The Miracle of an Ordinary Wednesday

Every first Wednesday of the month, a miracle happens at New Life. And it happens at New Life Next Worship.

It’s not because of the food, and the picture taking, and the mingling that takes place at 6:30pm; though the food is awesome (the cheese dip and bacon club spirals are legendary) and the fellowship with pastor’s and leaders at NLC is actually why we’re encouraged to be there. New New Lifer’s and longtime attendees come together and we get a chance to know their faces, their stories... their names. But around 6:50 or so the gathering shifts in tone and everyone comes into the chapel so Pastor Brady can begin communicating the vision, the story, and the heart of New Life Church. 

Because of other obligations that often tie up my Wednesdays, there have been several times I can’t make it over to that chapel until around 7pm or so. By this time, our staff is often seated outside, finally getting to eat their own plates and catch up with peers. As others duck out I like to sneak in and grab a seat on the back row. I’ve heard the bullet points, the stories, and the mission at least half a dozen times. But every time, every. single. time I fall in love with New Life all over again as I hear Pastor Brady talk. 

I guess it’s good that I love my church. I consider it my greatest joy to serve the kids and families of our fellowship through worship. But I know that’s because my love for New Life goes far deeper than the institution from which I receive a paycheck, or the church that I would attend even if I didn’t.

New Life is my family. That happened at a New Life Next a couple years ago. See, after the food, the fellowship and the vision comes the invitation... this is when the tears start rolling for me. Every first Wednesday of the month we invite people to join our family. We invite people into our worship, our brokenness, our tears, our triumph. In Psalm 68 it says that God “sets the lonely in families.” There is a multitude hurting, broken people in this world... a fact we all know. But Heaven breaks open a bit on the first Wednesday of the month and some of those hurting, broken people are set in family. It’s not a decision that we encourage people to make lightly. It’s the stuff of the kingdom.

And it’s real. I know because there have been Wednesdays when I have come to New Life just to hear it all again. Like a child coming to the dinner table to be reminded that she belongs, to hear the same old family story that has been told 100 times over, to be reminded that she’s a part of it all. I didn’t really have that foundation before I came here, so I treasure the miracle, I’m amazed by it, and I’m thankful for it.

This week I am learning a lot about my New Life family: about how they pray for me, and walk with me through the moments when I need them the most. I am continually overwhelmed by the people God has put in my life... It’s a miracle. A miracle that began on the first Wednesday of the month at New Life Next.

today I choose to be glad.

Yesterday I was talking to my friend who went to the Chris Tomlin concert on Wednesday night. She was given a last minute opportunity to use a free ticket and I had “jokingly” whined about her good fortune since finding out. But we all know in those moments that “joking” is probably laced with some real, even if minor, jealousy. I had asked around if anyone had an extra ticket, and I was pretty bummed when I didn't end up going but somehow... I lived through it.

Last night though, after a good 24 hours of moping I said to Angela, “I’m glad for you,” and then I paused and added with a sheepish smile, “because I choose to be glad.” She mocked me a bit for my tagline and even said it was tweet worthy. But the more I thought about it, I realized I meant what I said, and that my comment rang true not just for this minor instance, but for some current situations that are a lot more life altering.

We could get into a talk about comparing... but let’s face it, we all do it, and mentally we all realize it’s not helpful or healthy. But most of us still struggle with it in one way or another because we’re human and built within our human nature is a dissatisfaction with what we have and a desire for more. We were made for more.

I’ve been asking a lot of questions lately. Some have been rooted in a desire to clean out my own heart. Others, though, have originated because I feel like I see some level of injustice in situations that very much effect me. Injustice is hard to sit with. I also think that injustice pins us right up against jealousy. And the jealousy that would love to rise up in me comes directly from a fear that at the end of the day I will not have enough.

Fear. That faithful robber of faith. A joy stealer. A liar.

This week alone that fear has caused me to question the very things that normally bring me joy. And if the enemy can get me to lose my joy.. in my job and in ministry, he’s won in more ways than I’d ever like to give him victory.

So what’s the answer? Well, yesterday my answer was to choose to be glad. Because I really am happy for my friend. If going to that concert was something I wanted to do, and if it turned out to be amazing, I should be thrilled that she got to experience it. And not just in that situation, but in some others where I get to see really great people experience new opportunities and blessings.

We as the body have the privilege and the call to rejoice with those who rejoice. What situation in your life can you choose to be glad about today? Whether it seems minor or massive, take your eyes off injustice and fear and exchange it for joy. I think you’ll be amazed at how quickly your own blessings come back into focus.

Where they should be.

my dear (and Chris Tomlin seeing) friend Angela

My Unspiritual Thoughts About Worship. (Part 2)

God showed up on Sunday. But then again, He does every week. We welcome Him, we expect Him, and it’s our intention that everything we do on the platform merely sets the tone for Him to be center stage.

