Call to action

This weekend was a weekend of healing for so many...the countenance of many of the women that I know has literally changed. And for that, I thank God. It is amazing to watch Him move.

This weekend was also a call to action. Today Pastor Jay preached. He taught on growth...how it is important to mature as individuals, but also as a body. One of his illustrations hit me. Babies are really cute. But, if they don't develop, mature, grow, at a certain point, this indicates that there is a problem...there is a need for medical attention.

There is no medical insurance for stunted spiritual growth. But there is a hospital in which this can be cured. It is called the church, being involved in a community of believers who are growing through their own brokenness, who are experiencing healing spiritually, emotionally, physically. Spiritual growth is not reactive. It is proactive. The Bible exhorts believers to work out their salvation with fear and trembling.

For me, this weekend was a growth weekend. I actually let my guard down in the group of women. I laughed (so much so that the people in the room next door banged on the wall to shut us up.) I cried so hard that my head felt like it was hit with a bat. I got angry. I was real.

I've been hiding behind something...the identity that I've carried with me from my previous church. I didn't realize was the weight of the identity that I was portraying. I was wearing chain mail. This weekend, the chain mail was removed and melted down without me even realizing what was occuring.

This morning as I was getting dressed for church, I found myself much less self-conscious of what I wore. In church, I found myself surrounded by women. And I wasn't freaking out. I was in my element.

Back to the call to action. I have something to say, to add, to contribute. To women, to men, to the church, to the unchurched. I've known this since I was seven years old, preaching to my stuffed animals. Perhaps I've been surpressing this knowledge; perhaps hiding from the message that I have in my spirit. Now that the chain mail has been removed, I need to get the word out.

When the Potter decides that it is time, the word will go forth.

Weekend recap

For the record, I thoroughly enjoyed the women's retreat. Our speaker blew my mind. What she said, though it touched me, didn't rock my world. Instead, it confirmed in me so many things that God has spoken into my life recently. And that is a cool thing.

God did a work knitting my heart to some of the women in the church this weekend. I've wanted, for so long, to find some women with whom I can relate and bond. I want those women who are older than I who can impart something into my life...and with whom I can have relationship. And I believe that I have found them.

I didn't sleep all that much...ok, pretty much not at all. When I finally fell asleep, police cars...three of them to be exact...went roaring down the boardwalk, hotels blaring, right outside our balcony. Our hotel was at the end of the boardwalk in Ocean City, NJ, where the boardwalk is not that wide. It probably doesn't help that the doors to our balcony were open, but still. It scared the snot out of me.

I can't describe at length what God did in me. I believe that I will learn what He did as I live out the life that He has shown me will be. I am going to enjoy the fire moments, the dark room moments, the moments of laughter that makes my head hurt and my side cramp. In short, I am really learning to enjoy the daily living out of life.

Yes, I had my moments. I am fighting the whole Martha thing...and it is something that I will fight for a long time. There is a time to serve and a time to receive. I generally err on the side of doing too much, and when I do, I get snippy. I lose the blessing involved, and other people get snipped.

But, you know what? I'm learning. I'm learning to be vulnerable. I'm learning to be more teachable. And more than anything, I'm enjoying getting to know my Saviour through the amazing women (and men) that He has brought into my life.

But for now: it's sleepy time.

What happens in women's ministry.....

Stays in women's ministry. Unless you have a blogger in the crowd. Muahahaha....(that is supposed to translate into the laugh of a mad scientist...or a witch...)

Tonight I went to a meeting for our first annual Real Life Women's Retreat. I went in apprehensively. I know that we have some amazing women in my church, but that doesn't make it easier to consider spending an entire weekend together. In a small hotel. Without the autonomy of one's own car. When your greatest fear is a group of women in a small space.

So, tonight as we were discussing the food that will be served at the reception, I learned a lot of useful information. About the wonders of menopause. Hot flashes. Snoring. A myriad of things that make me want to invent anti-aging serum. I literally plugged my ears at one point. I almost started humming.

You see, I was inducted into some women's Ya-Ya Sisterhood tonight. If I tell of the specifics of the things I learned, I may become shark food sometime between Jan. 19 and the 20th.

Over the past few weeks, I've wanted to get to know some of the women in church. So, I am looking forward to having the opportunity to develop those relationships. I am willing to begin to let my guard down so that people get to know me.

So, I am going to the retreat. Cautiously optimistic. But I am going.

Purity

Throughout high school, people had a certain perception of me.

I didn't date until my senior year.

One of the fellows I dated was my friend, but a friend of ours convinced him that we should date. He tried to kiss me after homecoming and I...well...ducked my head and ran into the house, leaving him standing on my front step, speechless. That was, by far, my shining moment. Poor, poor guy.

Because I didn't date as much as my peers, people conceived the idea that I was...well...very pure. I was. That perception has followed me to this day.

That is a very difficult badge to wear.

You see, the fact of the matter is that there are mornings when I wake up alone and wonder, "Why? Why me Lord? Why is it taking so long?" My friends joke about why I'm single. We have a theory. The man who is man enough to marry me must be out wrestling lions and single-handedly fighting off tribes of cannibals. Poor guy. That will seem like nothing once he's married to me! :-)

It is not easy being sexually pure in this society. In case you live under a rock, sex is used as a marketing tool to sell anything and everything under the sun...cars, diapers, feminine products.

I decided when I was a young child that I wanted to wait until marriage to sleep with a man. I remember sitting on my wool, green carpet dedicating myself, body, mind and spirit to God. I remember promising God that I would wait to be married before I gave my body to anyone.

I remember crying the first time I broke that promise. I remember feeling my spirit die bit by bit everytime I broke that promise.

