Big Church, Little Church

When I was in college, I checked out the big church right off campus...and hated it. And then and there I decided I was more of a small to mid-sized church kind of girl. But then I graduated and worked at Elmbrook, and was immersed in big church for several years. And now I can see the pros and cons of each...so I thought I'd list them.

Big Church Pros:
- Lots of opportunities for small groups/service opportunities that are the perfect fit for you.
- Worship. I don't mean the quality of the worship leaders (though there often is a better pool of talent and better equipment)...I mean the idea of joining with hundreds or even thousands of voices in singing praise to God. There's something very heavenly about that...I miss it a lot.

Small Church Pros:
- It's easy to fit in right away (or to tell if it's a clique-y church that you'll never fit into)
- There's a greater sense of community (I think)
- There's usually less of a sense of "grandeur" and "production" and more a focus on faith growth

Big Church Cons:
- Easy to get lost in the crowd if you're not proactive about finding your place.
- Especially if there are satellite locations, it can feel very segregated.
- Traffic and parking!

Small Church Cons:
- If there is only one service, it's hard to serve!
- It's easier for the pastor to notice if you fall asleep during the sermon.
- You'll be overwhelmed with poachers eager to sign you on when you visit once.

What would you add to my lists?

Covenant

This morning I reflected on this verse from Psalm 103, finishing the thought about who God's everlasting love is with: "with those who keep his covenant and remember to obey all his precepts."

The word covenant got the bulk of my attention. Because precepts, laws, commandments...these are all rule-based words. But covenant is so much more. Covenant is the reason we obey those precepts and laws and commandments.

God's covenant with the Israelites was simple: They will be my people, and I will be their God.

And yet they broke the covenant time and time again, turning to other gods and not acknowledging that they were his people and he was their God.

Today, we're under that covenant still, now sealed with the blood of Christ. And so as I reflected on this verse, I thought about what it means to be God's people and for him to be our God. And it seems that when the Israelites failed at this, it was because they'd given up faith in him and turned to other solutions. In their case, idols. But in my case, how often do I give in to my own manipulations, fears, and worries, failing to live by faith? Am I my own hindrance to keeping God's covenant?

But for all my shortcomings, I know that he is my God. And hearing this song on the way to church reminded me of that yet again.

Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea
A great High Priest whose name is love
Who ever lives and pleads for me

My name is graven on his hands
My name is written on his heart
I know that while in heaven he stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart
No tongue can bid me thence depart

May I live a life worthy of the covenant graven into his hands and written on his heart.

Dandelions

When Buttercup died, there were certain things I had to hold on to. A ceramic paw print. Her collar. Her favorite toys. Some clumps of her fur. Her clothes. But it struck me the other day that when I die, no one else will probably care to keep any of those things. Even her ashes and pictures will probably be thrown away after I'm gone. Which made me sad.

And then I started thinking about how quickly people are forgotten, too. All it takes is one or two generations to be completely forgotten. Unless you were really super famous or did something amazing (or horrendous) for mankind.

Then I thought about these verses in Psalm 103: "As for man, his days are like grass. He flourishes like a flower of the field. The wind blows over it, and it is gone; its place remembers it no longer."

All pretty depressing stuff, huh? We're so finite. And even in the context of God's everlasting love (which the Psalm continues about), it's sad to think that 100 years from now no one will know or care who I was.

But then I thought about that flower metaphor from the Psalm some more. And I thought about dandelions. Which aren't even really flowers, they're weeds...but indulge me. I thought about what happens when the wind blows over them...they are gone. But they've made an impact. The seeds that blow away will go on to produce more dandelions. And even though the little girl who picks those new dandelions and makes a bouquet for her mother won't have any idea where the seeds for that flower originated, the dandelion that blew away made its mark on this world.

That's when I realized I'm OK if 100 years from now, no one knows or cares about my name. As long as 100 years from now, something about the way I lived my life helped make the future a better place.

Christians

So, I wanted to clarify something I think has come out a few times in my blogs. From time to time I complain about the things Christians tend to do. Like judge in the name of "accountability."

And yet, I am proud to say I love and follow Jesus. I am a Christian. It's like this song "Down in Flames" by Relient K.

Let me pause to clarify
Because I'm sure you're asking why
I stand before you and proudly claim
To be part of what this song proclaims


I'm part of the problem, I confess
But I gotta get this off my chest
Let's extinguish the anguish for which we're to blame
And save the world from going down in flames

The body of Christ has issues. It has problems. It's full of people who sin on a daily basis. I'm one of those people. I don't claim to live the Christian life perfectly, nor can I say I've never done the very things I complain about. I have. Many times.

