Proud Poppa

I haven't ever heard the audible voice of God.  I don't get goose bumps, I don't shake and I don't get slain in the Spirit.  I haven't had a conversation with an angel and I haven't had deep of convys with God like Abraham or Moses  but I do know that God and I have some cool conversations.  I can be praying in the Spirit, praising Him, driving a car or a forklift or just be chilling at home when Holy Spirit starts up.  Usually, He leads me in specific prayers for others or just overwhelms me with His Peace and Joy.  All of which is pretty cool.

But what is really, really cool during our 'conversations' is when God brags about His kids to me. I can be driving and I will feel my heart swell with pride as Holy Spirit places someone on my heart and mind. I am so deeply impressed with how strong their Faith is and how they have committed themselves to fighting the good fight. During these times of intimacy with my Lord, I really get the sense that God is such a proud Poppa and so much in love with these people that He can't contain it. He just wants to brag on His kids. It leaves me speechless at the thought of how the Creator of all Life takes the time declare His approval of others.  I mean, God has a lot going on and yet He still takes the time to brag about His kids.  He has bragged about my wife, buds that I have known for years, coworkers and facebook friends from all over the nation. He has exhorted their Faith and perseverance, celebrated their loyalty to Him and His Word and God has humbled me by boasting about how much Joy these people have given Him.  It is amazing to listen to God hyping up His little ones as any other proud parent does.  It is  a really cool privilege to hear God give honor to those who have honored Him with their Faith. 

See how very much our Father loves us, for he calls us his children, and that is what we are! But the people who belong to this world don’t recognize that we are God’s children because they don’t know him.

1 John 3.1

Adam Knew Eve and They Had . . .

Genesis 4:1 Now Adam knew Eve his wife, and she conceived and bore Cain.

The word "knew" is the Hebrew YADA. In this instance it means sex.

Deuteronomy 9:24 You have been rebellious against the LORD from the day that I knew you.

In this verse it means that the Lord "knew" who the stiff-necked Israelites were. In both cases it implies intimacy, both a physical and emotional "knowing." It is this same intimacy that God desires to have with us, to fully know us and walk with us "in the cool of the day."

This week your Kingdom Bloggers are going to write about intimacy with Jesus. It is always interesting to see what tack each one of us takes to describe the topic as it applies to our own lives.

I have had many personal, warm and fuzzy moments with my Lord. It is hard to describe a time when I felt fully known, and also felt close to God. Many times I have set out to draw near to God, only to have another semi-religious experience. With all the years of study, and Christian practice, I can only say that my intimate moments are sovereign. I can't seem to force them, set them up, or get my self in the right posture to have something happen.

On the other hand, I can set my self up to receive from God - or at least increase the odds by doing the basics: prayer, study, worship and alone time. Intimacy, like any relationship, must be cultivated. For those that are married, especially the men, you know how you can't put relationships on auto-pilot for to long. Parents can't do it either. We need to invest real emotional and spiritual currency to be intimate with our kids and spouses.

I have experienced many miracles over the years, as well as been witness to thousands of accurate prophecies, and healings of every type. For me, witnessing these "gracelets" of God's power builds my faith, but it doesn't make me closer to God. What makes me closer to God is knowing Him, and hearing His voice.

Intimacy isn't always a spiritual high either - some days it a walk through the valley of death.

One of the most intimate times in my Christian journey, one where I felt a connected to God, and not only enjoyed His presence, but felt His comfort and peace in a supernatural, way was in 2001; a time most of the world wasn't thinking about what would happen in the US on 9/11. I know I was one of them. I was busy helping friends establish home-groups and churches where they lived. I had taken a year off after my divorce, but I was slowly getting things going again.

I was scheduled to be in Cincinnati area to meet with friends. It was an amazing time. I was praying about going out, and received a check in the mail for exactly, to the penny, what I need for the airline ticket—after a tithe.

One morning while I was working, about a month before I was to leave, I got a call from my mother. She had bad news to share; pancreatic cancer in the last stage. As with my father (MORE) only a few years before, I began to pray. I began to seek the Lord on how to pray, what to pray for and what I should do.

A few weeks later, I went to Cinci and borrowed my friend’s car in order to make the trek up to Ft. Wayne and visit my mother. We had a nice time, talked about real issues, and had a simple lunch together in her home. As I hugged her before I left, I knew that she, like my father wasn't going to make it. Oh, we had some time, but the cancer was going to kill her. No matter how I tried to summon faith for healing (how I wanted her to live and not die), and take captive the thought that I was going to lose her, I just knew it was going to be over.

On the drive back to Ohio, I just cried out, what should I do Lord? Peering out at the horizon; over miles of corn fields, I heard the still small voice say, "Call her everyday." And so I did. Each morning between 8:45 and 9:00 I called, usually on my way to work. I would end every call with, "I love you." and hang up as I walked down the hall to my office. In the beginning it was easy. She was still getting around, she was even working a little, going to concerts, and taking short trips. As time went on, she got sicker and sicker.

One morning I called and my step-father said that she was asleep. About an hour later, sick from the chemo, she called me to say that she was sorry that she missed our call that morning. She told Gene to make sure to wake her whenever I called. She never missed one after that.

I visited her four times during those final months. I would usually stay for four or five days. Each morning at 8:45, she would ask everyone to leave the room. "So how are you today, David?" she would say, knowing that I was in her house the whole time. At 9 o'clock, after I kissed her on the forehead and told her that I loved her, she'd have me open the door. I had no idea how important those calls were to her or me until my last visit.

It was a few days after 9/11, and there were no planes, so I drove with my brother and my two daughters to Ft. Wayne from Cape Cod; 17 hours each way. We arrived and mom was in her guestroom, the one with all but one of the stained glass windows I had made for her over the years. One morning, close to the end, my girls and I went into the room. I stood on one side of the bed, opposite the door, and the girls stood on the other. I asked her if I could pray for her, and she of course said yes. The girls and I laid hands on her. As we prayed the presence of the Lord grew and grew. Erin said, “Grandma is hot!” Zöe nodded her head in agreement. We kept praying and she began to glow. She was lit up like a lamp as the presence of God came into the room. Erin said, “Grandma is hot, really hot!” She almost shouted.

The Hospice nurse came into the room and fell to the floor near my mother’s feet. She couldn't stand in His presence. My brother and step-father felt the presence at the door to the room. The glory of the Lord was there in a powerful way. My mother’s frail body shone like a lamp. This went on for a few minutes and finally subsided.

After we were done praying, my mother called us close to her face. She said to me, “I am ready for glory.” We had a wonderful conversation where she told the girls that she so wished that she could have had more time with them.

We drove back to Massachusetts and two days later she died. She couldn't take my last phone call. But I told her that loved her and she made a quiet grunting sound. She died the next day.

I spoke to my brother and asked him what her last words were. "Tell David, that I love him and thanks for calling everyday."

It is in times like this, that intimacy is built on daily contact. Each day filling our love account, so when it comes time to make a withdrawal, there is more than enough to go around. During this time I was close to God, and close to my mother. I would pray each day for her comfort, knowing that my Father was taking perfect care of her. He surrounded me with family, a few friends and my eventual wife to be, Mary Anne - and most of all, He surrounded my with His perfect peace, His promise, and His love.

Some sweet day I'll sing up there the song of victory...

How can something so small cause so much trouble?

My post is very personal today. It's a victory post. A shout of appreciate to our loving God above. I have so much to be thankful for overall in my life, and my daily prayers most always start with that acknowledgment. I'm blessed with a wonderful family, loving friends, an awesome church, a great job and most importantly the peace that only a life in Christ can bring. A close personal relationship that gives me the opportunity to talk to the God above all. But this Sunday...well that date is very special to me, and today I'm especially thankful to my Lord.

