Church Coffee & other Sunday Morning Nuances

Church Coffee Has Moved!!!!

2010-01-05T21:45:00.000-08:00

New Year, new blog site. Visit the new Church Coffee Blog at:

www.churchcoffee.wordpress.com

Friday Funnies: Ten Signs Your Church Might be Suffering from the Economic Crisis

2010-01-01T16:29:00.000-08:00

1) The Pastor instructs the ushers to lock the auditorium doors at the start of the Sunday service and then threatens to keep preaching until the offering plates are full.

2) The Catholics and Anglicans switch from wine to grape juice and the Baptists and Methodists switch from grape juice to kool-aid for communion.

3) The Pastor's kids come to church wearing potato sacks.

4) The youth group resorts to busking on downtown streets for fundraising.

5) The missionaries take up a love offering for the home church.

6) Baptisms take a sharp decline due to the lack of hot water in the baptismal tank, except in July and August when the building committee dictates a moratorium on the use of the air conditioner to save money.

7) The trustees board tries to pass off church roof leaks as "Showers of Blessing."

8) The Mortgage-Burning Celebration is postponed indefinitely as financial goals are re-adjusted. A Parking-Lot Line Painting Party is planned instead to compensate. (Please bring your own yellow paint.)

9) All evening church services become Candlelight Services.

10) A Toilet-Paper Drive is planned after the janitorial supplies run out.

* * * * * * * * * *

A New Year is often more than just a calendar change. A New Year signals new beginnings, and Church Coffee is about to undergo its own changes beginning next week. Watch for those changes on January 6.

The Cloud Quilt

2009-12-28T14:17:00.000-08:00

We took a road trip just after Christmas to visit extended family a few hours from our Vancouver-area home. The better part of the trip is through a range of mountains, up to the top and down again into a semi-arid desert valley.

The sun was exceptionally bright for a December day. So much so, in fact, that even our boys, who are not prone to notice details of any sort, remarked at how the light glistened off the mountain snow.

As we began to descend into the valley near the end of our trip (I had dozed off and was half asleep in the front seat,) Rob remarked, "Look at that you guys, there's a cloud covering all of Kamloops!" There was a bit of awe in his voice, and I wondered why a mere cloud had caught his attention. When I heard the boys respond "WHOAAAAAAAA!" from the backseat, I shook off the sleep to see what the fuss was about.

The sight was truly remarkable. At age 39, I thought that there wasn't much I hadn't seen in my lifetime, at least when it comes to weather. It caused me to marvel at this mid-life "first."

The largest single cloud I'd ever observed lay unfolded like a gigantic quilt atop the mountain range. The very peaks of the mountains poked through the fluff like pointed arrowheads through a piece of fabric. The sun shone brightly atop the quilt in a pure azure sky, bathing the mountain peaks in effulgent light, making the snow shimmer as if it were bespeckled with millions of minute diamond chips.

We were descending, and as we drew closer to our destination in the valley the road disappeared into a gaping hole in the quilt. The cars in front of us looked as if they were driving into a grey, swirling abyss, or the mouth of some great, yawning giant. They may have been dropping off the very face of the earth for all we could tell, so dark was the opening.

Soon we too drove into the yawning cave, where suddenly the sun was completely hidden. A light snow was falling inside, in stark contrast to the blue sky we'd just left behind. It was almost as if we'd entered a completely different dimension or plane of existence.

And at that moment I couldn't help but think of this scene in relation to the coming New Year, and the year we were about to leave behind. I thought back to the dawning of 2009.... the year had held promise for me, personally, in a number of ways. I remember thinking of all the things I wanted to do and re-do in 2009. My business was thriving, and I looked forward to taking on new challenges. Ministry at our church was fulfilling, our family was happy and healthy. I had much to be thankful for and even more to look forward to.

But when 2009 came, a different picture began to unfold. We had left the cloudless blue skies behind and had entered a grey abyss, much like the one we were driving in now. 2009 turned out to be a difficult year for our family in a number of ways. Professional and personal challenges and some significant health issues made it seem as though we were driving in thick, swirling fog most of the time. As the year progressed, the cloud seemed to thicken rather than dissipate as I had so strongly hoped for, so that I had begun to believe that the sun had only been a distant fragment of a dream or maybe even a figment of my imagination.

But as we drove that day in the snow and fog, I thanked God for this very real and tangible reminder that the sun never really disappears. Imagine having a greater perspective, such as the one that our Heavenly Father has. While I can only see what is directly in front of me, He is able to see the whole picture. I realized that I needed to trust God, remembering that above whatever cloud cover I might find myself under lies the sun. Blocked temporarily, it never really disappears.

In fact, as we progressed through the fog, now and then we could see small holes in the clouds that allowed a few rays of sun to pierce through, another reminder that the sun is always there. My 2009 had many of these cloud holes, where even amidst the fog I knew that God was in control, giving me strength and light to proceed through the storm.

I doubt I'll ever have the mind of God. But I hoped that after that day I would remember what it was like to be above the clouds, looking down on what lay below. That I would remember that God sees what I cannot, and that I can take comfort in His omniscience and not worry when the road ahead seems to be obscured by fog. And that I will never overlook those little patches of sunlight that inevitably break through even the thickest and blackest of clouds.

So far I'm not sure what 2010 will look like. But if I remember all of this, then I guess it doesn't really matter, does it?

My Favorite Christmas

2009-12-07T21:41:00.000-08:00

Whenever I'm asked to remember my favorite Christmas, it only takes an instant for the "Pepsi Thief" Christmas to jump to mind.

I was about 14 or 15 years old at the time. It was Christmas Eve, and a fresh, fluffy snow was falling as we left the Christmas Eve service at church and headed home. I was a typical teenage girl, so I had visions of Guess and Gucci dancing in my head rather than sugar plums. Other than that, it was a night a lot like that famous Christmas poem.

A few hours after going to bed, I was awakened abruptly by the sound of glass breaking. Startled out of a deep sleep, it took a minute or two to shake off the fog, and as I lay in bed trying to figure out whether I was dreaming or if perhaps the rapture was occurring, I could hear hasty footsteps coming from both ends of the house. Next came muffled but frantic whispers, and I began to realize that I wasn't dreaming, nor was I the only person in the house that was awake.

I stumbled into the living room, following the sound of the whispers, which had grown in decibel level to almost normal conversation tone, and were still rather frantic. I reached the kitchen just in time to see my Dad exit into the garage.

The garage of our rancher had been added as an afterthought, sometime after the building of the rest of the house. Because of this, the window over the kitchen sink, which I assumed had once borne a lovely view of the wooded lot next door, now looked straight into the garage.

My Mom had, only minutes before, gotten up for a 3:00 am glass of water. As she'd stood over the kitchen sink, glass in hand, she'd been startled nearly out of her skin to see someone... a stranger, poking around in our garage. She'd been so frightened she'd dropped her glass in the stainless steel sink. Now she and I both stood in the kitchen, near, but not in front of, that same window, stealing furtive, nervous glances out of it, hoping and praying that my unarmed father was not going to get beaten or shot at.

It seemed like we waited for an hour there beside the sink, listening for guns or screams but hearing nothing. In reality, it was probably five minutes or less, but eventually my Dad returned.

That snowfall had lightened up since we'd gone to bed a few hours earlier. It had left in its wake a perfect palette for capturing footprints. My Dad reported that the garage was burglar-free by the time he'd gone in, but he'd been able to follow a distinct trail through the freshly fallen snow and had tracked the thief, probably just mere seconds behind him.

From the looks of the prints, the thief had been just as startled to see my Mom as she'd been to see him. The prints leaving the garage were considerably less pristine than the ones going in. Clearly, he'd fled quickly and under some duress.

My Dad stayed inside just long enough to call 911, then headed back out to follow the footprints. By this time the neighbors behind us had been awakened too. It was clear that the thief had also entered their garage. However, he'd obviously encountered their dog, Jake, who slept in the garage. Jake's bark, which was piercing and deep-throated, was worse than his bite (which was non-existent,) and he probably wouldn't even chase a cat in the daytime. But loud and large, the sight and sound of him at 3:00 am after being so rudely awakened would have been bone-chilling.

Within minutes it had become obvious that the prowler had visited a number of homes in our small subdivision. Strangely though, this thief had only been interested in garages. Footprints, deep and perfect in the near gossamer new snow, led from garage to garage to garage throughout the neighborhood. He had apparently tested every garage door, entering the ones, like ours, that weren't locked.

Eventually the thief's footprints disappeared at the highway that ran alongside our subdivision. Snow plows and tire tracks had obscured any other prints, and it seemed as though the thief had made his escape.

My Dad returned to see if anything had been damaged or was missing from our garage. At first it looked as though nothing at all had been touched. Upon closer inspection, though, he realized something was missing after all. Oddly, a 6-pack of Pepsi, which my Dad always kept next to outside freezer, had disappeared with the intruder.

Soon other neighbors had awakened and were conferring over fences. Others whose garages had been unlocked began reporting similar oddities... there were missing Christmas turkeys and frozen apple pies, cans of cranberry sauce, bottles of wine and jugs of milk. Our burglar, so it seemed, wasn't interested in jewelry, cars or even loose change. He was looking for a Christmas dinner.

After the shock of finding a stranger in the garage began to wear off, the three of us.... Mom, Dad and I, began to chuckle at our predicament. Our feelings of indignance and violation were mixed with mirthful thoughts of little children praising Daddy the next day for the delicious Christmas dinner he'd provided for them.

My parents were still shaking, as much from laughter as from adrenaline and fear, when the phone rang in the wee morning hours of Christmas day. It was the police, who by then had been able to attend and exhaustively investigate the scene of the "crime."

They'd gone where Dad hadn't, crossing the highway and following tracks in the subdivision on the other side. The tracks converged upon a drainage ditch, the "rendezvous point," like the hub of a wheel, with footprints stretching outward in multiple trails like spokes on a bicycle tire.

At the bottom of the ditch lay the thief's booty: turkeys and pies and bottles of champagne that were by then ice-encrusted. But there was nary a trace of the bandit, who'd been in such a hurry he'd left his haul behind, perhaps to return later with a pick-up truck in which to carry it away.

Instead, the investigating officer was having a good laugh, and had called my Dad for a final statement. "And," police man said, "If you want to come across the highway and identify your Pepsi, you can have it back."

Friday Funnies

2009-12-02T20:39:00.000-08:00

Continuing on in the spirit of the season, here are a few more Christmas stories for you to enjoy:

Yes, There IS Room at the Inn....

Last Christmas the Travelodge hotel chain in England decided to repay the sins of the fathers, so to speak. They offered free lodging to any married couples named Mary and Joseph on Christmas night. Couples were required to supply proof of marriage as well as birth certificates or other official name documentation.
Travelodge operations director, Jason Cotta, said, "The phrase 'no room at the inn' is something that resonates with us in the hotel business. Therefore this year we have decided to evoke the true spirit of Christmas and invite Mary and Joseph couples as our guests." No word on how many Mary & Joseph couples actually took the Travelodge up on its offer.

* * * * *

Savvy Christmas Bargaining on the Part of a Weary Tourist

Rebecca and Benjamin, a young couple, were touring the Holy Land over the Christmas holiday period and decided it would be very meaningful to them to spend Christmas Eve in Bethlehem, the birth place of Jesus.

When they arrived they searched high and low all day for a room for that night. Finally Rebecca and Benjamin drove to the plush and rather expensive Intercontinental Hotel in Bethlehem.

"I'll pop in and see what I can do," said Benjamin feigning confidence for his, now exhausted, young wife.

Benjamin approached the desk and the receptionist told him there were no rooms in the hotel and probably no rooms in the whole of Bethlehem. "Sorry, sir. It's Christmas Eve, it's probably our busiest time."

No matter how much Benjamin offered to pay, the receptionist still replied that said he had no available rooms.

Finally, Benjamin said, "I bet if I told you my name was Joseph, that the woman waiting in the car was called Mary, and that she had a newborn infant, you'd find us a room for the night."

'Er....well,' stammered the receptionist, "I.....I suppose, in that case, I would."

'OK, then,' said Benjamin determinedly. "I guarantee you, they're not coming tonight, so we'll take their room."

* * * * *

A Nativity Actor's Revenge

A budding young actor was very put out when he wasn't picked to be Joseph in his school play. However he was asked to be Innkeeper No. 1 in an effort to keep him quiet, or so his teacher thought.

When Mary & Joseph approached him to ask if there was any room at the inn, he replied:

" Yes, come right in! We have a lovely room overlooking the pool!"

* * * * *

Christmas in the "Olden Days"

A little boy returned from Sunday School with a new perspective on the Christmas story. He had learned all about the Wise Men from the East who brought gifts to the Baby Jesus. He was so excited he just had to tell his parents: "I learned in Sunday School today all about the very first Christmas! There wasn't a Santa Claus way back then, so these three skinny guys on camels had to deliver all the toys!" And Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer with his nose so bright wasn't there yet, so they had to have this big spotlight in the sky to find their way around."

* * * * *

Thank You for the Wagon, Jesus

It was the day after Christmas at a church in San Francisco. The pastor of the church was looking over the cradle when he noticed that the baby Jesus was missing from among the figures. Immediately he turned and went outside and saw a little boy with a red wagon, and in the wagon was the figure of the little infant, Jesus.

So he walked up to the boy and said, "Well, where did you get Him, my fine friend?"

The little boy replied, "I got him from the church."

"And why did you take him?"

The boy said, "Well, about a week before Christmas I prayed to the little Lord Jesus and I told him if he would bring me a red wagon for Christmas I would give him a ride around the block in it.
* * * * *

And finally, here's one that has nothing to do with church but I thought it was just plain funny. Please don't send me nasty emails, men.

Feminist Reindeer's Story at Christmas

According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year, male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid-December.

Female reindeer retain their antlers till after they give birth in the spring. Therefore, according to EVERY historical rendition depicting Santa's reindeer, EVERY single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen, had to be a girl.

We should have known... ONLY women would be able to drag a fat man in a red velvet suit all around the world in one night and not get lost.

Friday Funnies

2009-11-27T17:43:00.001-08:00

I'm just beginning to get into the Christmas spirit (unlike some friends of mine who put up wreaths and break out the Christmas tunes the day after Halloween) so I thought I'd share some funny Christmas quotes, misquotes, bloopers and jokes to get you "laughing all the way......"

* * * * *

"Who was Mary's husband?" a Sunday School teacher asked her young students.

An eager little boy raised his hand. "Virg" he replied.

The teacher answered, "No, Mary's husband's name was Joseph."

Puzzled, the little boy asked, "Then why do they always talk about "Virg -n- Mary?"