I feel the weight of responsibility every Sunday. Not because I think it’s my “job” to get kids to hear God or “create a moment.” Ugh. No. The very thought of that resting in my control makes me cringe as I write. I’m thankful. We aren’t leading kids into something we create on a Sunday… it’s about leading out of a revelation of who God is. Our kids are savvy these days. The best way to get them to connect with and believe in a God they can’t see, is for them to see modeled real, intense, messy worship by someone they can. To show it to them, and explain it to them. That’s when they start to get it, and want it themselves. And when they want it, they’ll break down a few walls and actually get into it… without the Holy Spirit knocking them over.

That happened Sunday in BASE56. It’s the kind of thing you pray about but halfway through a sound check gone awry, you apologize to God and tell Him maybe next week you’ll get it good enough for Him to move. I think sometimes God must take us up on the challenge we don’t even realize we give Him.

And He moves. And kids start jumping and singing on Mercy is Falling. And the mercy and the grace and the joy that it speaks of in the song begins to palpably fill the room. And you see that it’s not about every kid breaking out in revival dance, but about the few that do that usually don’t and the changed hearts you can see on faces that normally scowl. And it’s so. so. fun.

And that’s where some throw on the brakes.

Worship is fun. When I describe a specific worship service as such I’m not under-spiritualizing the encounter. To me, there is no greater joy than seeing 5^th and 6^th graders catch it. I want worship to be every kid’s favorite part of Sunday morning. It’s not an effort to pad my ego, it’s a hope that they meet God and are rocked by it.

I tend to say “it was so fun,” a lot around here. If you watched the kids worship at Family Worship Night you know why. Because that joy unspeakable that won’t go away is contagious, and beautiful, and just so fun to watch. Because it’s real. And if we are raising up worshipers and sowing deposits… that’s what I want them to get.

My unspiritual thoughts about Worship. (Part 1)

Tomorrow, I’m going to actually tell you my unspiritual idea, but today I’m going to build a little context.

Here at New Life, we split our kids into kinderBASE (4&5 year olds), BASE12 (1^st and 2^nd grade), BASE34 and BASE56. I have the great privilege and responsibility of overseeing the worship in all those rooms. So on any given Sunday, I usually lead about 6 sets of worship with everything from tracks to live band. Lately my schedule has been something like this.

7:45am- BASE56 Band Practice

8:15am- BASEWorship Motions Practice

9:05am- BASE12 Worship (tracks)

run from upstairs over to the tent (and if you’ve ever seen this, or been run over by me, you know that literally… I sprint.)

9:25am- BASE56 Worship (Live Band)

run from tent back upstairs

9:50am- kinderBASE Worship (tracks)

and then I do it all over again in the second service.

It’s an exhausting morning. But it’s also my absolute favorite time of the week.

Crazy schedules, lots of running, and getting to jump and sing with a thousand kids is not why I do what I do. The reason I lead Kids Worship is because I passionately believe that kids can engage God. I believe in the heavy responsibility to train up the next generation of worshippers now, at elementary age. Kids can experience God, hear God, know God, and fall in love with worshipping God and because of that, I run fast, jump high, and yell and sing a lot on Sunday mornings. It’s about making deposits.

I took over worship in BASE56 this summer and for the sake of honesty I’m going to be vulnerable. It’s been the most uncomfortable, stretching, frustrating experience I’ve had in leading worship at New Life. For two years I’ve been really great at leading singing and hand motions for kids 4^th grade and under. But this venue is new, and hard, and there’s real live musicians playing instruments in a real live band. And I’m leading them. Which means that I’m working with… musicians. If that didn’t make me insecure enough, I’m also leading a bunch of insecure 10 & 11 year olds, most of whom are afraid to do anything less than what is cool and comfortable. Whereas a 2^nd grader will jump if I jump, yell if I yell and kneel when I kneel... A 5^th grader looks at his friends and will stay seated if they do, she won’t jump if the girl next to her doesn’t, and they will only kneel if the Holy Spirit walks up and pushes them over (ok… that might be exaggerating). In the midst of all of that, I love these kids. And I love leading them in worship. I love the challenge. I love dreaming about what could flow out of that room. And I love seeing little shift, kids taking steps. I love that the Holy Spirit is present and working.

We just took a brief break from live band in “56” for September. There wasn’t some big spiritual reason for doing this, it was simply because it was impossible to logistically come up with a band of musicians every week. This last week we relaunched live band. And the band was incredible. When we came together for practice I was so blown away I was convinced that the DBand had been reincarnated in the bodies of the people on the stage.

Not.

Band changes don’t happen in one Sunday… but God changes do.

