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Category: Just Writing!
{Church Girl Funk | Yeah. It happens.}
Can you imagine having actually walked with Jesus — for real, dirt between your toes and robes flapping in the wind, walked with Him? What must it have been like to feel His hand, His actual God-made-flesh hand on your shoulder? I wonder what his voice sounded like? And to hear Him call your name aloud? I can’t even. So, let’s just move on.
God in His wisdom saw fit for me to be here. Now. And, I’m good with that. I suppose I had the best-case-scenario as kid. See, I’m a church girl. I grew up as a pastor’s kid, so from a young age I was taught about God. I knew about Jesus and the Gospel. The importance of Scripture was ingrained in me from a young age. (Anyone else get a tiny New Testament/Psalms Bible when you were but a wee newborn?) We went to church every time the doors were open, at least three times each week. I learned to memorize Scripture, sing worship tunes, to work hard serving others and the church. I knew all the rules. And, for the most part, I kept them religiously. Church girl. To the core. The gratitude I feel for my best-case-scenario knows no bounds. Truly, I am grateful. Here’s the thing: Sometimes, it seems my inner church girl is at a disadvantage. Let’s be real, the privilege of hearing the Gospel Sunday after Sunday means that my exposure to the story was through the roof. The familiarity of the story meant reciting it was as easy and natural as breathing. Some Sundays, though, hearing it again felt like trudging through deep, thick mud. And, then, I’d be stuck. In a funk.
Ah, yes. The church girl funk. It goes something like this:
I’ve heard the story a million times. Do I really need to study Scripture every day? I’ve sang the song hundreds of times, hands raised to the sky, eyes closed. Do I really need to engage my mind and think about the weight of what I’m singing? I’m a Christ follower. I believe the Gospel. I go to church. I try to be obedient. I serve others. Look at all the things I’m doing for Him.
It’s all familiar. And, when I’m in a church girl funk, I find that I am unaffected by it all. Unmotivated. Unaware. Head down. Shuffling along. Going through the motions. Anyone else?
Thank heavens, God sees me in those moments and comes after me. He reminds me. He engraves the truth ever deeper into my heart. He loves me. And, He wants me to love Him. Jesus tells us, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” (Matthew 22:37) All my fellow church girls know it’s the great commandment. Love Him. Completely.
We can love Him like that because He loved. We rest in the truth that He loved us before we took our first breath. He sent Jesus to live a sinless life, die a sinner’s death as payment for my sin and your sin because of His great love. Why? So that we could know Him and know the depth of His love for us. I don’t know about you, but when I stop and leave space in my day to remember, I am completely in awe. What lavish love! It’s from that place (being loved) that He wants us to love Him back, with all we’ve got.
Yes. I know. You’ve heard it all before. But can we hear it again with fresh ears and a soft heart? Can we sit still with the truth for a hot minute and allow ourselves to be utterly blown away by His love for us? The Creator of the Universe loves you with an unfailing, unfathomable love. We belong to Him. Let that truth frame everything else.
See, I learned the hard way that it doesn’t matter what we do for Him if our hearts aren’t motivated by our love for Him. He didn’t tell us “If you want to be a good church girl, obey me, serve me, work for me.” No. He said, “If you love me, obey me.”
If you find yourself in a church girl funk, start there. Love Him completely and then let everything else be a demonstration of that love. But above all, be loved by Him. And to do that, sweet friends, you don’t have to do anything at all. It’s already done. Just breathe it in. He. Loves. You.
Now, go. Go and do the things He’s put in front of you to do. Love the person that He’s asking you to love even if they are completely impossible. Lay down the thing He’s asking you to lay down. And know that He has you in the palm of His hand, loving you wildly every moment along the way.
{Letters to my daughter} {No. 3}
Sweet Girl,
When you leaned over and whispered, “I don’t think she believes in me” I was a tiny bit caught off guard. I know that feeling. It’s a terrible feeling! I am sorry that something happened to make you believe that. I get it. Truth be told, I would probably feel exactly the same way if that thing happened to me.
