Why Christian?

I've been trying to figure out how to talk about the Why Christian? conference I attended a few weeks ago without sharing every single detail, because the details matter less than the big picture. I chose to attend the conference because I had been greatly impacted by the writing of the hosts of the conference (Rachel Held Evans and Nadia Bolz-Weber), plus WX15 was in my backyard (aka Minneapolis), so it was logistically possible to attend.

Big picture: the Holy Spirit was moving in St. Mark's Cathedral. Every woman who stood before the crowd shared her story, shared her love for Jesus. To see strong, female leaders of such diversity was something I had never seen, and it was, quite simply, a thing of beauty. To hear from women of different denominations, different ethnicities, different sexual orientations, different lives all share the one thing they had in common was so powerful. It makes me think of Paul's words in Gal 2:28, "There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus."

So often in Christianity it feels like we are talking about how we're different. How we're different from the world, how we're different from those Christians over there who are doing it wrong, how we're not like THOSE people over there. It was so life-giving to celebrate our commonalities instead and have our differences fall to the wayside in light of truth of who Jesus is.

Jesus chose to inhabit a human body. He lived among regular, ordinary people. He was the recipient of judgment, scorn, and violence. And yet he loves us. His love is so much bigger than I can even dare to imagine. One of the most powerful moments of the weekend for me was receiving communion. At my churches we've always had a pass-the-plate or go-get-your-elements-and-then-take-it-to-your-seat-so-we-can-take-it-together sort of approach to communion. Taking communion at St. Mark's was different. I was looked in the eye and told that Jesus broke his body for me, that he shed his blood for me. For ME. It was intimate and personal in a way communion has never been for me, and so different from the shame and guilt that often leaves me not participating in communion at my own church.

I spent so much of day two (Saturday) in tears. Part of that was grieving the loss of my aunt who passed away that morning. Part of it was simply responding to the stirring in my soul. When redemption and grace showed up in the form of Amazing Grace played on the trombone, when I was told I am worth Christ's sacrifice, when my soul yearned for a kingdom where our pain and hurt will be no more and our sorrow is turned to joy, I couldn't help but weep. And let me be clear: I am not a public cryer. I think I've only cried in front of my therapist twice in the six and a half years we've worked together. It's really a testament that I felt safe enough even among strangers to let my heart flow through my eyes.

That weekend was the first time I'd ever heard gay, bi, and trans people share their stories in person from a place of wholeness. My whole life I have been told that first and foremost gay people are sinning. That's always what the emphasis was. At Why Christian? gender and sexual orientation were not the emphasis. Sure, people talked about them as they pertained to their own stories and the church in general, but the emphasis was love and passion for Jesus. How Jesus loves us as we are. How God created us and it was good. It was such a beautiful reminder to see the dignity in every human being, to call out and respect the Imago Dei in each of us. I felt so deeply in my soul the importance of loving others well, especially the people we don't understand, the people on the fringes, the people who are hurting. I felt the importance of loving myself, of recognizing God's love for me even when I feel my sin disqualifies me from being worthy of love.

Love God, love others. This is how I've been describing my faith lately. I just don't know about so many things, but I know that I believe in love. I truly believe that the love that was shown among the conference speakers and attendees was a sliver of a taste of what God's kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven will be like. It was such a sacred, moving, healing experience. I was reminded of why I choose to be a Christian even when I doubt, even when I face unspeakable loss, even when I am in the depths of despair and when my friends let me down. I cling to the hope of love like Christ showed, that he laid down his life for us. Love is powerful. That's what keeps me hanging on for dear life in the depths of my soul even when I feel like I'm drowning. It is an addicting, intoxicating love, and even when I can't feel it or even believe it fully, I have the hope that it's true.

I am so grateful for the stories shared, for the grace extended, for the unity displayed. I was changed at WX15 and so very encouraged. God is love, and love wins.

Everyone likes eggs, right?