And sometimes, this group of sinners, including me, do things that don't represent Jesus well. Unfortunately, those tend to be the examples of Christianity that tend to stick out. They get a lot more press. And even in individual lives, negative experiences just stick more than positive ones. So even though most of my Christian friends and acquaintances have not met me with judgment, those that have seem to be the ones that I remember more.

But I think Christians are capable of accomplishing amazing things for Christ. For all the times Westboro Baptist Church has shown hatred rather than the love of Christ by picketing at gay people's funerals, there's this: Christians who went to a gay pride parade to apologize. Not to condone anything, but to show love. Because that's what Jesus did with almost everyone he met. He showed love and compassion to the cheating tax collectors. The adulterers. The prostitutes. The outcast lepers. The only people he fought with were the ones that thought they had it all together. He couldn't help them because they didn't think they needed help. They just thought everyone else did.

There are some Christians, like those from Westboro Baptist, that act like that. Everyone else needs help, but not them. And those are the Christians who stand out. But those aren't the people who make up the body of Christ. When I read about strippers picketing on the church lawn after its congregants had picketed at their club, I cheered for the strippers. Because I don't think that was strippers vs. my fellow Christians. I think it was strippers vs. haters. And hate has nothing to do with Jesus.

But most Christians I know aren't haters. They aren't perfect, but they want to do what's right. They want to show Jesus' love. So don't take my complaints as general statements about what Christians are. I complain because it bothers me so much to see us as a group being less than what we can be. All I'm doing is trying to extinguish the anguish for which we're to blame so that together, we can do amazing things to show the world the love of Christ.

Impact

Tonight I spent a bunch of time reading reviews of My First Hands-On Bible on amazon.com and on various blogs. Which was super fun and encouraging, because I was the lead editor on this Bible.

As I worked on it, I prayed often for the writers. I usually pray about what I work on, but I used Scripture as the basis of my prayers for this project. After all, we were working on the Bible. God's Word! And I wanted to make sure the authors I was working with knew I was praying for them, so I sent out my prayers each week by e-mail, which I don't normally do. It was a humbling and honoring task for all involved. Several authors commented to me about that, too.

And so tonight, as I read and watched how this Bible is impacting real kids lives, I felt a whole range of great emotions. I felt proud when one blogger wrote that the people who developed the Bible know how to engage kids. Yay! I felt encouraged that so many people liked something I had worked hard on. I felt validated that my time had been well spent making something people spoke so highly of.

And the more I read, the more joy I felt. By the end I just had the hugest grin on my face.

Because by that point, I had moved from pride or even encouragement. It had finally clicked that these reviews showed me first hand how what I do touches kids' lives in ways I'll never fully know. I thought about the big picture of all that God is doing and was just honored that he let me be a part of it in the development of this Bible. I thought about how some people were saying their kids are falling in love with the Bible, and how this early impression can give them a lifelong thirst for God's Word. I thought about what they might grow up to be and do with the love of God's Word in their heart.

It's not about me or what I did. It's not about the whole team of people that worked on this or what we did. It's about being a small part of God's amazing work in kids' lives. It's about making an impact on this world without my name being attached to it. (I mean, who really reads the credits page?) And I realized that although there are a lot more reviews to read about this particular Bible than most of the things I work on, everything I do is a part of touching lives for Jesus. What an amazing job I have!

So how do I feel now? Honored. Privileged. Wowed that God can use a mess like me.

Accountability

An anonymous poster put this comment on my blog, Fault.

Ali - I only know about the situation what I've seen here but it doesn't sound like people are judging you, it sounds more like friends offering accountability to me. Which is an amazing thing that you have friends that care about you so much that they'll offer the 'tough love' that's needed sometimes in life. At least that's my assumption to what is happening..again I only know what I've read here.

Which is fine, this person admits to having a very limited view of the situation. The person didn't know that the two others who commented before him aren't even people I know in real life. (Although I didn't really take their comments to be judgment or accountability anyway.)

But it got me thinking about what accountability really is. And how it seems like Christians are often eager to hold people accountable, even if they haven't made much of an effort to care about the person before that person did something to be viewed as a wicked sinner.

I'm all for friends holding me accountable. I know who I can go to when I just want to hear encouragement and support no matter how wrong I know I am, and I know who I can go to when I need people who will be honest and tell it like it is. I've welcomed the latter from good friends throughout my life, and most recently in regards to my divorce.

What I'm not for is people popping into your life just to "hold you accountable." That isn't accountability, in my mind. It's judgment. No matter how lovingly it's said. If you never cared about having or maintaining a relationship with me before, you don't have a right to criticize my decisions now. Because chances are, I'm not going to want to get into the specifics with you. You haven't earned my trust. And so you will always be "holding me accountable" from a blinded viewpoint, without all the information.