But, I have to tell you something. Lean in and listen carefully. It’s important.
I believe in you.
Always. No matter what. I believe in you when you have a good day. I believe in you when you have a bad day. I believe in you when you are at your best. I even believe in you when you aren’t your best. You are incredibly kind, smart, talented, and beautiful. You are a good, loyal friend. You’re honest. You’re a good big sister. You love Jesus. You’re an awesome volleyball player. And, you’re even a little funny! (Ok, you’re a lot funny!) Should I go on? I could fill an entire page!
Here’s the thing: Those things don’t change based on other people’s opinion.
I know how hard you work. I know how far you have come. I see how much you’ve grown up.
Don’t you dare let what seems like one person’s lack of confidence in you define you. Don’t let that squash out your dreams. Don’t let it disappoint you. Don’t let one person saying no keep you from hearing all the people cheering for you and saying yes!
When you are doing everything that you are supposed to do, let that be enough. Work on the things you have some control over and let the other things become secondary. Take responsibility when you mess up and learn from those mess-ups. Find the people God has placed in your life who want to help you grow and help you reach your dreams. Keep those people close.
I will keep reminding you, in the meantime, that I believe in you. I’m proud of you. I’m here when you need me. And don’t forget — believe in yourself. You have great things in you. No kidding. Great. Things.
Keep going.
Love you, sweet girl.
{Southern Gal Hostess of the Year? Not so much.}
A few weeks ago, it was my Dad’s birthday. (Happy Birthday, Dad!) We decided to have an impromptu gathering to celebrate — at our house. I, being the southern belle that I am, had suggested a nice dinner out. After all, the house was a mess, the fridge was empty, and I was tired. Very tired. But, no. Dinner out wasn’t going to do. There had to be a celebration. For my dad. With other people. And I would host.
So, we came home from Sunday lunch and had a few hours to prep for the party. Any southern gal worth her weight in butter can prep for a party on short notice, right? Um, no. I came home and took a nap. Yes. Fell asleep. In my favorite spot. With my favorite pillow. Don’t judge me!
After my Sunday afternoon nap, the house was still a mess, the fridge still empty, and people were still coming over in an hour. On the way to grocery store, I whined and complained at my lack of preparation. I moaned that I know better than this. Why couldn’t we just take everyone out for pizza? My awesome, superstar, worth-his-weight-in-gold hubby assured me it would be fine. He has a beautiful gift of calm. We scurried through the store like a couple of crazy people. We still had 30 minutes to spare. Then, we realized we forgot the cake. Did I mention we were halfway home at that point? Yikes.
When we pulled in the driveway, we were late. (Now, you can judge me.) Our guests were already there. And so, I did what any other respectable southern gal hostess type would do. I put them to work. What. In. The. World. It’s shameful, I know. Pizza really would have been better. I promise the next gathering at my house will be better. I do have it in me.
Here’s the thing: While I may not have scored high marks this time on the “Southern Gal Hostess of the Year” chart, I still had an opportunity that evening to practice hospitality. It didn’t necessarily look the way I wanted it to look — ok, who am I kidding, It looked nothing like I wanted it to — but, even still, I was being hospitable. See, I’m learning that hospitality is about a heart that says “You are important to me.” I opened my door wide and invited these folks into my mess because they are important. I opened my door wide and made a place here where it was perfectly acceptable to be a hot mess! Because, hello, did you notice? Hot. Mess. Right here.
