quote

"If your church were to close its doors tomorrow, how bad would that hurt your community?"

Just a Spoon Full of Seeker Sensitive

My mom and stepdad drove up from Houston to attend Josh’s 2nd birthday party last weekend. I asked them if they’d heard of a Christian band called, Leeland, of whom I am a big fan. I had mentioned that we have sung some of their songs in our new worship service geared at ministering to the more emergent generation in our congregation.

She asked if emergent was like being seeker sensitive. I started talking about how the culture has changed, and up out of it has emerged this group of Christians who desperately want to follow the teachings of Jesus just as He intended and want to reach the world with His message. As I understand it, they want their faith to propel them into being more active in God’s purposes, and they want the gospel to mean what it says instead of what we want to hear.

She said that she had asked because she is against seeker sensitive churches. And I can’t blame her. When I first heard the words ‘seeker sensitive,’ I got all excited and began dreaming of people reaching out and showing the world the grace of God. I imagined heaven’s future population counter just spinning around and around at an increasing speed as more and more people came to acknowledge Jesus as their Savior. But as it turned out, when I would watch these churches’ sermons on TV or read some of the books about them, the gospel seemed watered down to meet the people where they were. It sounded sugar coated because no one was talking about sin or the realities of punishment for those sins. It was telling them what they could get out of salvation rather than what God should get. I wanted so badly to attend a church who thought intentionally about the unbelieving world and not just focusing on their own flock, but I didn’t want to get caught up in treating God like He was a slot machine or a genie in a bottle, here only to fulfill my silly desires.

I remember writing to a friend a while back and asking about whether he thought it was ok for these people to be going to church only to leave in a feel-good daze similar to an opium high. I wondered how can you be challenged to rely on God, increase your faith, and walk in an awareness of your sinful nature and thus need for Jesus’ atoning sacrifice if you believe you are sinless? If you’re not telling people the ugly realities of life, you’re doing the gospel and the world a disservice.

The Word of God is wonderful in its entirety, and we are wired to understand it enough to accept it without having to leave out the parts that make us uncomfortable. If we think we can reach this culture without acknowledging that we are ALL screwed up by nature and need Him, we might as well shut our doors completely.

Do I think all seeker sensitive churches are like this? Good grief, NO! I even happen to believe all churches MUST be sensitive to those seeking God. But we don’t have to offer them a diluted version of Christianity. They WANT it all to be real. They WANT it all to affect them to change. If they didn’t want a change, they wouldn’t be seeking a change! It’s ok to tell them that they are messed up and only one thing can fix them, unlike what the culture is telling them. We don’t want the church to be seen as another escape from the pressures and pain of life. We want it to teach us how to manage our lives and our problems, not ignore them or run away from them. We want the church to teach us about the character of God and why Jesus chose to sacrifice Himself in order to bring us into a relationship with the Father. We want the church to equip us to do the same to a world desperate for the real thing and not just the counterfeit, 10-minutes-to-a-better-you culture. And we want it to really pay off. If we teach the real Gospel, it surely will.

birthday boy

On Friday, my son Joshua will be 2 years old. I can actually still remember the exact night he was conceived. I knew I was pregnant the second it happened. Of course, I officially found out a few weeks later, but it only confirmed what I already knew. To me, that's pretty cool! He has brought so much joy and excitement to my life. All throughout my pregnancy with him, I worried that he would disrupt our family, but instead, he has added so much. I had worried that I wouldn't be able to love my daughter as much if I had to share my heart with another child, but I have been so amazed by how my love seemed to expand without being stretched too thin. I had worried that I wouldn't have a clue what to do with a boy, but again it just became natural and enjoyable after a while.

I didn't have the ooey gooey feelings of anticipation and excitement when I was pregnant with Josh. With my daughter, I had been so in love with her from the second I found out I was pregnant. Fear set in later, in fact it came in as soon as I saw her. I don't know if I expected her to be a Cabbage Patch doll or what, but after 9 months of preparing for a child, I was shocked to see that I had just given birth to a baby. With Josh, I knew what I was getting into, and although I chose to have another child, my hormones kept this distance between us all throughout the pregnancy. 9 months of wondering why I didn't have the same feelings as I had had with my first kiddo drove me nuts, and I clearly remember wanting to run away from the hospital the day he was due to be born.

I had an emergency c-section with my daughter, and I had elected to have another c-section with my son. When I was delivering Gillian, it was so different because I had been in labor for hours, and welcomed the idea of an epideral. With Josh, the desperation for pain relief wasn't there, and I had a hard time being ok with getting a long, thick needle shoved into my back. I was too clear headed and alert, I think. I didn't have the confusion and endorphins flowing that would have numbed the awareness of fear. I don't really know. Up until 15 minutes before he was born, I was a wreck. A precious lady from our church who ministers to those in the hospital had come to pray with me, and it gave me strength to stop thinking of myself long enough to be brave for my little guy. I will treasure that time she spent with me praying my stress away. I remember being all numb from the waist down and praying for my son, when all of a sudden it hit me: I love him. I had trusted that God would give me the feelings when I would need them, and He certainly waited until the last possible moment to fulfill that for me! It was in that moment that I became very eager to hold and love my sweet son.

It's now two years later, and I love my son more than ever. He's such a groovy kid. I pray that he continues to enjoy life and grow strong.

