A "Rich" Legacy

It's been 15 years since Rich Mullins passed away. I've been seeing it all over Facebook: tributes, old recordings, and such. This morning I played the 2 albums that I had on my iPod while I worked. I found myself questioning why I only had 2 albums on my iPod when I knew that I had more of his albums at home in my collection. (Yes, I still have an extensive CD collection. So sue me.) I realized that part of the reason was because I haven't listened to very much Rich Mullins since I got my iPod in 2007.

Why in the world would I not really listen to much Rich Mullins for 5 years? Good question. In reality, it has been more like 6 years. I hadn't even realized that I had done it until today. My ex-boyfriend was a huge fan of Rich Mullins [And "fan" is really an understatement] and when I broke off our almost 4-year long distance relationship in 2006, I apparently broke off my love for Rich Mullins music as well. It got me thinking; what else have I let go by the wayside since then? The best way I could think to describe it was like it was the opposite of Julia Roberts' character Maggie in "Runaway Bride." Maggie only ate the same kind of eggs as the man that she was with, never knowing what she actually liked because she was trying to be like him. I guess I felt like I couldn't like Rich anymore because that was his thing. The thing is that I liked Rich long before I even met him. I can't even count how many times I listened to "Hold Me, Jesus" in college. In fact, he entire "A Liturgy, A Legacy, & A Ragamuffin Band" album was in constant rotation in the room that Tracy Lee and I shared my freshman & sophomore year. I even worked at a Ragamuffins concert in the Spring of '99 in St. Louis with our CCM Seminar class. His music is such a part of my history. How could I leave that on the sidelines for 6 years?

I'm sitting here this evening listening to the "Jesus Demos" and wishing that I had never stopped listening to this man sing stories about our Lord. There are so many things to learn from the stories and the songs. Rich got it. He understood, at least in part, how this life was meant to be lived. He understood how to be a child of God and be ok with being a "child." I feel like I have to have it all together. I've lost that child-like wonder that brings me close to Him. I need to revisit the things that I've put on the sidelines. The books that I gave away, the music that has just been sitting up on the shelf. I'm not controlled by the past or the things that are in it. I am a child of God. I am loved by Him not because the things that I have or haven't done in the past, but because I was drawn to Him and put my faith in Him.

This is a really hard thing for me to write about. I don't like to talk about that part of my life. It seems like another lifetime ago. It is part of me, though, and the Lord brought me through it. I can't regret what happened. It is part of my story, like it or not. I am still His beloved child. I need to remember that. Maybe this is just what I needed.

"I will never doubt His promise though I doubt my heart - I doubt my eyes
My Deliverer is coming - My Deliverer is standing by"

~"My Deliverer" The Jesus Record (Rich Mullins/Mitch McVicker)

Hi, my name is Anxiety and I'm, well, anxious

I am anxious. I always have been. I hate it. I hate having my mind jump to the worst possible conclusion. I hate not trusting my Lord. I have struggled with it for years. I have even been on medication for it at one point when it was making me so physically sick that I had lost tons of weight. I lay awake at night and sometimes have to use a relaxation script (thank you, podcasts!) to calm myself down and get to a place where I can slow my mind down enough to fall asleep.

A week ago Friday (7/8), I heard this broadcast of Erwin Lutzer's "Running to Win:" Renamed By Christ. I've heard this sort of message before, but this time it really hit me. Maybe because it was out of the blue or perhaps it was because of a particular phrase that he said. He was talking about coming to the place where we can admit our position to Christ. He said that we should come saying,

"'My name is Anxiety.' Then Jesus can say I'm going to rename you and call you peace."

My name is peace. No, literally, it is. My middle name is Irene.

Irene is a name derived from the Greek word εἰρήνη (eiréné) meaning "peace".

How have I lived for all these years acting the complete opposite of my given name? I know where my hope lies. I know who guides my life. Matthew 6:27 says, "And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?" I don't know why I do it, but I know that it certainly isn't adding anything to my life other than more sorrow. And I was not made to live in sorrow.