Opportunities for hospitality will sometimes interrupt our daily routines with no regard for our empty fridge or our mess. But, it’s ok. It really is. I’m learning that there’s more to it than a perfectly executed five-course dinner or beautifully executed party. It’s about leaning in with a tender heart towards the people that God has put in my path. I can be hospitable when I greet the clerk at the grocery store. I can be hospitable when I greet my neighbor with a smile. I can welcome people into our home despite the mess. Why? Because people are important. Hospitality says I see you and you matter. That, my friends, is the kind of southern gal I want to be. One who is worth her weight in butter because hospitality isn’t just something she does, it’s who she is. Kind. Gracious. Warm. Tenderhearted. One who loves others well. That’s what we’re meant to do, isn’t it? Love people. Hospitality starts there.
{Letters to My Daughter} {No. 2}
Sweet Girl,
You wrote me the most lovely letter. Thank you. Because I know you are dying to know — yes, it made me cry! Big. Tears. I didn’t cry just because you said nice things about me and to me. I cried because as a momma it is pretty awesome to see God working in your life.
God used you and your words in that letter to encourage me. That makes my heart swell to the point of bursting. Do you hear me? God used you. Let that sink in.
There are three things I want you to know and remember.
1. Words are powerful. Use them well. Speak life. Speak hope. Speak words of encouragement. Once you release your words, it is impossible to get them back. It’s like squeezing an entire tube of toothpaste out onto a plate and trying to put it back inside the tube. (I used to do that on the first day of school in front of the class. Trying to put toothpaste back into a tube is quite messy!) It’s the same with our words, you know. If used unwisely–carelessly–words hurt, leave scars, cause damage to relationships. And always, always remember your words reveal your heart. Guard your heart and use your words well. Let every word you speak be a reflection of Jesus’ love being perfected in you. The letter you wrote me is a glowing example of what I’m talking about. You spoke life and encouragement to me. What a gift!
2. God will use you. Look around and listen to Him. I am sure when you wrote my letter you didn’t think you were doing anything extraordinary. Yet the words you wrote were exactly the words I needed to hear in that very moment. You should know that there are people around you who need the same kind of gift you gave me–words of life. Can I challenge you to look for them? On purpose. Ask God to use you to encourage someone each day. Ask Him. I promise He will. This is not the first time you’ve used words to encourage. You have a gift of encouragement. Once you wrote an encouraging message to a kid who was a few years younger than you. You leave sweet notes for your siblings and for us. Keep doing that. Remember, you may never know how God uses the words you speak and that’s ok. You just be brave and bold. Be obedient to the voice of the Holy Spirit and speak life.
3. I love you. You are extraordinary. If I could line up all the girls on the planet and pick one to be my daughter, I would choose you. Every single time.
I’m glad you’re my girl. (Even when we’re having a bad day!)
XOXO.
Guest Blogger :: Maddie Grace
My sweet Madeleine asked if she could share a portion of her story here. I was happy to oblige. I am so thankful and grateful for all that God is doing in her life.
Hi everyone!! I’m Maddie, and in 8th grade Bible this year, we were given the assignment to write milestone moment speeches. Basically what these are is you think of a time in your life where you felt God working in you. I shared my speech with the class and many people were inspired. I hope that my story can help inspire you as well. Hopefully it’s good 🙂
I’m just an average girl, I live with my mom and my stepdad and honestly, I’m extremely grateful that God has blessed me with such a great Christian family now, but life hasn’t always been easy.
Earlier in my life, I really struggled with the fact that my parents were getting divorced. I was really young at the time, about 3 years old, with a younger brother only a few months old. I don’t remember much, but in the midst of all the arguing and confusion, I do remember feeling really alone.
Things got even more complicated in 2008 when my dad remarried to a woman was abusive to my younger brother and me. I remember her telling me, you’re not beautiful, you’re not worth anything, and she told me I didn’t deserve anything special. Being only 8 years old, it really affected my self-confidence and I remember being in tears most of the nights I spent with my dad and stepmom. To make things more confusing, my dad NEVER took up for me, the man in my life who is supposed to tell me how beautiful and treasured I am, just stood there and let a woman ruin my confidence. But, one night I remember my mom sharing a verse with me that really encouraged me to not care about what the world says about me, but to know that I am God’s masterpiece, created in Christ to do good works. (Ephesians 2:10)
My relationship with my dad is very damaged because of my stepmom’s influence. I honestly couldn’t trust him anymore, and I still have trouble trusting other people, even if they seem completely innocent. Somewhere in the middle of my broken relationship, I realized that what I needed was a strong relationship with God. I knew that in the book of Psalms it says to call on God and He will rescue me.