* * * * *

While the rest of the family sang "Good King Wenceslas Looked out on the Feast of Stephen," my friend's young son had clearly misunderstood the lyrics and was instead singing "Good King Wence's Car Backed Out on the Feet of Stephen."

* * * * *

Good King Wenceslas phoned for a pizza. The salesgirl asked him, "Do you want your usual? Deep pan, crisp and even?"

* * * * *

In a small southern U.S. town there was a Nativity scene that showed great skill and talent had gone into creating it. One small feature bothered me.

The three wise men were wearing firemen's helmets.

Totally unable to come up with a reason or explanation, I left. At a 7-11 on the edge of town, I asked the lady behind the counter about the helmets. She exploded into a rage, yelling at me, "You stupid Yankees never do read the Bible!" I assured her that I did, but simply couldn't recall anything about firemen in the Bible.

She jerked her Bible from behind the counter and ruffled through some pages, and finally jabbed her finger at a passage. Sticking it in my face she said "See, it says right here, the three wise man came from afar."

* * * * *

A woman went to the Post Office to buy stamps for her Christmas Cards. "What denomination?" asked the clerk.

"Oh, good heavens! Have we come to this?" said the woman. "Well, give me 30 Catholic, 10 Baptist ones, 20 Lutheran, and 40 Presbyterian.

* * * * *

Terri asked her Sunday School class to draw pictures of their favorite Bible stories. She was puzzled by Kyle's picture, which showed four people on an airplane, so she asked him which story it was meant to represent. "The flight to Egypt," said Kyle. "I see. And that must be Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus," Ms. Terri said. "But who's the fourth person?"

"Oh, that's Pontius - the Pilot.

* * * * *

Perfect for the atheist's Christmas??????

Friday Funnies

2009-11-19T22:02:00.000-08:00

Here's one that was told to me years ago. It was one of those "true stories" that "I heard from a friend who had a cousin who married a girl whose Dad went to this church..." or something like that. So of course it must be a true story. Or not.

Two missionary ladies were home on furlough and visiting a supporting church one Sunday morning. They were scheduled to speak briefly during the morning service about their missionary endeavors.

When they arrived at the church the chairman of the missions committee, a Mr. Harry Buttz greeted them, showed them to a seat, and told them that the pastor would call them up on stage when it was time for them to speak. The chairman then spoke briefly with the pastor and sat down in the audience.

When the time came for the women to speak, the pastor fumbled through his notes, realizing that he could not remember the names of the missionary ladies. He floundered for a moment, and then, at a loss for any other words, simply announced from the pulpit: "Would the two ladies with Harry Buttz please come to the front?"

(If you don't get it, try saying that last line aloud to yourself.)

Here are a couple more I enjoy:

A man was walking in the mountains just enjoying the scenery when he stepped too close to the edge of the mountain and started to fall. In desperation he reached out and grabbed a limb of a gnarly old tree hanging onto the side of the cliff.

Full of fear he assessed his situation. He was about 100 feet down a shear cliff and about 900 feet from the floor of the canyon below. If he should slip again he'd plummet to his death. Full of fear, he cries out, "Help me!" But there was no answer. Again and again he cried out but to no avail. Finally he yelled, "Is anybody up there? "

A deep voice replied, "Yes, I'm up here."

"Who is it?"

"It's the Lord"

"Can you help me?"

"Yes, I can help."

"Help me!"

"Let go."

Looking around the man became full of panic. "What?!?!"

"Let go. I will catch you."

"Uh... Is there anybody else up there?"

* * * * * * * * *

BULLETIN BLOOPER (or Freudian slip???????): "Ushers will eat latecomers."

Have You Had Your Iron Today?

2009-11-16T18:54:00.000-08:00

I've been reading a book* entitled You Matter More than You Think by Dr. Leslie Parrott. It's an introspective journey by the author to find meaning in her life. It's less about trying to pursue something bigger and better than what you already have.... a more lucrative job, a bigger house, more refined and cultured children... than it is about realizing that whatever we happen to be doing already is the most important, and indeed, the ONLY thing that matters right now. And it matters a great deal more than most of us believe or realize.

As part of one's own journey of discovery, Dr. Parrott encourages her readers to pursue a meaningful mentoring relationship. The idea is that, hopefully, by developing such a relationship, one that is based on mutual love for God and respect for one another, that individuals will better be able to discover just how much their own lives really matter.

"As iron sharpens iron, so one man [or woman] sharpens another." That's from Proverbs 27:17. It's one of my favorite verses, because it evokes such a powerful mental picture of what a godly friendship/mentoring relationship should look like, and what can result from it.

I have a very close friend who is my "iron." We were initially drawn to each other because our husbands were both pastors. As I got to know her better, I discovered we had a lot more than professional ministry, or should I say, being "ministry widows," (a little tongue in cheek here) in common.

Dr. Parrott strongly emphasizes the deliberate pursuit of mentoring relationships, even if it means figuratively throwing yourself at the feet of someone that you may not even know, but simply admire from afar and respect as someone mature in the Christian faith, someone who could challenge you to be all that you can be in Christ. It might even require going out of one's comfort zone and mustering up courage to literally "cold call" on someone, perhaps in the lobby after church, in the lunch room at work, even on the phone.

This is how I got to know my "iron." Though I was fairly certain we had a lot in common, she's twenty years older than I am. I wasn't sure she'd even give me the time of day. "What in the world could I offer in such a relationship?" I couldn't help but wonder. But my admiration for her eventually outweighed my misgivings and made it worth a try. (The worst that could happen was that I could fall flat on my face, right? Been there, done that. At least I'd be no worse off than I already was!)

The analogy of "iron" to describe a mentoring friendship is about the most vivid, picturesque one I know. Back in the Old Testament years when iron was the latest in tool and weaponry technology, civilizations that had stumbled upon it hoarded it and guarded it as closely as Bill Gates does with his newest software developments, lest the entity loses its competitive advantage.

Iron was harder and stronger than any other tools or weaponry at the time, and the people that possessed the technology to fashion it, in this case the Philistines, were at the top of the food chain. Even the Israelites, historical rivals and sometimes enemies of the Philistines, took their own tools to the Philistines for sharpening because they had the corner on the iron market (1 Samuel 13: 19-21.) No one but the Philistines could give the old axe or hoe such a flawless edge. Their iron tools could sharpen even the dullest plowshare. And so the Israelites swallowed their pride and put aside petty rivalry for the sake of efficiently producing better crops.

Of course like all smart technological advances, the secret gets out eventually, either through thievery, bribery or experimentation. When the iron secret leaked out, the Philistines had to find a new competitive advantage. (Later they would unveil another of their latest weapons: Goliath, only to have him felled by a mere slip of a shepherd boy too small to even carry a shield.)

The iron metaphor is very true of my own relationship with my mentor. After praying it over and mustering up the courage to begin a friendship with her, I found myself wondering why I hadn't tried it sooner. The relationship has been the source of blessings so incredible that there are few words to describe it. My "iron" sharpens me by listening without judgment or criticism, even as I confess things that others might find shocking. She accepts and embraces me for who I am, mistakes, shortcomings and all. She offers practical advice without being pushy or expecting me to do things exactly as she would. She looks past the outside and sees who I really am inside. She loves me, I think, not in spite of my idiosyncrasies, but because of them.

We get together fairly regularly. Sometimes we pour out our angst to one another. Sometimes we just talk about life, work, kids, recipes, hair or shopping. We go for walks or out for coffee. We often end our times together by praying with and for one another. We aren't moving mountains, not literally anyway, but I know that she is making a difference in my life nonetheless, keeping me sharp, being my iron.

So, have you had your iron lately? I'm inclined to agree with Dr. Parrott: we all need a little bit of "iron" in our "diets." Without "iron" with which to be sharpened by, we are in danger of losing that cutting edge. Literally.

*Parrott, Dr. Leslie. You Matter More Than You Think. Zondervan Publishing. Grand Rapids. 2006. Ironically, this book was given to me by my "iron" mentor.

The Friday Funnies

2009-11-13T14:10:00.000-08:00

I had such a positive response to my "Sign Wars" entry earlier this week, I've decided to add a weekly humor column to my blog. Here is my first ever "Friday Funnies" column, church style!

HOW MANY BAPTISTS does it take to change a light bulb?
Change? Who said anything about change?

HOW MANY CALVINISTS does it take to change a light bulb?
None: God has predestined when the light will be on. Calvinists
do not change light bulbs. They simply read the instructions and
pray that their light bulb will be the one that has been chosen
to be changed.

HOW MANY CATHOLICS does it take to change a light bulb?
None. They use candles.

HOW MANY CHARISMATICS does it take to change a light bulb?
Ten: One to change the bulb and nine to pray against the spirit
of darkness.

HOW MANY INDEPENDENT FUNDAMENTALISTS does it take to change a
light bulb?
Only one, because more might result in too much cooperation.

HOW MANY LIBERALS does it take to change a light bulb?
At least ten, as they need to hold a debate on whether or not the
light bulb exists. Even if they can agree upon the existence of
the light bulb, they still might not change it, to keep from
alienating those who might use other forms of light.

HOW MANY MEMBERS OF AN ESTABLISHED BIBLE-TEACHING CHURCH THAT IS OVER 20 YEARS OLD does it take to change a light bulb?
One to actually change the bulb, and nine to say how much they
liked the old one.

HOW MANY METHODISTS does it take to change a light bulb?
This statement was issued: "We chose not to make a statement
either in favor of or against the need for a light bulb. However,
if in your own journey, you have found that a light bulb works
for you, that's fine. You are invited to write a poem or compose
a modern dance about your personal relationship with your light
bulb (or light source, or non-dark resource), and present it next
month at our annual light-bulb Sunday service, in which we
explore a number of light-bulb traditions, including
incandescent, fluorescent, three-way, long-life, and tinted-all
of which are equally valid paths to luminescence."

HOW MANY NEO-ORTHODOX does it take to change a light bulb?
No one knows. They can't tell the difference between light and
darkness.

HOW MANY SOUTHERN BAPTISTS does it take to change a light bulb?
At least 109: 7 on the Light Bulb Task Force Sub-committee who
report to the 12 on the Light Bulb Task Force, appointed by the
15 on the Trustee Board. Their recommendation is reviewed by the
Finance Committee Executive of 5, who place it on the agenda of
the 18-member Finance committee. If they approve, they bring a
motion to the 27 member Church Board, who appoint another
12-member review committee. If they recommend that the Church
Board proceed, a resolution is brought to the Congregational
Business Meeting. They appoint another 8-member review committee.
If their report to the next Congregational Business Meeting
supports the changing of the light bulb, and the congregation
votes in favor, the responsibility to carry out the light bulb
change is passed on to the Trustee Board, who in turn appoint a
7-member committee to find the best price on new light bulbs.
Their recommendation of which hardware store has the best buy
must then be reviewed by the 23-member Ethics Committee to make
certain that this hardware store has no connections to
Disneyland. They report back to the Trustee Board who then
commissions the Trustee in charge of the janitor to ask him to
make the change. By then the janitor discovers that one more
light bulb has burned out.

HOW MANY TELEVANGELISTS does it take to change a light bulb?
One. But for the message of light to continue, send your donation
today or call our toll free line and place your donation on your
credit card.

HOW MANY YOUTH PASTORS does it take to change a light bulb?
Youth pastors aren't around long enough for a light bulb to burn
out.

HOW MANY NEW-AGERS does it take to change a light bulb?
Exactly 100 all meditating at the exact same time for the exact
duration of time with the exact same meditative spiritual thought
until there is illumination. If it doesn't work this year, there
is always next year.

* * * * * * *

Plus, a few more funny church signs.....

Finally...... "We will all be changed..." I Corinthians 15:51. BIG CHANGE is coming to Church Coffee in the coming weeks. Stay tuned for more details!

Ten Signs that You May Be Suffering From Complainia Chronicosis

2009-11-04T13:18:00.000-08:00

Some church people will complain about anything: the toilet paper in the bathroom is too scratchy; the courtesy pencils are never sharp enough; the carpet in the sanctuary doesn't match the upholstery on the pews; the communion bread is too dry; someone in the balcony was throwing paper airplanes onto the floor during the service again (probably the youth group,) the flower arrangements on the stage smell like a funeral home.

Complainia Chronicosis is a common problem within the church at large. The cause may have something to do with Eve sharing that wretched piece of fruit with Adam. Fortunately, a cure is possible, as the Apostle Paul had discovered (Philippians 4:11.)

You may be suffering from Complainia Chronicosis if:

1) You've been banned from the church prayer chain for sharing too many "concerns."

2) Women pull their hemlines down and their necklines up whenever you walk by.

3) People's eyes glaze over when you talk to them in the lobby on Sunday mornings.

4) There's a permanent Monday morning slot in the Pastor's appointment book with your name in it.

5) The pastoral staff has renamed the strongest brew of office coffee after you.

6) The phrase "That's an interesting point you've made" sounds like a compliment to you.

7) Strangely, the microphone "shorts out" every time you get up to "share" at church business meetings.

8) You've ever been referred to by church staff members as a "Frequent Flyer."

9) You have the Pastor's phone number programmed into your speed dial.

10) The Pastor has your number programmed into his speed dial.

If you answered "Yes" to one or more of these questions, you may indeed suffer from Complainia Chronicosis. If you answered "Yes" to more than half of these questions, you may be in imminent danger of excommunication.

Need a second opinion? If you think you might be suffering from Complainia Chronicosis, talk to your Pastor or a trusted comrade. Remember Proverbs 27 verse 6 : "Wounds from a friend can be trusted."

* * * * * *

I received this tidbit of church humor in the form of a forwarded email last week. It was too funny not to share with all of my readers. It's a good example of what can happen when churches disagree and the gloves come off.....

This inter-church feud began when the Our Lady of Martyrs Catholic Church posted this on its sign:

To which the Beulah Cumberland Presbyterian Church across the street responded:

The Catholics apparently found this disagreeable:

The Presbyterians countered with characteristic "dog"matism:

But the Catholics were unshaken:

The Presbyterians could not leave such heresy unchallenged:

This apparently gave the Catholics a good idea for a sales gimmick:

In case the Catholics didn't hear them the first time, the Presbyterians reminded them:

But in this sign war, the Catholics got the last word:

What I Need to "Remember"

2009-11-03T15:42:00.000-08:00

TO RESPECT OR TO DEFER?