I've been stewing over how to write this out and if I should post about it for over a week now. This past Friday, I decided that I really needed to. You see, Friday afternoon, Ben lost his job. He's been with his company for just over a year and has worked his tail off on the job and in the apprenticeship schooling program (electrician). Due to a boss losing money and Ben being in the wrong place at the wrong time (in the way of someone looking to get rid of someone on the job), he received a termination notice on Friday.

I have watched my sweet husband display the exact opposite of anxiety in the past few days. I have watched him display complete trust in a sovereign God who takes care of his children. I have watched him take care of me as I worry (surprise!) about what will happen and if we'll be able to pay all of our bills next month. I have watched him tear up at God's provision for us through our church family, who have already flooded him with contacts for job possibilities. I have watched him get excited about finally having the time to meet with men in the church that he hasn't had time to meet with due to an hour commute that started anywhere from 4:45 to 5:45 am.

Again and again, he has reminded me, not even knowing that I have been going over this in my head for a week.

Something that has also really helped me is praying through Psalm 23. Our Community Group has been using this strategy for praying. Taking a verse at a time and praying through that particular verse. Amazingly enough (ok, not really), by the time I get through the 4th or 5th verse, I'm already starting to calm down enough that I start to fall asleep.

I know that I have not conquered this sin. I know that I have miles to go, and that, in fact, it will be a lifelong journey. It is a constant placing of my anxious thoughts under his sovereign care. And there is no one better to give them to than my Lord.

excitement on a friday night

It's Friday night and I'm sitting at Mitchell's coffeehouse reading and reflecting. Yeah, I know. I feel like I'm doing a lot of that lately. I've been learning a lot about contentment lately. (Yes, we're back to that again...) Real contentment. As in "...for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances." That kind of contentment. What I'm learning is that I am not. I do not focus on the things that I should be focusing on. It's no wonder that I can't find contentment. So that is my project for the week. For the rest of the month. For the rest of my life.

the God who heals

(Women's Bible Study reflections based on the "Glory Questions": Meditating on God's Word to be Transformed from Glory to Glory)

Acts 3:1-10
Now Peter and John were going up to the temple at the ninth hour, the hour of prayer. And a man who had been lame from his mother's womb was being carried along, whom they used to set down every day at the gate of the temple which is called Beautiful, in order to beg alms of those who were entering the temple. When he saw Peter and John about to go into the temple, he began asking to receive alms. But Peter, along with John, fixed his gaze on him and said, "Look at us!" And he began to give them his attention, expecting to receive something from them. But Peter said, "I do not possess silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you: In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene--walk!" And seizing him by the right hand, he raised him up; and immediately his feet and his ankles were strengthened. With a leap he stood upright and began to walk; and he entered the temple with them, walking and leaping and praising God. And all the people saw him walking and praising God; and they were taking note of him as being the one who used to sit at the Beautiful Gate of the temple to beg alms, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.

God can heal. He heals the physical. Even more difficult is the healing of the heart and He does that as well. Through Christ, we are healed in mind and spirit. We may still bear outward infirmities, but we are given the power and the tools (Scripture, His Spirit) to be made whole. He takes broken lives, lives that have given up, lives that have been given up on and restores them. We have no choice but to go into His temple and praise Him. Rejoicing over Him who took us from our despair and brought us into His rest and His love. If we truly lived in this, lives would be different. Relationships would be easier because we would view those around us with the same eyes that we were viewed with by God. This should cause us to enter His temple with praises, but since we so often choose not to live in this manner, we seldom return to Him the praise that is due Him. It is easier to live in or brokenness, telling ourselves that we are, in fact, no broken at all. The more we tell ourselves that, the more we believe it. We find those “friends” who will feed into that lie and ignore the counsel of those friends (true friends) who will speak truth and the knowledge of His healing into our hearts. The world tells us it is ok to be broken. And it is, but that brokenness is no an end, as they would have you believe, but rather a jumping off point from which the healing can begin. Refusing to be open to the healing that is so necessary condemns us to a life of bitterness and often solitude, as we no longer trust those around us. In order to live a life that is open to healing, we must trust those around us to speak His truth into our hearts and minds. We must be continually in the Word, “continually devoting [ourselves] to prayer”, as it says over and over again of the disciples. This means even when we don’t feel like it. Even when we’ve slid back and aren’t feeling “whole” or “healed” at the present moment. Of all the ways to receive His words of healing and promise, I need to work on meditating on His Word. This tool of the Glory Questions is giving me the opportunity to do so. I just need to continue to grow in the discipline of doing it. The encouragement of those around me in Bible Study is a great help toward this end…or beginning, as it truly is.

