What are your rights?

"It's a privilege, not a right." That was the mantra of our Children's Ministry Director at my old church. At first it seemed a bit weird to me, telling kids that they should be have because it was a privilege to be there, not something that was guaranteed. Don't they all have the right to be in the room and hear about Jesus? She didn't mean that they didn't have that right, just that if they were misbehaving they also had a right to bear the consequences of their behavior.... to be forced to sit in "big church" with their parents. *Gasp!*

In our country, we tend to think of everything in terms of rights. It is a part of our culture. "We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with inherent and unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, & the Pursuit of Happiness..." That's what our country was founded on, right? Our unalienable rights?

Now, I'm not here to argue specifics of what those rights are, or what they aren't. But sometimes we get so caught up in life thinking that we have a right to something that we forget that it isn't a right at all. It's a privilege.

We think it's our right to be happy. It's our right to have the things we want. It's our right to have a job that not only pays us enough but fulfills us. It's our right to have a perfect relationship with our significant other, our family members and our friends. It is a right to feel good, all the time.

In reality these things aren't rights at all, and viewing them as such only makes us live in discontentment.

When we get caught up in these things, we aren't happy until we feel like we have gotten what we deserve, what is owed to us. This discontentment leads to a whole host of other negative side effects: anger, frustration, and eventually anxiety, all because we feel like we should have something that we don't. We live in discontentment.

The Bible tells us that we should live in an opposite way: with thankfulness. Not that "Now what do you say?" type of forced thank you that we tell kids to say. But the real heart felt gratitude that comes from knowing that we just received something that we will enjoy whether we deserved it or not.

I think a lot about Philippians 4:6 that says:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

Maybe it's because when I'm anxious and praying about it, this is the first thing that pops into my mind. And usually it is followed with something like, "But God, I don't feel grateful. I'm nervous, anxious that things won't turn out my way. That I'll get the short end of the stick. That I won't get what I'm entitled to." Sometimes I'll throw in a plea that God would teach me to be grateful, because obviously I don't know how to be.

Looking back, I can almost always pinpoint something I think I deserve, a right I have that I feel is being overlooked, that is making me anxious. I should be treated well at work. I deserve to have all the possessions I want, and the money to pay for them without worrying. I deserve happiness. I deserve to be entertained.

In reality most things I see as rights are just things that I want. I assign the title of rights just so that I don't feel like I'm being selfish. I should instead be thankful for all the many things I have been given, things I don't deserve. I should stop seeing things as benefits that I deserve, but as things that I would like to have, and live a life grateful for the things I do have. Even if I never get all the things I want.

The Sound of Silence

I've heard so many times that silence is golden. I'm starting to think it's true.

My mom has been in town this week, and after being around her I have learned where I got my gift of gab. I know I love to talk, but I think my mom puts me to shame. So much so that I was admittedly a little frustrated by the end of our first day together.

Part of the reason why is because not only did I inherit a love for the spoken word form my mother, I inherited my love of the unspoken word from my father. I genuinely love comfortable silence.

Do you know what I'm talking about? The kind of situations when you're in a car with someone, or you're walking together, or just hanging out and nothing is being said, but no one is uncomfortable. These are the times when you don't have to force a conversation, but there is a peace that comes in the silence.

My mom was super excited to come visit, and I was looking forward to her coming, because she hadn't been able to come to WV in nearly 4 years. That's a long time! But that meant that she had a lot bottled up a lot of talk. So much so that at times I felt like I couldn't or shouldn't get a word in. I guess that's not too bad a problem to have, because I'm super glad that I have the ability to have those conversations with my mom, to have her here with me.

But I have different expectations of quality time. I knew that going into this week, but hadn't really thought through the implications. And so by the end of our first full day I was worn out, and frustrated.

I was looking forward to talking and hanging out, but also to those times of comfortable silence when nothing needs to be said. When both people who are together are just comfortable. By day 2 things got a bit better, and there were some of those magical moments I was hoping to have, intermixed with the rapid conversations that she loves. I guess it was a good balance.

I love my mom, and I love to talk. But I also really love to just be with the people I love, and not talk. I love being in a situation where everyone is so comfortable that the silence doesn't bring tension, but it brings peace.