It was 6 years ago this Sunday I heard the words that I wish no one ever had to hear...despite the awesome feeling of joy and relief the words bring when you do hear them. Words that bring feelings so turbulent, it often takes days, even weeks, to sink into your consciousness. It was February 7, 2004 when I heard the words coming from my doctor...you're cancer free.

My battle with hairy-cell leukemia was intense and short lived. I was lucky, and I'm grateful to God that my family didn't have to endure a long, drawn out battle watching me slowly go to my Creator. I was prepared if it did happen and knew spiritually and emotionally I could weather well, but how would everyone around me do? I had made my peace with all the thinks going on in my life at that time. I didn't know what the future held for me here in this life, but I had the security of knowing no matter what, even in the worst case scenario, God would be with me every step of the way.

People treat you different when they know you are sick. That's why I chose not to tell anyone about my cancer until I knew what I was up against, and by that time, the battle was (for the most part) over. I had other lingering problems, but none that were fatal in consequence like my battle against cancer. There's a psychological struggle that goes on well after the cancer is gone, but nothing like the isolation and helplessness that happens while you wage the fight to get better. No, I didn't suddenly feel like running a marathon on that February day six years ago, but the relief of knowing that I didn't have to tell my future wife, my daughter and the rest of my family that I might be dying soon...all I can say is praise God! Thank you Lord!

I went through some pretty tough times of a different nature in the following two years, but I know in my heart that God let me live for a reason. His reason. I prayed and gave my problems to God on a Sunday morning in December 2003 at an altar surrounded by people who had absolutely no idea what I was going through. My prayer that day was really quite simple...

Thank you Father for all you've done in my life. I ask forgiveness for my many shortcomings and where I have failed You. If it is Your will that I pass from this life soon, I vow to serve You with every breathe You give me until that day. If it is Your will to heal me and see me through other problems that are a result of my own creation, I also vow to serve You with every breathe You allow me until I'm called Home...

I know today the victory didn't come the following February or even a few years down the road when it was all well behind me...no...the victory came the moment I got up from my knees, free of all burdens because of a loving, caring God. My prayer today is that He will some day look at me with a smile and satisfaction that I honored my vow back then and served Him with my life. He loves me, He cares for me, He watches over me...just as he does you.

I will never truly be cancer free, but that's okay. I hope God let's me grow old with my beautiful, loving wife. I hope He lets me watch both my girls graduate college and some day marry (in that order girls!). I hope God lets me hold my grandchildren. But today, I just praise God and thank Him for the victory.

1 John 5:3-5 (NIV)

This is love for God: to obey his commands. And his commands are not burdensome, for everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith. Who is it that overcomes the world? Only he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God.

From Victim to Victor

Victory has not been defined by what I have experienced in my own walk but, even more amazing than mine, I have been privileged enough to see the transforming power of Jesus take men and women from victim to victorious....It never ceases to amaze me , the awesomeness of God !!!

''One" of my ministries is a dance team..It is called On Eagles Wings...Isaiah 40:31...I have been ministering through dance off and on now for almost 10 years..It has been a ministry that has never lost its power, there is something unfathomable that happens when you enter the throne room by way of intimate worship...One word!!! V.I.C.T.O.R.Y...I have seen deliverance from depression and anxiety..I have seen many victories in the area of forgiveness and miraculous restorations of relationships take place.

I have also experienced many victories in my walk with the Lord..I have often made reference to my salvation experience because of it being the first time in my life I had ever felt triumphant, I had a glimpse at hope...At that moment in my life I had understood (finally) freedom..That freedom has sent me on a journey of one victory after another, I never look at one being greater or bigger than another..There all stepping stones after all our greatest victory will be when we are standing face to face with our beautiful Savior..I am excited that my mess has become my message...I have not a single regret, my past and its ugliness has shaped me into the sold out, radical Jesus lover that I am today...That is a victory I wouldn't change for any thing this world has to offer me...I love Jesus!!!!

Forever, Victory is Mine

But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

1 Corinthians 15.57

For years my walk with Jesus resembled riding roller coasters. And roller coasters were never my thing. Ups and downs, anticipation, fears, regrets, excitement, worries, thrills and no sense of control.  It seemed as if I was just going along for the ride.  Sure, I had buds that were on the same ride, sometimes.  I don't blame them for getting off, if I got sick and tired of the same ride, same 'adventure', imagine how these dudes felt as I didn't get outta my seat at the end of a ride and complained "Here we go....again.....and again."
Looking back, I can see now where it was Holy Spirit in me that kept me from quitting my Faith altogether.  Even after I told my closest buds and God that I quit.  He kept drawing me back to Him and I know it was because of the prayers of many that kept my heart from becoming bitter and cold.
I got outta the church scene after going through After listening to all sorts of different 'doctrines' and points of view about the Trinity, Salvation, Gifts of the Spirit.....I just needed to figure what my own 'doctrine' was.  If that makes sense?

I dusted off my concordance, after putting down the remote and began digging into the Word. Man, it was cool the way His Word opened up!  Verses that had question marks next to them now had 'answers' written in the margins. All of sudden, (compared to the years on the roller coaster) verses in different books in the Bible were meshing together, creating greater understanding of  the differences between Righteousness and Sanctification   I was amazed at the simplicity of Righteousness and how it wasn't anything like what I had made it out to be or what I was trying earn.  I understood that the Work of God was completed in my life.

Now, when I aint obedient or when come up short, I aint put through an emotional wringer or get worked over by the enemy, others or myself. No matter how bad the situation, argument or failure, I can always go back to the simple fact that I am saved, that I am victorious. 10 days from now, 10 years from now, 100 years from now and 10,000 years from now, I am saved.

I definitely understand that I will stand before Him on the Day and be responsible for every word and action.  I aint saying that just cuz I'm saved my Faith is complete.  Contrarily, its because of what Jesus did for me  compels me to live for Him and do my best to serve others.

I am confidant in the work He did for every single person and the work He did in me.  It is Christ's Victory and He just didn't share it with me, He gave it to me.  It is mine, and I can't lose it , give away it and it can't be stolen from me. 
Forever, Victory is Mine

because of the truth which abides in us and will be with us forever

1 John 2

Stomp!

If you’ve lived in the world of charismania for very long you’ve sung a bunch of songs about the devil. When I was a little girl, I learned that:

 The devil is a sly ol’ fox, if I could catch him I’d put him in a box,

I’d take the box and throw away the key for ol’ those tricks he’s played on me.

This was followed by hand clapping to a rousing chorus of:

I’m so glad I’ve been converted (3x just in case the first didn’t take) I’m trusting in the Lord.

I guess they are still teaching this meaningful song to children. You really should check out this little boy singing it. He hasn’t been converted though, he got salvation. See it here, it’s adorable.

I suppose this song is supposed to build up ones faith just like the more adult versions such as:

I went to the enemy’s camp and took back what he stole from me. He’s under my feet.

I tell you I’ve gotten quite moved by that song a few times as I put the devil under my feet with excited jumping and stomping. If you watch this video, you’ll see quite a few people very excited to put the enemy under their feet. You’d think with all of this, the devil would never show up again.

Or how about this one if you are a little bit older:

Victory is mine, victory is mine, victory today is mine. I told Satan to get thee behind. Victory today is mine.

It seems Satan likes that King James English too and the use of the word thee.

If you are singing along with me, some of you are no doubt shouting by now. We could have a Holy Ghost breakdown if we tried. A few strong exhortations with some hallelujahs would have our faith exploding. We’d be ready to whip that sly ol’ fox’s butt. If only it were that easy.