following up

Ok, so my last post was a little bit melancholy. I admit it. It happens sometimes. But here's the thing, there really isn't anything wrong with being discontent. It all depends on what your discontent is focused on. When I first wrote the post I was feeling a general discontent with my life as it is: still single, at that point not doing something that I really loved, not really doing much with music. Basically, I was having a pity party. (As Lindy would say, "complete with decorations and a cake") What I have come to realize after writing that and really meditating on it (and have meant to write for several weeks now) is that I should be discontent, but not with those things. I should be discontent with how I spend my time. I should be discontent with the way that I spend my money. I should be discontent with the way that I sometimes treat my friends.

A restless longing for better circumstances

That is how I should feel about those kinds of things. And so, I am now going to leave my apartment on this beautiful spring day and ride my bike (and not waste gas) and enjoy the gift that God has given me today.

Grace & Peace.

finding strength...

In light of some recent discussions, I felt that I needed to revisit my "Now, Discover Your Strengths" book. I had taken the StrengthsFinder my senior year in college. I always remember my number one strength because, let's face it, anyone who knows me knows that I am an empathetic person. I can never remember the rest, though, so I thought I would try to see how these forgotten strengths play out in my life as well.


Of course, the flipside of our greatest strengths is the fact that they are often our greatest weaknesses as well. Yeah. Such fun. This is the other reason that I wanted to revisit them. To see where I am most vulnerable. Of course, it is really no surprise that, pretty much, all of my strengths are relational or at least play out in a more relational way. They are (with descriptions):


Empathy:


You can sense the emotions of those around you. You can feel what they are feeling as though their feelings are your own. Intuitively, you are able to see the world through their eyes and share their perspective. You do not necessarily agree with each person's perspective. You do not necessarily feel pity for each person's predicament: this would be sympathy, not Empathy. You do not necessarily condone the choices each person makes, but you do understand. This instinctive ability to understand is powerful. You hear the unvoiced questions. You anticipate the need. Where others grapple for words, you seem to find the right words and the right tone. You help people find the right phrases to express their feelings to themselves as well as to others. You help them give voice to their emotional life. For all these reasons other people are drawn to you.


Developer:


You see the potential in others. Very often, in fact, potential is all you see. In your view no individual is fully formed. On the contrary, each individual is a work in progress, alive with possibilities. And you are drawn toward people for this very reason. When you interact with others, your goal is to help them experience success. You look for ways to challenge them. You devise interesting experiences that can stretch them and help them grow. And all the while you are on the lookout for the signs of growth, a new behavior learned or modified, a slight improvement in a skill, a glimpse of excellence or of "flow" where previously there were only halting steps. For you these small increments, invisible to some, are designs of potential being realized. These signs of growth in others are your fuel. They bring you strength and satisfaction. Over time many will seek you out for help and encouragement because on some level they know that your helpfulness is both genuine and fulfilling to you.


