In Gennesaret

When I was a young wife and not yet a mother, I went on a women's retreat with my church. And it was an AMAZING weekend! Every worship service connected me with God. He spoke to me through every speaker. I kept a journal of his words to me, and they were deep and profound and desperately needed at that moment -- and I referred back to them often over the next few years. I went back the next year (and the next, I think) in great anticipation, expecting a similar experience. And yeah, it was fine . . . but it wasn't the same. I found myself trying to read into things I was hearing, looking for big messages from God for me. But they weren't there. It was disappointing all around. I thought of that retreat recently when I was listening to a podcast where Skye Jethani was talking about "Spectacle vs. Subtlety."  Specifically, he was referring to Jesus' raising of Lazarus and how it was clearly set up to intentionally be a spectacle. He waited until Lazarus had been...

Y’all. Last week . I teach at a University-Model® School, which means our parents are doing part of the teaching and coaching and mentoring at home. And that means we do parent training at the start of each year. Parents new to our school (and the model) have an extra day, then we have a full day with everyone – plus a Back to School Night where the kids are invited to come meet their teachers and see their classrooms. On top of that, of course, is the regular staff training and workdays that always start a school year. There are policies and procedures to review and update, security protocols to practice, professional development to help us grow and improve as educators. So, last week. Last week was that week. We have one more day of staff training this Tuesday, but otherwise, it was all last week.  Add to that the fact that I am an admin and I was involved in leading a lot of that training myself. I ran meetings and made presentations all week long . Add to that the f...

So, here is an interesting thought I heard sometime over the summer: salvation in the early church was not about going to heaven. And that’s a rather bizarre concept to those of us who grew up in evangelical churches which were ALL about getting people to heaven. Pray the prayer and receive the get-out-of-hell-free card. It may come as quite a shock to many of the churched from my generation, but those first people to be called Christian would probably be confused by what is labeled as The Gospel these days. I mean, yes, they were aware that when they got “saved”, they would end up in heaven after they died. But that was not why they chose Jesus as their Lord. It had very little to do with where they were going to end up for eternity. They were grateful for that gift, of course, but that wasn’t the focus. It was not about getting saved. It was about BEING saved. Like, for right now .  This was a rather foreign concept to my well-churched young self. And I’m still working ...

Today (the day I’m posting this, not the day I’m writing it) is my mother’s birthday. Wilma Louise was born on July 20 th , 1923. She was a remarkable woman, as anyone who knew her could testify. (And feel free to do so in the comments here, friends.) I am celebrating her life today by baking oatmeal cookies – my MOM’s oatmeal cookies. Because they are different than anyone else’s somehow. They are hers. And they scream Wilma Louise. I believe my nieces and nephews have said before that one of their favorite memories of their grandmother was the bag of oatmeal cookies that would always be in the freezer when they came over. I could go on for quite a while about my mother . . . and I believe I have in a previous post somewhere out there. But as I mix up the dough for these cookies to refrigerate overnight, there is one thought that keeps popping up in my brain: what will people do to remember me someday? Not that I expect my kids to do something special on my birthday each year. H...

[ Another revisit from my previous blog -- written eleven years ago. I now think the American church faces a different threat . . . but much of this still applies.] Our Sunday School teacher used that phrase yesterday. Mainstreams and margins . Our society tends to refer to "majorities" and "minorities," but I think these terms are more accurate. You can be a statistical majority and still be on the margins of society. It's not about the numbers. In the context of our discussion, the teacher asked us to consider situations in our lives when we have been in either camp. When have you been in the margins? And when you were, what were your thoughts and feelings about those in the mainstream? Conversely, when you've been in the mainstream, how did you think and feel about those in the margins? We were examining passages in Acts about conflict resolution -- specifically Acts 15, when the Council in Jerusalem had to make a decision about circumcision. Do Gentiles ...

[A post from my previous blog that I just rediscovered - enjoy]   It's a sad thing when you are convicted by your own words. In Sunday School last weekend, I made a brilliant and insightful remark that everyone ooh'd and aah'd over. (At least, that's my recollection of the moment.) We were discussing how we distinguish the Holy Spirit's communication with us from our own self-promoting desires speaking to us. And I mentioned a lesson I learned many years ago: if I really want to hear clearly from God on a matter, I have to put myself in a neutral stance on that matter. I have to get myself to the point that I am genuinely willing to obey God in whatever He says -- even if it is the complete opposite of what I want, even if it makes my life difficult or possibly downright miserable, even if I lose friends and loved ones as a result -- whatever you want, Lord, that's what I want. I am in complete submission. Once I'm there, I usually find God's will is qu...