I almost skipped church today. I'm glad I didn't.

For the last two+ years I've played visitor at various churches. I've visited the church that sent my husband and I out as church-planters more than a decade ago. I've visited churches of varying denominations. The church I've returned to again and again, is the Catholic church, for a very unexpected reason. (Don't have a cow... this is MY experience, not yours.)

Most Protestant churches, even the liturgical ones, are geared toward familiarity, friendliness, and making everyone feel welcome by placing greeters at every entrance, passing out information cards, and having a special time to meet and greet your fellow worshipers at some point during the service.

THIS IS NOT BAD. I get it. In some part of myself (the part that likes fiction and believes there's a lovely little white clapboard community church out there with no ambitions) understands.

Lots and lots of people go to church every week looking for a connection, for fellowship, for welcome and comfort and a sense they are wanted and that they belong. As the worst-ever pastor's wife, I had more than one person in the space of 14 years tell me I failed in that department... I didn't make them feel welcome, or comfortable, or that I was glad they were in attendance.

What they didn't know is that I was literally shaking in my shoes whenever new people crossed the threshold on Sunday morning. Why? Because I'm an introvert. It's how God made me, and it's not a sin. SURPRISE!

Lots and lots of other people are introverts, too, and whether you like it or not, at least a few of them are showing up at your local church on Sunday.

They probably come late. They've figured out the system: if they show up late enough, the greeter-gauntlet has gone into the sanctuary. They've missed half the music, but that's better than being hand-shaked and hugged into a quivering, twitching mess by near-strangers on their way into the building. (BTW: If you ever get a hug from an introvert, it's INTENDED, MEANT, and VALUABLE, FYI.)

And they probably leave early. I've spent a good portion of many services scoping out ways to escape without having to interact with fellow worshipers who would want to know my name, where I was from, if I was visiting, where I went to church, my Social Security number, and my blood type. No, I know, they were just trying to make me feel welcome. I bear them no ill will. Really!

Some people go to church expressly out of obedience to God's command that we not forsake the gathering together with other believers. We're not looking for friends (we already have them), a substitute family (we're probably there to pray for the family we already have), or a place and position in an organization.

That's why, while I am in limbo between church homes, I keep returning to various Catholic Masses. It's the only introvert-friendly church I've come across. And the focus of the Mass, as far as I've seen. is on Christ alone, period, without apology. Some Scripture readings, a few recited prayers I have no argument with, and a significant part of an hour spent concentrating on the broken body and shed blood of the Son of God. It's not the music, or the personality of the preacher, or the hip and catchy video  announcements, or the cushy chairs (OMG, is there anything more uncomfortable than a wooden pew and a kneeler?).

I know what you're thinking... I have too many loved ones and friends who've been burned by Catholicism to surmise that it's an ideal religion. That's why I haven't gone beyond attending mass and sitting complacently in the back with the divorcees and un-confessed who can't partake of communion (thankfully, I know I can have communion with my Lord by means of a Cheerio and grape juice, as the need arises).

But at the same time, I wish, foolishly, there was a way to participate, to join in, without signing on man's dotted line, without swearing fealty to the denomination, without silently agreeing with every doctrine by virtue of membership, without having to suppress my innate introvertedness in order to make it into the parking lot without feeling uncomfortable.

Is there hope? Yes.
As I was reminded this morning at Mass...
LOVE IS THE GREATEST COMMANDMENT.
Love God.
Love your neighbor.
Love yourself.

Funny how that last one is the hardest to follow, and how the innately introverted struggle with it the most. Go to church... wherever you can, wherever you are able to worship freely. God loves His introverted children just as much as He loves the extraverted ones! Of that, I am positive!

That said... maybe churches need to institute "introvert-friendly entrances/exits."
Just a thought.

Something crossed my FB wall a few days ago that disturbed me...


Honestly, I should thank the person who posted this for forcing me to examine my views about church, why we go there, and what we should be expecting from our attendance.

#1. This post implies that "the local church" is the the only place where we can count on God's protection.