Today there are a lot of things I would like to forget. For example, I would like to forget that the dreaded Swine has visited our home. Unfortunately the afflicted one who lies upstairs in bed moaning won't let me. And so between filling my poor hubby's Tamiflu prescription, cancelling his appointments for the week, and periodically checking him for a pulse, I have been laboriously sterilizing every common surface in my home with the strongest decontaminant available for purchase without a chemical permit. I would also like to forget about how I recently hurt a friend's feelings, my Master Card bill, the fact that it's only three days after Halloween and I'm already being assaulted with Christmas decorations that are way too merry for early November, a rude remark that someone made about one of my kids, and several other things.

However, this post is about "Remembering." And I am trying to "Remember" with a purpose. I have decided to get on the Christian blogging bandwagon and jump in on the Rediscovering the Church blog carnival. (Okay Pastor Kevin, I'm really just copycatting YOU.) This week I'm exploring, along with a number of other Christian bloggers, the word "Remember" (sort of a Rorshach exercise, except with words.)

Although most of the time I am acutely aware of how little I actually know, sometimes I'll be hit with revelations that are so profoundly obvious I can't believe that it's taken me till nearly age 40 to "get it." I had one of those this week.

My pastor husband and I like to debate points of Scripture, particularly those that are not so cut-and-dried obvious. We agree about 90 percent of the time. The ten percent that we don't lends to some fiery discussion, and even, occasionally, (gasp) tears and fighting. Since he has half a Master's Degree (in comparison to my Religious Studies diploma)he almost always wins, although I occasionally manage to make a compelling point or two. This past week's hot topic was about deference.

What happens when some behavior that is committed inadvertently and without any malicious intent is perceived by someone else in the Christian community as offensive? What if this behavior is something that, although not inherently sinful in nature, causes another Christian angst in his own Christian walk? What if NOT engaging in such behavior would not negatively affect your own life, but would at the same time result in greater and deeper Christian community? In other words, would I be willing to give up my own rights in order to contribute to stronger Christian community? That's what I mean by "deference."

Allow me to illustrate with a ridiculous but hopefully persuasive word picture. Let's say that Suzy J. (any resemblance to any person real or otherwise is purely coincidental) thinks that the eating of potatoes is wrong. Mashed, baked, boiled or fried.... potatoes should never be consumed. After all, they are full of starch (which is just a fancy word for unrefined sugar) and empty calories and contain almost no nutrients whatsoever. Why would anyone WANT to eat such a thing?

When Suzy J's friends decide to eat potatoes in or near her presence, this causes no small measure anxiety for her. It proceeds to distract her from enjoying her own potato-free meal to the point that she feels ill at the sight of her plate.

Suzy J's friends know how much the eating of potatoes bothers her. Yet when they eat out together, they simply chalk up her ill feelings toward potatoes as little more than over-reaction and opposition to the freedom that each person has to choose to eat whatever he or she wants. After all, no one really has the right to tell someone else what they can or cannot eat, right? Sure, they respected Suzy's beliefs. They would never question her commitment to healthy eating or criticize her choice (at least, not in front of her.) They respected her beliefs. They just didn't share them.

So Suzy J's friends continue to eat potatoes in front of her in spite of the knowledge that they are hurting their friend. Eventually, Suzy is driven to the point that she no longer invites her friends over for dinner or joins them for lunch in restaurants because the potato rift between her and them has simply become unbearable for her. Though her friends tell her that they respect her, Suzy J. questions that respect because of their lack of deference to her feelings.

The Free Dictionary defines the phrase "to defer to" as: "to yield to someone... on some question or point." Of course, the word "yield" always refers to some form of giving up something, even if it means giving up something you are legally or morally entitled to. In other words, it sometimes means giving up your own right(s).

This concept, of course, is scattered liberally throughout God's word. Numerous instances of giving up one's rights in deference to another exist in Scripture. The apostle Paul speaks of giving up his own rights for the sake of spreading the Gospel of Jesus Christ in I Corinthians 9:19-23

19Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. 20To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. 21To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law), so as to win those not having the law. 22To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. 23I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings.

It seems as though Paul had mastered the concept of deference, the idea that respect isn't just about trying to understand another person's point or position. It's not even about simply allowing a person to act upon his or her beliefs and/or opinions (ridiculous or not) without interference or defending someone for standing up for something even if it's largely disagreeable or unpopular. Instead, it's about acquiescing (another fabulously colorful word, which means to "accept, comply or submit")or giving up one's own rights, beliefs or opinion in favor of another's.

Make no mistake: this is not to say that Suzy J's friends ought to give up the eating of potatoes. If in their hearts they have determined that there is nothing immoral about the consuming of potatoes, they ought to eat them freely... most of the time. But when out for lunch with Suzy, in the interest of preserving the friendship, Suzy J's friends would be wise to stay way from sides of french fries and roasted garlic mashed potatoes. After all, isn't friendship more important than food?

When I look at the issue of deference that way, it's a little bit humbling. I'm the worst person I know when it comes to deference, even in the church. Give up my rights? And so went the discussion between me and my husband. As usual, he was right (though I was reluctant to admit that out loud.) Preserving Christian community ought to be far more important to me than many of my petty little so-called "rights." In the end, I suppose that true respect can only occur as long as the element of deference is present. Otherwise, I'm really only paying lip service to the feelings of the fellow believers whom I am called to serve, uplift and uphold.

This is what I am trying to remember this week.

Skeletons

2009-10-25T17:38:00.000-07:00

What's in YOUR closet? I'm not talking about shoes, clothes, ugly ties or dust bunnies. I'm not even referring to a real, physical closet. I'm talking about that proverbial one, the one that everyone has. The one that is sometimes home to skeletons.

It's true, I do have a bit of Halloween on my brain. No matter what your views happen to be on this contentious "holiday," I figure the week of October 31 is an appropriate time to mention skeletons.

And just like those proverbial closets, I am also talking about proverbial skeletons. Everyone who has a physical one (I daresay that covers all of my readers,) has at least one proverbial one in the closet. Some of us have more than one. (Some of us have had to upgrade from closets to self-storage units to house all of the skeletons.)

There are a handful of early references in literature to skeletons hidden in various parts of homes (cupboards and inside walls in addition to closets) going back as far as the beginning of the 1800's. However, nobody can definitively say where the phrase "skeletons in the closet" originated.

It's clear, though that the idiom had been widely accepted in pop culture and understood to refer to the keeping of some sort of dark, hideous secret. After all, no one would ever put a skeleton on display in, say, the living room. Doing so would lead to many uncomfortable questions and give rise to much suspicion. It would surely lead visitors to question how such a thing would have even come into one's possession in the first place. While I suppose one can order just about anything off the Internet these days, I think it would be more likely that the possessing of a skeleton would almost always have more dubious origins.

I often think that we Christians are the most skilled of all people at keeping our skeletons hidden away. There may be numerous reasons for this, but I think the most obvious one is that we fear what our fellow Christians would think if they could see our skeletons.

Whether our fear of being judged is based on experience or nothing more than lies planted in our brains by the Father of Lies himself, the fear is very real. Unfortunately, when we all keep our skeletons hidden away, we collectively create a false reality that is not necessarily conducive to true Christian community. The more perfect and put-together everyone else seems, the more reluctant we are to share our deepest struggles with one another. The less we share our deep struggles with one another, the harder we work to keep up a false front of perfection. Eventually, this vicious circle can lead to spiritual bondage to those "skeletons."

Whenever I think about this concept of skeletons, I think of King David. If anyone had a reason to feel like hiding his skeletons it was him. Once a mere country shepherd boy, he was plucked out of virtual obscurity and was nurtured and prepared to become one of the greatest kings of all time. He was respected as a leader and feared as a warrior. He had felled a Philistine giant and gotten closer than anyone had ever gotten to two hundred other Philistine warriors and had 200 "trophies" to prove it (I Samuel 18:27), enough to impress the King whom he would later succeed and whose daughter he proved himself worthy to marry.

I often wonder about David's skeletons.... what if his subjects learned of David's humble past and his former occupation? He hadn't even been the oldest in his family. In fact, he was the youngest. What would happen when David's army discovered that their mighty leader had perpetrated a cowardly act and sent one of his loyal soldiers to his death in order to cover up the fact that he'd stolen that soldier's wife? Yet despite his shortcomings (some that would eventually become extremely public), God managed to use David anyway (even after at least one skeleton literally came tumbling out of the closet by way of a scandalous pregnancy.)

The Bible is full of colorful characters with "skeletons" aplenty. Like the apostle Paul, the great missionary to the Gentiles whose integrity lead to his release from an unjust imprisonment and the salvation of a jailer, but whose past was colored by the commission of multiple murders. Like Jesus' disciple Peter, who traveled the country preaching the resurrected Christ to his fellow Jews. After all, he had once, at one of his low points, publicly denied the same Lord about whom he now preached not once, not twice, but three times. And like even Jesus himself, whose own mother had borne him out of wedlock, and whose family origins were of the humblest blue collar despite his claim of royalty.

These wonderful characters remind me over and over again that skeletons need not hold me back. If God can use an adulterer, a murderer and a lying traitor, he can probably use me too, even in spite of, or maybe even BECAUSE of, my skeletons.

I must remind myself constantly that however "put together" everyone else looks compared to me, I know that they all have proverbial skeletons too. Praise God that He sees our skeletons that we sometimes try so adeptly to keep hidden away. Not only does He see them, he sometimes asks us to open the closet door and let others see what's inside too. He has done so for me, and while it hasn't been without some trepidation and pain (I have found myself at times fighting against myself to wrench that door open) it has never been without reward.

If I Were a Rich Girl (or For the Love of Money...)

2009-10-13T18:17:00.000-07:00

I often tell people that I am a Saks Fifth Avenue girl who was born into a Wal-Mart family. I'm not really sure how that happened exactly. I can only assume that I must have been switched at birth and some other little girl got to live the life of luxury that I had such a longing for.

I can be in the middle of a crowd.... at the mall, the airport, church, wherever.... and spot the two feet out of 1000 that are adorned with Prada shoes. Why would God give me such a gift, only to saddle me with an income that renders me unqualified to even approach a store that sells Prada shoes?

This fascination with everything designer began very early on. I was a mere ten year old girl when Brooke Shields did her first Calvin Klein jeans commercial. Because Brooke Shields said so, I, like so many other young girls in 1980, simply HAD to have Calvin Klein jeans.

That resolution faded quickly with the sound of my Mother's laughter. "Sure. I just won't buy groceries for the next month. You don't mind if we don't eat for awhile, right?" (Actually, it may not have happened exactly like that. Let's just say that it became very clear, very quickly, that I would NOT get Calvin Klein jeans.)

At the time, my Dad was pursuing a Bible college degree, after deciding in his early 30's to enter full time ministry. And so he packed up my Mom, me and my two little sisters and moved us from our hometown of Elkhart, Indiana to Chicago, Illinois. It was here he attended Moody Bible Institute while working two and sometimes even three jobs on the side in order to make ends meet.

My Mom worked part time too, and took care of us girls. She basically became a single mother for four years, since Dad was home so little during that time.

Even so, they somehow managed to conceive a fourth child during those years. When my youngest sister was born, the budget was stretched almost to the breaking point.

Fortunately we were part of a generous church. As I recall, we never went without. We got hand-me down clothes from older girls at the church, meals, and even the odd box or bag of free groceries. It wasn't unusual for anonymous money to come our way, usually during those times when the month outlasted the paychecks and we were crying out to God in sheer desperation. We even lived in our church's parsonage rent free for a short period of time as my Dad finished up his education and got ready for full-time ministry.

I'd always been something of clothes-horse. So when I began to develop an awareness of designer labels at age ten, needless to say, I was less than appreciative of the great lengths my parents went to just to keep me and my sisters from going naked. Why couldn't I have Calvin Klein jeans like some of my other friends?

Our economic situation didn't improve much after Dad entered full-time ministry. We were missionaries, and somehow managed to survive on a pittance, thanks largely to the generosity of our supporters and some of the churches in the area where my parents ministered. By high school graduation I still hadn't gotten those Calvin Kleins.

Any fleeting hope of raising my financial profile through marriage vanished when, in my first year of college, the guy I'd been dating since my last year of high school announced that he had felt the call of God on his life to pursue full-time Christian ministry. Love conquers all, right? We'd get married and live happily ever after, serving the Lord side by side. He'd work and I'd stay home with the kids we'd eventually have and life would be full of spiritual and emotional bliss.

As it turned out, those years at home with the babies were not quite as blissful as I'd anticipated. Though the churches my husband worked for while our kids were little (three in total) were generous churches, much as my childhood church had been, a pastor's salary is a pastor's salary, and a single-income household with three small kids left no place in the budget for Prada or Calvin Klein (or Baby Gap & OshKosh b'Gosh for that matter.) I had married into a Wal-Mart budget.

I would, and I must confess, still do find myself looking on with envy every time I see a Louis Vuitton handbag on someone else's arm or a funky pair of Versace glasses gracing another woman's face. Though I've developed a knack for picking out cheap knock-offs that sometimes get mistaken for the real deal, I still long to wear authentic Prada.

It's taken me a lifetime to come to terms with the idea that I will never be a rich girl. While I wouldn't trade my place in life for anything, I find myself constantly being tempted to break the Tenth Commandment. Sometimes, in the very lowest of moments, I even find myself questioning why someone such as myself, who has literally grown up in professional ministry, can't catch one small windfall of cash somewhere with which to buy a little Calvin Klein? Don't I deserve that much?

No, I don't. In reality, God owes me nothing. In fact, He gave me everything. I've been reminded of this anew the last few weeks, as our current sermon series at church has been on the topic of stewardship. It's been a powerful reminder to me that everything I have belongs to God. He measures out to each man and woman exactly what He will, and expects us to be good stewards of it, whether it's Time, Talent or Treasure (The Three T's.... thanks Pastor Jim.)

I think I have a decent handle on the "time" and "talent" thing. It's the "treasure" I still struggle with. Yes, even clergy wives have trouble giving sometimes. Sometimes I'd rather spend my money on those cute shoes than tithe. If only we made more money, then it would be easier to give, or so I sometimes like to think.

In reality, I know this to be a lie. Studies have shown clearly that when people start to make more, they simply start to spend more, and find that their attitudes towards money are the same no matter what income bracket they manage to achieve. The real mark of a steward is what's in the heart, not what's in the bank account.

I have yet to wear Prada, or Calvin Klein jeans, and I suspect that the Lord may not have bestowed upon me the state of "rich girl" because He knows I'd be consumed by my own greed. So I've learned to adjust to perpetually living in a Wal-Mart family, and practice daily being grateful for the things that are really important in life, including the amazing opportunity to serve Him alongside my husband, even without designer jeans.

Albinos in Tanzania Hunted for Body Parts

2009-10-04T19:28:00.000-07:00

I watched a recent episode of the television documentary 20/20 which chronicled the condition known as albinism. This condition, which affects both human and animal populations, makes it impossible for the body to produce any color pigmentation. A human or animal with albinism looks normal in every respect, except they are completely white: this includes hair, skin and eyes.