When I was little, I thought that if you didn't go to my church, you weren't a Christian. I don't just mean people who didn't go to church at all; I literally thought that if you went to a different church you weren't going to heaven. I had no concept of denomination or global church or worship style preferences. My entire view of religion was starkly black and white. If I ever have kids, I'm going to explain denominational differences like eggs. Lots of people love eggs. They're so delicious and good for you. But people prefer their eggs cooked in different ways. Scrambled, hard boiled, sunny-side up, omelet. So it is with Christians. They all love Jesus, but he is so much bigger than we are, and people understand him in different ways. Some people love loud music and dancing, some people love silence and stillness. And just like eggs can be harmful if they're not cooked properly (no matter the preparation style), different churches can have harmful theology. It doesn't mean that they don't love Jesus. I follow lots of Christian bloggers online, and I see so much division and bickering. I do understand that people have strong opinions about how Christians are supposed to live their lives, but instead of judging someone else who is sincere in their faith, how about we start being more intentional about loving others and speaking kindness to one another? If all people see is bickering, judgment, and hurtful words , why would they want anything to do with God? It's so much more beneficial to focus on what we have in common instead of blowing up our differences.

Live for More

Last Sunday my church started a sermon series called Live for More. The first week was about volunteering, and they're encouraging people to interact via social media. Well, I decided that I have a whole lot to share, so I decided to write down some of my experiences (photos thrown in for good measure). You might want to grab some popcorn, because I am not a succinct storyteller.

I am something of a life-long church volunteer. I grew up attending church, and even as a kid I spent time volunteering.  When I was in college, I slacked off on church attendance quite a bit, but I had a lovely year when I volunteered for a Wednesday night kids' ministry (where at least twice I painted my hair as a reward for the team with the most points).

In my fourth year of college, I was diagnosed with major depression. Life was pretty awful for me for quite awhile. I had to leave school before I graduated, and I spent almost a year feeling pretty bitter towards God. The people who hurt me the most, who treated me like I was not worth much, were people who said they loved Jesus and made their lives about him, and it made everything feel confusing and painful. Towards the end of the summer of 2009 (the year after I left school), I realized how lonely I was. I had never really made friends outside of church or school, so I decided maybe it was time to give church a chance again. I had tried two different churches without finding the right fit when a friend recommended that I try Substance Church.

I remember how nervous I was that first Sunday. I had given myself a week to work up to it. I checked out the website, looked at a map to make sure I knew where to go and where the parking options were. Trying new things by myself when I know there will be a bunch of people is really hard for me. As I drove onto the Northwestern campus, I was greeted by the parking team. Oh, the parking team! At the other churches I had visited, I didn't know where to park or where to go once I got inside the building. At Substance, there were these crazy joyful people waving bright orange flags guiding me to a spot. When I parked my car, I sat for a moment fighting back tears. I hadn't even set foot in the church yet, and I knew there was a joy here that was unlike any church I'd attended before.

Substance has been my church home ever since that first Sunday. I spent my first few months attending lots of subgroups, trying to find friends even though all of the newness was so uncomfortable for me. In early 2010, I decided I was finally ready to volunteer. I was a little wary, but knowing that I wouldn't have to do it every week and that I could stop if I needed to, I took the plunge. Because of the impact my first visit had on me, I had no doubts that I wanted to join the parking team. I helped out on the last Sunday that Northwestern had only one service, and the next week when we jumped to two services, I began a three-and-half-year journey on the 1st service red team, part of that time as the team lead.

During the summer of 2010, I made a few connections during a volunteer party and found myself connected with someone who was running lighting. I started training for the media team, and for years I planned my schedule around the Sundays when I was either parking or running lighting (sometimes both in one day). I still run lighting regularly for Northwestern, The Well, and for other things like Deeper or Family Fun Night on occasion.