Several years ago, I was a camp counselor. Of course, they told me that there was some unwritten rule that you had to be under the age of 30, preferable under the age of 25 to be a camp counselor. However, one of my daughters begged me. The old mother  went to camp, slept on a cot, took showers in cold water in the centralize bathroom outside our cabin, dealt with little prima donnas who would have preferred a cool college age counselor, and almost got saved all over again. After all everyone gets saved during church camp. Every day in chapel we’d sing another catchy song about the devil and spiritual warfare.

I don’t think the song ever caught on like the sly ol’ fox one or stomping the devil under our feet. So you probably don’t know it nor has any one put it on youtube. That year at camp though, it was our theme song.  With extreme enthusiasm, we asked God to take us to the front lines of the battle – where the Lord is marching on.

God answered that prayer for me. If you’ve been in the frontline of a spiritual battle you realize this wasn’t exactly what you bargained for…All that stompin and excitement can give way to exhaustion and lack of faith.  After months of frontline detail, I found myself severely battle fatigued.

One day when the spiritual fatigue was particularly bad, I thought about that camp song. I remember clearly that I was engaged in a great spiritual activity, I was changing the sheets on the bed. As I walked around the bed several times, tucking and tugging and straightening, I said out loud with more enthusiasm than I had at camp:

God, you know how I sang that song about going to the frontline. I don’t want to go to the frontline anymore, I take it all back. This was followed by my ranting about how stupid that song was, that they should never have taught me that song and work me up into a spiritual fervor to declare such a thing.

This went on for a while. Then I thought about how driven I am to excel, to be the best. I thought about how people tell you, this is a spiritual test. I always thought I should be in the spiritual AP or honors class.  I was strong, and ready to face all the challenges. After all, I’d been putting that sly ol’ fox in a box since I was about two years old. That day I asked God to put me in the remedial class. I said no more AP or honors classes for me. I just want to pass with the ordinary class--No more of this frontlines business for me!

Okay, so you thought this week we were supposed to talk about victory. Doesn’t this sound a bit like defeat? I should have known I had power because I had sung “We’ve Got the Power” and “Faith is the Victory.” (Thought I’d throw another song or two in there to pump us up a bit so we don’t get too deflated.)

This is about victory. This is about realizing your own limitations and that you can’t fight alone.  I fought on then and I am still fighting on. I didn’t give up, God didn’t answer my prayer and send me to the remedial class. God gave me more strength to fight another day.

Several years later, I saw Lord of the Rings. As I watched Aragorn at the Black Gate, ready to go into battle, my spirit leaped with excitement. This time it was a more realistic excitement than stompin the devil under my feet.  For I now understood what it was like to rise up out of my own weariness, weakness, defeat and fear to fight on another day.

I need to hear this often – maybe you do too.

Sons of Gondor! Of Rohan! My brothers. I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down, but it is not this day! This day we fight!
By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!

Therefore, put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Ephesians 6:13

Completely Overhauled - Victory in Jesus

In one of those seasons of life, the kind where you have pressed in, stayed faithful and expected a lot from God; where you have not seen things change in the natural, that's where I found a series of miracles. I don't simply mean the coincidental kind of miracles, but the kind that you are totally awed by God. This is the kind of stuff that you tell a stranger on the street because you can't contain it. Let me explain.

This week your Kingdom Bloggers are going to write about a personal victory. Every Christian needs to get a hold of Jesus and let him work in their lives to do the very things that they cannot do for themselves. Here is my story - a victory over addiction to cigarettes - along with an added touch or two from the Lord. The following was once posted on my personal blog Fire & Grace, and will eventually be in the pages of my book.

I was told by a pastor to stop reading books by Kenneth Hagin Sr; I didn't. Those books, bad theology or good, really built my faith. I was later told by another pastor and friend, to read books about revival. He lent them to me and as I returned them, he gave me more. In between books, I was on my own.

One day I went to the mailbox. I honestly don't remember now if it was something that I did everyday or just from time-to-time. Because the mailbox wasn't right in front of the house, we often stopped at it when we were returning from work or some other errand; pulling up and rolling down the window. This particular day there was an over-sized postcard from Marilyn Hickey Ministries. It said something about saving the family and I dismissed it; tossing it into the the abyss of coffee cups and empty cigarette packs on the floor of my pickup truck. I didn't give it a second thought.

I don't remember how much time had passed, but one day I hit the brakes hard and my Bible slid from the front seat onto the floor. When I picked it up, the "Save the Family Encounter" postcard was stuck to the Bible. My name and address was handwritten in the address block. Now, that's something that caught my attention. I was thinking about who might have personally sent this to me and how many thousand others? Who would have had my name?

As I was pondering those thoughts, I heard the Lord say, "you need to go."

Having the strong sense that I should go, deepened my interest. I read it in more detail. It was about 80 or 90 miles from my house, it was during the work week, and I had little kids that would need babysitting. And I wasn't going alone to some Family Encounter. I was discouraged before I drove the 50 yards back to my driveway.

The postcard kept haunting me. I had stuffed it in my Bible and took it out at church the next Sunday. I asked someone that I knew if she had ever heard of this Marilyn Hickey? Oh, she's got a TV show on at 6 am. She rolled her eyes and said, "she's no Baptist." There were a number of us undercover Charismatics there at that church. I think she was one of them. Actually that place more like a scene from the movie, The Brother From Another Planet.

Now I was more interested then ever. I knew I was supposed to go, I just didn't see how. Getting there was going to be a challenge I was sure. Finally, I just walked over to the head of the deacon's board and asked him, "can someone watch my kids on Thursday night from 5 PM until 10 PM, all day Friday from 9 AM until 10 PM and the same on Saturday?"

He replied with a gulp, "That's what we're here for." I will tell my wife. I am sure we can do the evenings at our house and I will round up someone for the daytime meetings.

Next the owner of the studio where I worked was at church that same morning. We had an agreement that we wouldn't talk business at church, but I am not too much for rules. Besides, I was on a roll. "Bill," I said, "I am going to need next Friday and Saturday off." I saw that look come over him.

"For what?" He asked.

"I want to go to this Christian conference," and I pulled out the postcard to show him.

"I guess it will be alright as long as everything is done before you go." he said.

Next I had to ask my wife (not Mary Anne!). She had no idea what I was up to. I had learned a long time ago that there isn't really a way to approach people with things that they are not going to like. So, I simply pulled out the postcard and said, "What do you think about us going to this?"

"It will cost too much." she said.

"It's free," I quietly replied.

"You can't take time off from work." She said escalating her tone.

"Bill already said it was OK. I just asked him" I said.

"We don't have anyone to watch the girls." she fired back.

The deacons are going to pool their resources and do it," I said.

"Why can't we just go to church here?" she said, trying to change the subject.

"Because God said we should go," I said.

"Yeah right." She firmly replied.

"Everything is all set, I would like to go," I said.

"I guess we could go to one meeting." - a softening tone.

It's a conference, we should go to all the meetings," I said.

"I'll let you know." she snapped, and turned to walk away.

"Whatever," I said, nearly defeated.

The next Thursday I dropped the kids off and we headed for the first meeting. We enjoyed wonderful worship and some good word-of-faith teaching; enough for us to commit to the next days meetings. During the morning meeting someone felt led to buy us the workbook for $50, which we received with joy. We met people that felt impressed to share the miracle that God was about to do. Honestly I didn't have a clue. I just knew I was supposed to be there.

The last meeting on Saturday was called the Miracle Service. If nothing else happened, we were full from simply being there. The worship team was playing Are God Is an Awesome God. My knees were shaking in the presence of God. I had never experienced such awe, such power or felt such a reverence for God like this. King Jesus was in the house!

Marilyn started the meeting by asking if there was anyone that had been delivered from alcoholism or other addictions. I stood up. I was sober 14 or 15 years at that time. Then we sat. She said, "if you need to break the addiction to cigarettes, then stand up and claim your miracle." She walked between those standing and proclaimed victory over them. When she walked by me I heard a voice, which wasn't hers. It said, "You'll never have to smoke again." It was audible to me, but no one around me acknowledged hearing it. I have since come to know the internal audible voice of God. I had been smoking 2 to 3 packs of Marlboros a day for 20 years, and I have never had a cigarette since. Not one! I actually quit smoking in a house with another smoker.