The episode followed a number of people with albinism in the United States, documenting their lives and how the condition affects their day-to-day living. Humans born with albinism are almost always legally blind, and are extremely sensitive to sunlight due to the body's inability to fight off the effects of ultra-violet light. Skin cancer is a serious issue with albinos.

Sometimes, though, the emotional issues are even heavier than the physical ones. Albinos don't fit into the "normal" minority categories. Albino children are often teased by classmates. One teenage girl interviewed by 20/20 was teased and bullied so mercilessly that she had to leave school and study at home due to the emotional toll.

However, some of these issues seem to pale in comparison to the plight of albinos in the African country of Tanzania. It has the highest concentration of albinos of any other population in the world. Albinism occurs once in every 20,000 births worldwide. In Tanzania, however, the rate of albinism is an astounding one in four thousand, five times the world's albinism rate.

Superstition in Tanzania holds that albinos posses a type of luck or "magical" quality. Because of this, practicing witch doctors are fueling a market for albino body parts. They use these human body parts, mainly legs, arms and hair, in potions. These potions are sold to believers who hope to attain wealth through them.

The lure of wealth in a country that has a gross domestic product of less than $1500 per capita is enough to keep these potions in demand. Unfortunately, the lure of money also makes it all too easy for witch doctors to find people willing to hunt, mutilate and murder albinos in Tanzania. In some cases, even parents of children with albinism are willing to exchange the lives of their children for money, usually about $2000 US.

These depraved hunters usually burst into a home in the middle of the night, heavily armed, and simply snatch the albino. They use brute force and the threat of violence to subdue family members. In most cases, they simply take the albino out into the yard to perform their dastardly deed, and then leave the person in a pool of blood to die as frightened and distraught family members look on helplessly.

Because good medical care isn't available in most of the remote villages, albinos who are attacked almost always die. A few, however, survive, and face a lifetime of disability in a country where there are no resources to support these severely disabled individuals.

Fortunately, a Canadian charity called Under the Same Sun is working tirelessly to focus attention on the plight of albinos in Tanzania. The non-profit organization was founded in 2008 by Peter Ash, a Christian businessman who himself was born with albinism. Ash, along with his brother Paul, donate money and raise global awareness of the problems that albinos worldwide are faced with, particularly in third world countries like Tanzania.

Thanks to the Ash brothers' charity, a school has been built in Africa to offer refuge to oppressed albinos. The school offers shelter, food, education and safety to albino children who otherwise would be hunted, or perhaps even fall victim to the conditions that many other African children face, like starvation, disease and abject poverty.

The school accepts many children besides albinos, and the building is bursting at the seams on any given day. Classrooms are wall-to-wall children, and kids often work two or three to a desk. The rest simply find a tiny spot on the floor. Dormitories are crowded, with two or three children sleeping in one bed or hammock.
While these conditions might seem deplorable to North Americans, the children and their families are unspeakably grateful for the opportunity for an education, daily meals, and above all, safety.

Under the Same Sun's mission is based on the belief that every person, albinos included, are made in the image of God. The Ash brothers hope to dramatically increase the quality of life for albinos in Tanzania by providing them with opportunities for education and quality free or affordable/attainable health care.

This story touched me like few others have. As a fan of television documentaries, I often hear stories about charities involved in various projects around the world. I am almost always moved by their stories, but none so much as this one.

It made me think about what my own response should be. In a time of economic crisis, almost every one has been affected in some way. Financial resources are tight, and not everyone can afford to give money. Couple that with the vast number of charities doing worthwhile work around the world, and the need seems overwhelming.

I think it's God's will that we, as Christians, give freely and gladly of the resources that He has given us. While He has not blessed all of us with extra finances, we all have the ability to pray. I very frequently forget that prayer is more powerful than the dollar, and admit that I often neglect to do my part by praying for those around the world who are oppressed and suffering. Even if I can't give my money, I can offer my prayers, specifically for protection for albinos in Tanzania, and that God would raise up those whom he has blessed with financial resources to fill those gaps that others cannot.

I am also blessed with the ability to write, and so I have also chosen to do that, in the hope that I might be able to bring just a little bit more attention to the plight of albinos in Tanzania. For that gift, and the ability to pray, I am grateful to God.

Learn more about Peter Ash's work at the Under the Same Sun website.

Watch Peter Ash's YouTube "Voice of America" interview.

Mental Health and the Church: What Would Jesus Do?

2009-09-13T18:58:00.001-07:00

I was talking with an acquaintance from church recently. He's a bit of a health nut: he exercises almost as religiously as he reads his Bible, carefully watches what he eats, and even drinks dreadful veggie-based smoothies every day in an effort to stave off illness and prolong his earthly life.

We chatted a bit about ailments that seem to be so prevalent today, like cancer. He hoped that his strict regimen would help him avoid some of these things. He even mentioned mental illness, remarking that it seemed that depression, anxiety, and other mental disorders were almost pandemic.

His remarks made me start thinking about mental illness. Personally, I wonder if mental illnesses such as depression are really that much more prevalent now than they were 100 years ago. I'm certainly not a medical professional by any stretch of the imagination. But I would conjecture that perhaps mental illness is NOT more common in 2009, but rather, much more talked about.

It also got me thinking about my own experience with mental illness. I was diagnosed with clinical depression in 2002, shortly after the birth of my third child. It turned out that what I had thought was simple post-partum depression had much deeper roots.

As my doctor and I explored this new revelation in my life, I began to realize that I'd actually suffered from clinical depression most of my life. I also came to understand why it took me twenty years to identify the problem in my own life.
If you're like most people, you probably think of clinical depression the way I once did: it means that the victim lies around in bed all day, cries for hours on end, and generally has trouble going about daily living.

I, on the other hand, was really nothing like this. While I have learned over the years that I require more nightly sleep than the average person (8 1/2 to nine hours minimum), I've never suffered from lack of motivation to get out of bed in the morning. Quite the opposite in fact: I have always been quick to jump out of bed and pack my day from start to finish with non-stop activity.

This, I came to learn, was my coping method. But instead of making me feel better, it produced such severe anxiety that I began to be unable to sleep at night, even after my new baby finally began sleeping through the night himself. I would lie awake feeling nervous about whether or not I would be able to keep up with my hectic pace. I would suffer frequent panic attacks. I would yell at my kids and make unreasonable demands of my husband, blaming everyone around me for making me feel so lousy.

It was a simple ten question quiz in a parenting magazine that finally made me realize that I was suffering from clinical depression, which manifested itself in my life as severe anxiety. I was shocked and relieved at the same time. There was hope! There really was more to life than constant panic attacks and dissatisfaction with my circumstances! Medication and therapy has done an amazing job of getting my depression/anxiety under control.

Statistics suggest that some ten percent of North Americans are currently receiving some type of treatment (medication, therapy or a combination of both) for clinical depression. They also estimate that 10-25% of all women and 5-12% of all men will experience a bout of clinical depression at some point in their lives.

Think about those statistics in relation to your church. There are roughly 600 people in my own church. That means there are probably about 59 other people sitting in church with me every Sunday morning who are dealing with the same thing that I am. 59 people! This is more than a mere handful. And yet, I can think of less than five people who have ever admitted aloud to me that they do indeed suffer from clinical depression.

So why is it that mental health issues are still so hard to talk about in the church? I consider myself fortunate to live during a period in history where mental illness doesn't quite have the same negative social stigma attached. Had I lived one hundred years ago, I would most likely have been labelled as "delicate" or perhaps as being "not right." I most certainly would not have had access to the same kind of treatment that has helped me so greatly today.

And yet, even as I write this, I realize I have now "put myself out there." While I've never been one to shy away from talking about my experience with mental illness, I haven't been quick to take out a billboard ad either. What will my church think? Horror of horrors.... pastor's wives can be clinically depressed????

I guess my hope is that by opening up about my own experiences, I might inspire others in the church to realize that it's okay to talk about mental illness. Not only is it okay to talk about it, it's okay to BE mentally ill. Mental illness is as real a medical problem as the flu or a broken leg. And like broken legs, mental illness can be treated. What it SHOULD NOT be is hidden or ignored. You'd never walk around on a broken leg. It would be painful, foolish, and would lead to much more serious problems in the long run. No one in his or her right mind would ever consider simply ignoring or "shaking off" a broken leg. And yet, this happens time and time again with people who suffer mental illness.

Admittedly, there isn't a lot said in the Bible about mental illness, or what the church's response to it should be. However, in my own studies I have become convinced of a couple of things. First, I've come to believe that David, he of kingly heritage, sheep and harp-playing, was clinically depressed, perhaps even bi-polar. If you don't believe it, consider some of his writings:

"I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief. My life is consumed by anguish and my years by groaning, my strength fails because of my affliction, and my bones grow weak. Because of all my enemies I am the utter contempt of my neighbors, I am a dread to my friends, those who see me on the street flee from me." (Psalm 31: 9-11)

I have thought and felt similar things during some of my own dark moments. I identify very closely with David in many regards, and have come to take great comfort in the Psalms, knowing that I am not the only person in history to have felt such overwhelming heaviness, and also knowing that I, like David, understand that on the flip side of the coin there is hope:

"The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them, He delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit. A righteous man may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all." (Psalm 34: 17-19)

The other thing that I have become convinced of is that the church needs to respond to mental illness with compassion. Again, there's not a lot about mental illness in the Bible. However, there is a great deal in the Bible about responding compassionately to people in other awkward and socially-stigmatized life situations. Take Jesus' encounter with the "sinful" woman, whom we assume to have been a prostitute or of similar ilk, who wished to express her deep love for Jesus. Those around him were disgusted when she began weeping uncontrollably at his feet, washing them with her tears and drying them with her unbound hair.

Jesus fellow dinner guests were appalled, questioning his very divinity ("If this man were a prophet, he would know who was touching him and what kind of woman she is." Luke 7:39) They chided her wastefulness when she anointed Jesus' feet with expensive perfume: "It could have been sold for more than a year's wages and the money given to the poor." (Mark 14:5)

But Jesus rebuked them, responding with compassion to this woman who understood more than anyone else at that table that she had been rescued from so much.

In other instances we see Jesus extending compassion to social outcasts like lepers, offering healing and forgiveness of sin and even skin to skin contact, something that was so socially repulsive that it was actually forbidden. We see him reacting in love to those who were possessed with evil spirits, drawing physically and emotionally near to them when no one else would.

I can't help but believe that this is what Jesus wants us to do with those who suffer mental illness. Instead of ignoring it, pretending it doesn't exist, or relegating those who suffer it to the very fringes of our congregations (much as the demoniac who was forced to live in a graveyard), I believe Jesus calls us to embrace those who might otherwise be deigned social outcasts, to acknowledge their sufferings, and to show love and compassion.

Mental illnesses like clinical depression are difficult to understand for those who haven't suffered them. I think it's okay not to understand. (I don't understand what it's like to have a broken leg, having never broken a bone in my lifetime.) But the church is still responsible to reach out in love to the mentally ill, like I think Jesus would do, with love and compassion and a great deal of grace.

Facebook: The New Prayer Chain

2009-07-29T17:29:00.000-07:00

Remember the church prayer chain? Many churches around North America still have active prayer chain ministries. For those who think a prayer chain is a piece of jewelry, let me enlighten you.

A prayer chain consists of a group of volunteers who agree to pray for prayer requests as they are submitted by church members. Prayer requests are directed to the person at the top of the "chain" (usually the leader of the prayer chain ministry.) He or she then delivers that prayer request to a small group of individual volunteers (in the "olden days" this occurred by telephone.) Each of those individuals then delivers that same request to a group of individual volunteers underneath him/her, and so on until everyone in the prayer chain ministry has received the request. It's a fast way to get multiple people (dozens or even hundreds) interceding in prayer on behalf of one person. (Think "Pyramid Scheme," except in this version you get prayed for instead of ripped off.)

My church has a very active prayer ministry, though it's a little less formal than an organized "prayer chain," and probably a lot faster than the old-fashioned telephone variety. Prayer requests can be submitted to a staff, board or prayer team member. These three groups of people work closely together to ensure that each of the other groups knows that a prayer request has been made, and most of the communication is done by email, which tends to be faster, less invasive, and more reliable than the phone prayer chain.

My husband and I recently experienced a whole new twist on the good old-fashioned prayer chain. A couple of weeks ago my middle child came down with what appeared to be a pesky but tenacious virus. It turned out to be parvo-virus, a garden variety flu-type bug that strikes just about everyone on the planet during childhood.

Parvo-virus is normally little more than a nuisance. What differentiates it from other flu-like viruses is that it attacks the bone marrow and temporarily halts the production of red blood cells.

Human beings normally make a surplus of red blood cells for just such times as these. However, my two sons happen to have hereditary spherocytosis, an inherited blood disorder which inhibits the proper production of red blood cells. The cells that are produced are the wrong shape (spherical instead of round) and subject to attack by the spleen, which thinks they are foreign substances and therefore wipes out many of them. So parvo-virus can be deadly for my two boys.
My son got very ill very quickly, and ended up needing an emergency blood transfusion and hospital stay.

As I threw together an overnight bag so that I could accompany my son to the hospital, I quickly posted a request for prayer on Facebook. To my surprise, hundreds of people knew within hours of my son's admittance to the hospital and had already prayed for Joshua's recovery. And not just locals either.... people from all over Canada and the United States were praying for my son before he'd even drained the first of two bags of blood that he needed.

I couldn't help but marvel at this modern twist on the prayer chain. This is not intended to be an endorsement for Facebook (though I admit that I am slightly addicted to it.) I am also aware that Facebook has been misused, abused and employed as a tool to promote all sorts of insidious ideas and causes and has even served to destroy the careers and reputations of people (even Christians.) But Facebook, when used wisely, can also be a tremendous tool for the church in general, and for individual Christians, particularly in times of need as I so recently came to discover.

As it turned out, Joshua graciously shared his virus with his little brother Josiah (now why can't I get them to share toys?) and a week later we found ourselves in a re-run except with a different child. Once again we turned to Facebook for prayer, and were deeply rewarded to find so many friends praying for us and encouraging us, even people that we haven't seen in years. I am exceedingly grateful for this contemporary twist on the prayer chain.

Building Bridges

2009-05-19T13:00:00.000-07:00

For the last two years or so, my children and I have watched with fascination as a massive suspension bridge has been built just up river from where we live. Its impressive spans and vaulting cables can be seen towering above centuries-old groves of trees that line either side of the river over which it crosses, linking two major communities together that were once joined only by a quaint but slow and inconvenient ferry system.