Unplugged

Today I'm leaving for my annual family reunion. I never know what to expect... but I always end up having a good time. The reunion is at a beautiful state park in KY, and it gives me the chance to see extended family members that I wouldn't usually see any other time of the year. In fact, until moving to WV I didn't ever go to the reunion, so there were about 20 years that I didn't see any of these relatives!

As I started packing last night and thinking through what I would take on this overnight adventure, I was pondering taking my ever present backpack. It goes pretty much anywhere I go, especially if I am gone longer than 2 hours and there is a slight possibility I could need a computer.

But I thought, I really don't want to take an extra bag. Can't I just take a small bag and a purse? And of course the answer is no.

Well, I guess I could. If my small bag was a tiny bit bigger. (It really is a small bag.) Mainly because it doesn't have room to carry my Bible and a book to read. And of course no room for my computer.

I didn't realize how dependent I had once again become on this little piece of technology. How I start my day, every single day, checking facebook and email about an hour after I wake up. (This of course is much better than the days when I would keep my computer by my bed and check them before I got out of bed in the morning.)

And so I have decided, no computer for this trip. Maybe leaving it home will help me connect better with my family. Which seems a bit ironic since it is the primary I keep up with them on a regular basis. Maybe it'll help me to unplug a little bit, even if it is only for 36 hours.

And so I start my journey, 1 small (very small) overnight bag, a purse, and a drawstring bag containing my books/journal. Here's to getting unplugged. At least from my computer. :)

Loving the Unlovable

I wanna be a charity case. No, not because I want to be given a lot of free stuff, although I guess that'd be nice.

I was reading this morning about the love of God. This is one of those subjects that I have been learning about practically since I was born, but I still feel like there is so much mystery involved.

I've always heard about different kids of love. About eros, the kind of love that desires. And phileo, the brotherly love. And then you get to agape, which I've always known of as the Big Love, the one that God has for us, the one He wants us to love others with.

Today I read a description of agape I'm not sure I've ever heard before. If I have heard it it got lost somewhere in my brain.

See, the Old English word for agape is charity. At first glance I thought that was a little weird. But once I thought about it, it made sense. When God loves us, He loves us because He wants to give us love, not because we have done anything to earn His love. In fact, we usually do things that on the surface would seemingly make us unworthy of His love.

But He gives it anyway. He gives us charity, a free, undeserved gift.

No one wants to be a charity case in real life. We want to be independent, thinking we can do it all on our own. But the reality is that we can't. I can't.

I need to be given love that isn't based on what I deserve or how I perform, because if that was the standard I wouldn't be loved at all. At the core I'm an unlovely person. But God loves me, even though I'm unlovely.

I want to act the same way. I spend my life trying to know God more, and be transformed into His image, being more like Him. And I realize that if I'm going to do that, I need to start seeing others as charity cases.

Nope, not that they aren't valuable. That would be the opposite of why God loves. Instead, seeing them as so valuable that even though they may not deserve my love, and may be just as unlovely as I am, I can still love them. Still sacrifice for them, still give to them even what they don't deserve.

That is a hard thing. Because in my world I don't want to give people what they don't deserve. They should get what's coming to them, good or bad. But my God sees them differently. He loves even the unlovable.

"Brazilian Time"

Before I went on my first mission trip to Brazil, I had some preparation. Our team would get together every few weeks and talk about what we were going to be doing, what to expect, and we'd learn a little bit about the Brazilian culture.

I absolutely LOVED the last part. Sure, learning what we were going to be doing was awesome, but I really loved learning about the people, the customs, and the language. Something about it being so different from what I knew intrigued me.

Of course, learning things about culture while stateside is a bit different than experiencing them while you're in another country. Throughout my travels I have experienced many different times and levels of culture shock, experiences when my life collided with a different culture and my mind just didn't know how to process it immediately.

Before heading to Brazil, our leaders and those who had been to Brazil before laughingly told us about what they referred to as "Brazilian Time". This was the oddity of not being someplace on time, not starting when you say you're going to start, and getting around to doing things when you do them.