Next she asked anyone with eye problems to stand up. I had worn glasses since I was in second grade, having a fairly typical astigmatism and some farsightedness. I stood up and she talked about faith for a minute or so. Then she said if you are healed keep standing. Feeling nothing, I sat down. She handed a Bible to an elderly man a few rows away and said, "Can you read it?"

He replied "No, things are actually worse." She pulled the thick glasses from his face, "How is that she asked?" He began to read John 3:16. People clapped as she went around getting testimonies. I bowed my head and closed my eyes and said, "God, I want that." I took off my glasses that night and have never had a problem with an astigmatism since!

I was on a roll. The next call was for ears that needed to be healed. I had played electric guitar on "10" for many years, and it had taken it's toll. I had persistent ringing and some other nerve damage that made it almost impossible to hear in a room where there was any sort of noise. I stood there and she said very little. She began to ask people to stay standing that were healed. She began to whisper and I heard it! It wasn't until the next morning when I heard the kids bare feet sticking to the hardwood floors that I realized how much hearing had been restored!

The meeting ended with anyone that had been healed standing. "Look around you," Marilyn said. "This is Jesus at work!" Then she preached the gospel for just a few minutes. "If you want Jesus to be your Lord and Savior, stand up." The room was full of new converts!

Our God is an awesome God!

I'll bet that never happened to John Denver...

I hate to do back-to-back post about our church's Praise Team, but I've seen a couple of hilarious moments happen in my time on the drums...and well, humor's our subject matter this week.

There's not enough good things I can say about Jamey, our Music Leader. The story I posted last week speaks to the genuine heart this man has when it comes to God. He has been a mentor and friend, and it flows easy when he gets a man hug and 'I love you' from yours truly (not an easy thing for me either, see Tony C Today).

He's one of the most musically gifted people I know or have known. All our music and vocal arrangements are composed by him, and he is the rock of the team...the go-to guy. He can play a song on the piano, bass guitar or drums and never look at sheet music. Harmony comes natural as he listens to 8 different singers to make adjustments. Never forgets a song or score. I'm not just building this up people...he's that good.

He's also a chronic perfectionist...a point of intimidation for everyone else...well...except maybe his wife who sings on the team too.

Don't get me wrong. He doesn't try to be intimidating or heavy-handed, he's just so darn good it's hard to live up to that standard. A very humble man despite his gift. If things start to break down during a song, all eyes go to him. Personally, mine are there most of the time anyway, since we've developed a nonverbal system of communication to cue breaks, builds, patterns and other things I'm forever forgetting during a song.

One Sunday, we prepared to open the service with a particularly spirited song by none other than Chris Tomlin. Again, you ask? I'm convinced our Praise Team leader has a man-crush...but that's another post. Anyway, we're kicking the service off, and there's a pretty good crowd of 230 or so already in the sanctuary. I look at everyone to make sure they're ready, and start the count off. 1...2...3...4...nothing. Nobody starts. No drums, keyboard, guitars or vocals.

Everyone looks at Jamey (including me), he nods, and I count again. 1...2...3...4...nothing. Again.

By this time, the congregation (who had been asked to stand and join in) know something just can't be right. Every one's in place, words on wall, so why aren't we praising? The next few seconds seemed like at least an hour for me. Do I count off a third time? Is Jamey's keyboard or maybe his monitor not working? I was lost along with everyone else on the team of four musicians and eight singers.

Jamey sits with his back to the congregation off to the left side and only a few feet from me. I had never seen the look on his face at that moment before and couldn't figure out what in the world was happening...I just knew that every one in the congregation was looking at me. Finally the silence was broken.

"I've got nothing," Jamey half-whispered into his microphone. We had played this song dozens of times. It was a staple, a fallback song in a pinch....but he had brain-locked in a major way. He looked at me as I looked at him...frozen...helpless. I tried to squeak out a few notes, but my state of panic and complete lack of singing ability did nothing to kick start the process.

"I'm sorry, I've got nothing here." (cricket noises)

After an excruciating period of time and a few bars from the Team Leader, we were finally off and running. All of us in complete terror at where the train was going...but off and running none the less. Jamey's impeccable reputation as a musical genius was, of course, completely unblemished by the whole fiasco, but he took a serious ribbing none the less. I probably mess up a number of times on any given song each and every Sunday, and I'm not alone...but never Jamey. His one goof was out there for everyone to see and hear...or not hear in this particular situation.

He's still my musical hero and mentor and has taught me more about honest, open worship in my role as a musician than I could have imagined. Hey Jamey...I love you man!

Things To Do In Church Besides Fall Asleep

I gotta admit, I struggle to sit through church service.  I love the worship but I despise how the flow of Holy Spirit is interrupted by announcements and the beggars bucket, errr, tithes and offering basket. I have heard some really great teachings, sermons, messages....  There have been a few times in which the Words preached convicted me and I ended up confessing a 'forgotten' sin or dozen.  But it is still tough for me to sit still for 30+ minutes in a stiff chair looking at the back of someone's head.  But amazingly in the past, I have easily fallen asleep in the same type of uncomfortable chair.

There have been several times that I have fallen asleep at church.  And there have been several different ways I have been woken up:

• With a hand full of drool
• After my head jerked back
• With ink on my face. ( I think it was one of my kids)
• After a stranger tells me that I had been snoring.
• After the congregation was dismissed.

In order to not repeat the embarrassment of similar situations as listed above, I have discovered a couple of things to do to keep my mind active and my eyes open.

At the beginning of service, when someone feels its all right to interrupt me when during worship, I make it a point during the sermon to interrupt their note taking and ask them their name, about their family, how they heard of this church, where they work...

During worship, particularly in a more 'stiff' church, I will do the running man, the electric slide or the hokey pokey as I dance unto the Lord.

Before He begins his sermon, most pastors tells the congregation to take time to introduce ourselves to each other, so I like to approach the pastor and worship leader up front and ask them their name, about their family, how they heard of this church, where they work...

During the sermon, I will  fill out the visitors packets with friends' information. Or count the number of times a preacher will say amen.... aloud.....in Spanish. OR I have asked my kids to count the number of times the preacher says amen, knowing they will let the rest us know the tally. If the sermon seems to be going in circles or I will call the cellys of the people I know that I think might be in church to see if they have their ringers off. I have used the church directories that are provided at the information booth when I have visited a church for the first time. It is particularly amusing when it is someone up front that has there celly go off. One last thing, by far the most outrageous and potentially hazardous is if my wife, Nikki puts her purse out of her reach. I will call her celly to see if she has her ringer turned off. When it's not, I then, very dramatically, act embarrassed.

And then just for my own amusement, at the end of service when we are told to step into the aisle and hold hands of the people next to us, I make it a point when the pastor prays for the person on my left, to squeeze the hand of the person on my right and vice versa. Or, if I wanna shake up the prayer team a little, I may ask for hands to be laid upon me in prayer for healing for lice, dandruff, hemorrhoids or jock itch.

Honestly, Sunday service ain't that bad and I don't view it as a time to entertain myself.  My wife will get annoyed when my mind wanders and I pull out the celly and update my fantasy team or facebook.  There are times that my short attention span will get the better of me but I would never have done anything like I have just written about.  Or have I?

This Little Light of Mine

It’s not that I don’t have a sense of humor, I do. However, I am Norwegian and our humor is hard to find. Overall, we are a serious bunch. I never once remember my Norwegian pastor telling a joke from the pulpit. I had a pastor once who felt he had to have a joke to start every sermon. I really didn’t care for that – but maybe it was that I was Norwegian.