(To be continued tomorrow… )

today.

today could have, should have, would have been my graduation day.

today's the day i could have made a lot of people proud. today's the day i should have been working toward since i first stepped foot on the VFCC campus. today's the day that i would have beaten all the odds stacked against me.

but today i worked at new life. today i babysat the andersons. today i did pneumatology correspondence homework. today i took a coffee break with a friend.

today looked a lot different than all the dreams i had as i walked through the brick buildings of "the Forge" years ago. armed with my oboe that played me into a scholarship and a name that went before me like a servant opening doors, i believed a new location would spell a change i had yet been unable to write.

no, i wouldn't change going to the Valley Forge. i met people i loved and yet don't speak to with whom i created memories i'll never forget. as i look at those faces on facebook tonight, i'm proud for them. amazed at who they've become. excited for them to experience the heartache and adventure of being an adult..

and i'm unsettled.

3 years ago i went from my birthday party to a hospital room within days. the people i did life with on a daily basis were permanently erased from face to face interaction. i still miss them today and yet wonder if i'll ever hug them again. notably: the instrument i had played almost every day for 9 years never again left it's case.

at the time i thought i was pausing the story. i tried for over a year to go back. you've heard it all before. the children's hospital. in and out, in and out. the accident. coming to New Life. and eventually... experiencing new life.

in my story, "the Forge..." became the was. a failure of my heart both on a physical and spiritual level. not a walk across a platform but a stain on my transcript. that place i could never quite get back to. and thus, part of the story, in all the winning never overcome.

i'm a little melancholy right now. honestly, i think i'm grieving a part of my story that will never quite sit right. my pastor has recently been sharing a lot about a traumatic event, and in reading i realize that much of what i'm feeling makes sense. mostly because what i experienced doesn't.

in the face of all of this: i am unshakably thankful. i am alive, and that alone is a miracle. in March, almost exactly 3 years after leaving the Forge, Jared Anderson (worship leader and father of 4 children i babysit and love) and i led a "Family Worship Night" where the Lord clearly showed me that He saved me from death's clutches, so that i could take off my grave clothes and dance.

and dance i do. i dance, sing, and worship in a way that i hope simply testifies that God's word is final. His words that are for us and love to us.

i know that my story didn't end when my time at the Forge did.

so today i am sad. but today i am also thankful. and the day after tomorrow i'll be in "big church" directing the kids of the New Life Kids Choir in a song about how sweet it is to trust in the One who walks with us through it all.

it is so sweet to trust in Jesus. yesterday that is true. tomorrow that is true.

and today that is true.

day 5. perspective.

i had an interesting conversation yesterday.

day 4. dear,

saturdays are crazy days. i always end saturday scratching my head wondering how the week is beginning again. likewise, i decided that saturday would be a time for reflecting upon where a relationship that i once valued above most others has gone. what i ended up with was a letter. while deeply personal, i have a feeling it would be hard for most to pinpoint the person to whom it's penned-- but there's probably a good chance they may come to this note at some point know. after this experience, i'd encourage anyone to write a letter you never intend to send with all the things you'd never say. powerful schtuff.

dear,

i'm taken with the idea that you're out there accomplishing all your big dreams, and finally, i'm accomplishing mine too. we're running the incredible race, and we're winning. but we aren't winning together. and i think we always thought we would. i want to call you up and tell you about all those big dreams. i want to tell you about the little moments that only you would bear witness as magnificent. and yet, we don't call each other. i smile when i think, if only you knew… and i know you must feel that way too. i think we once believed that we only needed a few more years under our belts, a little bit more maturing, a little bit less of ourselves getting in the way of us. but what we have now is merely the distance.

i'm proud of you.

you're living your life in all the wonderful ways i knew you would. i wish i was bold enough to call you up and tell you that you cross my mind in the moments that i capture. in the seconds where our daydreams are lived in real life. i wish you knew how eloquently my thoughts convey the reality we no longer share. i wish you knew how many times i would give my paycheck to fly and share a cup of coffee.

i wish i knew if you wished the same.

we're older, we're wiser. we're not the same, we're distant. but i think…

you'll always be my the other half of my future i didn't have. even if the days unfold and the future i choose to live looks different than the one we envisioned. you dreamed with me on the darkest days. you were the voice that talked me through the longest nights.

i hope you know that when i look back i see you. but when i look ahead i see you too.

because you believed there was something to look toward. you saw it when i didn't.

i think it's better than either of us could have pictured.

but you aren't in the picture, and somehow i feel like that was the last thing i ever thought would happen.

well, there's that.

todays Christmas song: What Christmas Means to Me (Hanson)

why? because i still contend that this is the best pop Christmas song-- yes. better than *NSYNC. and i know there's lots of naysayers. but it's been on repeat for me and it seriously takes me back to 4th grade. the christmas party. the first time we felt older. the teacher left the class for a few minutes at the end of the day (proof that we were older) and we cranked up the stereo when this song came on. we were all already standing and playing but we all moved around the stereo and danced. it was a wonderful, magical memory.

back when growing up was the achievement, what we longed for.

now.. at this season, how is it that we'd trade it all to be kids again? :)