If you want to earn the right to hold someone accountable if and when they do mess up, don't wait for them to mess up. Be a caring friend in the first place. If you haven't done that, trust that their real friends have covered the accountability with them.

Step-by-step

Today I climbed Grey Rock with Peanut. Well, most of Grey Rock. I confess that I didn't make it quite all the way up. I was darn close, but the sky was getting gray and the wind was getting strong, and I was concerned about the unblocked wind on the summit and its effects my little 10-pound companion. Plus I was tired. (I'd say dog-tired, but Peanut was trucking along no problem from start to finish...)

Dan and I climbed Grey Rock once. We thought we made it to the summit, so we had a snack and turned around. Then when we got back down and saw the map, we thought there was just a little more and we hadn't quite made it. So I was using that as a guide of how long today's hike would take. Just a little longer.

Wrong. Turns out the trail we were hiking takes you up to a high point of one section of the mountain, then back down, through a meadow, and up the real peak. So what we thought was the second trail joining up with the first was actually the descent to the meadow. Oopsies.

All this to say, today's hike took a lot more time and energy than I expected. And when I got to the part where I decided to turn around, I was wishing for a helicopter to come whisk me back to my red armchair. I thought I'd be done around 2; I turned around at 1:50. So I was ready to be done but had a long descent in front of me.

For a while all I could think about was being in my red chair. But that was depressing me, so I thought about the milestones ahead. Reaching my car. And when that got depressing, reaching the point where the two paths split. But ultimately my problem was that I kept trying to guess how far along the path I was. Was I half way yet? And since I had no pedometer or altimeter or any other-meter device to tell me that, it was frustrating when I'd realize time was passing and I hadn't reached any of my milestones yet. And my legs were sore, my back was tired, and my toes felt like they were swollen and bleeding (they weren't). And I had to pee a little bit.

That's when I decided to change my focus. I decided to just keep thinking about putting one foot in front of the other. Because if I did that enough, I'd eventually get to my milestones and be in my red chair. But in the mean time, I'd enjoy the journey more. And it worked! The hike from there was less painful and just easier.

That's what faith is about. So often I try to write my own story. I focus on my next major milestone or where I want to end up, and try to think about how soon it might come. But sometimes I need to slow down, enjoy the journey, and just focus on taking the next step. Because as clueless as I was to how far I was on that path, I'm even more clueless when it comes to my future. I don't even know what the milestones will be, much less when they'll happen.

That's the summit, or pretty close to it. I didn't zoom or anything. I was so close!!

Patience

Nehemiah gets a lot of press for being a patient man. But when you think about the other stories of big projects in the Bible, Nehemiah's is one of the fastest moving. He just waits a few months for permission to go, and the wall is done in a mere 52 days.

In contrast, Noah was 500 when he is first mentioned. He is 600 when the earth floods. And between the rain and waiting for the flood waters to recede, he is on the ark for about 9 months. Abraham died hundreds of years before his descendants would truly conquer the promised land. Joseph was wrongly imprisoned for two years, and that was only a part of his path from slave to leader.

The Israelites cried out in captivity in Egypt for 400 years. They wandered in the desert for 40 years. David had to wait until after his death for his son to achieve his dream of building the temple. Paul waited and prayed but never did get rid of the thorn in his flesh.

And the Messiah? Thousands of years of waiting for him to show up. (And Simeon was sure waiting!)

In fact, the "faith hall of fame" in Hebrews 11 says this about many of those examples: "All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth." They knew that their patience would pay off in the form of answered promises, even if they never saw it happen in their lifetime. So they lived by faith.

Bottom line: Sometimes it takes a lot of waiting to see God's hand do mighty things. Nehemiah, one of the shortest "waiting" timespans, is the one we look at, probably because 4 months is all we can bear when we think about waiting for something. But the truth is, sometimes we don't even get to see what God does with our lives, because his story is bigger than you or me as individuals. God is doing good things, and the best things are worth waiting for.

I recently reflected on Psalm 103:5: "...[he] satisfies your desires with good things." As I reflected on it I thought about my tendency to manipulate situations I feel are taking too long. I realized that my impatience means I'm satisfying my own desires with lesser things. But if I wait on his timing, I'll find that he has good things in store for me.