Being a volunteer has drastically changed my experience at Substance, and really my entire life. I feel such ownership; Substance is MY church. I know the staff, the pastors, the interns. I get up earlier on Sundays than I do for work on Mondays, and I'm OK with that. Best of all is the relationships I have made. The people volunteering with me are not just fellow volunteers or church members. They are my friends. They are people who have shown me grace when I have failed spectacularly. They are the people who encourage me when depression makes it seem like there is nothing good in the world. They pray for me when my faith is failing. In the past six months alone I have experienced support from so many of my friends when my car broke down, and they rejoiced with me like crazy when God provided a way to replace it.

Since my depression diagnosis in college, my life cycles through periods of normalcy and periods of bleakness. I think it can be hard for people without depression to understand how inaccessible God can seem when you're in the middle of a dark pit. My friends stick by me even when I'm doubting or angry. I am part of a community that wants health and wholeness but appreciates how complicated the journey to get there can be. I'm in one of those hard times now, and the late-night texts and conversations give me the strength to keep going. I find joy in putting aside the pain that I feel and serving others, even if only for a few hours a week. Volunteering keeps me connected with my friends, but also reminds me to look outside of myself, to try to keep perspective on the bigger picture of the Kingdom of God.

I think what happened at church this morning sums up how being a volunteer has made my life more than just going through the motions. I volunteered to park this morning, and when we were done, the four of us stayed backstage talking for the rest of the service. We talked about really deep things, shared parts of ourselves that we probably don't share with just anyone. And the only reason we even met each other was because of volunteering. Between services I went up to the media booth to say hi to my friends. I mentioned that I hadn't actually attended first service but wasn't sure I was going to stay for the second service, and someone joked about how me coming up to the media booth was church for me. It really is, in a way. In my time volunteering at Substance, I have made friends who make my life richer. These people value me, they assure me that they do not define me by my mistakes, and they appreciate having me be part of the team. The people at Substance aren't perfect, but they continue to show me a love that keeps me going even when everything else is telling me I shouldn't exist. There are days when I fully intend to show up, put in my time serving, and go home, but every single time I am reminded by the people around me that life is so much better when I engage and choose to live for more.

The View from the Booth

For over three years now I've been a volunteer on the media team at my church. My main area is lighting, but when it comes to The Well (our women's ministry), I do a little bit of everything. Tonight was our fall kickoff, and I was thinking about how differently I experience church in general when I'm in the booth.

Being a media volunteer is interesting in that there is both a deeper involvement with the service and a sort of detachment. I get to see the worship band sound check, I get to help set the mood for worship with lighting colors and visual backgrounds, and I get to join the worship team and leads for pre-service prayer. At the same time, during the actual service I am somewhat disengaged from actually worshipping because I am paying attention to changes in tempo, transitions between songs, and making sure that when the MC comes up there is appropriate lighting on stage. Tonight during the message I was helping my amazing VO operator be prepared to put the right slides up on the screen. I hear what's being said, but I don't always retain very much.

As a church volunteer and leader, I know that I can't always get filled up or fed spiritually during weekend services. I have to be intentional on my own time to focus on God, and it can be hard to make that happen when things are busy or I'm tired or I'm just feeling depressed. That's why it's really neat when I make connections in a different way.

Some of the most honest conversations I've ever had have been while I've been in the media booth. There's just something about being in a small, quiet room with just one or two other people that invites you to blurt out things you might not say otherwise. Sometimes it starts with a comment about the service, sometimes it's more intentional. Tonight one of my dear friends was working alongside me, and even though she wasn't feeling great, she stayed late after the service to sit and listen while I spilled what was going on in my life. She gave me the wonderful gift of just listening.

By the time we wrapped up our conversation, most of the people had left. I typically miss most of the after parties at The Well, and that's entirely on purpose. By the time I've been planning all week and then running the service, I'm pretty tapped out. Big crowds of people exhaust me, and I sort of hate meeting new people in general. When I finally emerge from the booth, I am able to spend a little bit of time with my friends who are still there to clean up and shut down the building. I like being useful and helping to tear things down and get the space cleaned up.