Every time we would drive by this work in progress, we would observe the latest additions to the structure and comment on how the bridge was taking shape. Sometimes it seemed as though nothing visible was being accomplished for days at a time, even though dozens and dozens of workers were always present. Other times it was as though whole sections of bridge would appear seemingly overnight, as if bridge fairies had visited in the wee hours of the morning.

We also marveled at the various aspects of bridge building that were surprising to us. One day we drove by and noticed piles and piles of giant bricks with nubs on the sides. This excited my boys greatly: "They look just like giant Legos, Mom!" Turns out, they were made from styrofoam. Who knew bridges can be built with styrofoam?

The last several months have been the most exciting to watch, as more and more spans were added from each end, until they finally met near the middle and the last piece was dropped in. After years of building, the bridge is complete and will open to the public in less than a month.

Every time I drive by that bridge, I can't help but think of all that goes into building bridges. Over two years of work, and that doesn't even include the years and years of planning that go into such an effort. It's a remarkable thing to begin with an idea, and years later finally see all those plans and all of the work culminate into a suspension bridge that will stand for decades (maybe even centuries) and see the passage of billions and billions of vehicles over its length.

In fact, it reminds me an awful lot of ministry in general, and church ministry in particular. After all, isn't this what we're all doing in all of our churches all over the world? Ministry is all about building bridges. Whether professional or lay ministers, we work at building bridges between parents and children, children and adults, teens and adults, teens and their peers, old and young, husbands and wives, couples, ethnic groups, Christians and non-Christians, mature Christians and new, "baby" Christians.... and the list goes on and on.

Building bridges in our churches doesn't happen overnight either. Much as our Golden Ears bridge has been years in the making, it takes time to build bridges in our churches. It's easy as leaders (professional or otherwise) to get discouraged because, let's face it: sometimes it seems that little or no progress is being made. We often bump up against hurdles that seem to set progress back. It's easy to feel like "throwing in the towel" and walking away from a half-built bridge in frustration.

Watching this bridge go from a concept to a grand suspension bridge that will link two communities together and vastly change the way we travel, recreate and do business has been a powerful visual object lesson and reminder to me that bridges are not built overnight. Instead, when they are discussed, planned, designed with purpose, and built with proper care and due attention (including working through the inevitable glitches) they become a thing of awe and a beacon for and symbol of change, progress and brand new relationships.

"[I am confident] that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day that Jesus Christ returns." Philippians 1:6

Three Easy Ways that the Church Can Help Strengthen the Pastor's Marriage

2009-05-06T17:22:00.000-07:00

Pastor Kevin Martineau of Port Hardy Baptist Church (my husband and I go back to Bible college days with him and his wife) recently returned from the Emotionally Healthy Spirituality Conference in New York City. He shares some of his thoughts about his and his wife's experiences there in his blog, Shooting the Breeze. I found his thoughts not only intriguing, but also realized that many of his experiences trying to balance marriage with ministry were eerily similar to mine and my husband's own experiences.

Ministry can be very hard on a marriage, which doesn't seem logical considering Christian ministry and Christian marriage both supposedly center around the same thing (Jesus Christ.) And yet my husband and I can attest to this fact, having been in both marriage and ministry for almost 17 years now.

Shepherding a flock (whether big or small or somewhere in between) can take a toll on the Pastor and his wife. It can be exhausting both physically and emotionally to spend ten or twelve hours a day (let's face it... I don't know many pastors who work eight hour days. Do you?) ministering to the needs of others, and then somehow find the emotional energy to come home and connect with your spouse. Throw in kids on top of that, and you have the perfect recipe for marriage burnout.

If it's true, as Pastor Kevin suggests, that a church is only as healthy as the marriage(s) of its pastor(s), I think it stands to reason that the church is in a prime position to benefit a great deal from helping to nurture those marriages. So what, exactly, can the church do to help ensure that its pastor's marriage thrives?

Seventeen years in ministry has by no means made us marriage experts (and believe me, we've had our share of marital struggles,) but it has given us some very good insight into how a church can encourage its pastor(s) to have good marriage(s.) Here are just a few of those insights:

1) Don't phone the pastor on his day off. Nothing short of death or near-death is so critical that it can't wait until tomorrow. Most pastors take only one full day off per week. This has been the case for us ever since my husband entered full-time ministry, and has been the case for every single other pastor we have ever worked with. Even pastors who are fortunate enough to get two days off in a week need to really be able to escape the workplace. Many pastors devote those days off to spending time with their spouses, since it's often the only one they have together in a week. Parishioners should recognize this and save their business for the next workday so that the pastor can feel as though he can put work aside and focus fully on his spouse.

2) Respect his desire to maintain balance. In many churches the pastor is expected to be a part of most or even all of the goings-on at the church. There's a good chance he's already out several nights per week on church affairs. Don't add another night onto his plate if it means he'll be sacrificing time with his wife and family. Running at a breakneck pace without any chance to connect during the week can leave a pastor exhausted and his wife frustrated, neither of which is conducive to marital bliss.

3) Be intentional about seeing that your pastor and spouse get away together. Pastors don't make a lot of money. (Shocking, isn't it?) Sometimes it's difficult for the pastor and his wife to budget for a dinner out, let alone a weekend away together. Trust me when I tell you that the best gifts my husband and I have been given by our congregations over the years are those that came in the form of dinner gift certificates and paid-for weekend getaways. (When our kids were little these often came with offers of free babysitting.) Just a couple of these kinds of gifts each year can make a gigantic difference in the relationship of the pastor and his wife. (Try sending them to a marriage enrichment conference for double the bang for your buck.)

These really are easy and relatively painless ways to show your pastor and his wife that you care about their marriage. The dividends that the church will receive in return far outweigh any cost (financial or otherwise) incurred.

Read Pastor Kevin's thoughts on maintainting an emotionally healthy marriage: "As Goes the Pastor's Marriage, So Goes the Church."

The Value of Mentorship

2009-04-28T19:47:00.000-07:00

Recently I was talking with a friend about the idea of mentoring relationships: what that looks like, and why mentoring is important. I'm not sure if she realized it, but I actually considered her a "mentor," and I value her wisdom and maturity as much as I do her friendship.

When you think of the word "mentor," what kinds of images come to mind? The picture that usually jumps into my mind initially looks something like a young Luke Skywalker conversing with Yoda.... old (and by old, I mean REALLY old. Elderly old. White hair, gray wispy beard OLD) imparting wise sayings to a young charge over a cup of herbal tea ("Size matters not, ... Look at me. Judge me by size, do you?”) and generally being boring with one another. Maybe the occasional Light Sabre match. But overall, BORING.

Is that what mentoring is really all about? I suppose there is much to be learned by sitting at the feet of one who emulates Socrates and listening to wise sayings all day long. But I think sometimes Christians make mentoring too complicated. Mentoring doesn't have to be about Bible study (though I'm certainly not knocking Bible studies.) What mentoring should be about is friendship.

About a year ago my husband and I took a course on marriage mentoring. The basic philosophy of this particular program is that married couples need mentors in the way of another married couple who is more experienced at marriage, that is, who have been married longer. The program encourages these "experienced" couples to get together with a newly married couple on a regular basis, not for Bible study or to discuss philosophy, but just to talk. To hang out, have coffee, talk about what married life is like, bounce questions and ideas off one another.

Mentors in this particular program didn't have to be Bible scholars, nor were they expected to know all the answers. They are simply asked to befriend and listen.

I think THAT is what mentoring is really about. Whether it's marriage mentoring, or mentoring in general, it's not about mentors having all the answers or being perfect Christians. It's about sharing one's own greater experience with someone less experienced.

I have a number of mentors in my own life who are older than I am, some just a few years older, others who are decades more experienced at life than I. In fact, my best friend is twenty years older than I am, and I cherish her as both a friend and a mentor. I don't know if she realizes how smart she is, and I know that she doesn't "know it all," but I value her life experiences and treasure her willingness to share those experiences with me (both the good and the bad.)

I believe I've grown a great deal under her "counsel," which usually consists of us chatting over a cup of coffee or taking a walk together. It's nothing complicated, and often we don't even talk about "deep" issues when we're together. Nevertheless, her experience and maturity has definitely enriched my life, even if we're just comparing lasagna recipes or complaining about our husbands' snoring!

I also have relationships where I myself might be considered the mentor. And I know that being on the mentoring end of the relationship is just as rewarding as being the mentoree (is that even a word?) I know I also have a great deal to gain from investing myself in a younger generation. I know that my young friends don't expect me to have all the answers (thank God, because most of the time I'm really, really dumb,) just like I know that MY mentors don't have all the answers. And that's okay with them. Because it's more about listening and caring and less about giving answers.

When I step back and take a look at both those who mentor me, and those whom I mentor, there is a span of three generations between them all. What a simple but powerful way to fulfill God's simple command to "love one another." It amazes me to think about the wealth of experience that is being passed down the chain from the oldest to the youngest. And this pattern is being replicated over and over again, not only in my own church but in the church at large, the worldwide Bride of Christ. Think of how the world could change if everyone had mentor!

Earth Day is Special When you Know the Creator

2009-04-21T17:04:00.000-07:00

Earth Day is celebrating its 29th birthday this year. Earth Day was first founded in 1970 by American Senator Gaylord Nelson who hailed from the state of Wisconsin. Nelson was an activist on a number of fronts, including health care and the environment.

The political climate leading up to the first Earth Day, April 22, 1970, was not unlike today's political climate. Concern for the environment was charged with fear, with one major difference: 29 years ago, the great fear was over global cooling.

Nevertheless, Nelson's efforts sparked a movement that has continued for nearly three decades. While interest in Earth Day and its celebrations has waxed and waned during that period, the current political climate has inspired renewed interest in Earth Day and all that it entails. This is likely due in large part to Al Gore's 2006
film An Inconvenient Truth. And while it has since been criticized for some of its faulty reasoning and misguided use of "facts," it has helped to raise a new awareness of this planet on which we reside, and which we must one day leave to our children and grandchildren.

But what should Earth Day mean to Christians and the church? Earth Day has historically been celebrated as a grassroots movement by environmentally-minded organizations and the odd ruling government. One rarely hears of churches making an effort to join in on the front lines of stewardship of our planet.

This is unfortunate, since Earth Day is rife with opportunities for the church to rub shoulders with people in the communities in which they minister. Ordinary citizens are more open to embracing conservation and stewardship now than they have been in twenty years, making it a virtual mission field just waiting to be permeated by those who should know best the value of caring for the earth.

Who better to lead the way in conserving, sustaining and nurturing the planet than those to whom God Himself gave the direct charge? From His very first command to Adam to "...fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves over the ground" (Gen. 1:28) to the reminder in Psalm 115:16 that "The highest heavens belong to the Lord, but the earth He has given to man," to the hundreds of other verses which proclaim the Lord's love for His creation, it's clear that conservation and stewardship are Biblically sound principles.

Of course, man went on to fall from grace, which ultimately made caring for the earth, and in particular, reaping the fruits of the earth, more difficult. This may be all the more reason that the church should be leading the way when in making our planet greener and healthier. We have centuries of earth-abuse and taking for granted God's creation to make up for.

While they are becoming more common, I still see very few churches with recycling bins. Many have them in their offices, but I've seen just a handful with recycling bins in even the main entryway, let alone every room that is used by the public. What a simple way for the church to show care and responsibility for the world that God has so graciously given for us to enjoy!

There are many things that churches can do to set an example and take seriously God's command to care for earth. (And by the way, they can do them all year round, not just on April 22):

*Switch to biodegradable products. Our church recently switched from styrofoam to biodegradable coffee cups. They cost a little bit more than the styrofoam kind, but we estimate that our church will be keeping between twenty-six and thirty thousand styrofoam cups out of our landfill each year.

*Employ water conservation techniques. High-efficiency toilets can save tens of thousands to millions of gallons of water per year, depending on the size of your church. Installing rain barrels keeps rain water from being wasted: use the water they collect to keep the grounds and gardens beautiful without turning on the tap.

*Use blue bins. Even if you can't afford to put them in every room in the building, at least put a few large ones in central, high-traffic areas, rather than just in the office. Then encourage parishioners to keep recyclables out of the church garbage cans.

*Compost organic matter. Think of all those grass clippings and leftovers from church dinners. Compost it all, and then donate it to individual gardeners in the church, or to a local community gardens project. Or, feed the church's flower beds with it.

*Adopt a highway. Many communities in North America have Adopt-a-Highway programs. Your church can join and commit to picking up garbage along a particular stretch of road in your community. The commitment level is usually once per month for a few hours. Your local roads department usually supplies gloves, garbage pick-up sticks, bags and safety gear. This is an excellent way to raise your church's profile in your home community.

There are hundreds of ways your church can become green, reduce its carbon footprint, and shine the light of stewardship in your local community. It's one small way to bring honor and glory "to Him alone who does great wonders, who by His understanding made the heavens, who spread out the earth upon the waters, who made the great lights- the sun to govern the day, the moon and stars to govern the night... His love endures forever!" (From Psalm 136:4-9.) And this year on Earth Day, celebrate the fact that you know the Creator personally.

Supporting the VISIBLE Ministers

2009-04-14T20:14:00.000-07:00

When you're involved in a VISIBLE ministry in a church, sometimes you have the opposite problem from those invisible ministers we looked at last week. "Visible" ministers are those whom everyone at church can see, in real time, doing ministry. They are the preachers, teachers, group leaders and worship team musicians. They are the ones who have chosen to take on a position, whether professional or lay, that puts them in something of a spotlight.

While invisible ministers can be hard to pin down ("Boy, I wish I knew who designs all those great advertising posters."), visible ministers can't be ignored. As such, they are often subject to a great deal more criticism than the church's invisible ministers.

Those who minister in positions where they are seen by so many other people do so because God has gifted them specifically to preach, teach, sing, lead, etc. Let's face it: getting up in front of a crowd is not everyone's cup of tea (or coffee, as the case may be.) It takes a special kind of anointing! But even those who enjoy being in front of people get discouraged when others feel that they are justified in doling out criticism, as if "they asked for it."

Here's how you can lend your support to all those "visible ministers" in your own church:

1) Recognize the emotional toll of visible ministry: Even for the most gifted orators, it takes a great deal of emotional energy to get up in front of a group of people and carry out whatever task God has entrusted him or her with. As such, it's best not to catch the pastor immediately after the service to criticize his poor grammar during his sermon. Nor should you comment to the pianist that her timing was off from the rest of the worship band. These kinds of comments are very defeating, and may actually sap what little energy the person has left.