Adaptability:


You live in the moment. You don't see the future as a fixed destination. Instead, you see it as a place that you create out of the choices that you make right now. And so you discover your future one choice at a time. This doesn't mean that you don't have plans. You probably do. But his theme of Adaptability does enable you to respond willingly to the demands of the moment even if they pull you away from your plans. Unlike some, you don't resent sudden requests or unforeseen detours. You expect them. They are inevitable. Indeed, on some level you actually look forward to them. You are, at heart, a very flexible person who can stay productive when the demands of work are pulling you in many different directions at once.


Connectedness:


Things happen for a reason. You are sure of it. You are sure of it because in your soul you know that we are all connected. Yes, we are individuals, responsible for our own judgments and in possession of our own free will, but nonetheless we are part of something larger. Some may call it the collective unconscious. Others may label it spirit or life force. But whatever your word of choice, you gain confidence from knowing that we are not isolated from one another or from the earth and the life on it. This feeling of Connectedness implies certain responsibilities. If we are all part of a larger picture, then we must not harm others because we will be harming ourselves. We must not exploit because we will be exploiting ourselves. Your awareness of these responsibilities creates your value system. You are considerate, caring and accepting. Certain of the unity of humankind, you are a bridge builder for people of different cultures. Sensitive to the invisible hand, you can give others comfort that there is a purpose beyond our humdrum lives. The exact articles of your faith will depend on your upbringing and our culture, but your faith is strong. It sustains you and your close friends in the face of life's mysteries.


Intellection:


You like to think. You like mental activity. You like exercising the "muscles" of your brain, stretching them in multiple directions. This need for mental activity may be focused; for example, you may be trying to solve a problem or develop an idea or understand another person's feelings. The exact focus will depend on your other strengths. On the other hand, this mental activity may very well lack focus. The theme of Intellection does not dictate what you are thinking about; it simply describes that you like to think. You are the kind of person who enjoys your time alone because it is your time for musing and reflection. You are introspective. In a sense you are your own best companion, as you pose yourself questions and try out answers on yourself to see how they sound. This introspection may lead you to a slight sense of discontent as you compare what you are actually doing with all the thoughts and ideas that your mind conceives. Or this introspection may tend toward more pragmatic matters such as the events of the day or a conversation that you plan to have later. Wherever it leads you, this mental hum is one of the constants of your life.


So, yeah. Basically that would mean that I feel other people's emotions as I'm seeing their potential in the unforeseen circumstances, realizing that there is a greater force behind it as I process all of it over and over again until every possible scenario has been played out. What the heck?!? No wonder I'm so exhausted all the time!


****UPDATE****


Since I wrote this on the plane last night, I bought "StrengthsFinder 2.0" and plan to retake the test to see if my strengths are still what they were 6 years ago. So, stay tuned folks. I'm determined to figure out this jumbled mess inside my head.

on second glance... (or has anyone seen september?)

(Listening to: "Keep Breathing", Ingrid Michaelson)

Have you ever looked up and thought that you saw someone that you recognized? Someone that you haven't seen in a very long time, but you're certain that you know. I have. The stranger part is that I realized that she was me. I looked up and saw the me that is usually hiding somewhere deep inside. Somehow she worked her way out. I don't know how she did it, but I'm glad that she did. I have felt more me in the past few weeks than I have in the past few years. I'm dancing again. I laugh a lot. I have no problem being my silly, crazy self. I'm still processing it all, but I know that this is a good thing. I let her sleep for too long.

And yes, you heard me right: I'm dancing again. I've been swing dancing for the last month after almost a 7 year hiatus. My friend, Tom, mentioned that he had been going dancing and invited a bunch of us to go. That was at the end of August and I've been going ever since. I even competed in a Jack and Jill (when they pair you up with random partners) Jitterbug Competition on Sunday night at the weekly dance. (Yes, I know...I assure you that this really is Heather writing this) As if that wasn't enough, the weekend of October 5th-7th, I'm going to the Swing Dance USA Convention in St. Petersburg. In fact, the only reason that I'm not dancing tonight is because I was supposed to have Community Group. Unfortunately, I am sick and couldn't even get up the energy to do that. I have already decided that I will be better by Thursday night so that I can go. (Yes, I go approx. 3 times a week...why don't you?) Hopefully that will be the case.