• Anyone who has attended any church for any length of time is well aware that church attendance is no guarantee of safety and protection against evil. Simply put, bad stuff happens to good church members (and to everybody else on the planet). To suggest that church attendance/membership is some kind of insurance policy against unpleasant things occurring in your life is faulty reasoning at best. At worst, it's a kind of twisted manipulation of human emotions to get them to join your group.

• If your church attendance is inspired by fear of what happens if you don't show up on Sunday (or abstain from all labor on Saturday, or to pray certain prayers every day, or to give a specific amount in the offering, or whatever), then your faith is fear-based, not love-based, and needs to be examined. God isn't trying to SCARE you into being part of the church, and the church leaders shouldn't be, either. Just a thought.

#2. This post implies that anyone who is 'outside' the local church is somehow removed from God's grace and mercy.

• Really? What about "the goodness of God leads people to repentance?" Is that just talking about people who are already in the church? I don't think so. Are we talking a SPECIFIC local church, or ANY local church? Are we addressing any denomination, or just the ones that agree with the author? You see, this is a problem. I was part of a denomination that eschewed the majority of other denominations as somehow faulty in their theology. When something crappy happened to someone who was part of a different (albeit Christ-honoring) denomination, I chalked it up to their failure to ascribe to our particular theology. When lousy things happened within our own body, we publicly prayed and confessed the Word, and privately wondered what secret sin or lapse of faith the victim was guilty of. The point? It's not ours to judge or decide why things happen to believers OR to unbelievers. Stuff happens. God helps us deal with it, and as the body of Christ, we're supposed to come together to help one another through the tough times... in the church and "out" of the church. Period.

• Is church attendance an important part of the life of every believer in Christ? Absolutely. We are not to forsake the gathering together with other believers. But when we start pointing fingers at other gatherings, we have a problem... Is the Messianic Jewish house church as "under cover" as the flamboyant mega-church with the big building and the marketing campaign? Is the church repeating its weekly liturgies out of a book as "under cover" as the non-denominational church doing everything "as the Spirit leads"? Is random attendance as effective as weekly, or daily attendance? Do you have to sign your name on the membership line at a particular building to assure your protection? Where does one draw the line? Is there a line? 

I have a hard time believing in a God of love who would flick his beloved children out from under His protection based on their particular style and method of worship. That said, the question arises... if we don't go to church out of fear for our safety and protection (which is a twisted reason for going, IMO), why should we go? What purpose does church serve?

I believe that the original purpose of the church (ecclesia = gathering) was to provide a community of support for like-minded people to come together to worship, and to provide a social support network of tangible, physical care. Unfortunately, that's the part of "church" modern-day organized, corporate, 501c3 religion frequently fails at. Let's face it, it's a lot easier to spout platitudes and quote scriptures (and tell other people what they need to be saying and doing and thinking) than it is to wash their dishes, take them to a doctor's appointment, watch their kids, or pay their past-due bills. It's easier to promote building projects and evangelical campaigns than it is to sit down and deal with the schizophrenic chick who needs medical intervention more than she needs the laying on of hands. That stuff is messy, and we don't like messy faith.

For myself, I'm going to make an effort to get my hands messy more often. Not because someone is scaring me into it, but because I believe that's what the Lord would have me to do as a member of His body, His Church. I believe it's what He would do if he were here in my place.

Post #501. The pressure is on.

Just kidding.

It has been a looooong weekend.

Saturday I rose before dawn (there's something wrong with getting up before the sun, IMHO) to haul youngest offspring to the bus for a track meet.

Somewhere between 9 and 10 P.M. I finally, gratefully, crashed in my recliner. Which led me to think designing a sleep chair, wherein one's neck and thoracic spine would be supported regardless of which way one fell over in an exhausted stupor, would be a good entrepreneurial idea. I'm leaving that project up to the mechanically-minded, because I can't figure out how to open the soda boxes in the fridge so the cans don't roll out on my feet.

Anyway. I still hate Sundays.