Deception

I've blogged before about Lucy, my '92 LeBaron dream car. I drove Lucy during college. Let me tell you a bit more about Lucy. Aside from the hood latch, her body was in great shape. I'm talking not one part of the ceiling sagging. No rips or stains in the upholstery. No rust spots, no major scratches or dents. No cracks in the glass. And when I scrubbed her down with a gas station squeegee (a college student way of getting a free car wash), she really sparkled. Aside from the fact that Lucy was obviously not a new model in style, she was a beaut.

When she finally died, I found a friend and her mechanic boyfriend, who came to see what might be wrong. When the mechanic opened the hood, he was astounded. One problem I remember he pointed out, was this blue powder of corrosion by every single bolt on the engine.

He had a lot more to say than that. I don't really speak car so I didn't get it all. But the bottom line: it was the end of the road for Lucy and me.

To look at Lucy, you'd think she was in great condition. It's what her outside communicated. I knew I had to put in more oil almost as much as gas, and that was a problem, but otherwise I had no indication she wasn't in perfect health.

I think if Jesus were to talk to the Pharisees today, he'd compare them to Lucy. In reality, he called them whitewashed tombs, a more culturally relevant metaphor back then. All pretty on the outside, but dead on the inside. Lucy's well-cared for exterior was a facade, a deception, covering the decay and rot in the part of her that really mattered: her engine.

Religion can do that to us. That's why Jesus thought the Pharisees were whitewashed tombs. Their religion made them look all good and holy and righteous. But true righteousness isn't about showing off how perfect you are. It's about a heart and a passion for God. That's the engine. And for the Pharisees, it was as dead as Lucy's.

I want to be so much more than an empty shell. I don't want my life to be a deception covering up decay. I want to be beautiful where it really counts: in my heart.

Christlike

Lately I've been thinking about personality versus character. When I was driving to a bar on a Friday night for a friend's birthday party at 8:00, I had a prematurely old moment when I thought to myself, "I can't believe I'm leaving my house after 8 pm."

But I don't think it's so much that I'm prematurely old as it is that I'm just not a go-out kind of person. I'm much more content to curl up with a book or a good TV show than I am to hang out with a bunch of people. I mean, I like to hang out with people one-on-one sometimes. But on a typical night you'll find me at home on the couch, and that's just where I want to be.

There is nothing better or worse about being an introvert vs. an extrovert. I think with both, you need balance. (Introverts need to be with people sometimes, even if it drains them, because community is important. Extroverts may be drained by being alone, but it's important for reflection and prayer.)

And there are a million other examples of personality traits that are totally separate from character virtues. What your hobbies are, what you're passionate about, what you're good at.

Which got me thinking about what it really means to be Christlike. Because I think sometimes it is hard to separate Jesus' character from his personality. He was a public figure. He was often with crowds. This didn't seem to overwhelm him, even if it sometimes was a sacrifice when what he really wanted was a little alone time. I would venture to say Jesus was an extrovert. Does that mean I need to get up on a mountain and preach? No. Does it mean I need to be compassionate? Yes. Does my compassion have to be amidst a large crowd? No.

What do you think? What are some lines you'd draw between Jesus' character and his personality?

Ambition

Chip (one of my gerbils) loves to try to dig through the glass of their rodent aquarium. It's obviously a futile effort. You can't dig through glass.

But the thing is, the gerbils used to be in a plastic aquarium. One time, I guess I didn't latch the door properly, and Sandwich escaped. Chip, despite the clear exit, remained in the cage. Another time Sandwich chewed a hole through one of the tubes and escaped. Again, despite the gaping hole, Chip remained in place.

Which makes me wonder: Why is Chip so desperate to dig through the glass? If she could succeed, what next? Does she even really want to make the leap from the cage to the floor and risk facing the ferocious beasts that lurk freely in the house? History tells us that no, she doesn't want to take those risks.

I think sometimes we get so hung up on wanting something that we lose any kind of foresight. Chip is so focused on wanting to dig through the glass that she's not even thinking about what she would do next. Sometimes our drive and ambition takes us to a place where we don't really want to end up anyway.

Someone commented that she didn't want to be like Chip, wasting her efforts on the impossible. That isn't what bothers me about Chip's digging. My question to that person was: if you could succeed, would you be brave enough to take the next step anyway?

Galatians 1:10

I need to remind myself daily that I don't live for what other people think of me. Especially in this phase of my life, when it's easy to think other people have low opinions of my actions. It's so hard not to let little jabbing comments get under your skin.

I cling to Galatians 1:10: "Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ."

And then someone posted a quote on Facebook: "Don't like me? Cool, I don't wake up every day to impress you."

I want to have a Christian character full of gentleness and respect for others. If people don't like me because of real flaws in my character, then that's a different story. But if people judge me without knowing my motivations, that doesn't matter. I'm a servant of Christ, and that means I'm not trying to win the approval of the people around me.