I thought about that Pastor and wondered if I could remember any of his jokes to share with you. However, most of them weren’t that good. I don’t remember any of them. I thought about trying to find one of those funny stories from Reader’s Digest. Or maybe even one of those letter to God by children, etc.

I’m too serious. Everyone who knows me knows that’s true. To say that this topic is a challenge for me is an understatement. Then my good friend David knocks it out of the park yesterday. Feeling pressure over something funny really says something about me, doesn’t it!?

I have served in almost every capacity in a local church. I used to get to church early on a Sunday morning because I was in charge of the Sunday School. I’d get the supplies out and check on things. I also would check the toilet paper in both the bathrooms. It seemed they always needed a new roll of toilet paper.

Speaking of bathrooms, I’ve always had this fear that I would have the lapel microphone on and be one of those people who forget it’s on. You know, we’ve all heard those stories of someone with the mic on, they go to the bathroom and all the bathroom noises are heard all over the church. Fortunately, that’s not my funny story today.

At this church, I was also in charge of the women’s ministry. One of the most difficult programs we had was the time we decided to have fun. Now if this had been a daylong prayer program I’d have been fine. Or maybe if I were to exhort people on spiritual disciplines, I’d have done really good. But no, our pastor’s wife, this delightful woman with a real quirky sense of humor decided we needed some fun. Fun? In church – to this good serious Norwegian, church and fun in the same sentence is a bit of an oxymoron.

So what did we do? We decided to have a lampshade hat contest. Yes, we all made hats to wear on our head. We actually had to wear them in a fashion show. As you might guess, mine had to have a serious spiritual tone to it. I made a hat representing the fruit of the spirit.

Everyone else’s was less serious. It was hysterical. Here were all these women, young and older, with lampshades on their heads and no one was drunk; we weren’t even drunk in the Spirit. I know I laughed so hard I almost wet my pants as we paraded around with our hats. It was fun to be silly. We ended with a devotional on being the light of the world and sang "This Little Light of Mine."

Being serious is fine. Life is serious. Fun is scriptural too. I need some fun, how about you?

A cheerful disposition is good for your health

Proverbs 17:22a (The Message)

Did Jesus Laugh?

The Brazilian bride and groom released white doves after giving their vows, signifying there new life together. There was one small problem, that being the ceiling fan the took the life of the groom's dove en route from the cathedral. The quick thinking pastor said, "that is not what I meant by fanning the flames of love," and continued to the next portion of the service.

After the ceremony, fueled by a few cocktails, it became a unforgettable anecdote.

This week, your Kingdom Bloggers are going to relate a funny story from church - which isn't all that spiritual I guess. Please feel free to comment and relate one of your own - this crew could use a good laugh.

Here is an excerpt from my still unpublished book.

Let me begin. In the Spring of 1999 I met a Brazilian pastor who became my closest friend. He invited me to minister at a church where he was the Youth Pastor. I remember struggling in prayer for 2 or 3 hours before the Sunday evening meeting. I just seemed to be fighting with something in the spirit realm, so I continued to press in, and finally I had a vision. I pictured a balding man in his late 50's to early 60's. The picture in my spirit was rather distinctive - a face I would recognize - and I took note. After the short vision I felt the Lord impress upon me 6 things I was supposed to share with this man. Again, I took note, ended my prayer session and got dressed for the service.

That evening I drove to Igreja Baptista, not far from my house. I met my friend there, and we worshiped for a bit. As I stepped to the platform for my portion of the meeting, I saw the face of the man from my vision. What was confusing to me was that he looked younger than the face I saw; having thin, but rich black hair. I thought, I will just wait for his father to come and deliver the message.

After 30-40 minutes of ministry, no one else showed up in this man's row. I decided to take a chance and asked the man to stand up so I could share what I had seen in my prayer time. I told him about seeing his face and I began to share the 6 things that I felt impressed to tell him. I told him that I sensed that he had been in Brazil for a few weeks and just returned. He nodded in agreement. Each of the 6 topics seemed to hit home and he became tearful as God encouraged him.

As I ended, I then told him how puzzled I was about the vision, the age of the man I had seen and the lack of hair; for he had hair. It was obvious to me that the words I had for him were not far in the future - how could he age and lose his hair? As the man sat down, there were some muffled snickers.

The pastor ended the service with a short prayer.

We filed into the kitchen for refreshments, the pastor and a my friend came to me almost laughing out loud. They told me this man I had just ministered to, had in fact just returned from Brazil - where he received a hair transplant!

My friend thought this particular incident was so much fun, that he used the story to introduce me over and over again while we were in Brazil. HERE is that story.

God really does know us, and He has a sense of humor too.

The hour I first believed...can happen a number of times in your life.

Just this week, I was telling the story of how I hooked up with my first college band as a drummer. I had played guitar for years, but took an interest in drums on a suggestions by none other than the son of Don Williams (who?). Donnie Jr. and I were in school together back in the day.

One Friday evening while in college around 6:30, I cruised over to Frat Row to watch the band he played for start setting up for an 8:30 start time. About an hour later, their drummer reappears from a mysterious hiatus, and he's completely tanked. Apparently, he had been helping with making the party punch and took it upon himself to personally make sure each bottle of PGA was safe for consumption. Even the best drummer might find it difficult to play while projectile vomiting on all fours repeatedly,so I was pressed (kicking and screaming) into my first performance with about a half hour crash course through the set.

I was hooked. Not necessarily by the performing part, but rather by the satisfaction of using my marginal musical talent to lock in with other musician to make good music.

Fast forward to a few years ago when an old college-band drummer was invited to play with our church's Praise Team. I was petrified. Drummers are constantly (and rather obnoxiously) pounding out beats and rhythms with their hands and feet, which I had done through nearly every church worship service from my seat in the congregation for years, but being a part of leading worshipping service? I just didn't feel worthy.

The Praise Team was in a bind, so I agreed to sit in one Sunday morning on a few rather mellow songs. The first one was in something called 6/8 time, and I didn't have a clue as I fumbled trying to force a 4/4 time square into a 6/8 round hole. Disastrous. But thanks to a super talented band leader with quick thinking and subtle head gestures, we worked through the song despite my rough start. I didn't get the same euphoric feeling following that first set at church that I had experienced back in college. Why?

After attending several practices and playing a few more services, I moved into the drummer's spot full-time. Honestly, I still wasn't comfortable with my role and felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility, which I believe hampered my drum playing. Also, there had always been a bit of a controversy over the contemporary music played during praise and worship, which I'm sure is completely unique to our church (eye roll).

About six months after becoming the full-time drummer for the Praise Team, I witnessed something during a song that truly changed my attitude. The song was Chris Tomlin's version of Amazing Grace, My Chains Are Gone, and as I glanced over at the band leader like I often do for cues, I noticed he was singing and playing with such conviction as tears streamed down his face. His back was to the congregation, so I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who saw this. That's when I realized, he's singing as if no one else is here and it's just him and Jesus. Wow.

I was overcome with the Spirit that day, and I instantly had a complete new outlook on my role behind the drum set. I wasn't playing, good or bad, for the congregation...I was playing for Him.

Several months later, we were asked to play that same song at the funeral of a good friend's mother. The service was conducted at our church and the place was full. There were people from a number of different churches, as well as, no church at all. As we built the song up to the forceful middle section, I could feel the tears flowing...

My chains are gone. I've been set free.

My God, my Savior has ransomed me.

And like a flood, His mercy reigns.

Unending love, Amazing grace.

There's always a danger when getting lost in a song while playing in front of other people, but I didn't care. I knew that my friend's mom...because of grace...was with Jesus. I became overcome with joy as I pounded out the beat and at the thought of one day joining her...all because of grace.