And I still don't have any leading or direction or guidance from the Spirit of God to go to (or back to) a traditional church, which leads me to believe there's something else He wants me to do. Something outside my comfort zone.

Ugh.

Wouldn't it be nice if God would stay in our comfort zones?

If He wouldn't push us, prod us, and provoke us to take action and follow Him into the unknown, into uncharted territory?

Yeah. That might be nice. But we wouldn't be content. There's a difference between comfortable and content.

What has He asked of YOU lately?

I think I understand the conundrum of the recently retired... Suddenly, after years of a working person's schedule, to have nothing to do, no demands, no requirements, is a shock to the system. Sundays feel that way.

Maybe it's because for SO long our Sundays were run on tight schedules, with plenty of obligations and expectations. Get up (early, compared to the rest of the week) and get the household fed, cleaned, dressed, and prepped for the drive to church.

Sometimes church was a worshipful, holy experience, imbued by the glorious presence of God. Sometimes—just being honest, here—it was not. Sometimes it was boring. Sometimes it was awkward. And sometimes I just gritted my teeth and waited for the service to be over so I could go home, curl up in my bed, and cry myself to sleep because it was all so desperately difficult. (Be nice to your pastor's wife... It's her job to make it all seem easy and smooth... like a ballerina whose toes are bleeding in her shoes while she's onstage.)

After church, there was lunch to prepare. Then clean-up. Then change out of "Sunday" clothes (Want to know why we have "church clothes"? More on that in a future post.). For many years there was also an evening church service to attend, which involved another round of feeding, cleaning, dressing, and prepping, and another drive to and from. Then returning home to tuck everyone into bed and get ready for Monday.

These days, Sunday is a lot less structured. With a continued desire to worship and pray, whether in a church service or at home, the lack of structure has suddenly made my Sunday worship experience (read: prayer/meditation/connection with God) disturbingly intense, scarily intimate, and alarmingly personal. And sometimes, that is really, really HARD.

If you are open to it, God will happily get right up in your business and talk to you, and it's not always a pleasant, ego-affirming conversation. But it's real. And it can't be ignored or avoided... or covered over with a lot of busyness. And in my mind, THAT is worship, wherever and however, or on whatever day of the week it occurs.

You'd think after 23+ years of marriage I would have learned to say "no" to my hubby's spur-of-the-moment ideas. Alas, I must be a slow learner.

We tried to visit a church today. An adorable white clapboard community church with a steeple nestled in a tiny mountain town forty miles away. According to the map, we had just enough time to get there, so we set off.


Forty-five minutes and 30 miles later, we were on a slushy, snowy two-lane road heading to the middle of nowhere. This is a particular, and recurrent, nightmare of mine. We kept driving. And driving. And driving. Right out of cell phone range. No Google maps, no phone calls for directions.


Finally, we reached the sign that said we'd arrived. Elevation 7,950 ft. Population 85.
How hard can it be to find the only church in a town with a population of 85?


Too hard for us, apparently. Our children will appreciate this, as they spent many hours in the backseat of the car while we tried to figure out where we were. We kept driving and driving until we were late, which would have been horribly awkward and unappealing to my introversion, so we turned around without ever locating the little white church in the pines. Ah well... if we get points, maybe we'll get some for trying.

Confession: I haven't set foot inside a church building since Maundy Thursday, and that was part of my son's assignment for his comparative religion class.

Call it limbo. Call it transition. Call it whatever you will, I'm in a strange place.

Why, you ask? Because I can no longer subscribe fully to all the tenets and practices of my denomination. Wait, you say, I thought you were non-denominational... yeah, I was. I still am. But I no longer agree 100 percent with some of the tenets of my "faith camp."

Do I still believe in God? Without a doubt. Do I still call upon Jesus as my Lord and Savior? Absolutely.

But I have questions and concerns about the doctrines I accepted and adopted as a young believer, and those questions and concerns have led me to pull back, to seek the Lord privately and personally, for direction, for guidance, and for instruction.

Am I angry, bitter, resentful, or upset with my former church or its members?  No.