Sometimes I think about how nice it would be to get to join in the worship and not have to focus on anything but my experience with God, but mostly I'm thankful that I've found a way to engage in the church without constantly feeling uncomfortable or out of place. Most people probably have no idea what I'm doing, but I know that I'm useful. I like getting to be part of the action in a more hands-on way. And I'm really thankful for the amazing friendships I've found because of my willingness to sit in the back and work hard. There is a special joy in serving alongside people you love.

Learning to Embrace My Puzzle Piece

If you know me well, you know that I enjoy quite a few rather nerdy hobbies. I enjoy quiet, solitary things, and one of them is jigsaw puzzles. I'm sure I inherited this trait from my dad, who used to spend hours and hours on a huge puzzle in our basement.

Tonight at my small group we were talking about the Kingdom of God, and what that means in the here and now. We talked about how we are to let the Holy Spirit flow through us, and when we do that, God is reflected uniquely in each of us. We all play a part in the Kingdom of God, and no one is the same. It's like we're all puzzle pieces.

Have you ever put together a puzzle only to find out that the last piece is missing? It's incredibly frustrating. I once put together a 500 piece puzzle, but there was a problem. There were definitely 500 pieces, but two of them were the same.

When I got to the end of the puzzle, I had an empty space and an extra piece that was of no use to me. As I was thinking about our small group conversation, I realized how important it is not only to realize that we reflect God uniquely, but that we need to realize that we shouldn't try to be just like someone else. It's easy for me to wish I looked like that person or had a more fun personality like this person. But if I change who I am, I not only leave a hole where I was created to fit, but I could steal the spot of someone else. I need to remember to work in my own strength and let other people find their places.

Car Troubles and Answered Prayer

I'm not someone who has had lots of moments when I can say "That was an answered prayer." Maybe I'm just not very observant, or maybe I just don't pray for big things that only God can do. But last week, I totally had a prayer answered in a big way.

Tuesday night I was scheduled to run the lighting for Deeper, our Tuesday night service at church. It was insanely hot, so I was ready to sweat it out on the drive there and then sit in air conditioning for a few hours. As I was driving, my radio started to turn on and off, and I thought maybe it was so hot that it was affecting the electronics. Then I realized that my turn signals weren't working, and that's kind of a problem. I made it to the stop light that's one block from our building, and my car died. Nothing happened when I tried to turn the key.

I immediately called my friend Mia. I thought she might already be at the OC, but even if she wasn't, she's told me in the past that if I ever break down she has a big network of people. Mia and her dad Bob pulled up to my car, and we managed to use jumper cables to get my car going long enough to pull into the church parking lot. My car died again as I was coasting into the parking space.

When Mia asked me what I wanted to do next, I just said "I don't know." After an hour of sitting outside stuck with my car, I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I went inside to see if Andrea had been able to find someone else to run lighting. They had it covered, and Andrea and Josh said they'd help any way they could. Andrea suggested that she take me home and I get some sleep, waiting to deal with the problem until the next morning. I thought that sounded like a pretty good idea, so she drove me home.

After I got home, I let myself cry. I was super focused and fairly calm while everything was happening because I knew that getting upset in that moment wouldn't do any good. I knew that as long as I let my emotions out later that night that it was OK to stuff them down temporarily. I spent some time reading the passage in Matthew where Jesus talks about God providing for even the birds, and how much more valuable we are than the birds. I did my best to stay calm and just trust that God would provice, and then I posted on my church's Facebook group wall asking if anyone was able to help me get my car fixed. A few hours later, a guy I'd never met posted his contact info saying he might be able to help.

Wednesday afternoon I called Cory, and he seemed pretty confident that he'd be able to help. He's not a mechanic, but he knows a fair amount about cars. He said he could look at my car while I was at work on Thursday since he didn't have to work until Friday, and he even offered to come to my office to pick up the keys. I was able to leave a key for him Wednesday night, and Thursday I waited with anticipation to hear if he thought he'd be able to fix it. At about 4pm, I got a phone call saying my car was fixed and I was all set. Cory and his brother even drove my car to my office and dropped it off for me. My car had a new alternator and a new battery, and Cory didn't want me to pay for anything other than the cost of the parts.

