Sunday, June 19, 2022

Amen (and so let it be)

"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you,
because he trusts in you." - Isaiah 26:3

Many years ago, I had the opportunity to learn from a professional artist how to paint using pastels. For the first time I began to explore the concept of painting in layers, starting with using pencil to draw some basic shapes and then a bottom layer of paint that focused on the contrast of basic light and dark, then gradually adding more layers of warm and cool tones. The details of recognizable shapes and brighter colors came more towards the end. Sometimes there was even a watercolor underpainting to start it all that looked almost bizarre. Only a true artist would be able to understand what it was they were working towards at these beginning stages or see the endless potential for the final touches at the end.

I have realized that God has been in the business of pastel painting, except as soon as I think the painting has to be almost finished, it is like it becomes an underpainting all over again. He is teaching me the same themes over and over but in different ways and with a different kind of perspective and renewed clarity. He is just building a new layer on top of another layer.

I am also aware that there is always this incredible arc of a story that God is writing. (Can you tell I love metaphors?) I heard an incredible songwriter say recently that sometimes we just get too close to our canvas to be able to see the bigger picture, and that sometimes we need help from our community in order to step back for a clearer perspective.

I like to think about this in terms of what I call, the “real real”. I feel like what we experience on earth only allows us glimpses, foreshadowing if you will, into the bigger purposes of our Creator and Father God. It is a dim reflection of what is to come. We forget that our time here is so miniscule in light of eternity, and yet so important at the same time.

It has been a very difficult weekend as many of us honored the life of a dear friend who loved other people so passionately and inclusively. The end of her life was heartbreaking for those who were close to her story and in the middle of her struggles and pain.

As Devon’s body failed her, I often thought of various images of water and sailboats. One day when we were listening to music, I ended up drawing a picture in her journal, and once when I was praying for her, the Lord put on my heart, “I work beneath the surface”. A month ago, she told me she kept seeing the sailboat image everywhere, even in places she never noticed before. There’s a line in the song “Promises” by Maverick City Music that says, “though the storms may come and the winds may blow, I’ll remain steadfast”. I never want to forget watching her worship in her wheelchair, on the couch, or in a hospital bed to these songs with such faith-filled lyrics. Worship music filled her sails.

The truth is, she probably felt like she was drowning. Countless times, she was literally struggling to breathe. And when she needed it the most, she would be surrounded by those who carried her in faith, reminding her that she was a beloved child of God and could trust Him even when she was fighting for her life. She wanted every day she could get and had plans to live. But only God knows the whole story. He is the author of all of our endings.

Every time I encounter suffering or death, I feel like there is a Dr. Strange-like portal that opens that gives us a glimpse into something that might be “more real” than what we are currently experiencing. It offers me the opportunity to step back from the canvas and look at the bigger picture. It is deeper than just asking, “why, God?” and trying to process pain that doesn't make sense. In the middle of grief, we can marvel at not understanding His ways while also still trusting that His promises are still true. It is a reminder that eternity is ultimately our destination and we have a home prepared for us who believe. It is the beautiful, painful truth that life on earth is full of suffering and loss, but God is still good.

So no matter what comes our way, are we ready to trust Him enough to say, “So let it be”?

In this journey, there are so many opportunities to wonder about the what ifs and all the things we could have done differently. It is too easy to become overwhelmed by failure and regret and unfinished business. We often feel like there is plenty of time to figure it out or finish what we want to do, but that time isn’t promised to us.

The good news is there is an Author who has already written our stories. They are beautiful, painful, heart-breaking, yet still full of miracles-on-miracles and joy. Jesus finished His work on the cross so that our “endings” are not final. Even our mistakes, our constant battle with shame, our fears and failures…He took care of all of it through Jesus and gave us an eternal epilogue. In the end, He doesn’t ask us to have perfect faith, perfect theology, or make all the right decisions. He doesn’t ask for a good performance or to check a list of religious boxes. He asks for our trust and our surrender and offers us mercy and eternal love in return. He has prepared a place for us in eternity to continue our relationship with Him. Face to face forever.