This baffled me a bit, because even as a teenager I was all about planning, and scheduling, and lists, and routines. I didn't know how people would function without doing things exactly on time!

I realized when I got to Brazil that this is exactly how the people functioned. Sure, some things started on time, but most didn't. There was even one day we got to the church we were working with and waited a half hour for someone to come unlock the doors and let us in... even though it was an hour after they were supposed to open. Situations like that frustrated me. I just didn't get it. I didn't understand how anyone could function like that!

As I got to know the people better, I learned something. This perpetual lateness had nothing to do with laziness, or lack of time management skills. And yes, Brazilians own clocks and watches. "Brazilian Time" was all about relationships.

See, if they were getting ready to leave their house, and a neighbor stopped by, they wouldn't just tell them they were in a hurry and rush off. They'd invite them in, talk with them a little bit, and even offer them something to eat or drink. If they ran into someone on the way to wherever they were heading, they would take time to have a conversation, to truly catch up. Not just do the passing, "Hey." that we Americans do as we rush by one another.

This is a people that are all about each other. More than what they have to accomplish, more than a task, they are about relationship.

I think that's exactly what God is like when it comes to us. So many times we pray and ask God for something. And we want Him to follow through, and on time. Our time. But He usually doesn't work that way. He isn't all about what we asked for, a task, or an end result. I mean, I think He cares about all of those, I just don't think they are His main motivation.

He cares about the relationship. He cares about the process of getting us somewhere. I think this tiny part of Brazilian culture shows just a little bit about the character of God. He wants to stop and talk to us. He wants to be in relationship with us, not just give us what we think we need. He wants to be with us through a process, not just the end result.

In my hurry-up American life, I live impatiently. All the time. I like to schedule things, and get things done quickly and efficiently. I like to pack my day full. And sometimes that doesn't leave a lot of room for relationships and process, which makes it frustrating when God doesn't come through for me in my time frame.

I keep trying to remind myself to slow down. To stop for a minute. To have some "Brazilian Time" when it comes to God (and really in my whole life). I need relationship with Him. I don't just need a vending machine God. I need someone I can count on and trust in. And I need to be more enthusiastic about slowing down going through my process with Him, growing a relationship, than I am about the end result.

A Part of the Story

Last night I went to the movies. I won't tell you which movie I saw, because I don't really think I'd recommend it. I mean, it was okay, and fairly clean, but it wasn't great. And being a lover of movies I feel like I have a specific taste for what I feel is great.

As I watched the movie, there were times I was into the story, times I laughed, times I was nervous for the main characters. But there were also times when I realized I was watching a movie. You know what I'm talking about? You're in the theater, and suddenly the story line of the movie isn't all that interesting any more, and you start to think about what you have to do later on, or think about the fact that you're in a movie.

The good movies are the ones that have such an engaging story line that you get engrossed in them, and the rest of your life isn't at the forefront of your mind anymore. They are the kinds of stories that suck you in, that you feel like you're a part of.

Unfortunately my $5 ticket did not get me into one of those great movies yesterday.

As I sat in the theater, supposedly watching the movie, I came to a conclusion. I was sitting in a theater for 2 hours, spending my life watching a story I wasn't engaged in at all. (Proven by the fact that my thoughts were going that direction.) In a way I was wasting my time. Of course, I was there with a friend, so that part wasn't a waste of time. And she and I got to laugh about parts of the movie and question it together afterward.

But I wasn't engaged. I wasn't a part of the story. I just wasn't feeling it.

I think that is what our walk with God is like many times in our life. We know about His story, but for some reason we're just watching it unfold, not really all that into what's happening, thinking about what we want, or what we will be doing later that day.

We don't really look to see what God is doing. We don't really participate in the story that He is writing in the world.

The most unfortunate thing about this is that He isn't writing a sub-par, boring, no adventure story. He is writing the best story of all time. And we just aren't paying attention.

My Plans

My sister and I are 2 years apart, but in just about any way imaginable we are as far apart as two people can get. Sure, we have things in common, but polar opposites describes us well.

Growing up my sister was the popular one. The pretty one. The out going one. She was who I wanted to be like.