But, I also remember the moment that I decided enough is enough. I remember giving myself, body, mind and spirit to God once more. I remember Him washing me white as snow of the sins that I had commited. I remember how free I felt when I finally confessed to the One I love, and I choose not to abandon that freedom for a few minutes of gratification.

Chewing on this subject now, I realize that people see me as God sees me. I've taken offense to this so often. From this point forward, I will smile and look toward heaven whenever someone makes a comment.

As a brief addendum...please note that being alone does not equate to loneliness. I may not be married at the moment, but I am not lonely. I am enjoying this season on aloneness. I am learning that the holes in my life cannot be filled by people. They must be filled by the One who has called me into the season of aloneness.

And let me tell you...He is more than enough.

Headed to Beantown for a few

Well, after nearly six months of trying, I am finally headed back to Boston for a few days. When I return, I'll have my clothes, my shoes, my Tom Brady calendar, my favorite Bible. I can't wait.

I leave on Thursday afternoon and will return on Saturday afternoon. I'm fairly certain that 72 hours will be my maximum allowable exposure to Aunt Michelle and mom. I cannot wait to walk the streets that I love so dearly, smell the smells and take in the sights.

I wonder what it will be like to return to the streets with which I was so intimate for such a brief, intense period of my life. I'm sure that returning and leaving after so abbreviated an encounter will be bittersweet.

On a completely different note.

God is working out something in me that I have been...umm...I don't know whether the appropriate word is avoiding or ignoring. But alas, it has been brought to the forefront of my mind, and I'm going to be writing some things out.

Be afraid. Very afraid.

Real Life, part deux

I begin this by saying that I love the women of The Sanctuary. My mom attended our chick night, and she left with nothing negative to say. She thinks that the women of our church have really sweet spirits. For her to leave with that impression is a miracle. So, thank you!

Have I mentioned that I love the women of The Sanctuary? In your average church, when you ask a bunch of women to make their signature dessert and to bring recipe cards, you get a whole lot of desserts and a whole lot of recipe cards. You leave the place needing a cup of salt because you are just about in a sugar coma.

At The Sanctuary, you tell a group of women to bring a signature dessert and recipe cards. What you get is meat loaf, buffalo deviled eggs, hot cheesy dip, lasagna and a bunch of desserts, with only one available recipe card for the buffalo deviled eggs! I love that I am in a church where we are free to be ourselves...our original, zany, funny, irreverent knucklehead selves. There is no fear of being reprimanded for being original. There is no fear that people are going to make fun of you for the food that you brought. I think that we celebrate our uniqueness rather than fear it. What a place of freedom.

What is amazing as well is that the underlying tension I mentioned in my previous blog was obviously not present. I think that we all actually like each other. I didn't have the sense that anyone tried to control the evening...it was basically an organic night with one part flowing naturally into the next. The teaching was intense, but in the spirit of celebration, that shows her uniqueness as well.

I'm a bit less afraid of women's ministry. Just a little.

Real life, real issues

Tonight kicks off our women's ministry at The Sanctuary. We're getting together for dessert, recipe swapping and a short devotional. Women's ministry freaks me out.

In my previous experience, women's ministry began as a light-hearted tea with some deep morsels from God. It morphed into a militant good ol' gals club. I wasn't one of the cool kids; I wasn't accessorised enough and I didn't kiss enough butt. I wasn't invited into the club.

I'm reticent to engage a group of women. I don't know what it is about us, but there is this constant underlying tension for control. It all began in the third chapter of Genesis when the serpent lured Eve into splitting hairs about what God said, or more accurately questioning the validity of what God said. I know Satan was laughing when Eve died. I wonder if she felt a bitterness in her spirit as she took her last breath.

Genesis 3:6-7 says, "When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves."

As women, when we gain wisdom and knowledge, we want to disseminate the knowledge. We are nurturers, no matter what current psychology wants to tell you. We want to teach our kids to walk; we want to help our loved ones find healing; we want to teach the men in our lives to lift the toilet seat up before use of the toilet and put it down after use. Sometimes our wisdom is helpful and causes harmony and growth in the home. At other times, it causes pain and sometimes death.

I know that women have a voice. We have something valid to say, to add to the conversation. In the Bible, there are examples of amazing women--Rahab, Ruth, Deborah, Esther, Mary. These women knew under Whose authority they operated. Something in them innately bowed its knee to the Lordship of Jehovah, of Jesus Christ. But, there are examples of equally bad women. Jezebal is the most glaring example. She was given free reign--even over what gods to worship--and caused such fear in Elijah that he asked God to kill him.

Galatians 3:38 says, "There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." Obviously, God has given women a voice. I believe this voice has to be in the correct context and submitted to authority. Our generation needs a woman to stand up and be our voice, to be an example of what that life looks like. We need a role model. I look around at women in power, and I see noone that I want to emulate. Hilary Rodham Clinton and Nancy Pelosi seek to emacsulate men and create a female dominated society in which it is acceptable to kill the unborn because "it is our right." They want men to do their bidding. There are women in ministy whom I admire, but honestly none to whom I can relate.

I want a Proverbs 31 woman to follow--a woman who balances family life, the marketplace and ministry. I want to be a Proverbs 31 woman. Lately I've been wrestling with my desires. As long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a wife and a mother. Thanksgiving solidified these desires in me. I thoroughly enjoyed everything involved in preparing the house and the meal. But, as long as I can remember, I've also wanted to be a pastor. Yesterday cemented that is my spirit. I love telling groups of people what God is doing, and how God can, is and will work through their lives--though I admit I rambled because I was unprepared.

How can I reconcile two seemingly opposing desires? How can I live a balanced life, being a helpmate to my husband, mother to my children and a pastor? I'm willing to try. I'm willing to be a trailblazer. I'm willing to join in the women's ministry at The Sanctuary.

But know...I'm doing it afraid.