2) Don't sweat the small stuff: If you sat through a compelling Bible study and all you came away with was the thought that the teacher's skirt was too short, you've missed the point. Focus on what's really important. And please, don't talk about her clothing choice with other people!

3) Cut them some slack: Because visible ministry can take such an emotional toll, visible ministers sometimes need to take a break from their ministries. This is okay! Even Jesus got tired and escaped to the hills to pray and find spiritual refreshment. Never criticize a visible minister for "not using his/her gifts." Besides, just because he or she isn't up front any more doesn't mean he or she isn't still serving somewhere.

4) Don't put visible ministers on a pedestal: People who serve as teachers and preachers and in various other public ministries are no different than anyone else in the church. They hurt sometimes. They get tired. And they even stumble. They're as human as every other church member.

And by all means, offer verbal thanks and encouragement. A word of thanks can be all it takes to restore that lost emotional energy.

Supporting the "Invisible Ministers"

2009-04-06T22:06:00.000-07:00

These "Invisible Ministers" that I speak of are not super-heroes with the power to disappear at will. But I often think they are the real "super-heroes" of the church. The invisible ministers are the ones that the church at large almost never sees and rarely hears. They are the ones who do some of the hardest, most tedious and monotonous jobs around the building, in worship services and at gatherings.

The invisible ministers are the people who get up early and get to church on Sunday before everyone else so that they can make the coffee. They are the ones who volunteer to climb the scaffolding at every spring cleaning bee to polish the stained glass windows in the sanctuary. They are the ladies who spend hours each week cutting shapes out of construction paper for the Sunday School children's craft. They are the men who replace the worn and broken ceiling tiles in the church social hall.

Sometimes we church-goers put a lot of stock in our VISIBLE ministers: the ones who sing or play an instrument on a worship team, the preachers, the teachers, the leaders, the movers and the shakers. And of course, their roles are extremely important. But often we get so caught up in the visible that we forget about the invisible.

Imagine fellowship times without coffee or clean dishes. Imagine trying to entertain Sunday School children for an hour without a craft to put together. What would it be like if nobody shoveled the walkway to the front doors? What if no one ever pruned the rose bushes or planted new marigolds in the spring? What if communion ceased because no one volunteered to fill the communion cups or prepare the bread? All of these roles are equally important in the church at large. And it is these volunteers who get the least thanks for their roles.

There's a good chance that most of these volunteers don't do what they do in order to get recognition. Some may even prefer to serve "behind the scenes." But a "thank you" is always nice just the same, and may be just the shot of energy that an invisible minister needs to keep on doing what he or she is doing.

Some of the best ways to thank them are also the easiest:

1)Make a point to find out who does a particular job in your church: Next time you're at a potluck, take a minute to personally thank the dishwashers and table setters. If you taste a particularly delicious pastry on a Sunday morning, find out who baked it and let them know how much you enjoyed it. Keep your eyes open and look around: there are probably dozens of little things that have been done during the week by one of those invisible ministers. It might take a little bit of detective work to find out who did what, but you may just make someone's day when you thank them for their contribution to your church.

2)Don't complain: So the coffee is a bit strong. Complaining aloud can be defeating for the person who actually arrived early to make it. Keep negative thoughts and comments to yourself.

The church needs its invisible ministers just as much as its visible ministers. So let them know just how much you appreciate the things that they do!

Finding Your Sabbatical

2009-03-31T08:53:00.001-07:00

I've been spending time lately pondering the idea of "Sabbatical." Sabbaticals are increasingly common these days in both the Christian and the secular professional world. The original idea, though, has its roots in early Hebrew tradition.

Sabbatical, in a nutshell, relates to the early command that God gave to Moses to pass on to the Jewish people. The story is found in Leviticus 25, which recounts God instructing the Jews to sow their fields for six years, and then let the fields rest in the seventh year, or the Sabbath (Sabbatical) year.

Sabbaticals in the secular market are typically associated with institutions of higher learning: professors are often granted a term of "sabbatical" from their teaching posts. These are not necessarily granted automatically, but are based on a professor's longevity, job performance, level of education, and more often than not, what he or she plans to do with his/her time of sabbatical. Usually university instructors embark on a sabbatical to conduct research or study which directly relates to his/her particular niche.

Universities are not the only work places to grant sabbaticals anymore though. The idea is catching on with other workplaces, including some of today's churches and even denominations as a whole.

Perhaps in an ideal world we could all take a sabbatical year. Imagine a year off to pursue rest, renewal and spiritual growth. I could certainly use some of that! However, this is just not the reality for most of us in the real world.

And yet the concept is so appealing, I've been pondering just how to work some sabbatical into my own life, without actually having to quit my work (I am my own boss, and the boss says her kids need to eat this year.) I've managed to come across some creative ideas, and one or more of them may work for you:

1) Re-focus your Sabbath: Christians are already warm to the idea of taking a Sabbath day each week as a day of rest. Many times though we don't do this. Put some sabbatical into your week by revisioning your Sabbath day, whatever day that happens to be. For some it can't be Sunday, because in our seven-days-a-week world Sunday is a workday. If that's the case, take whatever day you do happen to have off, and actually use it to pursue your sabbatical goals.

2) Give up an activity or obligation for a period of time: For many (like me) there just aren't any hours left in the day to pursue new goals. I've decided that I'm taking my own six month sabbatical from one of my current activities, and will instead use the time I would normally devote to that activity to pursuing my Sabbatical interests. (Just don't give up walking the dog or taking out the garbage.... those are the kinds of activities you'll really regret ignoring eventually.)

3) Choose a small, daily sabbatical: If you can't part with any of your activities or responsibilities over a longer period of time, set aside twenty or thirty minutes (or more) a day as your sabbatical. This might mean sending the kids to bed a little bit earlier (they might fight it now, but they'll thank you later when you're calm, serene and easier to live with,) cutting corners on housework (nobody inspects under your beds... let the dust bunnies accumulate for awhile,) cooking simpler meals (you can make almost any meal from a box or bag in under twenty minutes,)or getting your head shaved so you don't have to do your hair anymore (I dare you to try that one.) Again, you don't have to carry this on for the duration of your life. Pick a period of time, say three to six months, to carry out this particular goal. Afterwards, call in the professional duct cleaners with their industrial-strength vacuum cleaners to tackle those killer dust bunnies.

There's no rule about what to do with your sabbatical, though the ultimate goal should be to grow closer to God. For my sabbatical, I plan to take more nature walks and have coffee at least once per week with someone from church. (Remember, coffee is my new ministry!) I look forward to what God is going to do in my life in the next six months.

Coffee is my New Ministry

2009-03-23T20:41:00.000-07:00

Let me clarify that a bit: not making coffee, or serving coffee (although both of those are also wonderful ministries. Someone's gotta make the Sunday morning brew!) Having coffee is my new ministry.

I have to admit that for several years now I've felt as though something was missing from my volunteer ministry portfolio. Like many pastor's wives, I've done a gamut of jobs around the church. Some of them I've really liked (singing on a worship team for instance) and others, well.... not so much (leading a week of VBS for three and four year olds. Some people are really good with preschoolers. I am not one of those people.) In fact, there are many weeks when I've wondered why I don't just set up a bed in my husband's office. I spend so much time at the church that I think it would just be less trouble not to have to go home at night.

Yet I can't help but find it funny that even though I can spend hours and hours at the church "doing ministry," I often don't feel as though I've actually FELLOWSHIPPED with other people. I think the problem is threefold, at least for me:

1) Churches tend to be program-oriented: Aren't we all about our programs? Children's programs, youth programs, women's programs, men's programs, outreach programs.... the list goes on. And the bigger the church, the more programs there are. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in creating, executing and maintaining programs that we run out of time to just hang out with each other. We frequently find this to be true as a team of staff and spouses at our church: each staff member is so busy running his or her own programs that it's difficult to find time for us to get together just to have fun.

2) Tasks over people: Sure, we could fellowship with the people that we serve with in ministry. And sometimes I do. But the problem is that often when we are serving we are so focused on completing the task of getting the job done (cooking the pancakes for the men's breakfast, making prayer leaflets for the prayer team, keeping the Sunday School kids from coloring on the walls) that we really don't have time for quality fellowship with those with whom we are volunteering. (Have you ever tried to carry on a personal conversation with someone while counting the Sunday morning offering?)

3) Task-oriented personality: This is my major problem. Some people don't have this issue, but those like me who do tend to miss out on the most fellowship. My workaholic nature makes it hard for me to simply sit and drink coffee for an hour. It's hard for me to settle down when I know that there's work to be done, dinner to be cooked, homework to help with, etc. Who has time for coffee? And yet I know that spending time with people in a small and personal setting is crucial for developing and nurturing relationships. It is these core relationships that will strengthen the body of believers and the church as a whole. Doing church without building upon personal relationships is like constructing a house without a foundation.

Our church has gone through some rough times in recent months, and throughout it all I've found that it's been the personal relationships that I've developed within the church that have helped keep me going. I've had numerous coffee invitations in the last while, because people are reaching out and clinging to what is most important in a church when hard times hit: personal relationships.

There is good reason that the writer of Hebrews instructed us "Not [to] give up meeting together" (Hebrews 10:25.) I've come to believe that this applies not only to the assembling together of saints for corporate worship, but also to getting together one on one and with small groups to nurture and encourage one another. I am beginning to learn and appreciate anew how important it is to just take time to be with other people. I believe that "doing coffee" is as vital a ministry as any in the church.

Anyone else agree? Call me, we'll do coffee ministry together!

What if Church was Like Fast Food?

2009-03-17T14:18:00.000-07:00

Megan was shocked when she walked into church that Sunday morning. A line-up of church-goers snaked almost to the door. She stood on her tiptoes to see what the line-up was for.

Straining to look over the heads of the crowd in front of her, she realized that the line began at a counter. Over the counter was a menu board, like the kind you'd find at McDonalds. On it were thousands of songs, sermon topics, and other items like "baptism," "church membership," "tithe (with a fill-in-the-blank for the amount)" and even a "no-tithe, no financial appeal" option.

"Wow," Megan thought, "This is great! Finally, a church experience that's tailored just for ME!."

Of course, waiting in line was a bit of a hassle. But, Megan figured, it would be worth it.

As she got closer to the front of the line she overheard others placing their orders.

"I'd like four hymns with a side of pipe organ, and PLEASE hold the drums" an elderly woman said. "I can't STAND drums!"

Beside her a teenager with blue hair and a lip ring asked, "Do you have the punk version of "Blessed Be Your Name?"

One of the ladies behind the counter was saying to the man in her queue, "The usual today Mr. Johnson?" Mr. Johnson answered gruffly, "Of course, and make sure my sermon is in King James only this time!"

One young woman ordered "Extended prayer time" while still another ordered "Less prayer, otherwise I fall asleep!"

Megan couldn't believe it. When it was finally her turn to order, she picked all of her favorite worship songs, avoided hymns and brass instruments ("I HATE the saxophone!" she thought to herself), chose a sermon that would get her out of church in time to meet friends for lunch, and asked to be seated as far away from parents with babies and young children as possible ("They're just SO disturbing to my worship environment" she said the the gentleman behind the counter, who nodded knowingly in response.)

The service began shortly, and Megan was excited to see how her service order would unfold. She was certain this would be the best church service she ever experienced.

She wasn't quite prepared for the chaos that ensued. It was a cacophony of instruments, song styles, clashing instruments (like "resounding gongs and clanging cymbals" she'd thought to herself. "Funny, I never quite understood that passage like that....") When it was time for her sermon, she could barely hear it over all the shouting; different verses, passages, topics and translations (even a few foreign languages... the guy next to her thought he detected Aramaic in the mix. "Must be one of those Bible purists" he'd commented to her) swarmed around her so that she couldn't distinguish anything at all. She couldn't even tell when her program had ended, what with all of the singing and praying aloud still going on all around her.

Megan finally gave up and left. "Maybe," she wondered, "This isn't as great as I thought it would be. Wouldn't it be easier if we all just gave in a little, or even a lot, and just enjoyed worshipping together? After all," she reasoned, "I guess it IS really supposed to be about God, right?"

Parent Involvement is Critical to Kids' "Faith Success"

2009-03-10T16:41:00.000-07:00

If you have school-age children, you've probably already heard how crucial parent involvement is to a child's educational success. Children whose parents are actively involved in their kids' school experience have significantly higher graduation and lower school drop-out rates, better grades, a larger number of positive peer friendships, more consistent school attendance, and higher acceptance rates into post-secondary institutions than kids whose parents take a "hands-off" approach.

What parents often don't realize is that these same statistics and principles translate over into a child or teenager's church and faith experience. Of course, a parent cannot make a decision of faith in Christ for his or her child any more than a parent can do a child's homework for him and expect that he will go on to graduate university and be successful in the workplace. But parents CAN create an environment in which a child's interest in faith in Christ is piqued, accepted, nurtured and embraced. One simple but highly effective way to do this is to volunteer in church ministries that involve their children.

Sometimes this notion is a scary one to parents, especially when it comes to parents of teenagers. See if you've heard (or used) one of these common objections as reasons not to volunteer in your child's youth group:

* I don't want to invade my kid's space.

* He/she doesn't want me there.

* I don't think I'm cut out to work with teens.

These feelings are common, but they're misgivings that are usually unfounded and can easily be worked through (or around.)

The reality is, you don't have to lead a weekly youth Bible study to influence your child's "faith success" (unless that's what you're wired for... if so, you're a youth pastor's dream!) You can simply volunteer to chaperon the occasional youth road trip, pitch in at the concession stand or in the kitchen, or one more of a hundred small jobs that every youth pastor needs filled from time to time but doesn't require an ongoing commitment. You can be a presence within your child's youth group without being overbearing or "in his face."

Did you know that teens whose parents are involved with their kids' youth group experience are more likely to accept Christ at a younger age, have a higher rate of church attendance and lower church drop out rate after graduation, are bolder about sharing their faith with others, are more likely to seek baptism and church membership, more eager to volunteer for their own ministries within the church, and less likely to abandon their faith as adults than teens whose parents are not involved? These are some motivating reasons for parents to consider sticking around and helping out once in awhile rather than dropping their kids off for their youth group activities.

Ministering to the Hurting: Three Things NOT to Say to Someone in Grief

2009-03-03T16:35:00.000-08:00

Ministering to someone who has experienced a tragedy or loss (family death, accident, etc.)comes easier to some people in the church than others. Even professional pastors sometimes struggle to find the right words to comfort someone who is grieving.