As Christians, we use words like grace, faith, joy and mercy on a regular, if not daily, basis. But the true implications behind those words are...well...completely overpowering. I know like you, I've bellowed out the staple song Amazing Grace hundreds of times in church, and I've even during a few of them recognized the wretch I truly am. A wretch that is completely worthless without that amazing grace.

Grace is the word that most makes me look so forward to drumming for Him one day for all of eternity...if He wants me to.

The Ministry of Grace

Grace...a word I know well!!

My grandmothers name was Gwendolyn Ruth Kennedy...She passed away before my oldest son was born (17 years ago). Amazing Grace was the song I would sing to her (only the first verse). I had not an ounce of understanding about the song or the word "grace" for that matter. I just knew she loved it and the words spoke to me, I now know they were speaking to my soul...

Grace is a word I have not only come to know but, I have had revelation upon revelation that has opened up a deeper understanding and a freeing power.

As I have said many times in the past, my salvation experience was a radical one...a Jesus encounter!!

My husband and I were in a small office, on Cape Cod Ma., We had made plans to distract and freak out the "God Guy!" With every attempt at distracting him and saying things that, I thought would make him throw my husband and I out of his office....Well,it didn't work, it seemed that the more darkness we poured out, the more his eyes filled with tears and the gentler he became. Can you understand my frustration? The tattoos and piercings weren't working, the black makeup didn't phase him, the "gangsta" attire wasn't working either. Our intentions were to make his head spin, how in the world was he making "our" heads spin? Well I now know it was "grace!"

I don't have any deep "theology" on the subject. What I do have is revelation-A divine impartation from the Holy Spirit.
OK back to the story.....

That day my husband and I accepted Christ as our Savior our names were written in the Lambs book of Life...Thank you Jesus!!

That head spinning feeling from the God Guy was... The absence of judgement,sincerety and no fear of "our nonsense." It was a love that he too had obtained from God's grace bestowed upon him.
After leaving the office that day...My husband and I had nothing to talk about,it was a long, silent car ride back home.

This is my 10th year serving the Lord and the understanding of grace has not only become deeper for me but, has become the foundation of my ministry.

Check this out-It doesn't matter what you've done, what you were in the past, how educated you are, what gender you are. The grace of Jesus Christ says-You are loved, you are good enough! It says you were worth dying for!...

Another Definition of Grace

GRACE:

• As defined in Websters-a manifestation of favor, esp. by a superior; the freely given, unmerited favor and love of God.
• As defined in Hebrew-subjective (kindness, favor) or objective beauty:-favour, graceious, pleasant, precious, well-favoured.
  
• As defined in the Greek-graciousness (as gratifying), of manner or act abstract or concrete; literal, figurative or spiritual; especially the divine influence upon the heart, and its reflection in the life.
• As defined by Dave Tvedt-unfortunately, it is what I arrogantly withhold or limit to others but I still demand more of from God and others.

For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you.

Romans 12.3

Grace is a big fish tale!

Have you noticed how often you hear the song Amazing Grace at places where you least expect a hymn to be heard? It has become sort of this eerie anthem at times of pain. I guess that’s appropriate on some levels, when there is pain, we want the grace of God to relieve us. 

I never tire of the song and I certainly never tire of grace. I love every verse of this song, but when we get to the last verse about having no less days to sing God’s praise, I usually get chills. It is as my arms refuse to stay by my side and they have to go up in praise to God.

Performers who have no connection to the church often perform it and make lots of money. Take for instance this wonderful performance by Il Divo found here.  Perhaps we cling to this song as a society because deep inside, we know we need grace and lots of it! It is amazing!

What is so amazing about grace? As with God’s love, I don’t think there are adequate words to describe it nor do I think we fully comprehend it.  As I consider grace and it’s amazing nature, I don’t turn to a New Testament passage. A simple search will tell you that grace is mentioned over 100 times in the New Testament and as few as 3 times in the Old Testament depending on the translation. Isn’t grace just a New Testament teaching? No.

I find one of the most powerful teachings about grace in a book of the Bible that we tend to think of in terms of the Veggie Tales or some large font colorful children’s book, the book of Jonah. I had a friend who once referred to Jonah as the Monty Python section of the Bible. He had a point. It is a series of very unlikely and hard to believe events.

When I did children’s ministry I taught the story of Jonah several times. One time I built this 10 foot long big fish in the basement of the church. I used tarps and duct tape and a box fan to allow the fish to inflate. It was a small church and we had a mixture of various aged children. We had fresh mouthed boys and delicate little girls – we even had some fresh mouth girls and delicate boys. In we crawled together. The black tarps made it dark inside. We heard the roar of the fan. In the total darkness we imagined what it would be like to be in the belly of that fish. It was as if we were there with Jonah.

The scripture says an amazing thing about Jonah’s time in the fish. In our view of God we often see this as God’s punishment of Jonah for disobedience. How often we think of God in this way. I use to think of God this way. Sometimes I forget about grace and still do. The scripture say that God prepared a fish for Jonah (Jonah 1:17). God prepared a fish… think about that. That is grace!

There is more to Jonah’s story. Grace is evident throughout four chapters of this tiny book. I suggest you read it, it won’t take you long.

God’s grace came to those sailors on that boat with Jonah. First time we see these rough and hearty men, they are crying to “their gods” (Jonah 1:5).  In ten short verses we see these same idol worshipers praying to God, the God of Jonah, our God, the Lord Almighty. Then they offered sacrifices to Him and made vows. We’d probably say today that the whole boat load of them found grace and got converted. Grace to the outsider. Grace to those with no knowledge of God. There was a revival.

In the belly of that fish, Jonah found grace. As he cried out to God, God gave him grace by spitting him out and sending him to bring grace to Nineveh.  Jonah preaches and the whole country repents. By royal decree animals and humans fast and cry out to God! Can you imagine such a revival? Jonah reached an entire people group, a whole society. God gave His grace to the people of Nineveh. Talk about amazing grace. 

Jonah was mad. Picture Billy Graham in the biggest stadium in a country. He preaches his heart out calling for repentance. Graham says to the crowd, I am going to ask you to get out of your seat. The ruler of the country comes forward. He takes the microphone and tells the people we need to fast and pray. Everyone fasts including Buffy the cat and Fido the dog. Then in the next scene we see Billy pouting from a hill atop of the country.  He is mad because the whole country found grace. 

Jonah was mad, very mad. Jonah knew God was compassionate, after all God gave him grace when he disobeyed. He only wanted that grace for himself. He wanted to sit up there and watch God’s judgment. Some times we think it would be fun to watch God "get 'em" and give them what they deserve.

Now this is my favorite part of the book of Jonah. If you’ve never read it you should! (Jonah 4) We like it when God gives us grace. We like it when He gives grace to those we like or those who are like us. We don't want what we deserve."

We don’t like it when God gives grace to someone who did us dirty, or we don’t like, or who doesn’t do things the way we think they should be done. We don’t like it when God’s grace is extended to someone who seems totally evil and depraved. We want God to pour out His wrath and their just punishment, while we want grace for ourselves.

Grace is not just for you and me - it is for EVERYONE.

God’s grace is amazing.

It's Over!

Slam! The sound of twisting metal as a distracted driver crashes into the rear of my car. Stunned by the shooting pain in my back, I slowly unfasten my seat belt and wait for help. The driver of the car in the rear motions for me to open the window saying, "Forgive me, it was my fault - I was wrong."

This week your Kingdom Bloggers are going to write about grace. Be sure to comment, it is a great encouragement for the effort they put into sharing their heart in this sometimes lonely blogosphere. And if you wouldn't mind, share your favorite posts on Facebook, Tweet it or send it around in an email. We'd appreciate it. Thanks for reading along.