Do I believe God is calling me to something different? Something that doesn't quite fit within the practicum of the church in which I learned faith and attained a place of leadership? Yes.

The trouble, I find, comes in the explanation. When asked, I'm tempted to tell people I've decided to become a Catholic. Catholic means "universal church," so I wouldn't be fibbing, technically. Besides, I really like Pope Francis.

Seriously, though, it's hard to explain to friends from church why I'm not there. People who leave the church are angry. Or backslid. Or rebellious sheep. By leaving the church they are leaving God. Or so I believed. And now I find myself wearing their shoes, though I'm hungrier for God and His Spirit and His wisdom and guidance and purpose than ever.... Wanna talk about confused?

I can't even put it into words, and for a writer, that's a terrifying conundrum.

For my friends and loved ones, I love you. If you're connected to the church, go, listen to the Holy Spirit, obey. And if you've already fallen OUT of the church spectrum for whatever reason... LISTEN to the Holy Spirit, obey, and be the child of God you were created to be. Love, believe, forgive, show mercy, do what's right, fellowship with other believers... whether in the church or "out" of the church, after all, Jesus didn't come to establish a church, or a religion. He came to establish a one-on-one relationship. Where that relationship leads you is between you and Him.

I ditched another women's conference. (Cue Brittney Spears' pesky earworm. Click the link if you have no idea what I'm talking about... Oops, I did it again.)
I know, I know... (and there's no point in telling me how incredible it was now that it's over, unless you WANT to induce guilt and condemnation) ...the conference was wonderful, the messages were life-altering, the fellowship notable, the ministry led by the Spirit. I'm happy for you. Really, I am! I'm glad you were blessed, glad you were ministered to, glad you enjoyed the weekend's festivities.
So why didn't I attend (again)? It's not because I dislike the event itself, or those who organized it, or those attending. It's not because I doubt the value or power of the Word that was shared. For the most part, it's because I can no longer endure the friendly questioning, the concerned looks, or the pitying glances. It's fairly easy to slip in and out of a regular church service without running the gauntlet of greeters. A women's conference? No such luck.
One year I went so far as to attend wearing a wig. I was desperate for anonymity. Sitting in the back row was such a relief I nearly jumped for joy when I realized no one had spotted me. I didn't want to be recognized as a PW, didn't want to answer anyone's questions about how things were going in our church plant, didn't want to plaster the phony smile on my face I so often found myself compelled to wear in my PW role.
This year, no longer a PW, my reasons for avoiding the conference were slightly different. I didn't want to attend because I'm tired of dealing with rumors that my husband and I are divorced (we're not), that we're "quitters" and "failures" at ministry (maybe we are... does that mean we deserve judgement and rebuke from those who have no idea what we experienced in our 14 years of pastoring a church plant in a tiny town that's well-known for "eating its pastors for lunch"?), that we're backslidden (again, if we are, is gossiping about us the correct "Christian" response?).
Nor do I want to explain (again) the fact we turned our church plant over to the couple who probably should have taken it YEARS ago, before we fell victim to ministerial burn-out. Nor do I want to explain that we were, after a year of staying on at the church we planted and trying to "make it work," forced by financial circumstances into a foreclosure on our home, the loss of my husband's business, and moving back in with my parents at the age of 42. (I thank God there are two houses on the property they've worked so hard to own, or the awkwardness and embarrassment would be overwhelming.)
My husband is "doing his own thing" now... finding new and creative ways to minister the Gospel of Christ to those who've been rejected and cast aside by the average churchgoer because of lifestyle, appearance, or background. I pray he will find the soul satisfaction that comes from fulfilling the call of God that's on his life.
My children are, perhaps, more church-burned than I am, and that hurts worse than anything else. In spite of our efforts to guard them, they suffered the same wounds, rejections, and sorrows we did, without the benefit of age and experience to soften the blows. They're bitter, angry, resentful, and wary. I'm sure we could have prevented this, if we'd known how, but we were ignorant. All I can do now is pray for them.
For myself, I haven't come to a conclusion... Shall I continue to attend church alone, slipping in late and out early to avoid people? For now, I'm well aware that I'm too broken to be of use in the local church, that my attendance on Sunday morning is incredibly, horribly selfish in that I'm just seeking healing, seeking answers, seeking peace for myself.
Perhaps I just need time to mend.
Sheesh. How long does mending take?
Worse, will there be a place for me if and when the mending is complete, regardless of what changes have occurred in me during the process?
It's quite the conundrum.  
For now, I will continue to pray, continue to take comfort in the Scriptures, continue to listen for the voice of my Savior speaking to me.
And that will have to be enough.