So, I guess that's where September has gone in part. All I know is that it's now fall and that makes me smile. All I need now is for the trees to change and for the leaves to fall so that I can go sit and read in a pile of leaves. I suppose that I will have to wait until the end of the month when I go up to Greenville for Homecoming/Reunion weekend. That's right! Look out GC, here I come! Until then I'll just have to pretend that it's sweater weather by playing my "autumn albums" and burning my candles.

the love of God

I wasn't tired yet, so I haven't been able to even think about going to bed. Instead, I started looking through the things that I received from my grandmother after she passed away this spring. I was very blessed to get several of her hymnals and songbooks. My grandmother was a pianist and organist from her teens all the way up until a few years ago when the Parkinson's made it too difficult for her to play any longer. I was flipping through some of the books (VERY carefully, since they are quite old!) and looking for some of the "good old hymns" that I remember from when I was growing up. While I was looking through the last book, "Favorite Radio Hymns and Stories:, I came across one of my favorites, "The Love of God." I love the imagery in the song, especially the last verse. I've had the last verse posted on my myspace page for some time now. I was very surprised when I read the footnote at the bottom of the hymn. It reads,

*The last stanza of this song was penciled on the wall of a narrow room of an asylum by a man said to have been demented. The profound lines were discovered after his death.

I keep getting goosebumps.

I can't even fathom that. I'm going to let that simmer in my mind for now. And I'll leave you with the last verse to let it rattle in your heads as well:

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made;
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Tho' stretched from sky to sky.

restore to me...

Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit. Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. (Psalm 51:12-13)

This is our memory verse in Community Bible Reading (www.joincbr.com) for this week. I have it taped up on my computer at work and as I was looking at it this morning it struck me that so often you see the first verse, but that the following verse is left out. Actually, more often that not, it is just the beginning of the first verse: Restore to me the joy of your salvation! Why? For the good of me, right? Wrong! Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. Wait, I have to work? It's amazing that we forget that part of it. I know that I do. Most days, I'm content knowing that I have the joy of His salvation. I don't really want to think about having a willing spirit and certainly don't want to think about teaching transgressors your ways. Am I really that selfish? Apparently, the answer is "yes." These are the kinds of things that we need to check ourselves on. And it would seem that I am coming up lacking. Luckily, it isn't completely up to me. This is where the second part of verse 12 comes in: ...and uphold me with a willing spirit. It isn't our spirit after all. We are being upheld by His spirit. Once we know what to ask for it doesn't make the task seem as daunting. Of course, the only way to know is to read intently. (I'll just add that to the list of things that I want to improve that keeps growing longer...) Feel free to comment and/or add insight.

can i be 8 again?

So, I'm taking a break from my exciting evening to write. This is how exciting it is: I've been solving sudoku puzzles (I have reached the intermediate level in my book. Wahoo.) I've been watching 30 Rock and The Office, Scrubs (the musical...hilarious), and Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. By myself. Such excitement. But really, I have wanted to write since yesterday.

As I was driving around the lake yesterday on my way to make a bank deposit for work, I was quickly reminded that it was summer. There were kids everywhere, running and playing. I wanted to be one of those kids. I miss the days when I could grab a book and go read outside...all day. I could hop on my bike and ride down to the library and then ride over to the lakes. The trails were supposed to be only for the people that lived in the neighborhood, but my dad and I would ride there sometimes. I hate being an adult sometimes. This is one of those times. Summer. I wish that I still had summers that were free. When making the numbers meant reading enough books to get free pizza or ice cream from the library. (For your information, reading one book a day is a great plan for free food!) When the worst thing you had to look forward to was coming inside for lunch. I want to be a kid again!! Or at least spend more time with them. When I was watching the boys and Anne back in Greenville, I at least had more of a feeling of being a kid. We got to play and run almost all afternoon. Of course, I was the one telling them that they had to come inside and take a nap, but I still felt like a kid. Of course, I hope to someday have that part again when I'm a parent. I just need to work on that one essential thing...the other parent. ;-)

Anyway, changing the subject. So, it's getting hot out, eh? And I've been really craving ice cream. Yeah. That really didn't work, did it? And now I should go to bed. Tomorrow is another day. Maybe I'll wake up and I'll be 8 years old. I'll let you know.

retracing my steps...