Isn't it amazing, I get rear-ended, dislocating a vertebrae in my back, and the other driver admits to his guilt in the heat of the moment. Of course the insurance company's official statement was that the driver of the car in which I was the passenger, was at fault. I suppose that's why he hit us at 40 mph while we were stopped at a red light - with a cop watching!

Don't you find it interesting that in an unscripted moment, the driver is remorseful, later changing His mind? I think that I can be like that too. Somehow I seem to conveniently forget the details of my own wrongs once they seem far enough in the past.

I once attended Cursillo (Tres Dias) and they often told us that Grace was God's-Riches-At-Christs-Expense. Grace, it was vehicle of the free gift that we needed receive by faith - one to open up and use by an act of our will. Evangelicals often call this salvation, but the giving of a valuable gift without merit, is truly a grace.

I don't know about you, but I wasn't willing to receive grace until two things happened. One, I was at the bottom of the barrel; desperate for some pain relief, and two, I was loved by strangers. You may read about my entrance into the Kingdom HERE, and the struggles that got me there, HERE.

I, like the man who smashed into me some 30 years ago, would unwillingly admit my guilt when caught in my transgressions, or when I was in so much pain over the choices that I made, there was no where else to turn. That is where I met grace. But guilt is not grace. Folks are sometimes made to feel guilty at altar calls. Making a decision for Christ under pressure rarely bares fruit.

Back to the accident. I ended up in the emergency room from my injury and it took 15 weeks for me to recover. I was unable to work, consequently having no income, I ended up in a welfare motel for a few weeks followed a couch surfing tour.

One night I lay there awake, no phone, no car, and nothing on TV. How could life be more difficult? It was one of the most painful days of my life. Where was grace now? I knelt down in the brown shag carpet next to the bed with an ugly green bedspread which smelled like cigarette smoke, and I asked God to forgive me of my sins. I had been saved for 10 years, but in my heart I knew I needed to get back on track. The car accident was no longer "someones fault," but one more incident that gently deepened my need to renew my relationship with Jesus.

Perspective is everything.

If we are honest with ourselves, many of us have had a period in life where skated on being obedient to the commands of God - and the pursuit of holiness. We wrapped that grace up in a garbage bag and left it for the last day. After all, we were saved, isn't that enough?

The grace of God covers us when we fail - truly one of the greatest benefits of being a Kingdom member. The grace of God is greater than anything we can do to mess it up. Why? Because nothing can separate us from the love of God! (Romans 8) And that means our sin too.

We can rationalize our thoughts, our behavior and convince ourselves that our motives are right. We can medicate our conscience with bus-y-ness or addictions, but we cannot escape Heaven.

When we discover that we deserve to be smote for even the smallest (in our eyes) offense, we will be well on our way to receiving grace. Grace transcends the notion of being good, for we can't be good enough for God. His holiness is absolute and what the word of God says is sin, IS.

THAT IS WHY WE NEED JESUS!

Jesus suffered the penalty for all of our sins, even if it was just one. He got in line, taking our place on death-row and went to the cross. Many Christians just think that He died for us - and He did. But He also died in PLACE of us. That is the revelation of grace.

Receiving this grace is a ticket to heaven - and that is just the beginning. We do not want to abuse our grace by sinning, no, we want to live for Christ.

Jesus loves us so much, and under grace we are only bound by the law of love. However; grace is essential for covering us as we move towards passion for Jesus, then onto holiness - which opens the door for the abiding love of our Father in Heaven. Without grace we can't get in, without mercy we can't stay in, and without holiness we can't enter in to God's eternal presence.

After many years of trying, working at it, failing to "fix" myself, get "good" and act like a Christian, I discovered that I can't do it. Many times I read the following verse:

2 Corinthians 5:17 (NKJ) Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.

What I thought was that we are new, but need to fix ourselves too. However; what it really means is that inside, because of grace, we have become new. And that is the person that we need to let out. That can only be done if the old man dies.

It is truly God's grace that He kills the old us with love, so that the new man can escape like a fragrant perfume. That process begins with saying. "Forgive me, it was my fault - I was wrong."

He is always God...no matter how much I try to mess that up.

Wow! Another week of inspiring post lifting praise to an awesome God!

I've been blessed this week reading each post and the comments that follow. I was conflicted a bit on exactly which of several possible stories I wanted to share, but David helped me decide with his great post on Monday. We should worship God at work...and also during the journey going to and from each day.

I've written about my commute a few times over on Tony C Today. It seems to always be a source of fodder for a good story...and a serious test of a few different virtues to boot. The commute has also been a blessing on many occasions for me as I use the time to talk with my Father about things on my heart, listen to podcast of sermons from local pastors of churches I don't attend but still love, gear up or decompress for/from work, and of course jam a little.

About two years ago, I was transitioning to a new position at work. At the very same time, my boss had ask if I would copy edit a book he had finished writing and was about to submit to a publisher. The subject covered the book of Genesis but was written from a different theological perspective than my own. He wasn't deterred that I would be approaching the task as a Christian, and he assured me there was no pressure to agree with his work...he just wanted me to copy edit for mechanics, grammar and check scripture references.

Let me state that I love this man and his entire family. I have the best job and working environment a person could ever ask to be placed...peas and carrots. I was determined to do the best job possible for him. As I got deeper into the book, it became obvious to me that our belief systems were vastly different. I started experiencing anxieties, not as a result of anything he said directly to me or required, but rather from my own conscience. Was it justifiable or grounded in dogma? The conflict became a spiritual struggle for me that lasted for several weeks and became a serious drag on my daily attitude.

I pressed on with editing the 700+ page book. There were times I know I avoided talking with my boss because I was becoming somewhat disconnected. My focus started breaking down as I struggled with what I should do or say based on my Christian faith. I had several conversation with my pastor who really helped me put things into a proper perspective. But still, the anxiety lingered and even haunted me at times.

While driving home from work one evening, I started praying for God to guide me, lead me. Should I stop editing because the book conflicted with my own faith? Why it took me so long to go to Him is beyond me, but I prayed, I waited and then I flipped on the radio...

The song King of Glory by Third Day was playing. I cranked it up. As I listened and began to sing along, I became overcome with Joy. I popped in a CD with the long version of the same song and started again. His name is Jesus, precious Jesus. The Lord Almighty, the King of my heart, the King of glory.

I pulled off I-26 at the top of Bays Mountain, put everything else on my mind and in my heart aside, and sang to my Jesus...the King of glory! When the song ended, I played it again...and then a third time. Alone...tears flowing...filled with Joy...I worshipped and sang praises to Him.

When I started driving again, my anxiety was just gone. I had become so wrapped up and worried that I had surrendered my source of Joy in life...the Joy that only comes when my focus is on Him. After that day, I had a number of great discussions with my boss about his book, his beliefs and also about my faith. He's a great guy who listens and doesn't judge, and that's the example I should have been exhibiting.

Although sometimes I fail, now I try not to be hampered by earthly issues when I worship or even prepare to worship. God deserves my undivided attention, and even though I'm never worthy of His blessing...sometimes He pours it on extra heavy just because He loves me.

I might be a little late getting home tonight...

Close Your Eyes and Worship

The subject of worship or a profound Worship experience? When I saw this was the blog subject for the week, I got EXCITED!! My mind immediately went to the first Sunday my husband and I stepped into a church.

We walked into an elementary school with what seemed liked 100's of exuberant smiling faces. I was so overtaken by the feeling of the atmosphere, that it took me a minute or two to realize there was a band playing music, people had hands raised eyes closed...Some people had their eyes open, some swayed from side to side, some even jumped. There was one woman in particular I remember vividly...she had her hands raised with a smile but tears were streaming down her face.

That entire service she had my attention, I watched as she smiled and wept, blotted her tears and cried some more.

I remember asking my husband Pablo-What is going on in here?