So in 2011, I really began to pray and read my Bible and figured out what it means to have a meaningful relationship with God. I especially began to pray that God would work things out with my dad.
In 2012, my dad and stepmom announced that they were getting a divorce. It took them 7 years to realize that their marriage wasn’t healthy. I saw them getting a divorced as an answer to prayer. I thought that maybe, a new, restored relationship with my dad would be made possible. But I was wrong. My dad has continued to make some very bad choices and he recently made a huge mistake that has again, affected my brother and me in a very negative way; but I will definitely keep praying that God will continue to teach me through these tough spots.
God is truly amazing. I’m so grateful that He is always there and I know now that even in the darkest points in life, I can fully trust him no matter what. I’m also very thankful that he gives me opportunities to share my story and show his unconditional love to others.
~Maddie Lewis
But, God.
I am simply overwhelmed at the faithfulness of God. Undone. Blown away.
I was sitting at my piano tonight, just stringing together random chords — not playing anything in particular. I am so grateful for the gift of music that God has given us to use as an expression of our worship. Music is woven into story after story through out Scripture. The first mention of an instrument and musician is in Genesis 4. His name was Jubal. I think that’s SO cool.
The past weekend was full of music. I was invited to play piano for a wedding. Play. And sing. Um, what’s that now? In front of people? Yes. In front of people. Sunday, there was worship. I played keys and sang (at the same time). What’s the big deal? I told people for years, “I play the piano, but not in front of people and not if I’m singing.” Sometimes, I still cannot believe that I do that very thing on a regular basis. But, God knew that I would.
I took lessons when I was younger. When we didn’t have a piano in our home I had to practice at church. I’d go over and practice for awhile. I didn’t like to practice at the church because I wasn’t supposed to turn on all the lights. It was kind of spooky. So, I quit piano lessons and didn’t play much after that for a very long time. There were days I would go over to the church and pull out a songbook, Lift Him Up: Volume 3, and pick through some worship songs. I couldn’t have imagined what God had in store. I did not fully understand what He was pouring into me; nor, did I understand that He was preparing me. Even then. Way back then.
It is remarkable to look back and see the God moments — and to recognize them. There were seasons of my life where there was no song. No music. No worship. Sometimes, even now, I find myself wondering if I’ve missed something. But, God.
But, God was working. He always knew where I was. He surrounded me with people whom He would use to speak life, speak encouragement, to teach and train.
I will never forget the moment I sang my very first song in church. I was young. And it was empty. I would sing along with a cassette tape in the microphone while my parents cleaned. I always picked the microphone with the blue foam cover (or windscreen, if you’re a tech geek). I don’t know if the microphone was on, but it did smell funny. (Now, I know that was the smell of spit!) I remember the moment I sang in front of people. “The sun will come out to-mor-row…” My momma made me do it.
I will never forget the moment that God confirmed the specific calling He had on my life for worship ministry. It’s in me. He put it there.
I will never forget the moment someone referred to me as a musician, a good musician. Wait. What? That’s not how I would describe myself. Sure, she was and is one of my dearest and most favorite friends. But, she has mad skills on the piano. When she said it, it meant something. I may have cried, and she may have poked fun at me. But, still. She spoke life, encouragement.
I will never forget the moment that I played piano while I sang — in front of people. It was my Mamaw’s funeral. I was petrified.
I remember the first time I led worship. I remember the first time I led worship from the piano. That was . . . well, I have no words.