I was so blessed that a stranger would go to such lengths to help me out. It made me a little sad thinking of all the people who are without a community like the one I have at Substance. I was pretty excited to tell everyone what an answer to prayer my fixed car was. I thought about how God answered my prayer by using a person with a skill who was willing to be used. I think sometimes people have the idea that you have to have an amazing spiritual gift to really bless someone, but I think sometimes it's the practical skills that can bless someone the most. Yes, I loved the friends who prayed for me, but it was a guy with some tools who came through in the end.

I wanted to write this post to share about my excitement for this blessing, but also to remind myself that God is faithful. Just last night I was on my way somewhere and the pipe to my muffler broke. After I walked to Target to buy a coat hanger to rig it so the pipe wouldn't drag on the group, I was on the ground getting dirty in the parking lot of Caribou when the other end of the pipe broke off. In that moment I was so frustrated, so stressed out, but I wanted to trust that God would take care of my needs. Once again I did my best to stay calm and deal with the situation at hand. I got in touch with an uncle of mine who's a mechanic, and I got the go-ahead to drive (it wouldn't damage my car, just be insanely loud). I'm thankful that I was able to drive to and from work today, and that I'll be able to drive to my apartment showings tomorrow. Yes, it's a little embarrassing to have such a ghetto-sounding car, but I just try to remember that it is OK that I don't have a plan. It's OK that I don't know when I'll be able to afford to fix the pipe or get a new, more reliable car. If God never changes, and his promises are true, then the promise he made to take care of me still applies.

When God Affirms Your Internal Call

Today has been a crazy series of events that led to a crazy God confirmation in my life. As I think about my day, it's so clear that none of it is coincidence.

I volunteer a lot at my church. I lead a parking team, which serves every third week, and I'm also a lighting volunteer every third week. Today was one of the days when I wasn't volunteering, and I decided to try something a little different. The campus where I usually attend had to switch locations for the late service, so I though I'd sleep in and visit the SLP campus, where I'd never been. I also thought it would be neat to check out the lighting booth, since SLP is the only campus at which I have not run lighting.

It felt a little funny to have the visitor jitters going to my own church, but everyone at SLP was so nice. The service was great, and a friend steered me in the direction of the staircase to the media booth (thanks, Dale!). Will and Josh gave the grand tour, and then they asked if I was attending the Intern Q & A tonight. I hadn't even known about the Q & A, but since I had no interest in being an intern, I declined. Without being obnoxiously pushy, Will and Josh both encouraged me to come anyway, because at least it was free food. I said I probably wouldn't, then headed home, but the idea stuck with me. I actually had two other friends tell me I should go, so I decided that if nothing else, I'd get to support my media intern friends.

The Q & A was about as I expected it to be. Honestly, as I listened, I knew that there was no way I was going to apply for an internship. Besides a bunch of logistical reasons, I knew my heart wasn't in the right place, and I definitely wouldn't want to waste time and resources and commit to something so big if I didn't mean it. I actually spent part of my afternoon rehearsing the bullet points of why I wasn't going to apply so that I wouldn't freeze in conversation when I was inevitably asked about applying. After the Q & A officially ended, I hung around and talked with a few people. I talked to Josh about why I wasn't applying, and then I talked to Tabi. While I talked to Tabi, I got to talk about all the things I love about where I'm at right now. I love being a part of my parking team. I love running the lighting. I've especially loved running the lighting for The Well (our women's ministry) the last few months, because I've really gotten to be creative and do things without a lot of restrictions.