If only I didn't need to remind myself of that so often.

Seek God and Live Righteously

Recently I read a verse I was very familiar with, in a version in which I don't recall reading it. It's Matthew 6:33, in the NLT, and it says, "Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need."

I'm more used to it in the KJV, because of the song "Seek Ye First." But reading this version struck me in a whole new way. Maybe it's because I'm such a to-do list type of person. The way this is phrased breaks it down into two simple steps.

1) Seek the Kingdom of God above all else
2) Live righteously

It is incredibly easy for me to get distracted by the things of this world. The things I want, the things I think I need. But I don't need to worry about any of that. I just need to seek God and live righteously. And the result? Everything I need. It doesn't say God will give me everything I want. It says he'll give me the things I need. Which are usually better than the things I thought I needed anyway.

So I hung this verse over my computer and am constantly reminding myself when I get distracted by the things of this world:
Seek God
Live righteously

Simple, eh?

Giving It Up

Here's a journal I wrote last January 13th, just four days before the layoffs at work. You see, we all knew they were coming, though I for one didn't anticipate the extent. But I did fear my own job security. And some emailed questions I'd been asked about my workload had me even more on the edge of my seat. Here's what I wrote in my journal:

This has all been weighing on my mind a lot. And it still is—but I've given it to God. I prayed about it the other day and I was praying about what happened at [my old job] and how I got so mad at God when all that happened. And I can look back at all that now and see how it had to be that way. He had to loosen me up in order to move me where he wanted me to be. So no matter what happens with this email (and maybe it's nothing), I want to trust in God's plan and his faithfulness.


Well I kept my job, but it wasn't easy saying goodbye many beloved co-workers. It wasn't an easy transition. And the other pitfalls of 2011 (not work-related) could've all driven me to that place of anger with God. But I think the reason my faith was strengthened, not weakened, throughout everything, was because I had committed it to him. I resolved before the bad things even started to trust God, even if I couldn't see the end.

That's how I want to continue to live. That's how I want to face anything 2012 throws my way. Anything the next however many years on this earth throw my way.

Complete

I'm currently reflecting on Psalm 103 for my Lectio Divina study. This morning I reflected on this section:

Praise the Lord, oh my soul
And forget not all his benefits
Who forgives all your sins
And heals all your diseases


As I reflected, one word jumped out at me. It's the word that is repeated the most in the passage: all. All his benefits. Forgives all my sins. Heals all my diseases.

I wrote next to this passage in my Bible: There's nothing about me God can't fix.

And I started thinking about the description of God as "All in All." As I seek to have God define me, I've started a craft project that I add to each day. On a piece of foam board, I write "Because God is..." and fill it in with something that struck me from my Bible reading. Then I glue a small 2 inch craft mirror to it and write on the mirror "I am..."

For today's I wrote, "Because God is my all in all...I am complete." I lack in nothing because of all of God's benefits in my life. He has forgiven all of my sins. He has healed all of my diseases. I am complete in him.

Fault

Dan and I are filing for divorce. To many, it may seem sudden. The truth is, it was a long time coming. We've tried counseling, we've tried to make it work, but we could just never get on the same page. I don't want kids; he does. Neither of us did a good job appreciating the other in the way they needed. And that, on top of other problems I don't need to get into on the internet, meant we just drifted further and further apart and fought more and more.

We've talked about divorce in the past. But when it came right down to it, we were kind of playing "relationship chicken." I think we both wanted the other to be the one to say they wanted a divorce. Because then we wouldn't have to own the marriage falling apart. (And I'm just speculating about Dan's side of this—but that was how I felt.) If it had been Dan's call I could say, "Dan decided to leave me" and not take the blame. In the end, it was a pretty mutual decision and I don't think you could pin it on either one of us.

And I realized that the whole relationship chicken thing was silly. Even if it had been all Dan's decision, that wouldn't have meant I was blameless. Relationships that end rarely do so solely because of one person. Usually, the blame is pretty close to 50/50, regardless of who calls it off.

I struggle with the guilt of this decision. I never thought I'd be in this boat. But like I said, we tried counseling, we tried for years to make this work. I feel like we made the only choice we had left.

It's not a bitter divorce. I still have a love for Dan and want the best for him. And he has said he'll always have a place in his heart for me. It's just not enough. Among other things, we were never the right fit for each other, and once the blinders came off that became evident very quickly.

So, that's that. I am relieved in a sense, for all of this unhealthiness to just be done with. I'm also sad that we couldn't make it work. Sad that I broke a vow I made to Dan and to God. Sad that we didn't see the red flags 5 years ago. I'm both scared and excited about being single again. There are things I'm excited about, like not having to pick up dirty socks off the floor, and things I dread, like having to go down in the crawl space. (Spiders—black widows, even?)