I could go on. Moment after moment. Specifically and divinely designed moments because I am His, and He is mine. He is always, always working. And, He’s promised that He will equip me. And as I played tonight, He reminded me of this: He is for me. He will never leave me. He will never forsake me. He loves me.
But here’s the thing: He loves me because He is love. I have done nothing to earn or deserve His affections. He loved me before I sang my first note or played my first chord. He loved me before I was even born.
That always gets me. Every. time.
That’s why I sing.
Remember that time when . . .
Every now and then, something will happen that reminds me that God is concerned with the details of my life. He is concerned with the details because He has a plan. And I know that The Lord will work out His plans for my life. . . (Psalm 138:8)
I love that. You, too?
Someone asked me not too long ago if I felt called to lead worship. At first, the question caught me off guard and it took me a moment to form words. On the inside, I wanted to jump up and down and scream, ‘Yes!! Of course!!’ But I was able to exercise a bit of self-restraint and answer the question with a simple “Yes!”.
[Sidebar: I just dumped my iPad over onto my wireless keyboard. Of course, it managed to “post” my draft…oops! And, I’m sorry if you received a link to a half-baked, unfinished post!]
I walked away from that conversation feeling encouraged because it seemed someone else recognized that God had a specific calling and plan for my life that involved worship. God always offers encouragement at just the right moment. I needed it that day.
So, I started thinking. I’m writing this to serve as a memorial of one time in particular that God blew me away. A time when He reminded me that He was aware of and concerned with the details. A time when He reminded me (again) that He is working and has always been working.
He gave me a piano. A brand new (off the showroom floor), beautiful piano. Delivered, free of charge. I had a beautiful baby grand piano, but I was going to have to sell it. The baby grand was purchased used a few years earlier. I rarely played the piano during that season of life, but found comfort in knowing it was there. (Weird, right?) I was going through the painful process of divorce, downsizing from a giant house to a tiny house. Space was limited; the baby grand piano simply would not fit. I tried to figure out a way that I could use it as the kitchen table, but that just seemed like a bad idea. Besides, the kitchen was too small! I was sad.
I called and left a message with the piano dealer asking if they would be willing to broker a deal on my behalf or even take the piano back. When they called me back, I hesitated to answer. I simply did not want to talk about it in that moment. I answered anyway.
“Mrs. Lewis, we would be glad to help you sell the baby grand; but, first let me ask, would you be interested in a trade?”
I had no idea that was an option. Of course I was interested in a trade. I assumed I would get a much less expensive, much smaller piano. We talked a few minutes and arranged for pick-up of the old piano at my old address and delivery of the new piano to my new address. I had no idea what I was getting. The new piano showed up, and I thought there must be a mistake.
It was a brand new, full-size, professional grade, upright piano. Shiny. Beautiful. Perfect. Unbelievable! What’s the big deal, you may be wondering. This new piano was far more valuable when compared than the original value of the piano I traded in. So, if I had walked into the showroom to buy either piano (brand new) the baby grand would have been less expensive (at full cost). Am I making sense? It would be like taking a 10 year old car to the dealer and making an even trade for a brand new 2015 model, When does that happen!?
After the delivery guys left, I sat down at my beautiful, new piano – eyes full of tears, fingers fumbling across the shiny new keys – and was overwhelmed with gratitude. Even though I was too shy to play with people watching, i played for Him.
It would be years before I stepped onto a platform to play while people sat and listened. (Never mind playing and singing or playing and leading worship.) But He saw that moment well in advance. In His perfect faithfulness, He worked out the details like only He could. So, I played (and sang) at my mamaw’s funeral, in honor of her – but still, playing for Him.
Here’s the thing: Not only did He see that moment, He has seen every moment since. And, He’s working out His plans for my life.
I am so thankful that I belong to Him.