On "M*A*S*H" wounded soldiers were sent to triage to determine the extent of their injuries and level of care they needed to recover.


In my opinion, we need triage units in the church. Every time we send out a missionary, or a new minister, or an evangelism team, we send them into spiritual war zones ... and unless you've been there, to that particular place and time and season, you cannot assume to know or understand the attacks that come against them during their "tour."

Sometimes the attacks are physical... sickness, exhaustion, anxiety, and the like. More often the attacks are spiritual/mental/emotional in nature, things like doubt and fear and cynicism.

Some, thank God, return from the field relatively unscathed. Others return with questions, fears and doubts they cannot reconcile with church-as-they-knew-it before. Some suffer internal injuries and come home with "slow bleeds" that eventually endanger their lives. Others take direct hits ... they return missing parts and pieces of their faith, of their doctrine, of themselves. And the church, in general, smiles and claps politely and expects all of the above to keep marching along in step with everyone else.

“There is no deeper pathos in the spiritual life of man than the cruelty of righteous people.”

When a wounded Christian "acts up" (think about an injured animal, they tend to be cranky and prone to growling and biting and generally behave badly), our response as fellow believers is often to rebuke or reject, without asking "why" or "what" or even slowing down long enough to pray for the person or ask for wisdom in approaching him/her. Ever run into a Christian misbehaving? Maybe he or she is injured, hurting, and in need of help...


Sometimes wounded Christians simply withdraw. They may disappear from fellowship functions, stop communicating, or "suddenly" change social circles. Our typical response, as fellow Christians? A little presumption and a little assumption (usually in the form of polite gossip aka prayer requests) followed by avoidance.  Personally, this latest round has reminded me of the fourth grade...

During Christmas break that year, I contracted the flu. I don't know what brand of flu it was, but it put me down for weeks. We were two weeks into the second semester of school when I was finally strong enough to return to class.

Not only had I missed an entire unit on fractions (which stump me to this day), I returned to find that the classroom had been rearranged into groups. Four desks per group. I found my desk shoved off in a corner, forgotten. I hadn't been present, so I was forgotten. I well recall the sensation of not belonging, of being outcast and shunned, and all because I'd been sick.

How many wounded believers around us feel the same way? Cast out. Left behind. Shunned. Forgotten. Unwanted.

The point of this post? The next time you see a fellow believer "acting out" in ways you don't approve or deem "Christian enough,"  or withdrawing from fellowship and communion with others, don't take the easy road of presumption and judgment or mutual avoidance... step into your prayer closet and ask the Lord if there's something you can do for that person. A kind word, a faith-filled prayer, a friendly gesture, or a well-timed question might make the difference between a fellow believer being in the body of Christ or ending up out of joint. Remember, one member out of joint causes discomfort for all!

Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated, but rather be healed.

Worship, by definition, means to "give attention to" something; to exalt, honor, extol the virtues of, and to revere and regard with highest value.

In the Old Testament (and the New, in several places) the worship of idols (idolatry) was considered the worst of the worst in terms of "missing the mark" when it came to seeking God and religious piety. An idol could be ANYTHING... an inanimate object like a stick, a rock, a statue, the moon (Abraham was a moon-worshiper before his encounter with God), or some representation of a false God, as was the case with the Egyptians in the OT, and later the Greeks and Romans in the NT.