What we had wasn't healthy for anyone. I felt daily like I was shrinking—my self-esteem, my ability to be myself, my joy. Dan felt similarly about being himself around me.

Dan isn't a terrible guy. I'm not angry, I'm not bitter. I'm thankful for the way he has supported me and encouraged me to pursue my dreams and come to Group. I really do want him to finish school and be successful in life. I want him to be happy. And I believe he wants that for me.

We've been friendly and mature throughout this whole process, which has made a world of difference. As we decided how to split things, we didn't really fight over anything. He extended the offer for me to keep the puppies, and he's willing to watch them if I'm out of town. I even had him read this before I posted it, because I respect him and didn't want to post anything about this that would bother him. (He said he agrees with all my sentiments.)

My goal in all of this (which I plan to post about later in more detail) was that I'd never be able to look back on this time with regrets about how I treated Dan. I didn't want to think ten years from now, "Wow, I was a jerk" or "How immature I was..." And so far, overall, I feel like we can both say we have treated each other with kindness and respect. If divorce has to happen, that's the way it should be.

2011 In Review

The past year was a roller coaster of emotions in my life. I mean, I'm all for real roller coasters. Millenium Force? Bring it. And I went on that this year too. But the roller coaster of 2011 is one I'm glad to get off, and hope I didn't line up to ride it again in 2012.

I guess the roller coaster really started at the end of 2010, when my Dad had to have emergency heart surgery, followed by an induced coma for over a week as he recovered. Sitting in the hospital for a week, wondering if he'd ever get well enough to be awoken, seemed a lot longer than a week. Wondering if, when he did wake up, his memories and brain functioning would be fully in tact. It was very trying. But at the same time, looking back, there are pieces of it I miss. Our family grew a lot closer during that time. I worked some from the hospital, and one of my sisters left for a few days to go back to her job in Connecticut, but mostly it was just a time to focus on supporting each other and praying for my Dad.

Ringing in 2011 was great. It marked one month since December 1st, when my Dad had his surgery. And they said after one month he was out of the biggest risk zone. What a great way to celebrate the new year! I also rang in the new year by winning a Macbook at my company's Bombastic Bingo Bash. Also great!

But within a few weeks the year had taken an unwanted twist. I survived a big layoff at my job. And while I was grateful to keep my job, I lost a lot of my closest friends and co-workers. Since the layoff, I've stayed in touch with some of them, but it hasn't been the same. And I was also filled with angst and uncertainty about my own job. I had a new supervisor, new responsibilities, and a whole lot more on my plate than I'd had before. Without the support of my closest co-workers, I didn't know if I could handle it. 

Fast forward to March. A high: we got a new puppy! Biscuit was a great addition to the family, and a definite "oops puppy." When will I learn that it is not a good idea to stop by a pet store "just to play with the puppies"? And even though I love him like crazy now, there was a little bit of mourning when we got him. Mourning for the special bond I had with Peanut. Buttercup and I had a bond that was more on a soul-level. We just understood each other. But Peanut and I, our bond was based on the fun we had together. Now with Biscuit in the way, I was sad to lose those special moments with just her.

The day after we got Biscuit, the roller coaster came to a big drop: Peanut had to go to the ER vet for unstoppable vomiting. And after a day in the ER, we had to make the call for her to have stomach surgery. It was scary and I wondered if she would come out of it OK. 

She did, but the next couple of weeks were quite trying. We had a house-training puppy who didn't know how to use the stairs yet, a recovering-from-surgery dog who was nuts but wasn't supposed to be running or jumping, and an older dog on five different medicines. Midnight potty runs, constant monitoring, preparing three different kinds of food; it felt a bit like having a real baby. It was exhausting.

And little did I know those few weeks would be the last for one very special member of our family. In April, we lost Buttercup when her heart just gave out. For me, this was the final emotional straw. Buttercup had been a part of my life since my freshman year of high school. And like I said above, she and I connected on such a deep level. When she died, I felt like a part of me died. 

The year continued without any major life changes for a while, until a happy event in October: I got a promotion at work! I was (and still am) excited for this new opportunity to grow in my career at Group.

But something else happened in October, later that week: Dan and I decided to get a divorce. For some of you, this may come as news. It wasn't a shock to us; it was a mutual decision made after years of trying to deal with the problems in our marriage. But after one more stab at counseling failed, we realized we were both done. 