Maybe we will see that His light, our Living Hope, is shining in our hearts even now in our darkest hours. He is with us now and forever, Emmanuel, Prince of Peace. He is Jireh, more than enough.

Maybe we can learn to let go of the façade and learn to breathe again, His way. Believing that He redeems EVERYTHING and He isn't afraid to deal with any seemingly impenetrable or horrifically unfinished part of us with mercy and cover us in His grace. Maybe it is time to be okay with who we are as works in progress, accept His love for us, and let Him be King.

For those of you who have read this to the end, I finished writing a song over the weekend and made a very raw recording. You could call this blog post the "story behind the song". You can find the song here: https://youtu.be/uThtJWUGBqM



(Learning to paint with pastels, circa 2011)

Sunday, April 24, 2022

What Comes Next

A lot has happened since the last time I wrote a blog post, but rather than beginning where I left off seven years ago, I am going to jump right into the present.

I am currently a homeschool mom and music teacher, but I stepped into church music at a very young age. I have always had the heart of a worshiper and an artist. I love experiencing God and expressing gratitude and awe in an intimate way. Often, I have felt uncomfortable on a stage but always experienced freedom in my own personal moments of worship and prayer and biblical study. I have always desired to merge those honest private moments with ones that could be shared and experienced with others, so I naturally fell into leadership roles within the church. Throughout my childhood and into college and adulthood, I continued to grow in my knowledge and faith, through experiences in different church communities, and in all kinds of life circumstances. For me, worship music was a huge part of how I fit into the church community and was massively important for the soundtrack of my own life.

About two years ago I stepped down from my church position as worship leader and eventually away from the church institution altogether. There was no dramatic exit. We just stopped, for many different reasons. Our family has not aligned ourselves with an organized church since then.

It has taken awhile to let everything sink in: how much the church institution spoke into or influenced my identity, my role, and my purpose; and how walking away reshaped my Christian community, revealed the authenticity of these relationships, broadened my understanding of my spiritual gifts (even while sacrificing the visibility and posturing of them), and clarified what I think and feel about the modern church establishment and how it functions...and doesn't. After 25 years of being on a stage with an instrument and microphone, I am now on a totally different path in the discovery of who I am meant to be as a part of the Church with a capital C, the family of God.

A friend of mine called this type of journey away from the mainstream church a "narrow path". I picture it much like a walk in the woods on the trails by my house. There is no fanfare or glory, no stage, no title, no recognition, no audience, nothing that could be labeled as a performance in it, nothing fancy, and not as much company. But the good news is that things are pretty much real and much more intimate out here in the woods. I feel like God is much more reachable in the forest than he is with a stage and lights. He is also more real in hospital rooms and in walks on the beach or coffee dates with dear friends. I can see the real real so much more vividly, the goodness of God and His purposes for me and the people I truly love like family.

I find I am more dependent on God outside of the institution, and honestly, more deeply challenged. There is plenty to do within the church, but I felt limited in what I was allowed to be, where I could be, and how I could be me. There was lots of tiptoeing and uncertain protocols. Now, there is so much more freedom to simply rely on God to show me how to invest in those around me, learning how to freely BE the Church rather than DO church and follow its rules. My priority becomes making time to listen to what the Holy Spirit is putting on my heart, through others as well as His Word. I am developing relationships with others that are built on deep conversation and authenticity, not just a common agenda or production. It matters much less that I can make music and more that I practice loving well. Music is just one of the many tools I have to do that, although people seem to prefer to identify me by that one. 