Worship can be applied to anything, even foolish things. Because worship is one of the God-given choices we have as human beings, what we choose to worship is up to us. Choosing to worship God is not only one of His commandments, it's one of the most profound ways we express our faith.

And yet I see places in my own life, and in the lives of those around me, where worship has drifted away from God the Creator to that which has been created, either by God or by man. (Didn't Paul warn the Romans about just that same thing?)

They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator — who is forever praised. Amen.

Rom 1:25 NIV

Today, these subjects of faux-worship (aka idolatry) are rarely evil or bad or wicked. We'd recognize those tricks, after all. No, these are good things, things set in place in the universe by our heavenly Father. But even though they may have been created by Him, He never intended us to worship them.

I had to give myself a check-up. What have I been worshiping in place of the Almighty?


Family?
God ordained the family unit in Genesis; marriage, then parenthood, and so forth. BUT, if I begin to exalt and honor and revere the idea of family above GOD and His nature (love), then I have made an idol out of His creation.

Country?
My ancestors arrived on American soil more than a century before the Revolutionary War. Several of them fought alongside General Washington. I'm about as American as they come (except for the Indians, of course). Do I believe God had a hand in creating this nation of freedom and equal rights for all? Absolutely. What I do not believe is that we get to rest on our laurels, so to speak, and call ourselves a Christian nation, and exalt our national "values" above God's will and purpose and nature. When patriotism (nationalism) overrides mercy and kindness and brotherly love for ALL, we've turned our nation into an idol.

Church?
This one is a sticky wicket, to be sure. I'm not talking about the church as the universal Body of Christ, made up of all those who believe in Him, I'm talking about "the church" as an institution and organization established by man, regardless of denomination. When we begin to promote and protect and preserve "the church" more than we promote God and the Gospel, something has gone horribly awry... IMO, many of our "church growth programs" are little more than incubators for idolatry, once again turning our worship away from the Creator to that which He created.

Those are just a few... you could worship a cause (abortion, adoption, free speech, missions, music, any hobby and pretty much anything that ends in "-ism"), or an idea or the past or the future. It's possible to worship your own body, in a negative or a positive sense. Figuring out just what we're really worshiping can be tricky.

When my kids were small and we were struggling to make them behave during "praise and worship" in the front row of the church while they bickered and squabbled and poked one another, my pastor/hubby used to ask them, "Who are you worshiping? Are you worshiping God, or your brother/sister?" What they were paying the most attention to was the identifying factor in what they were worshiping.

This might sting a little, but ask yourself the following questions:
1. What has been your primary topic of casual conversation with friends and family this week?
2. What's the general subject of the emails you've forwarded?
3. What have the majority of your Facebook status updates and Tweets been about?
4. What has been first and foremost in your mind when you wake up in the morning and when you lie down at night? When you're at work? When you're at leisure?

Those things are some pretty good indicators of what you've been worshiping lately. (You can say "amen" or  "oh me.")

The good news? Even if we've gotten off course and started worshiping the creation rather than the Creator, as long as you have breath in your body you can turn it around on a dime! Recognizing the deception is MORE than half the battle. Once you see it, you can see the truth.

Worship GOD, for He alone is worthy! Family may aggravate you, your country may go astray, and your church might crumble, but God is eternal and He will never fail you, give you up, leave you without support, or forsake you. 

I had a wonderful conversation with a dear friend this afternoon. She reassured me that the ugly rumor I'd heard that The Patrick and I had gotten divorced (which came from a church member who ASSUMED such was true because we never show up for special meetings together) hadn't spread to her side of the aisle, at least. *sigh*

She also informed me that I don't need to fret over what everyone is thinking and saying about our change in ministerial status. Not too much, anyway, since only a numbskull (this is my interpretation, not hers) would say that "we quit the ministry" simply because we turned our pastoral position over to another couple last year and are pursuing other ministerial options. During my drive home I pondered the numbskull's comment.

To the immature eye, yes, we quit "The Ministry." To the immature, "ministry" is a tightly guarded, carefully sequestered little box, locked within the four pristine walls of the local church building.  But what is "ministry," really? 