My own experiences with grieving (both my own and others'), and the example set for me by the pastor of my own church, has taught me a great deal about how to minister to those who have experienced loss. I am by no means an expert on grieving. Rather, I have been able to draw from my own life circumstances, particularly the loss of my first baby, and have become more sensitive to the hurting, and more careful about the words that I use when I offer comfort. Those who helped my husband and I the most during our time of loss were those who did not minimize our experience by offering words such as these:

1) "I understand how you feel." These are well-intentioned words when used to try to comfort someone. However, many times this only minimizes the pain that a person is feeling, because unless you have actually been through the same type of loss, there really is no way that you can fully understand. In essence, it's like saying to him or her: "Your situation is not unique." In reality, every loss is different.

If you haven't experienced the same type of loss, a better phrase of comfort to use is "I am sorry for your loss." If you have been through a similar loss, try to identify with the person by using your own experience as a conversation starter to try to help the other person identify his or her own feelings: "When my husband died, I felt so alone, and like I didn't fit in with my old group of friends anymore. Is that how you are feeling?" Whether you can empathize or not, simply asking what kind of emotions the other person is experiencing can show that you care, and that you're genuinely interested in that person's unique situation.

2) "It will get better with time." This response to grief can come across as cold hearted. After a loss, a person may believe that he or she will never heal. It's not really practical to tell someone they will feel better in a week or a month or a year, because someone who is grieving wants to feel better now, not in a month. The first hours, days and weeks after a tragic loss is a dark time, and while you can't reverse the person's loss, you can use words like: "I will be here and I will walk with you every step of the way." This lets the grieving person know that he or she is not alone, and that you'll be there for as long as the healing takes.

3) "Let me know if you need anything." These are also well-intentioned words. But the truth is that people who are grieving often don't know what it is that they need. And like most people, grieving or otherwise, no one really likes to ask for help, and your grieving friend probably won't.

Instead, take initiative and offer specific and practical help. Think about all of the everyday things that may fall to the wayside during a period of grief, like cooking and housecleaning. Tell your friend that you are going to come over and clean her house for her. Or, prepare a dinner for him and simply drop it off at his house. There are dozens of practical ways to help someone who is suffering, and that person will be grateful to have one less meal to cook or to come home to a clean house when she least feels like doing those things for herself.

Above all, it's important to remember that there are no magic words for someone who is grieving. You don't have to feel as though you need to deliver sage advice. A hug goes a lot further than a "word of wisdom" with someone who is grieving.

And You Thought Being A PASTOR'S Wife was Hard....

2009-02-23T10:16:00.000-08:00

Next time you're tempted to give your husband the ultimatum ("Honey, it's the church or me"), remember, things could be worse. Be thankful you're not married to one of THESE ten guys:

1) Bounty Hunter:"Not tonight dear; I have to rendezvous with an axe murderer."
2) Nuclear Weapons Tester: "By the way darling, there's an 18 and a half percent chance that our future children will be born with two heads...."
3) Attack Dog Trainer: "Sorry babe, I have to work late tonight.... rush order for the Hell's Angels. By the way, my facial lacerations are healing nicely. You can hardly see the teeth marks anymore!"
4) Bomb Diffuser: "See you after work dear. Or not."
5) Dysentery Stool Sample Analyzer: Yes, this is a real job. I pity the woman married to the man who brings his work home with him.
6) Worm Taster: Also a real job. "No dinner for me tonight sweetheart. I couldn't eat another bite."
7) Snake Milker: Biblical or not (Mark 16:18), at least the "snakes" on a Deacon's board aren't full of deadly venom....
8) Bovine Inseminator: How's that for a romantic prelude????
9) Flatulence Analyst: Yes, this job is exactly what it sounds like. Even worse if you also happen to have boys at home.
10) Rodeo Clown. Now that would be just plain ridiculous.

I think I'll stay in the fishbowl for now! (Matt. 5:12)

These Walls Can Talk: Staying "Above Reproach" on Facebook

2009-02-16T20:38:00.000-08:00

"If thine Wall offend thee, purge it. For it is better to have a blank Facebook Wall than to risk thine reputation or the reputation of one of thine Facebook friends."

That's my 2009 version of Matthew 18:9. Of course, the original version is still as relevant today as it was the day it was written. But I can't help but wonder if the apostle Matthew were alive today and were to rewrite his gospel if he would include a reference to Facebook.

It's hard for me to believe that one year ago I hadn't even heard of Facebook. Today I am an avid fan, and rarely go a day without checking to see what all of my friends are up too. It's an excellent tool for modern communication, sharing thoughts, and keeping in touch in a busy world. I've managed to reconnect with friends I haven't heard from in years. The longest-lost friend I've managed to find so far is one that I lost touch with twenty years ago, and rekindling that old friendship has been a source of joy for me.

But it didn't take me long to discover that Facebook, with all its perks and benefits, also has some potential pitfalls too. The first one that affected me personally was my near "Superwall" fiasco.

The "Superwall" application allows users on your friend list to post pictures, images and video clips directly to your profile page. Once you add Superwall to your profile, you also see in your daily feed all of the things that people on your friend list are posting on other people's Superwalls, or that your friends are receiving from THEIR friends.

It was in this inadvertent manner that I received a disturbing and arguably X-rated picture, one that had been posted by someone who was not even on my friend list, to another person who was. As my then 10-year old daughter stood looking at the computer screen over my shoulder, I innocently opened up my home page only to have this disturbing image jump straight onto my screen.

It startled me so much that I actually cried out and threw my body over the screen to protect my daughter. Fortunately I managed to cover it before she fully absorbed the image. But it was one of my first encounters with the downside(s) of Facebook.

I removed the Superwall application from my profile that very day. But the incident caused me to explore other ways in which Facebook can be potentially damaging to Christians in general, and to professional ministers in particular.

My husband shared an unfortunate story he heard recently of a minister who was applying for a position in a church. She had all the right skills and qualifications, and seemed to be the perfect candidate for the church and the position.

As so many organizations and institutions do (such as college admissions boards, secular employers and more,) this church examined the candidate's Facebook profile. Though her own profile appeared to be "above reproach," her husband's profile indicated something less than savory, and it was this that cost her the perfect job.

There are hundreds of stories of Christians and ministers who have been caught in compromising positions, circumstances and situations due to the chance taking of a photograph. Professional and lay church leaders alike have been removed from positions of leadership and authority because someone, perhaps even someone the minsiter didn't know, took a questionable cell phone picture and posted it on Facebook.

Facebook can also be construed as the gossip chain of the new millenium. Christians carelessly post opinions (even seemingly innocuous ones), thoughts and even slander, forgetting that these words are seen by potentially hundreds or even thousands of people.

Even aspects of Facebook as innocent as one's profile "Wall" are potential hotbeds for trouble. It's a good thing our walls at home don't talk, but Facebook Walls do, so keeping their language clean and respectable requires attentiveness and discernment. They may even require the occassional "purging."

I know a number of Christians who have closed their Facebook accounts because of issues like these. While this may be a respectable choice, in some ways I can't help but feel that this is akin to throwing the baby out with the bathwater. There are so many advantages to being on Facebook (quick and easy communication with masses of people, keeping in touch with friends and family, even creating affinity within your church) that a strong case can be made for the merits of keeping an active Facebook profile, and even creating pages for your church, youth group, care group, etc.

But like any other aspect of our lives, we need to apply the principles of godliness to our Facebook activities. That may mean regularly scrutinizing our Walls, being careful about the applications that we add, and even being selective about our friend lists.

When it comes to the pastor or ministry leader, we have an even greater responsibility to watch our Facebook behavior, as outlined in I Timothy 3:2, which states in part: "The overseer [pastor, leader, shepherd, etc.] must be above reproach." Reproach is defined by Merriam Webster as "A cause or occasion of blame, discredit or disgrace." This is a serious charge, one which was not meant to be taken lightly by those who purport to minister over others. Few things could be worse than your "Walls" destroying your own ministry.

Coming to Terms: When God Throws a Curveball

2009-02-10T15:32:00.000-08:00

I've found myself pondering the meaning of "coming to terms" a lot lately. I'd always assumed the phrase meant coming to accept a particular life situation, usually in reference to a crisis or unexpected event. For example, "I've come to terms with my cancer," or some such circumstance.

But like so many other words, phrases and euphemisms in the English language, etymology often becomes muddled with the passage of time. It's sometimes surprising to find that common, ordinary words and phrases have colorful and prodigious origins.

So I set out to find the origin of "coming to terms." My quick desktop study revealed something eye-opening, a meaning that I had recently started to suspect was closer to the truth than merely "coming to accept."

I have yet to discover from whence the phrase exacted, but "coming to terms" actually refers to a bargaining process between two parties. When two entities are striking a contract, they must agree on the "terms" of the contract before either or both are willing to sign. Otherwise, parties may be bound to points or clauses which are disagreeable or even detrimental to their own interests.

And so, bargaining begins. Each side gives its own input. A draft contract is written. Then both sides examine the "terms" of the contract. If each entity finds the terms acceptable, they sign the contract. If not, they go back to bargaining, or trying to "come to terms."

Sometimes one or both sides have to give in a little, or even a lot, in order to achieve a contract that represents the best interests of each one. The cost of giving in on one or more "terms" must be weighed against the benefits of the overall contract. If the benefits outweigh those costs, then the two parties have "come to terms."

So what happens when you apply this idea to the Christian life? What happens when God throws you a curveball? You didn't ask for it, you didn't expect it, and you most certainly didn't want it. Whether it's a terminal illness, the death of a loved one or the loss of a career, is it fair to ask me to "come to terms" with it when God never consulted me first? The ball is already in play, but I didn't get a chance to weigh in on the "terms." So how, exactly, do I "come to terms" when the terms, and subsequently, the Author of those terms, cannot be bargained with?

I recently found myself pondering a curveball of my own, tempted once again to say "It's not fair." If only God would allow for changes to Term X, then I would gladly give in on Term Y. He and I could "come to terms" fairly, and this whole mess would be less painful for me.

But God cannot be bargained with. In reality, God does not ask for His children to "come to terms" with Him and His plans. Instead, He writes the contract, and then requires us to sign "as is." There is no bargaining, no pleading, no offering of favors in exchange for favors. I must simply accept whatever curveball He throws me.

Fortunately though, I do have a choice of responses. I can either stand there and be stubborn while a ball flies straight for my head (which would surely lead to more pain and disaster), or, I can accept His curveball and partake in His promise: "I will never leave you or forsake you." This particular promise, first delivered to Joshua in Deuteronomy 31:6, is repeated numerous times throughout the rest of the Bible.

Once the curveball has left the glove, there's no sending it back. So I guess I can either let it hit me in the face, or I can pick up my bat and smack it out of the park. I'll just have to make sure I ask for the biggest bat God has.

The Top Ten Things I "Love" About Being a Pastor's Wife

2009-02-02T21:43:00.000-08:00

10) Someone always notices when I wear a new outfit, even if my husband doesn't. In fact, they're probably analyzing it with half a dozen friends. Sometimes I'll get a phone call from someone who doesn't even go to my church asking me to model it for them. Sometimes, while pastoring at smaller churches, it would even make the following Sunday's bulletin.

9) If I get a great haircut, I hear about it.

8) If I get a bad haircut, I hear about it.

7) Editing my husband's sermons.

6) Arguing over a grammatical point in my husband's sermon, and wondering why he asked for my help in the first place if he didn't really want my opinion.

5) Correcting people who assume that I can play the piano.

4) Correcting people who assume that I would love to lead the church's children's ministry.

3) Watching other people put my husband on a pedestal while thinking to myself, "If they only knew how many times I pick his dirty socks and underwear up off the floor at home……."

2) Entertaining dinner guests that my husband forgot to tell me that he invited over.

1) The never-ending life lessons on thrift: how to stretch a dollar to its maximum while living on a Pastor's salary. Value Village, here I come!

Are there any pastor's wives out there who can relate? Share your stories with me.

Vomiting the Truth

2009-01-27T07:52:00.000-08:00

It seems clear that truth, that is, the telling of it, is a Biblical mandate. Truth is a topic that is covered hundreds of times in the Bible. Psalm 15:1-2 says, in part, "Lord, who may dwell in your sanctuary.....he whose walk is blameless, who does what is righteous, who speaks the truth from his heart..." Proverbs 12:22 makes another statement about truth: "The Lord detests lying lips, but He delights in men who are truthful." And as a body of believers, we MUST: "...put off falsehood and speak truthfully to [our] neighbor, for we are all members of one body" (Eph. 4:25.) It's apparent that truth is very important to God.

I don't know many Christians who would argue against that. I think maybe the problem with truth lies in the interpretation of what, exactly, is truth. Or perhaps, what isn't truth.

Truth is NOT opinion. In other words, just because it's YOUR opinion, it doesn't mean it's the truth. Is it TRULY how you feel? Yes. Is everyone entitled to an opinion? Of course. Is everyone entitled to share that opinion aloud? Not necessarily. Volunteering the truth in circumstances where it is not asked for or could be detrimental to the spiritual health of the believer receiving it must be considered very carefully first.

Truth is NOT uplifting in all circumstances. While the Bible makes it clear that all words spoken must be true words, it does not say that all true thoughts that pass through one's mind must always come out of one's mouth. The Bible frequently extols the value of mincing words where situations may warrant it. Consider the verse that immediately follows the one we've already looked at in Proverbs: "A prudent man keeps his knowledge to himself, but the heart of fools blurts out folly" (Prov. 12:23.)

Back to that passage in Psalm 15. It goes on to say in verses three and four: "...who has no slander on his tongue, who does his neighbor no wrong and casts no slur on his fellowman...who keeps his oath even when it hurts...He who does these things will not be shaken." If the truth is slanderous, if it leads to gossip, if it hurts a neighbor, if it leads to promise-breaking, or if it puts a fellow man or woman in a bad light before others, truth should be kept to oneself.

Vomiting is a reflex that cannot, for the most part, be controlled. As soon as one feels the urge to vomit, it's already to late to stop it in most cases. It spews forth in all its repulsiveness, never to return to from whence it came.

Truth need not be vomited. Those who go about vomiting the truth haven't learned to practice self control. "If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless"(James 1:26). Truth must be shared gently, and in love, respect and humility. If this cannot be done, then truth should be kept to oneself. Vomiting the truth simply leads to a big, putrid mess.

It's a New Year... Time to Break More Promises?

2009-01-20T20:07:00.000-08:00

With humble apologies to my followers... clearly it's been over two months since I last posted. With that, I give you my first New Year's resolution for 2009:

- To post once per week.

To tell you the truth, that's my only New Year's resolution. I had another one... to lose five pounds, but I'm happy to say that two weeks into 2009 I've already accomplished that one. I'm back down to my healthy weight range, though I am sure I'll fight The Battle of The Bulge for the rest of my life. (See "Confessions of a Fat Girl.")