November and December were a bit awkward for us both as we continued to live together. At the end of December, Dan moved out. And so I began 2012 with only one family member who'd rung in 2011 with me: Peanut. In 2011 I gained Biscuit and lost Dan and Buttercup. 

I learned a lot in 2011. Humility, grace, gratitude, selflessness. But the thing that really sticks out is summed up in this verse: "Many are the plans in a person's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails" (Proverbs 19:21).

All the planning in the world couldn't have prepared me for what 2011 would bring, good and bad. But unlike in the past when unexpected twists have made me angry at God, I've felt like 2011 brought me closer than ever to him. As life made its ups and downs, I clung to the fact that my life is in his hands. I cling to him daily, and he has filled me with so much joy and peace despite everything.

Was it an easy year? No. But easy years don't yield nearly the spiritual fruit that this year did. God's plans are good for our hearts, even if they come with tears along the way. (But like I said in the intro...I'm still hoping I'm off this ride for 2012!)

Redecorating

I've been in the process of redecorating my house. Every two weeks (on pay day), I can get one or two more things to complete the renovation. I'm getting close to finishing.

So, with all of the redecorating on my mind, the word "adorns" struck me as I reflected on this verse: "Holiness adorns your house for endless days, O Lord" (Psalm 93:6).

I'm not saying we should all give up on trying to fill our homes with decor that we find aesthetically pleasing. But as I've been redecorating, have I given any thought into how holiness might adorn my home?

It's hard for me to envision what this actually looks like. What is it about God's home in heaven that looks holy? And, since I am lacking in his perfect holiness and merely striving to be holy, how can I capture a glimpse of that in my home?

It won't come from any paintings or furniture or floor vases. It will come from my life being so full of God that his holiness shines through me. Not just in my home, but at work, at Walmart...everywhere I go. It is my prayer that my life will be adorned with holiness.

Peace

The first day I started reflecting on Psalm 93, this line from verse 1 jumped out to me and filled me with peace: "The world is firmly established, it cannot be moved."

So often the world feels like it's just a stormy chaos. I mean not the physical earth, but my world. It sometimes feels like it's just bouncing around aimlessly. Like nothing is certain.

So when I read this verse I thought, "I just need to have the faith that God has my world in his hands. That even when it seems out of control, it cannot be moved from God's control."

And I started to think about when Jesus calmed the storm. It certainly seemed like the disciples' world was out of control. They said with confidence, "we're going to drown!" But the world wasn't out of control for Jesus. With a simple rebuke, there was peace again.

This is the kind of peace we can have. Even when we don't have a lot of faith - that was something Jesus pointed out about the disciples. Though he'd rather have had them believe, he brought peace to their world anyway.

When it seems like your world is spiraling out of control, remember: it is firmly established. It cannot be moved.

God's Number

When my family was all gathered around for one of our pre-Christmas meals, my four-year old nephew Wesley asked, "What's God's number?"

We tried to figure out what he meant. Phone number? No. Weight? No. With each guess he just kept saying, "No, his NUMBER."

Finally my sister had the smarts to ask, "Wesley, what's your number?"

"Four."

"So you want to know how old God is?" Wesley nodded. "God doesn't have a number, because he was never born."

Wesley accepted this answer, and we moved on. But as I was mediating recently on Psalm 93, this line from verse 2 stuck out to me: "You are from all eternity." One thing I do when I reflect on Scripture is try to picture it. The Lord reigns? Pictureable. Robed in majesty? Pictureable. Armed with strength? Pictureable. But from all eternity? It struck me how incomprehensible this truly is.

I don't know if Wesley moved on because his childlike faith just accepted the answer his mom had given him, or if he was bored since we'd taken so long to figure out what he was even asking. But I know that incomprehensible things often trip adults up in their faith. How can you believe in a God with no number? That's why the Israelites so often turned to idols. These were tangible gods they could understand completely. They had a beginning - a beginning the Israelites themselves had given!

But when I really stop to think about it, I'm glad there are things about God that we can't picture or understand. If God was small enough to fit inside my feeble brain, he wouldn't be much of a God, would he?

Lectio Divina

I've spent the past two years reading through the Bible using the God Sightings website. And yes, it is a one year plan. I did a slow track where I missed half of the days.

Reading through the Bible in a year (or two) is a great way to get a big picture view of the Bible. You see how everything ties together. You read stories you must've read before (if you've read the Bible entirely before), but you forgot they were in there. You find surprises that make you say, "Wow! That's in the Bible?!"

But having gotten that 10,000 foot view, I've dedicated this year to getting a magnifying glass view instead. I want to spend this year pulling out small passages of Scripture and soaking them in. Really taking my time reading and meditating on them. And to do this, I'm using a method of Scripture meditation based off of Lectio Divina.