Is it a title? Is it standing behind a pulpit or on a platform every week? Is it having an office at the church? Is it getting a paycheck? Is it getting to sit in the "reserved" row at special meetings or being invited to fellowship with the leaders after service? I confess (to my shame and dismay), there was a time I thought so. Thank God I've been corrected. Rebuked, even.

In Bible school we learned "ministry is spelled W-O-R-K." That's true, in one sense, but in my immaturity I limited that definition to the work done within the church, or at least in church-sanctioned activities like "jail ministry" or "prayer walks."

What I've learned since (and there's probably more to learn) is that ministry is not JUST spelled W-O-R-K, it's spelled L-O-V-E and M-E-R-C-Y and C-O-M-P-A-S-S-I-O-N. In fact, ministry with only the first one and not the last three isn't really ministry at all, even if it comes with a title and a paycheck and a standing invitation to chips and dip with the guest ministers.

Jesus (who is supposed to be our example) expanded the definition of ministry. He was "moved with compassion" to exercise power and authority on behalf of the hurting, and He didn't even stop to ask if the hurting party was a member in good standing. He didn't do a background check on those He ministered to, or go back and make sure they were "toeing the line" after He'd demonstrated God's love to them.

Ministry is not an organization. It's not an institution. Ministry is an ACTION. Ministry can be a word of encouragement to someone who's struggling. It can be a hug for someone who's lonely, or picking up trash in a public place because it's the right thing to do. The act of ministry SHOULD be found in every highway and back alley, every church, every bar, every grocery store and every household. But for that to occur, we're going to have to broaden our horizons a bit... lest we continue to act like  numbskulls.

How do you define ministry?

"Won't you get struck by lightning for that?"
I have a non-churchgoing friend who likes to ask me difficult questions like "You can't do that and be a good Christian, can you?" or "Isn't that against your church rules?"

photo by Daquella manera via PhotoRee

Like many others, she's under the faulty impression that God's approval, acceptance, and love is reserved exclusively for those who meet a lengthy and stringent criteria of laws, codes, and ordinances. I've fallen into that performance-based faith trap before, and it's a miserable place to be.

via PhotoRee photo by mtsofan

That's not to say God doesn't have standards He wants us to live by. Unfortunately, organizations, administrations, and people in general like to add a lot of extra, unnecessary "stuff" to His standard. I was reminded this morning of just how simple God has made it for us.

"Owe no one anything except to love one another, for he who loves another has fulfilled the law. For the commandments, You shall not commit adultery, You shall not murder, You shall not steal, You shall not bear false witness, You shall not covet, and if there is any other commandment, are all summed up in this saying, namely, You shall love your neighbor as yourself. " Romans 13:8-9

The great majority of religious regulations are things that keep people away from church and away from God, things that cause God's people to suffer faith-hindering guilt and condemnation.

• Blindly accepted traditions made into rungs on the ladder to salvation (or damnation). 
• Church/Christian cultural trends mistakenly attributed to God's character. 
• Personal preferences elevated to a criterion for holiness. 

It's time we, as believers, start asking ourselves the kind of questions my friend tosses at me. Especially when we catch ourselves having those stiff-necked, knee-jerk, judgmental reactions to something (or someone) outside our personal church comfort zone. Are our rules helping, or hurting, God's cause?

Molasses in winter.

photo by technicool	via PhotoRee

Watching paint dry.
The church accepting change.

#1 and #2 are classic cliches. In my opinion, #3 should be.

A friend sent me a link to the following article, in which a professor of theology alleges that social networks like Facebook and the like are to blame for a decline in church attendance and participation. (to read the whole article, click here)

Seriously? We're pointing our holier-than-thou fingers at Facebook and Twitter now?

photo by Daniel Y. Go	via PhotoRee

I also came across the following link this week: "If Jesus Were on Facebook," and shared my opinions about "Would Jesus Tweet?"  almost two years ago.