I have had quite a few people tell me they think I should do X or that I'd be good at Z. And mostly I've found it frustrating because I feel like they're pushing me in a direction I'm not comfortable with. As I talked with Tabi and explained lots of the reasons about why I don't want to change what I'm doing now, she affirmed that there was a lot of wisdom in knowing myself well enough to say no to certain things. Having someone finally listen to the things I've been thinking about a lot over the past several months was such a relief. As I walked back to my car, I felt so light. I started to cry on my way home, because I felt like God was telling me that right now I am in a season of rest, restoration, and celebration and that it's OK to not take on anything else right now. I also felt, for the first time, like maybe it's OK that other people see something in me that I don't, because that's something that will happen in the future. I'm even a little excited at the thought that maybe down the line God has something big for me, whereas before I'd just feel scared and anxious. I think God affirmed that for now, I'm correct with my internal call of supporting those around me and serving as I have been, but the external call I've been getting from others isn't wrong, either. It's just not now. I have felt such tension over the difference between what I feel I'm called to do (internal call), and what others have been telling me they think I should do (external call). Pastor Peter even preached about internal and external calling this morning.

I want to remember today. I want to remember how I drove home and felt like God was telling me that He knows I've been through a lot, and it's OK to enjoy a time of peace and stability. I want to remember how I felt something stir within me at the idea of serving on a larger scale, even though I knew I'm not at the point yet. I want to remember how people encouraged me, told me things that made me feel valued and loved. And I want to remember how blessed I am to have such wonderful friends and a wonderful church. Three and a half years ago I was in a hospital because I was suicidal. Now I can't believe (in a good way) that this is my life. Today is a day to remember God's faithfulness. I'm so thankful.

Search and Replace

When I think of search and replace, I think of The Office. There's an episode where Michael is out of the office and everyone else is reading through a script that Michael wrote. The main sidekick's name was originally Dwight, but Michael changed it. Unfortunately, search and replace only replaces words spelled correctly.

I bring this up because I think fasting is a little bit like search and replace. My church is getting ready to be a part of a 21 day fast, and I've overheard lots of people talking about what they're going to fast. Some people are going to skip a certain kind of food (like coffee or sweets), some will fast a meal or two, some will fast some sort of media (like Facebook). What I haven't heard people talking about as much is how they plan to use that time.

I've always understood fasting to be about eliminating something and using the time you would have spent on that in prayer and meditation or Bible reading. If I stop eating for three weeks, but spend zero time praying or reading my Bible, then I don't think that really counts in terms a spiritual fast. This is the part that's most difficult for me when it comes to fasting. It's certainly not easy to choose to skip meals, but it's even harder for me to deliberately set aside that time instead of having it run into all my other time. It's much easier to skip breakfast and sleep in for an extra 10 minutes. I'm also the type of person who is usually doing something while I eat, so I don't even have time set aside for that on its own on an ordinary day.

I wonder if fasting isn't so much about giving something up as it is making time to focus on God. I think removing something can help create that space, but it's only part of the equation. It will be interesting to see how the next several weeks play out, both in my life and at church.

Seeing the Parade Differently

Every now and then I have a moment when I see the world a little differently. This happened to me tonight.

One of the cities my church has a campus in had a parade tonight, and I walked with a bunch of other people in the parade. We had a truck pulling one of our trailers, a banner, and we all wore gray (grey? I can never remember.) t-shirts. We had candy buckets, and we walked along a 2-mile parade route passing out candy and waving.

Overall, it was tons of fun. I met people from Substance I didn't know before, and the kids were a lot of fun to watch. But there were a few moments that made me want to cry. Walking in the middle of the street, looking down at the lines of people stretching into the distance, I thought of this blog post on Stuff Christians Like. I started to wish I cold walk up to every person there and tell them, very sincerely, "Do you know how much God loves you?" I kept thinking, "That little girl is God's favorite. That older gentleman is God's favorite. God sure does love that dad over there." For a few moments I got a taste of how much God loves those people, how much he wants them to come to Him.

After the parade we met back together for a bit. As people drifted away, I went and sat in my car. And I cried. Sometimes when I have those moments of seeing the world differently, I push it aside because it hurts too much; it's too big of a feeling. But tonight I just let my heart break for Fridley the way God's heart longs for those people. I may not have had words to pray, but I was praying for them just the same.