I was the smart one. The shy one. The one with the sarcastic mouth.

I had all the book knowledge, and she had all the street smarts. She listened to all the popular music of the time, and I snubbed it and told her I refused to listen to it. (Of course I still stand by that when it comes to country music, because when you're right, you're right.) She was on the dance team in high school, the thought of going to high school mortified me. She couldn't wait to get her driver's license, and have the freedom to go anywhere she wanted. I put it off until the last possible second.

We were as different as 2 people could get. But the funny thing is, as we've gotten older, we've turned out to be much more like each other than we ever thought we'd be.

I recently picked up a copy of Plan B by Pete Wilson, pastor of Cross Point Church in Nashville. Honestly, I figured it'd be a good book. I've met Pete once, heard him speak at Cross Point, and my sister knows him and his family pretty well. I figured this would be a book I could read that I could trust. But I expected to start to read, and read a chapter at a time. You know, that it would be one of those encouraging Christian books that even though it's well written you can only handle for short spurts.

What I didn't expect was to be sucked in to the book immediately. Because this book was telling me the story of my life. And probably the story of your life too. It is all about learning what to do when life just doesn't turn out the way you planned it.

That is something I know a LOT about. And this book got me thinking about my life, and what I had laid out as my Plan A.

When I was younger, I unintentionally made plans for when I'd grow up. I was the one that wanted to stay near my family. Sure, go to school, but not really worry about a career. Settle down, get married, and have a family. Do the mom thing. You know, a happy American life.

My sister, my polar opposite, wanted to live life. To be in a city, to work in the workplace. She wasn't all about settling down too soon, or having kids young. She wanted the exciting life of freedom.

The funny thing is that in some ways we've ended up in each other's dream worlds. She got married young, and has 3 amazing kids. She still lives outside of Nashville, where we grew up, but in the country. (Now that is a far cry from wanting to be a city girl.) She is doing the mom thing, and is even more amazing at it than I would have ever imagined.

I didn't get married young, haven't had those kids yet. After college I moved away, 600 miles away, and went to grad school. I found life away from home, away from my family. And then I found a career that I love. I'm the one living the single life of "freedom" like my sister wanted. Just not really in a big city.

Our lives not only didn't turn out to be our perfectly planned ideals, but almost opposite of what we thought we wanted. Now knowing each other, and seeing each other in the roles we play, we can both attest to the fact that we're each exactly where we need to be.

Would I have made a great young mom? Maybe. Would my sister have been a successful business woman? I wouldn't doubt it.

But God had other plans. Plans that were bigger than what we saw based on what we thought we could accomplish.

One of the characteristics I have noticed about Plan B situations in my life is that they often require more of me that I think I have.

This makes sense when you think about it. Generally when we make plans and dream dreams, we draw on our giftedness, our skills, our education. We skew toward our preferences and our comfort zones.

Plan A seems so perfect for us. Plan B by definition seems harder and a lot less appealing.

-Pete Wilson, Plan B, p 38.

I don't know that we ever live long enough to be living fully in a situation that won't be a Plan B. I'm learning more and more how to seek God when I don't get what I want, when I feel like He's sending me on a path that is in the opposite direction of my Plan A.

What about you? Do you feel like your life is completely opposite than the way you imagined it would be? How can you turn to God and see Him in the midst of Plan B?

Risky Business: Overcoming Fear

You say jump to arms wide open
I am scared but I am willing
Blessed is the one,
Blessed is the one who trusts in You
-Blessed is the One, Daniel Doss Band

Last night I overcame a fear. A small, irrational fear, but a fear nonetheless.

Since I was 15 I have been dancing in various forms and styles. It started with a dance team that was closer to cheer dance, and then transitioned to tap, ballet, jazz, and eventually modern. Then a few years ago I was introduced to Zumba.

Now zumba was like nothing I had ever done before. Mainly because the dance programs I was involved in were Christian based, and pretty strict. We were taught that you don't use your hips. Ever. My friends and I would even joke that dancing with your hips was straight from the devil.

So when I started zumba, it took some getting used to. Obviously if you're going to do latin dance of any form, you'll have to use your hips.