Personally, I think Jesus would use (is using) every available method and means to share His message of love, mercy, grace, and forgiveness with the world. Technology doesn't frighten Him ... We haven't even progressed to the point of understanding the technology Daniel, Ezekiel, and John prophesied about!

We, as believers, SHOULD be on the cutting edge of technology, art, creativity, design, etc., because the creative God lives in us! In prior centuries, the greatest works of music and art and literature were created by Christians, an expression of the Spirit of God dwelling within them. Nowadays in the body of Christ, creative expression is either questioned, blamed, or curtailed by rules and guidelines and limitations.

It's time for those who love God, who endeavor to follow the example of the Christ, to reclaim the creative arts for the gospel ... including technology and social networking. Instead of dragging our feet into each new activity, perhaps it's time for the church to welcome new methods and ways of connecting humanity and sharing the truth.

Just a thought.

In fiction, writers are encouraged to stir things up in the story every few pages. A new development, a plot twist, a character revelation—something to make the reader's eyes open wide and lips curve into an "O". Keep things moving! Keep those characters hopping!

Well, my life isn't fictional (at least, I don't think it is) but the Author and Finisher of my faith has been busy keeping things moving. Literally moving, in the case of our church.

Eleven months ago, we traded buildings with another church in town that needed to expand. Most folks thought we were a little bit crazy. Or desperate. We wondered, ourselves, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

The little log building we've been meeting at since has served our purposes well. The fact it was once a preschool, complete with bright green chalkboards and a tiny drinking fountain and the faint scent of crayons and paste and Playdough in the air, has been more whimsical and amusing than distracting.


Now, we're moving again. This time into a recently vacated church building that has actually been a church (not a community center, a storefront, or a renovated car dealership) since it was built. It's a lovely building, inside and out, and we're thrilled with the opportunity to make it a more permanent home for our church family. (More pictures to come.)


The lesson I've learned from this strange, topsy-turvy season we've been in? Just like in the game of chess, sometimes it takes more than one move to get to where you want to go. Life is a process, not a procedure. Are you in the midst of the process and fretting about it? Stop.

If you're listening to the Lord's inward witness in your heart, you can trust that even when He leads you to do things others think is downright weird, God is working all the while in the background, arranging and positioning people and situations with the consummate skill of an award-winning director. As a character on His stage, you might not understand it all, but you can trust that He always has the end of His story in mind, and this Book has the happiest ending of all!

     Being a pastor's wife is kind of like being an art project. People judge the quality of your husband's ministry according to your appearance, behavior, attitude, submission, and degree of voluntary service to the church.
     The unspoken expectation is if you do well in your role, it reflects well on your spouse and his ministry will be a success. If you do poorly, well ... you've disappointed your husband, your church, and your God. 
     Such is the battle faced by the heroine of The Pastor's Wife, which officially releases February 1, 2010 by author Jennifer AlLee,  published by Abingdon Press.
     AlLee, a former church secretary (another of those often maligned and misunderstood ministry positions in the body of Christ) has written a beautiful book that reveals the struggle faced by one pastor's wife to find her own identity, recover a broken relationship with God, and restore her marriage, with a heady undercurrent of the importance of forgiveness throughout.
     Don't assume this story won't appeal to you if you aren't a pastor's wife or in full-time ministry. The Pastor's Wife exposes universal dilemmas, conflicts exacerbated by a call to ministry, but familiar to almost everyone:

• How can we use our individual gifts to express our faith and serve our God without bowing to the expectations of others?
• Can we learn to see through judgmental, controlling behavior to the wounded person underneath and help set them free?
• What does it take to restore a marriage that's been shattered by separation and secrets?

     AlLee successfully weaves her story without being preachy and (to my great joy!) without turning her heroine into a Stepford wife as she navigates her relationships with God, with her husband, and with the church.
     I'm privileged and honored to claim Jen as an Inkie sister over at Inkwell Inspirations, where this week's posts were devoted to the release of The Pastor's Wife. And check out Jen's blog for the blog tour schedule throughout the month of February.
     Thank you Jen, for a wonderful read!