"Grow old along with me; the best is yet to be!" - Robert Browning

Happy Birthday Josh!

From the mind of a 4 year old

My sweet daughter Gillian is 4 ½ years old. Recently, she has had some interesting things to say about God. I cherish being able to talk to her about these things.

We visited IKEA in December 2006 in order to purchase a play floor mat that was on sale. Upon walking up to the entrance, Gillian was struck by how big the letters I-K-E-A were on the side of the building. Looking up, she said “Wow, Mom! Those letters are bigger than God!” After I’d finished laughing, I asked her how big she thought God was. She said, “Like Daddy, only a little bit bigger.” Now, Ben is 6’2”, but that doesn't really do justice to know big God is. Knowing that we had been looking at globes and maps recently, I asked her to consider how small Frisco is compared to Texas and then how small Texas is compared the rest of the world. Then I asked her, “If He can see the whole world with His eyes, imagine how big His head is?” Her eyes grew to the size of saucers, and I knew the point had been received.

God is bigger than we can comprehend, and although I don’t know if His Head is larger than the earth, I just wanted her to understand that God is a lot larger than she was giving Him credit for. I know it’s hard for a 4 year old to understand how God can rule the whole world and yet be involved in the simplest details of our lives. Heck, it’s hard for this 30 year old to understand. But I’m trying the best I can to help her navigate through her thoughts.

Here’s something that happened last week. It was the middle of the night, and I heard Gillian crying. I just figured perhaps she had not made it to the bathroom in time, and although I was right about that, there was something else making her upset. It took me a good while to understand what was wrong, but in the end I discovered much to my shock, that she was saying that she didn’t want to go to heaven. After I asked a few more questions, I realized that she is afraid of heights and had apparently been taught that heaven is up in the sky. She was worried about falling. Poor thing. I tried to assure her as best I could that God would keep her safe in heaven, and I thought I had gotten through to her.

But the next night, within 5 minutes of my laying her down, she started crying again. She told me that she didn’t want to go to heaven, but that she wanted to stay on earth. I asked her if she was scared of heights again, and she said no. After a few more questions, I figured out that she was afraid of being taken away from those people and those things she loves. I told her (and I pray that it is true) that by the time she gets to heaven, we will all be there waiting to welcome her, and that it will be a celebration because we will all be together with God who loves us. She seemed to like this idea and calmed down. She hasn’t brought it up since, but I know it won’t be the last time.

This morning, as I was checking email, her little voice tugged at my heart, and I grabbed her up into my lap and gave her hugs until she cried ‘mercy’ (It’s a little game that I taught her to teach her about mercy. I figured it was better than her calling me ‘uncle.’). She told me that she loved me more than God loves me. I thought that was so sweet!! I just said, “Really? Is that possible?” She vigorously nodded her head and added “At least I try.”

Gillian is really smart and asks some deep questions sometimes, questions that scores of books have been written about, issues that have been debated by our greatest thinkers. It’s a struggle for me to remember that she’s only 4. I can’t wait to see how God shapes her thoughts and draws her into a fruitful relationship with Him.

Where are you from?

I was prompted to write this after stumbling upon a blog called "Fragments from Floyd." Fred, the writer of the blog, posted a poem by George Ella Lyons called "Where I'm From." He broke down the poem into an outline, and the format he provided for me to write my own poem was irresistable.

The information about the poem and the outline can be found on his blog at http://www.fragmentsfromfloyd.com/archives/2003_11.html

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I am from swing sets, from Jif Peanut Butter and suitcases of Nancy Drew mysteries.

I am from the two storied, grey bricked home built just for us in a new neighborhood where the hammering of nails and the grit of sawdust filled our street for years.

I am from earthworms and raccoon eyes, the crape myrtle tree in my Mamaw and Papaw’s backyard.

I am from reading “Twas the night before Christmas” every Christmas Eve and strong bonds, from Diane and Richard and David, from Rogers and Gosnays.

I am from rushed Friday nights before the ball game, little league dugouts and the cheering section at my brothers’ and sister’s events.

From beauty and ashes.

I am from the imagination of God, knit together in my mother’s womb, prepared for such a time as this, to mirror His love back into the world.

I’m from Houston, Texas, apple dumplings and peanut butter fudge.

From the kind and compassionate act of a Texas Ranger who rescued a tortured man from certain death, later the father of two men, and the grandfather of my ancestors. What once was captive is now free.

I am from a family who likes to mark their fish, from music and art and dance, from game nights and nachos and weeks of preparing for Christmas Eve skits, from ninja turtle stepdads and posters of boys on the walls, from creating a world where little sisters, afraid of the dark, can find comfort and rest, from film scores and burger joint churches and metal garbage can horses, a tapestry of love knit together by the very Hand of God.

God of Wonders

In my prayers the other night, the thought occurred to me that perhaps the reason why the universe is so immense is to give us something to be comfortable with that we are not able to comprehend. I believe the only way we would be comfortable with a God so enormous that we cannot understand all of Him is to have experienced being ok with our inability to fully comprehend something else with which we are comfortable. With space, we are drawn to it; we want to know it more. We don’t deny the existence of the parts we haven’t explored. We’re ok feeling small and ignorant in comparison with the richness and depth of it all. Maybe that is why I’m ok feeling small and ignorant in comparison with the depth and richness of God.