a little surprised that it was secure. If one were to look solely at the front of the vest, my work was pretty good! The badge was firmly in place and securely held. It even looked kind of nice, like I knew what I was doing.

But, oh, the back of the vest.

That was where my struggle was on full display. The thread was all over the place. There was no order to any of the thread placement; it was ugly, just truly ugly. Each time I pricked my finger with the needle or shouted in frustration at the thread getting knotted again was spelled out clearly in the chaos that erupted on the back of the vest.

The front of the vest served to remind me that I had conquered sewing and it brought to mind each time Finn's face would light up when he saw another badge on his vest. He was so proud, and I was so proud.

The back of the vest made me feel embarrassed and a little ashamed that I wasn't adept at this critical mom-task.

Front of the vest? Kind of pretty and put together. It made me feel proud and accomplished.
Back of the vest? All over the place. It made me feel shame and guilt.

People can be similar.

In life, it can be so desirable to only show the front side of our vest. We will put our gifts and our honors on display, hoping that no one catches sight of the ugly underbelly where all the sweat and screams poured forth.

The process to progress is chaotic.

On the surface, where most people can see, we are held together and polished; a new badge gets added to our vest of life and we beam with pride because we worked hard for that.

But if one were to lift back that vest a little, do a little digging, they would see that keeping those badges in place was not that simple. They would see the chaos of our stitches and suddenly know that the journey to the badge was not always pretty.

The gifts we have rarely make obvious the struggles that helped them blossom along the way.

Maybe you're deeply compassionate.....because you've known deep pain.
Maybe you exercise great wisdom.....because you've been on the receiving end of great foolishness.
Maybe you make others feel good about themselves.....because you know what it's like to feel unvalued.

Perhaps the stitches that hold your badges, or gifts, in place had to be torn out a couple times and begun again. Maybe they are all over the place and the path the needle took doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Maybe your thread had to be reinforced several times before the gifting stayed secure.

You might be the only one who ever knows. After all, those ugly stitches are mostly reserved for the back side of the vest.

Can I encourage you, though, to show your ugly stitches too?

Let your gifts and honors be on full display! They need to be seen. Never try to hide what God has ignited in you to do.

But don't hold your vest so tightly to yourself that no one knows about your ugly underbelly. Let others see your struggles, your pain, your weakness. Your ugly stitches might help someone feel better about their own.

Beautiful, gifted front side or painful, shameful back side, it is all the handiwork of God.

We are not perfect, but His work in us is.

How to See Others

We all feel a little invisible from time to time. Whether we're drowning in schoolwork or diapers or meetings, sometimes the things that we love and work hard for are the very same things that cause us to feel a little erased.

We can be in a crowd of thousands and still not feel seen.

Encouragement is an act of seeing others. 

I used to be afraid to encourage others. It felt uncomfortable and awkward. I would see all of these wonderful, amazing things about other people, but would not speak it out. It felt like risking too much to speak it out; it exposed my inner world in a way that made me feel too vulnerable.

The older I get and the more I go through my own seasons of feeling invisible, the more I realize the absolute necessity of encouragement. Encouragement is a breath of fresh air, a hand lifting another up, and a salve for a hurting soul. The right word at the right time can make all the difference.

I have come to know the truth that when I see something awesome in another person, it is not mine to withhold, but a gift to give.

"Watch the way you talk. Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift." - Ephesians 4:29

When I see something great in someone else but choose to withhold it, it only makes me feel smaller. It makes me pick myself apart more, not less.

But when I speak it, it expands my ability to love and be loved. The more I do it, the easier it becomes.

"So then, we must pursue what promotes peace and what builds up one another." - Romans 14:19

My boys are learning the art of encouragement and it can get pretty hilarious at times! So hilarious in fact, that they serve as excellent examples of encouragement that doesn't exactly encourage.

The other day Finn said to me, "Mommy, you're the prettiest girl...in our family."

I laughed at his sweetness and said, "I'm the only girl in our family!" He just shrugged his shoulders. His heart was in the right place, but the encouragement fell a little short. It was honest and well-intentioned, maybe a little too honest? It was kind, but didn't exactly help me feel special. I believe true encouragement calls out something specific in another person. It recognizes gifts and goodness that God put into a person, and for a moment it is seeing a person through God's perspective, with all of the hope and purpose and love with which He packaged them.

Now Jonas, my little sweetheart in every sense, is a natural encourager. It is a gifting I already see growing in him. Any time I give him a compliment, he shoots it right back to me. This is a daily occurrence in our home:
"Jonas, you're the best boy in the whole world!" (I say this to all my boys...sssssh!)  And without fail, Jonas smiles back, "You're best boy in the whole world too, Mommy!"

Uhhhh, thanks?! Encouragement like this rings a little insincere. It is spouted off quickly with little thought or intention. It can almost make the receiver feel like the person saying it doesn't really know her at all.

Then there's Ezra. He's a baby, so he doesn't talk yet :) . But for example's sake, he doesn't encourage others at all. Every positive thing about other people is met by him with silence. This is the very worst kind of encouragement because it is that which is not spoken. It is the kind that festers within the mind of the one who could have given a great gift. The encouragements that are not spoken block the light from entering someone's day.

What isn't spoken out, dies with you.

Fortunately, my boys have a phenomenal daddy to teach them. A few weeks ago, Matt stayed home with the boys while I had a full day of counseling groups and a women's leadership meeting. I popped in to nurse Ezra, then popped right back out. He was in charge of every meal, every diaper change, every mess clean up.

When I walked in the door that night, he's collapsed on the couch. He looks at me with tears coming to his eyes and says, "I don't know how you do it. I could never be a stay at home dad. You love us so well, and you do such an amazing job caring for our boys. Even when you think you don't handle situations well and get frustrated too easily, that's not true at all. You are very patient. I appreciate you so much."

His words were so sincere and specific, my heart melted in a puddle and tears came to my own eyes as well. You can tell encouragement is accurate and timely when it shows all over the receiver's face. All I could say in response was, "Thank you. That means so much to hear!"

I felt more seen that day than I had in a long time.

I encourage you to encourage others, as kind thoughts about them enter your mind, speak them. Let the person know that you see them.

You might just change someone's day.

"Show family affection to one another with brotherly love. Outdo one another in showing honor." - Romans 12:10