I have gotten more comfortable with that, and really enjoy my class. Our teacher, Alex, has been trying to get me to go on stage to dance with her for a while now. Others do it all the time. Without a care, and without worrying about getting the steps right or everyone watching or looking ridiculous.

But after a little bet with someone else in the class, last night was my night to go on stage, and I was nervous to say the least.

Based on my life experience I shouldn't have been. I have have live many of the past years on the stage through dance recitals, teaching, coaching, and speaking to groups of people. I've been dancing long enough to feel confident in the steps I would have to do. I love to dance. and I kind of love to be on stage in other situations.

I told you it was an irrational fear.

But based on what I had been told when I was younger, I felt awkward having anyone look at me while I was dancing in this form of dance. No one should see me use my hips if it is dance that's from the devil, right?

But the time came, and I did it. And you know what? It wasn't that bad. Sure, it was weird. But I realized that I could dance up there, enjoy it, and no one was judging me. Or if they were they didn't let on.

I get that way too often. Something in my past makes me fear something that I have to do in the present. It creates fear. Sometimes small, sometimes big. Usually irrational.

The quote above is from a song I love. I feel so many times that God is asking me to do something, to just trust in Him, but I am scared to do it. To take an all out flying leap into His arms. Some little experience in my past comes back to haunt me and make me afraid. The thing is that the situation that is affecting me typically involved someone else letting me down, never God letting me down.

I can look back through my life at the times God said, "JUMP!" and He never once let me fall. I may not have ended up where I thought I would, but I never was hurt through what He wanted.

Sometimes my experiences create irrational fears, like being afraid to do zumba on a stage, or thinking that God won't come through for me. It's in those times that I have to be brave. I have to be willing to challenge the fears in my head and my heart and remind myself of what the truth is. I can dance on stage because I'm a dancer, I love to dance, I know the steps, and I'm not afraid of people. I can trust God because He is faithful, trustworthy, never lets me down, and wants what's best for my life.

Risky Business Pt. 2: Courage

Do you remember about 15 years ago when Ty Beanie Babies were super cool? Everyone just wanted to get their hands on one of the rare and valuable little animals, in hopes of one day making some money by selling it to someone more obsessed with these creatures than they were. Or maybe they just wanted to have the prestige of owning a rare collectible. Oddly enough, I don't think things turned out quite the way people expected in regards to return for their investment in these cute little bags of beans.

In spite of that, one Beanie Baby in particular holds special value for me, even though no on would pay a bunch of money for it. (In fact I think it might be worth around $5 now.) It is Roary the lion, and it was given to me by my father.

I can't remember the specific year, but there was a time that my dad went away on a business trip for about a week. This wasn't very common, but when he did go out of town without us, he would always bring us some small little treat. This time it was a Beanie Baby, because he knew how much we loved them.

As he was getting ready to give each of us our little treasure, he told us that these weren't just things that he bought without reason. He picked out a specific prize for each of us after having spent a week praying for us individually. As he gave each of us our toy, he told us a Bible verse that he felt God wanted us to hear.

And so after giving my brother his prize (he after all is younger and should go first) he came to me, and began to read a set of verses that have stuck with me ever since.

Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go. (Joshua 1:7-9)

At that point in life I don't think I had any idea what it felt like to be terrified. Sure, I had felt discouragement, but nothing profound. But I listened to my father, and knowing he spoke in wisdom, I treasured his words.

He reminded me that there would be times in life that I would be afraid, so afraid that I might feel paralyzed. There would be times I would be discouraged, and feel hopeless. But he shared with me a vital truth: there is a way out, no matter what. God is with you always, everywhere, in every situation.

He pointed out the part of the verses that talk about meditating on the Word of God, and told me that was the key to success. Not just reading the Bible, but spending time with God. And if I would do that, even when the bad times would come, I could make it through anything.

I held on to those words, and the promises that my dad told me. So much so that when I was older and remembered what he told me I started to really look at Joshua's life.