Sometimes, the best way to gain a clear focus is to go back and trace your steps. That's what I've just been doing. I've been reading over my blogs from the last year. It's a really interesting thing to do. It's especially interesting looking at when I wrote things. I think that I can safely say that the journey that I'm tracking right now started just one week shy of a year ago. (I've rewritten that sentence four times and I'm still not sure if that's how I would say it, but you get the gist of it!) On February 26th, 2006 (technically, February 27th, by the time I actually got it posted), I wrote this blog: Invisible Children. This was my first night going to Refuge. I remember that night. I remember us watching the video. I remember Brian leading us in "You Said" and thinking what a perfect song that was to end on. I remember wanting to do something. I also remember the feeling that I couldn’t do all the things that I would want to do because of my current circumstances. I remember feeling called to do more than what I wrote about, but afraid to talk about it, because then it would be real. I remember resigning myself to the fact that I would have to simply raise awareness. It broke my heart to see the kids in Uganda. I really did just want to pick them all up and hold them. It's the way I feel about all kids. They were meant to be loved. They were meant to be protected. They were meant to be nurtured.

This weekend at the conference, they asked us to examine ourselves and find what our passion is. Mine came to me quickly: children. It always has been. I am happiest when I'm around them. The Lord speaks to me through them and they feed my soul in a way that nothing else can. I have tried to see music as my passion for a long time, but I know now that it is more of an outlet than a passion. I enjoy making music. I love being with children.

Then I found this post from September: singin' in the rain. The second half of this post was a VERY short version of all the coincidental things that happened that week. One of the things that I left out, once again, because I would then have to think about it, was something that my boss said to me the week before. She looked at me when we were in the stockroom and just stared at me for a minute. She then said something that completely shocked me. She said, "You've been thinking about missions, haven't you? I know you have. I can just tell." I had not breathed a word to anyone regarding it until then. It had been bumping around in my heart, trying to get out, but I had never let it out until then. So, that weekend, when Drew preached on Gen 12:1-10, "A Vision Worth Dying For", speaking about Abraham's call and our call as well, to leave country and our father's house, I almost couldn't handle it. That, coupled with the passages in "My Utmost For His Highest" that week almost sent me over the edge. I didn't know what to do with it all. (It didn't help that my attitude at that time was not exactly one that I am proud of.) I have been processing it all since then and have talked to a few select people about it since.

And now, here I am. Still more confused than ever. It's been a year and I still don't know what this call means. The "Next Step Lunch" that I went to yesterday at the end of Fusion was with the Rafiki Foundation, which is an organization that has set up "villages" in ten countries in Africa: Ghana, Kenya, Malawi, Nigeria, Uganda, and Zambia, with villages still under construction in Ethiopia, Liberia, Rwanda, and Tanzania. Right now, they take in teenagers and orphans under 6. Their mission is to educate and equip the next generation so that they can be leaders in their communities. It was a really interesting presentation, but I don't think it's an organization that I would necessarily be able to work with. Mostly, because what they need are teachers with certification. I, obviously, am not a certified teacher. So, that's that.

There is almost too much for me to process right now. I guess I felt that if I shared it, rather than keeping it inside like I normally do, maybe I can find some clarity. Right now, I'm just scared looking at all that I've just typed, knowing that I've just bared my soul. That's a new step for me. Maybe it's the first of many...