Lord, You are my God; I will exalt You and praise Your name, for in perfect faithfulness You have done wonderful things, things planned long ago.” Isaiah 25:1
Don’t Forget to Remember
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite times of celebration. Let’s see – there is turkey, dressing, dumplins, and pumpkin pie. After we feast, we usually spend a bit of time flipping through the newspaper ads, pen in hand, marking our favorite things. Christmas is just around the corner, after all. We play games. We take naps. And, we remember.
I remember Tyler’s first Thanksgiving. He was 7 months old and the life of the party. He most likely had his hands in everyone’s plate getting his first taste of the delicious goodness that is Thanksgiving dinner. I remember the laughter. Lots of laughter.
I remember where I was standing when I received a phone call from the hospital just a few days later. I remember the heaviness in the room when I arrived there. It was suffocating. I remember being told, “He didn’t make it.” It was SIDS.
He. Didn’t. Make. It. The reality of that moment hit me in a way I cannot begin to explain.
I remember walking back to a different room. My eyes landed on my lifeless baby boy and pain pierced me to the very core. It would become a familiar pain. I wept while I begged God to “fix it.”
I remember walking away from that hospital without my baby. I can tell you it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.
I remember losing a second child 15 months later. I remember my marriage falling apart. I remember being angry, confused, and feeling completely abandoned by God. The pain was relentless and I crumbled.
I also remember the moment I gave up and laid all the brokenness and pain at the feet of Jesus. I remember the moment He turned my mourning (YEARS of mourning) into joy.
And, I am so thankful.
I belong to a sovereign, perfect, faithful God. I am completely in awe of Him. He heals. He redeems. He restores. There is not one moment of my life when He has taken His eye off of me. (Or you!) He sees us. He loves us. Even in our darkest, most desperate moments. I know that now.
I know it.
So, don’t forget to remember. Remember who He is and what He has done. Remember the cross. Remember His lavish love and perfect grace. And in everything, give thanks…That can be a hard one to take in and live out until we remember Christ. Then suddenly even our most difficult moments pale in comparison to the pain and suffering He endured. For the glory of the Father and for us.
Honor to Whom Honor is Due
This is my Dad.
Today is his 60th birthday. Woo-Hoo! Hooray! So, I am writing this one for him – to honor him and to remind him that he is loved beyond measure.
Dear Dad, you are one of my heroes. I am thankful that God picked me to be your daughter. I admire your strength and courage. I admire your perseverance. You have shown me what it means to love and care for others above yourself. Even those who may have hurt you or mistreated you. You have shown me how to be bold and courageous. I’m not speaking of a boldness that is brazen and arrogant or a courage that is proud. It’s a boldness and a courage that come from a place of humility. I’ve watched you make mistakes and get back up. I’ve watched you say “I’m sorry” or “I was wrong” or “I need help.” You taught me that it is ok to be imperfect and that God’s grace is greater than all my weakness.
Thank you for raising me to understand who Jesus is and what He came to do. Thank you for loving Him and putting Him first in your life and teaching us to do the same. Thank you for teaching me the importance of worship and the power of prayer. I used to creep over to the church office to steal your ink pens and hear you praying, you know. Sometimes, I would hang back and listen, realizing that I had stumbled upon a holy moment. Sometimes I would run off determined to come back and steal an ink pen later. You had the best ink pens!
Thank you for teaching me how to laugh. Now, little brother and I are funnier than you. Thanks for teaching me how to shoot a basketball, grab a rebound, and pass a volleyball. Thank you for telling me to sing. To work hard. To write. To love BIG.
Thank you for believing in me. For praying for me. For loving me unconditionally. For being my biggest fan. For having tough conversations with me. For speaking truth and wisdom into my life. And now, you do all those things for my husband and my children. We are blessed beyond measure to have you near.
We love you. We honor you. We celebrate you. We are so very grateful for all that you are. You are one cool-smooth-God-fearing dude. And we are all the better for it!
Happy 60th birthday, Dad.
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