humble pie was the key

Last Sunday, I was sitting in my pew, minding my own business. Things have been going well. Our children seem to be in good places in their lives - learning through struggles, enjoying successes. Larry and I are fine. Things have been humming along.
One of the pastors approached me about 20 minutes before church was to start and said the organist would not be there that morning and could I play piano for church. Just that morning, as I was driving in to Sunday School, I had thought to myself how I haven't played the piano at home in over a year and that I should really dust off both it - and myself!! God seemed to be saying that the time to start was right then!!
I quickly practiced in another room. Things didn't sound too good but the clock ticked right to the last moment. Time to go!!
As I sat up there, a bit nervous, a bit trembly, I realized - once again - that God owns me. He was doing just what He wanted to do with me. He wanted to humble me. He would use my complete weakness and total imperfection to humble me. The morning progressed better than the practice session earlier that morning but my playing was far from perfect, far from good, maybe just OK. But somewhere during the acapella of the first hymn, I asked God to take my hands and make them His to do whatever He wanted. More than that, I asked Him to take my attitude and make it His, as well. No one likes to be embarassed. The potential for that was high on the embarass-o-meter. I chose to score high on the willing-o-meter that day.
I'd like to say I played better after my change of heart. I didn't. But I did manage to calm down. I managed to stop shaking. I managed to sing several of the verses. I managed to let God do whatever he wanted to do with my hands. He let them play, He let me be humbled, He let me enjoy the morning.
It's easier to see God when things are out of my control, and out of control things were!! And so, I saw God work in me Sunday morning.

godly wastefulness

Last week's sermon was, "Lent is about wastefulness."
That got everyone's attention. It was an encouraging sermon about enjoying God in lavish, even wasteful ways as Mary did when she poured out $15,000 worth of oil on Jesus' feet. Judas pointed out, as we might have done, that it could have been given to the poor. Rather than agree with Judas, Jesus commended Mary.
This lovely sunny, breezy SoCal Saturday morning, I sat down to read a bit. I pulled "Angels in the Architecture" off my shelf and opened to the chapter "Worshiping With Body". I will close here with the first few paragraphs of the chapter.

We so often lead lives forgetful of the fact that our God is very shocking. Amidst all our fragile piety and devouring busyness, we have a Lord who steps in and COMMANDS us such things as, "Thou shalt bestow that money for whatsoever thy soul lusteth after, for oxen, or for sheep, or for wine, or for strong drink, or for whatsoever they soul desireth; and thou shalt eat there before the Lord thy God, and thou shalt rejoice, thou, and thine household". (Deut, 15:26) Such unthriftiness. Such waste. Such gluttony. Such winebibbing. Such is a command of our Holy God.

For some reason foreign to our modern ears, God tell us that celebration is central to pleasing Him; it is central to leading a good life. Modern American life has no time for serious celebrations as did life in centuries past. We've got work to do; projects and deadlines press us. And yet for all our industrial-strength pragmatism, few if any truly important things get accomplished. We have forgotten that celebration isn't just an option; it's a call to full Christian living.
Celebration is worshiping God with our bodies, with the material creation He has set up around us. Celebration - whether in feasts, ceremonies, holidays, formal worship, or lovemaking - are all part of obeying God's command to "love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul and with all thy strength" (Deut. 6:5; Mk. 12:30). We are to show our love for God not just with one portion of our being (the spiritual aspect); we are to love God with our whole body, heart and strength and legs and lips.

Complaint is the flag of ingratitude, and it waves above the center of unbelieving hearts - "when they knew God, they glorified him not as God, neither were thankful" (Rom. 1:21). Yet by grace, God's redemption and creation ought to keep us in a perpetual state of thanks which bursts out in celebration at every opportunity.

He depicts this redemption not in terms of intellectual satisfaction or quiet piety but in terms of an extravagant feast: "And in this mountain shall the LORD of hosts make unto all people a feast of fat things, a feast of wines on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wines on the lees well refined" (Is. 25:6) - choice pieces, well--refined wines and fat things!! - all the blessings which anemic moderns say we shouldn't have. Redemption doesn't appear to be a low-cal, cholesterol-free affair.
Douglas Jones, p. 79, 80

lifting holy hands

More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
For what are men better than sheep or goats
That nourish a blind life within the brain,
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
Both for themselves and those who call them friend?
For so the whole round earth is every way
Bound by gold chains around the feet of God.


Tennyson,
Mort D'Arthur

thank you, Sarah, for the pic!!

a weekly family reunion

We had just come from a wonderful Divine Worship service - beautiful singing, powerful preaching.

We headed out to Christ Church's first picnic of the year. It was Palm Sunday. Upper 70's. Citrus in the air. We had a full table of summer food - pulled pork for sandwiches. Cole slaw. Fresh vegetables. Watermelon. Cookies. Brownies. Double-frosted cupcakes. Icy cold drinks.

As I sat eating and visiting, I looked around. Children of all ages playing together on the playground equipment. Peacefully. Happily. Teens, 20 somethings and 30 somethings playing basketball and sweating hard. Girlfriends and wives and friends were watching. Pastor Garrett playing catch with his daughter. Two young women playing volleyball in the round with some girls. Men discussing theology and the championship basketball game as they kept an eye on children so wives could visit and eat. A grandma enjoying her grandchildren - and her children. Visitors eating with the regulars and laughing. One of the young men - a college graduate cleaning up the playground. Uncle M. spinning, flipping, twirling, balancing kids.

The hours flew by. Suddenly, it was 3:15. The first picnic of the year came to an end. We had fallen in love with Jesus more, with each other more that day. We had worshiped, been fed, then fed each other. We are a family.

thanks to Sarah for the pictures