My mind was racing....OK??....When you walk in..everyone talks to you, then hugs you. Some people are laughing when others are crying. It's a miracle we even went back....Every Sunday that we went back it was the same experience. We got use to it (sort of) I even began singing the songs, some even from memory.

The songs became familiar, they were no longer strange....They were beautiful...the more I sang them the more beautiful they became. I began to anticipate the "song" part of church. I loved the message, I was learning and being challenged all at the same time. My salvation from day one has been a challenge and a constant learning experience. (That's a different blog)

After watching others worship and participating in worship myself. I became intrigued by those who raised their hands.

So what did I do ? What I always do!...JUMP in with both feet...In this case "both hands"...The song playing was "This is the Air I Breath."

I did it! I closed my eyes and with all my strength fought against the feelings of insecurity and thrust my arms into heaven.

The emotion I felt surged through my hands, through my entire body. I began to sing louder as tears began streaming down my face. That day in church...I understood "Worship."....That day I surrendered my will for His.

Jesus touched me that day. He spoke to me, I heard His voice. In that crowded church with eyes closed. It was just me and my Father. He told me that He loved me, and what I had done in my past didn't matter to Him. He called me daughter. That day...I became daddy's little girl....From that Sunday til the present time there is not a church service that I don't stand in surrender, there is not a song that is sung that I don't raise my arms in honor and praise to my King....Worship changed my life!! It gave me a way to come into intimate union with Jesus my Savior. It is my secret place where I can express to Him my inner most thoughts and desires. It's where I feel a sense of unconditional love into the very depths on my soul....

For 10 years now...I have had the honor of being a part and leading christian dance teams. I have seen miracles take place in many men, women and childrens lives I have watched deliverance and freedom explode from the presence of intimate worship.

So I guess it would be safe to say...Every worship experience has been profound. Every experience is unique. There is always something new He's speaking to us or maybe it's just the gentle touch of His hand as he wipes away your tears...My Jesus, My Savior, My Redeemer and King!!

Penguin Worship

"My heavenly Father likes to hear me sing as well as those who can sing better than I can. My Father likes to hear the crow as well as the nightingale- Billy Bray

If only I sang as beautiful as a crow cawed.

Not only do I sing like a wounded penguin, I also dance like one.  I can only hit two notes: painful and annoying. Not only do I get people peeking over their shoulders at me, trying to figure out the source for their headache, I have had little kids hear my singing and cover their ears. When the worship leader encourages the body to 'shout to the Lord', I shout as loud as I can, "I love you, Jeeeeesssssssssssssssuuuuusssssss!" If I can shout, clap and celebrate a touchdown or a knockout loudly, then I figure I better be twice as loud in my expression for the Great Lord Jesus.
 I also aint got no rythm, hey, I cant even spell rtythm without using spell check or dictionary.com.  There was one time I was asked stop clapping during worship because I threw off the rhythm of those around me. I also have missed my hands while clapping and hit the kid sitting beside me in the head.
Early in my Faith, I prayed to God that I wanted to 'dance like David'.  And I did.  Needless to say that day was pretty memorable for me and for the 200 or so people that witnessed me create a one man mosh pit. Out of curiosity, I looked up the definition of danced (raqad) and learned that it meant to stamp, to spring about wildly. I learned early on in my walk that God is Faithful to answer Biblical prayers.

Each one of these incidents, stick with me (and others I am sure) because I can recall how Holy Spirit had stirred me up, how He had challenged me to step out of my idea of cool and to be a fool for Him.  The back and forth in my mind about if I was trying to please my God or do things for show.  I also recall how flushed I felt after some of the incidents when people I didn't know glared their disapproval at me.

But the most memorable time of worship for me was with my family.  It was a day in which Naomi came back from a weekend at her dad's and she was tired, whiny and snotty to everyone.  It was particularly frustrating for Nikki, as her excitement to see her daughter was stolen by the words of the bio-parents being hissed at her by her 5 year old daughter.

I remember it very clearly, Logan, Naomi and Nikki were sitting on the couch and I saw the negativity jump from Naomi to Nikki to Logan and eventually to me.  I got hot at the thought of how each one of us was giving away the Joy we should be having with the family altogether.  I threw up my arms in disgust and prayed angrily in the Spirit as I walked outta the room.  And then Holy Spirit touched me and led me to sing the chorus of  Blessed Be Your Name.  By time I got back into the room Nikki was singing and a smile had appeared on her face.  Naomi and Logan joined in shortly after and before we were done, each one of us was smiling and singing praise to God.  It was amazingly beautiful, for our hearts and Spirits to be in unison as we as a family, shook off the slop of the enemy and put on the Joy of the Lord. Individually and collectively, we overcame our attitudes and chose to worship the God who is deserving of all praise no matter what circumstance.

I Got Satisfaction!

Worship?! As a born and bred Pentecostal, I should know all about worship. On top of that, I just finished a seminary course in worship leadership. I got a perfect 100% in everything. Does that make me a budding expert on worship?

I’ve analyzed and critiqued two worship services of different "genre." I crafted my own Biblical foundation for worship and a theology of worship. I led a worship service and made a DVD of the experience for a grade. I commented on all different aspects of worship. Two very complete orders of worship were submitted-not to mention the project on dance in worship. You can see that one here. I read four books.  All this after being a lifelong Pentecostal, a wacky Charismatic and having taught worship classes in churches. Wow, that was a lot of work on worship.

What about experiences? Well, there are plenty of them. I’ve shouted and done Jericho marches to the tune of I’ll Fly Away. I’ve literally rolled on the floor (I guess that makes me a genuine "Holy Roller"). I’ve knelt, been slain, danced, waved my hands, waved flags, own a glory hoop, a Tallit, a shofar and had some very, very deep, quiet intimate times with Jesus.  Let me tell you, these were all great times.  And for those of you who know me as a bit more nerdy and quiet, yes, I was sane the whole time. In fact, I recommend all those experiences!

Yesterday, David reminded us that our work is a part of our worship. I want to take that a bit further. The Westminster Catechism asks, What is the chief end of man (humanity)?  The answer is: To glorify God and enjoy Him forever. I think this begs the question, if worship is about God and His glory, then how does God feel about what I offer for worship. Is the worship about me? How I feel? How I “perform?” or is it about Him?

I don’t know how God feels when we do a Jericho march around the church. Or when I wave my banners and dance?  I like to think He enjoys it. God cares about me. Jesus died for my freedom. We know those ancient Hebrews got pretty expressive as they worshiped. When the glory of the Lord fills a house, we must react. When Moses asked to see God’s glory, he was only allowed to see his goodness. To see more would mean Moses’ death. You can read about it here.  

So this business of worship and God’s glory is pretty serious business.  I read a book last summer that said some things about how to please God in worship. After all that is our goal, not to feel good or have those Holy Ghost Goosebumps but to glorify God.  John Piper says in Let the Nations Be Glad:

God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied with Him. (Piper 20)

I pondered this phrase for weeks last summer. When I think of worship, I think it is not only about actions, liturgy, manifestations and the like. It is about being satisfied with God. Some of the meanings of the verb, to satisfy are:

·         to fulfill the desires, expectations, needs, or demands of (a person, the mind, etc.); give full contentment to

·         to put an end to (a desire, want, need, etc.) by sufficient or ample provision

·         to give assurance to; convince

·         to answer sufficiently

Yes, satisfying sure sounds like something only God can do?

Are you satisfied with God? The more satisfied you are with Him, the more you have worshipped and glorified God.

Hallelujah I have found Him

Whom my soul, so long has craved

Jesus satisfies my longings

By His blood I know am saved.

For all the lyrics to this wonderful hymn, see here.

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Piper, John. Let the Nations Be Glad!: The Supremacy of God in Missions. Grand Rapids, Mich: Baker Books, 1993. Bottom of Form