What I've realized is that in most church establishments, it is all too easy for everyone to appear to be on the same page and assume everything is okay...because we are all doing the same things and listening to the same songs and speeches. But just because you are sitting in church with all the appearance of godliness, on the stage or off, doesn't mean you have the power and presence of God in your life. Just because you know words to songs, faithfully do daily devotions and prayer groups, or can preach a message people appreciate doesn't mean you are healthy or mature or even growing, spiritually or otherwise. It doesn't mean you can actually trust those around you. We all know this I think, but since it looks like everything is okay on the surface, we keep thinking that what we are doing must be working. But the truth is that the church is failing. 

It has been painfully easy to see how the church institution has and continues to fail those in and outside of its walls. I started writing this before Hillsong church crumbled before our eyes. Dysfunctional spiritual leaders are EVERYWHERE... in small churches too, the bigger ones just make more noise when they crash. The most painful situations don't always have to be the most obviously criminal, but could be ones that involve betrayal, trust that is shattered, words that tear down, or behaviors that are passive aggressive. It also isn't limited to those who have been placed in positions of power. It is permeating the church at every level, and often we turn a blind eye to it. The church becomes a place where people become wounded and sometimes have to leave in order to find healing.

I truly don't hate the church institution. I am mostly saddened. However, I still see value for the kingdom of God even despite its failures. Organized church has the potential to make a positive impact in communities and individual lives. We still see God using His people even in our imperfection and dysfunctionality. The church is still a picture of His grace, mercy, and love. He promises to work in us and through us, even despite us. People are still finding God and the truth of His Word in many church institutions, and some even find themselves a "church family".

Even still, it doesn't mean that people in church are being real with each other. It doesn't mean those inside the walls are growing into mature followers of Christ, deeply encouraging one another and being held accountable to each other in loving, honest relationships. It doesn't mean they aren't susceptible to selfish ambition and destructive, dysfunctional behavior. If I'm being transparent, I think it often means those very things are glossed over, totally ignored, or even excused in a way that's not tolerated even in secular systems. We don't know how to address our own problems appropriately, so we avoid or hide them hypocritically or sometimes just justify them! I think often it is harder to recognize when you are in the middle of it...or if you do, nobody else wants to hear about it.

Some of us are ready to take a step away from a failing institution whose human agenda, divisive power structures, unqualified leaders, immaturity and superficiality are too far removed from biblical directives and sometimes common sense to align ourselves with anymore. We are tired of the idolatry of leaders and the segregation of congregants who are diminished in authority and value.  We are done with the illusion that everything is okay when it's broken, and tired of trying to speak out when no one will listen.

I don't pretend to have a solution for the current state of the American church, although I do care and am deeply passionate about this amazing thing the Bible calls my family and the body of Christ. Is it possible that the church could be transformed somehow, through divine renovation? I think some are hoping for it. Personally, I wouldn't be upset if the entirety of the institution just died. If we canceled church culture, would we as a body find our trust in a Savior again? Would we actually recognize Jesus as the head of His Church instead of a pastor? Would we rely on the Holy Spirit to speak to us instead of exclusively other people? Would we learn to find our value in who God says we are instead of our service or performance? And would we learn to trust each other for encouragement and maybe become emotionally strong, physically healthy, and spiritually mature together? 

For me, I may no longer believe in obligation or responsibility to an institution or in anyone's expectations, but that doesn't mean I am excused from being in genuine Christian relationship with others or doing the things God is calling me to do. Just because I don't agree with the current structure and operation of the Christian church in America (which is a whole other topic I might write about) doesn't excuse me from continuing to be the Church. In fact, it feels like it's calling me deeper into relationship, deeper into exploring His Spirit living in me.

The Church is never going to be perfect, but God isn't asking us for that. He doesn't ask me to have perfect faith or perfect anything. He doesn't ask me to figure it all out, fix it, or try to redo it over again using my influence. He just wants me to surrender my own understanding and my illusion of control, trusting that His plan is the better one. It actually ends up being quite simple, although not necessarily easy: "I don't know how this is supposed to go. God, what do you have for me today?" The even harder part could be what comes next. 

Amen (and so let it be)

"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you." - Isaiah 26:3 Many years ago, I had the opp...