Do you know what I discovered? Joshua was the guy that got to bring the Israelites into the promised land. But being the successor of Moses he had some pretty big shoes to fill. He had some pretty huge battles to fight. In fact, the first half of the book of Joshua reads more like a series of war stories than anything else. Then he had to be the guy to divide up the land amongst the people. (And knowing how selfish and demanding we are as people, I'm betting that was the least fun job of all.)

And so at the beginning of his time of leadership, God gave him a command. "Be strong and courageous." But he didn't just give it to him once. Nope, he told him over and over. Five times. And that was just as he was getting started. I think God knew that Joshua would feel like it was a big risk to do some of the things God was calling him to do. That there was a chance of failure, and that his failure wouldn't just affect himself, but all of his people.

Joshua internalized the words God had spoken, and even repeated them to his people. I wonder if Joshua repeated them not only for the people's sake, knowing they would be heading into some intense battles in the future, but also to remind himself of what God had told him. I wonder how many times he was in battle, or viewing an enemy for the first time, or dealing with the people he was leading, and thought to himself, "Be strong and courageous. God's got this one. He told you he wouldn't leave you. C'mon man, get it together! Be strong. Courageous. God's got your back."

Throughout my life I've had a lot of experiences in which I've had to remind myself to be strong and courageous. To be willing to act even when I'm afraid. To trust that God is there with me always, even when I am discouraged or terrified. When I can't figure out the outcome on my own. When logic just isn't enough to figure out how to respond in a difficult situation. When I'm leading people that I have no idea how to lead.

I've learned that courage is not the absence of fear. Instead it is the willingness to act in spite of fear. Joshua got that down. I only hope that I'm heading toward a life that is full of courage as I face my everyday fears, big or small.

What are the areas in your life that you need to be courageous? Areas in which you need to find strength in God to be able to act in spite of fear?

Risky Business

There I was. Palms sweating. Heart racing. Why had I agreed to do this again? Oh, right. My friends talked me into it. “It'll be fun!” they said. “Don't be scared!” they said. They even gave me a little verbal push by telling me, “It's really not that bad, no big deal!” Right.

There I stood, on the top of what amounted to a single telephone pole, deciding whether or not I would jump to what I assumed would be an early death. “Fifteen is too young to die,” is all that was running through my head. Well, that and the thought that if I lived I might seriously injure my friends that had talked me into this in the first place.

It was my first experience with what is known as a high-ropes course. You know, the kind of place where you climb rock walls and walk across cables and do things that would ordinarily never be possible because of safety issues, all because you're strapped into a harness. The idea being if you start to fall to your death, the person on the ground holding on to you can stop your fall.

That wasn't a very comforting thought to me though. Standing 60 feet in the air on a pole that barely held my little size 6 feet I was terrified.

Could I actually do this? Jump and trust that this harness that was strapped onto me by some college student would actually hold?

In an instant, something clicked in my head. I don't know what triggered it. Suddenly it occurred to me that if I didn't jump I'd probably regret it. And on top of the regret, I'd have to climb back down this giant death pole (the climb up not being the highlight of my life).

So I started to try to convince myself I could do this. I had friends on the ground cheering for me. Yelling encouraging words. Telling me I wouldn't die.

In the next instant my mind took it's own leap. Instead of just stepping off this pole, experiencing a free fall until I could put my feet on solid ground, why not make the most of it. Why not jump as far and hard as I could? Why not try to jump out to the little trapeze type pole that they challenged people to reach? Why not just go all out?

Then it happened. I jumped. I mean, I really jumped. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced. I'm sure my blood curdling scream could be hear a state away. But it was also one of the most liberating and exhilarating experiences of my 15 year old life.

I had conquered a fear.

The rest of the time at the ropes course was a series of liberating moments, chances to continually overcome my fear of heights, opportunities to be the one that led the way.

At that point I didn't realize how much that situation would happen over and over again in my life. No, not overcoming the fear of heights, but the fear to jump. The fear to let go and trust.

The fear that I felt that day rears it's ugly head nearly every day, in situations in which I wouldn't expect it to be present.

And every single day I have a choice. Will I jump? Will I take the risk of failing, or falling, or dying in some aspect of my life? Will I listen to the people who are encouraging me, helping me along, or will I give in to the nagging voice in my head that tells me it isn't worth it?