For the last couple of weeks I've been pondering "Speaking the Truth" in a spirt of truth and love. Circumstances of late in our church have brought me to a place of asking some important and hard questions about speaking the truth in a way that builds up the body of Christ rather than tears it down. I have become convinced that truth must be told in all circumstances, but must always be balanced with love and respect for one another. So I'll study that one a little bit more this week and get back to you next week with my findings.

Peace On Earth, War at Home: Advice for Engaged Couples for Avoiding Christmas Battles

2008-11-14T20:26:00.000-08:00

Entering marriage is like getting a new job: much of its success results from on-the-job training, but if you go into it with little or no preparation at all you will be set up to fail.

As a pastoral couple, my husband and I have had the privilege of counseling engaged couples and helping them prepare them for the ups and downs of marriage. The "Ups," of course, are wonderfully easy to navigate. But it's those "Downs" that will chart a course for marital break-up if a couple is blindsided by them. That's where pre-marital counseling comes in: it helps couples to identify and anticipate those potential conflict areas before they occur, and gives them tools to solve them before they have a chance to wreak havoc on the marriage.

One potential area for conflict in nearly 100% of all Christian marriages is one that is rarely anticipated or discussed: what to do for the holidays. Times like Christmas, which most couples assume will automatically be happy and joy-filled, can actually introduce a great deal of conflict into a marriage.

Christmas is a prime example of a holiday that's rife with tradition from start to finish. When two people with two different (sometimes vastly so) sets of traditions come together and try to celebrate Christmas as a couple, the results may be disastrous if both spouses are not prepared ahead of time. The best time to talk about Christmas traditions is before getting married, not December 1 of your first year together.

I'll use a personal example. When my husband and I got married, we decided to alternate who we would spend Christmas day with. One year it would be his parents, the next, mine. Neither side challenged us on this (which isn't the case with many newly-married couples), since his parents lived in the same town, while mine lived four hours away. It wasn't as if either set of parents could expect us to go to both homes in one day.

Where the conflict actually entered, ironically, was in the Christmas dinner menu. My in-laws always cooked a traditional holiday meal of turkey or ham, potatoes, yams, vegetables, pie, the whole works.

My family was, shall we say, a little less traditional when it came to Christmas cuisine. Having had four young children, my Mom simply decided one year that she would rather spend Christmas day enjoying the delight of her four daughters instead of spending eight hours over a hot stove. We never again ate turkey on Christmas Day. Instead, we began a new tradition. Every Christmas my Mom would serve appetizers and finger foods. There were always at least six or seven different dishes, all prepared for the most part ahead of time or store-bought. We ate buffet-style, all day long. It was the only day of the year that we were allowed to eat whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted.

The first year that we spent as a married couple with my family was wrought with a small amount of angst on my husband's part. I could almost feel his turkey withdrawals. It wasn't that he didn't like what my Mom made. He was just used to something different.

This was a conflict that we weren't fully prepared for. Fortunately, after a few years it worked itself out, and both of us came to appreciate the other's upbringing when it came to Christmas. In fact, to my surprise, my husband came to adopt my loathing of turkey-roasting on December 25, and now that we celebrate Christmas on our own with our children, we too have an all-day Christmas buffet. We often compromise by having a turkey or ham dinner for New Years, a day that is far less laden with commotion and other things that would distract from the preparing of a fancy meal.

Believe it or not, an even bigger Christmas conflict beset us when we decorated our first Christmas tree. The problem: does the tinsel go on first, or last? Doesn't every reasonable person put the tinsel on first? To tell you the truth, I can't even remember which of us said "first" and which said "last." That's because after seven or so years of fighting and tears and one of us spending the night on the couch, we compromised by dispensing with tinsel altogether. (Besides, by then we had a cat that ate the tinsel and then coughed up silver tinsel balls until Valentine's Day.)

My point is that holiday conflict creeps up in the most unexpected and trivial places. And what may seem like a ridiculous practice to one spouse may be the difference between a holly jolly Christmas and spending Christmas in the doghouse. Or longer.

So couples, before you say "I Do," go out for a nice dinner together and use these questions to get your holiday conversations going:

* What was your best Christmas?

* Who usually cooks Christmas dinner in your house?

* Who did most of the Christmas shopping in your family?

* What is/was your favorite Christmas tradition?

* When do you open your Christmas gifts (i.e. Christmas Eve or Christmas Day)?

* Whose house do you usually spend Christmas at?

* Do you usually put up a Christmas tree? If so, when? (i.e. the day after Halloween? Christmas Eve? Somewhere in between?)

* Who put the star on the tree in your house?

These conversation-starters will help spark discussion between the two of you that may reveal some things you didn't know about each other's holiday experiences.

Better yet, find a pastor, church leader or counselor who has been trained in marriage preparation. He or she will be able to help you identify issues that are potentially contentious, including those surrounding holidays.

NEXT POST: Christmas...... With Kids. (Just wait till you start celebrating your holidays with a third person!)

Confessions of a Fat Girl

2008-10-06T20:37:00.000-07:00

Okay, you're probably looking at my picture on this blog and thinking "Fat? Yeah, right!" So maybe I look like I dine on veggie burgers more often than I dine on prime rib, but the truth is, I'm actually a fat girl on the inside.

Back up a few years to 2003. I weighed (gulp) 167 pounds and continuing to gain. I had, in fact, almost exceeded my all time weight high. While some of you are scornfully thinking that 167 pounds isn't so bad, you have to consider the package that it came in. If you're five feet nine inches tall, then 167 pounds isn't that bad. However, if, like me, you are four feet eleven inches tall, reaching 167 pounds would actually put you in the category of "obese" (believe it or not). I had been overweight for about 13 years at that point, having begun to gain weight after graduating from high school (that amounts to about 5 lbs. per year, give or take a few). Sometimes I jokingly blamed the weight on the three babies I carried, but deep down I knew I had been fat before I even got pregnant the first time.

People often like to analyze fat people, you know, try to determine why it is that they are fat. What drives a fat person to eat? Was she not loved enough as a child? Is she trying to fill some kind of an emotional need? Is there something missing in her life that she is trying to compensate for by over-eating? Ladies and gentleman, I am here to tell you that I am just not that complex a person. I ate because I REALLY liked food. That's it. I was not neglected or abused as a child. I had a great life, an adoring husband, wonderful children, a house, enough money, lots of friends, you name it. My problem was that I was addicted to food.

Maybe you can relate? And guess what... even though I lost over 40 pounds I unfortunately didn't lose my taste for food. Don't ask me how I did it... to this day I'm not sure how I managed to avoid the Doritos aisle for so long. And don't even get me started on Krispy Kreme donuts, a delicacy I still crave often (thank God the nearest Krispy Kreme is like 45 minutes away from my house or I'd probably have gained all 40 plus pounds back by now). Though I'm skinny on the outside (not Hollywood or runway model skinny, but healthy skinny) I'm still a fat girl on the inside. I know that I'm just a couple of cream puffs away from falling off the wagon, and though I've only gained back five of those pounds that I lost, I know it wouldn't take much to find my way back to obesity. Like alcohol or drug addiction, I know I will be a food addict for the rest of my life. Hello, my name is Jenny and I'm a food addict. I admit it. Do you know how hard it is to be a Pastor's wife when you're a food addict? Every Baptist gathering culminates in some sort of a food-eating ritual. We're synonymous with potlucks and other food-laden events. I can't even go to church on Sunday without walking by the pastry-strewn coffee bar in the lobby. The church is rife with temptation for the food addict, which might be unfortunate, but I don't think you can even be Baptist if you don't serve food at every event.

So, acknowledging my inner fat girl, I press onward, politely ignoring the strawberry tartlets, slices of apple pie, and fudge-covered brownies thrust in my direction. Don't be offended if I don't try your great-grandmother's famous prize-winning trifle. It's nothing personal.

(Reprinted from a previous blog.)

Pray for the Stauffers

2008-09-29T15:16:00.000-07:00

In the small town of Edson, Alberta, Canada 14-year old Emily Stauffer was murdered as she walked along a partially wooded pathway near a quiet residential neighborhood on September 27, 2008. The beautiful, flaxen haired girl didn't stand a chance against her much larger attacker, an unknown assailant believed to be in his early thirties.

Although the attack happened in the late afternoon in broad daylight, the assailant managed to escape and vanish completely. Two young boys happened upon the scene and reported that a man jumped from the bushes and grabbed Stauffer by the throat and began choking her. The terrified boys ran to a nearby home to seek help. The stunned neighbor at first had difficulty believing the boys' story. After all, the town of 8,000 people rarely experiences violent crime. But the neighbor quickly became convinced the boys were telling the truth because she could see them "vibrating" with fear.

To date, the attack appears completely random and unprovoked. It is believed that Emily Stauffer was taken by surprise and was very quickly subdued and overwhelmed by her attacker.

It's always difficult to make sense of a seemingly senseless tragedy such as this. It becomes harder when there is a personal connection. Although we did not know the family well, my husband and I have had the privilege of working with Emily Stauffer's parents on a number of occasions. Dad Terry is the Pastor of Edson Baptist Church, a small and close-knit body of believers. Terry and his wife, Juanita work within the same organization of churches, the Fellowship of Evangelical Baptist Churches of Canada, that my husband and I work with. Terry, Juanita and family have spent years as Fellowship ministers in various churches throughout Western Canada.

Our connection to the family came when the Stauffers worked in Barriere, B.C. just a short drive from the city of Kamploops where my husband pastored for four years. The Stauffers remain connected to many people in both the Barriere and Kamloops area even though they've been away from that particular post for several years now.

The Stauffers were closely tied to Sunnybrae Bible Camp in Tappen, B.C. just west of Salmon Arm. Both Terry and Juanita served in various positions, both professional and volunteer, within the camp for many years. In fact they continued to return to Sunnybrae summer after summer even after they left B.C. for Alberta.

It is with great sadness that I write this post, in memory of Emily Stauffer and in condolence to Terry, Juanita, and their three remaining children. This news has left many communities, churches, and an entire camp in a state of shock and grief. It is with bittersweet sadness and hope that we cling to our faith in a God who chose to call His beautiful little girl Home to be with Him despite her desire to grow up, get married, have children, and pursue a degree in music. Heaven is surely a much brighter place with her shining smile casting a reflection upon the golden streets.

It is my desire that all who read this will take just a minute right now to stop and pray for the Stauffer family.

Read more about the Emily Stauffer murder.
Read Terry Stauffer's blog, including a tribute to his daughter.

Opportunity in Death

2008-09-21T19:04:00.000-07:00

After 16 years in ministry, I think I'm only just beginning to come to understand the significance of funerals as evangelistic opportunities. Church boards, committees and ministry teams spend hours trying to come up with ways to get the unchurched and unsaved to darken the door of a church. We plan events, outreaches, dinners, musicals, kid's clubs, day camps and scores of other contrived (pardon me if that word sounds a little offensive. I hope that you'll come to see what I really mean as you read on.) Sometimes these things work, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they fail miserably to attract any crowd other than those same people who come every Sunday and come to every event simply because the church doors are open.

Yet, when people are faced with the death of a loved one, often the church is the first place they flock to. There's no cajoling or coaxing. There's no fanfare, no fancy catered dinner, no flashy program. There is simply the sudden realization that death raises questions that they cannot answer on their own. Granted, there are many who are hardened to the notion of a so-called "loving" God who would "allow" a loved one to pass away. But even they are often much more willing to listen to the plan of salvation even in the midst of misgivings and bitterness.

This year has been particularly filled with deaths of people within our own church family and extended church family. Some were prominent church members. Many were the result of tragic illnesses like cancer. One was a suicide. Others were relative unknowns to the congregation at large, but were extended family of regular church members.

Though the circumstances varied, one common denominator rang true for each one: unsaved people, some of whom had never attended church at all or hadn't considered religion in years began to reach out to clergy members for answers and a shred of hope amidst the pain and suffering. Many of these people may not ever have otherwise entered a church or questioned their own eternal destiny if not for reasons of death. It wasn't a carefully crafted and long-planned outreach event that drew them in. It was their desire to find the answer to the question of their own mortality or that of their loved ones.

Don't get me wrong. Outreaches are wonderful ways to reach out to the community. They are often successful and meet both the felt and the spiritual needs of a world in darkness. But how many times do we have opportunities to minister to large groups of seekers simply fall into our proverbial laps? Frequently, funerals make up the bulk of those unexpected and unplanned but highly effective opportunities to sow good seed in very fertile ground.

Jesus & Java

2008-09-14T14:23:00.000-07:00

I've entitled this blog "Church Coffee....." because, well.... I bet you know what I'm talking about. Church coffee has been the butt of many a joke throughout Christendom's years (at least since the invention of the coffee maker.) It's either so watered-down you can barely distinguish it from untreated tap water, or it's so strong that you need a jack hammer to drive your little plastic stir stick into it.

No offense to you faithful volunteers who get up early every Sunday morning to come in before the rooster crows to crank up the old community coffee brewer. I complained about church coffee myself until the first time I actually had to make some for a fundraising dinner. See, at home I use one tablespoon of fine grind for every eight ounces of water. I have always done this because that's what the instructions said on the first coffee pot I ever got after my husband and I were married. It turned out a bit on the strong side, but I quickly discovered that both me and my husband preferred it that way.

So when I was assigned coffee-making duties for this particular event, I simply followed the same directions I was used to at home. I converted my tablespoons into cups and poured in enough grounds for eighty eight-ounce cups of coffee. Just before I hit the "start" button I looked at the two pounds of grounds in the basket and thought to myself, "Hmmm, that seems like a LOT of coffee grounds." But then, who am I to question the instructions of Mr. Coffee, he of the original home coffee brewing appliances?

What I failed to realize is that industrial coffee makers are different from the home variety. It turns out that two pounds of coffee grinds was a little too much after all. Having been busy with preparations for the fundraiser, I hadn't actually had time to sample my own brew. But when people began to choke and gasp and drop their coffee cups, I started to suspect that perhaps something was amiss with my recipe. I sneaked off to the coffee table and poured a cup for myself and quickly discovered that brewing coffee at home and brewing coffee at church were two completely different culinary experiences.

After the first twenty or so cups had been dispensed, word must have gotten around because the coffee table wasn't touched for the rest of the evening. At the end of the night I briefly considered pouring the remainder into my gas tank, certain it was probably strong enough to get me home and just might be the next great thing in fuel innovations.

I don't criticize church coffee anymore. Though admittedly, I still poke fun at it like everyone else. It just wouldn't be Sunday morning (or Saturday night, or some other night of the week, depending on when your particular church meets) without good old church coffee. Let's face it, how else would we all manage to stay awake through the sermon........