I don't know if I'm following the steps quite exactly. But this is what I'm doing: I'm choosing a passage that's fairly short. 5 or 6 verses max. I begin by just being still for a minute or two. Trying to clear my mind of all the distractions that often come when I'm reading the Bible or praying. Thoughts about work, and to-do list items, potential Facebook statuses, and how cute my dogs are. (Their cuteness is a big distraction in general.)

Once I am ready to focus on God, I read through the whole passage, slowly, a couple of times. Then I just do a couple verses, however long I feel like is good to digest. I read those verses over and over, and then I have time where I just listen to God. I pray that he will show me what he wants me to understand from those verses. Then I read them again a couple times, and pray about them, talking to God about them - whether that's praise, confession, or a prayer that he will work in my life that pertains to the verses.

I'm starting with Psalm 93. The first several passages I choose will be based on wanting to allow God to define me this year, and I want to be defined in terms of who he is. Psalm 93 is full of descriptions of God. So far I'm getting a lot out of it. And each day during this time, one thing I meditate on is what one of the descriptions says about me. I have a craft project involving mirrors that I'm making based on these reflections. (Ha! Mirrors...reflections!)

It's very different than the fire hose method of reading Scripture in a year. I think it's nice to switch things up. And a great bonus to Lectio Divina - you memorize Scripture without even meaning to! Just by reading it so many times and reflecting on it, the words are in your head. So then when you're driving or whatever, you can ponder the words some more.

2011 Resolutions

If you don't want to read this one, I totally understand. I just wanted to take the time to evaluate how I did with my 2011 resolutions.

General goals:

• See the good in everyone (my only non-measurable goal) I think I tried to do this pretty well.
• Read the other half of the Bible Finished 12/31/11!
• Write my next book Oopsies. Well I did write like 10 pages.
• Learn the mountain peaks viewable from Loveland I learned 2. The two obvious ones. 
• Read 5 or more classics (Ethan Frome, Old Man and the Sea, Frankenstein, The Time Machine, and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea) I started this. I read The Time Machine and started Frankenstein. I was so bored by both books that I decided to scrap this goal.
• Read 3 or more non-fiction books (Road to Reality, Captivating by Eldrege, The Me I Want to Be by Ortberg) Didn't read any of these.

Weekly goals:

• Blog at least 5x/week I wrote 166 blogs in the year. I was going pretty strong until April, when Buttercup passed away. That really knocked a lot out of me.
• Work out 3x/week In August I started running almost daily - I'd say most weeks I hit more like 5x a week!
• Write a devotional/week Again...going strong until April. Since my devotionals were originally inspired by Buttercup, and then I added the other dogs as inspiration, it was too painful to work on this. I picked it up again in November or so.

Monthly goals:

• Bake desserts instead of buying them at least once per month Umm...I like Oreos. And ice cream. And Grasshoppers. So this was a dumb goal.

Be

I decided to do something a little different for this year's resolutions. In the past few years I've set a bunch of tangible goals to achieve that year. And I've generally met or come close to meeting about half of them, which I count as success. It's more than I would've done without any goals.

But 2011 was a year of so many unexpected things, some good, many bad. It was a year of change. And as I thought ahead to 2012, I realized my plans don't come to anything without a steadfast devotion to God. I prayed last night, as I drove home from the bingo bash at work, that no matter what this year holds, no matter what I lose or gain, that God will help me go through it with faithfulness, endurance, and unswerving love for him.

And as I thought about what I want to accomplish this year, I didn't think of tangible, measurable goals. I thought about some of the blogs I've written lately and who I want to be. So these are my two resolutions:

Be you.

Be first.

The "be you" resolution relates to the blog I wrote a couple weeks ago, "Come Define Me." My sister has challenged me to embrace my pickiness. It's not a sinful thing, and it's a part of how God made me. And as my Come Define Me blog indicated, I've been thinking about a lot of ways I haven't been the person God created me to be, letting others define me instead. This year I want to work on letting God define me. That's not to say I won't work to change the sinful parts of me. But I want to embrace the person he made me to be. I want to embrace who I am in relation to who he is.

I love this quote from Rob Bell: "You be you. Don't be somebody else, we already have one of them." So that's what I resolve to do this year. Be me.

The "be first" one means I want to be first in the kingdom of heaven. I blogged about that recently, too. And when my nephew (age 4) was talking about wanting to be first this Christmas, I said to him, "You know what? Jesus had a secret for always getting to be first. You want to hear it?" His eyes lit up. "Yeah!"

"Put everyone else before you. Jesus sees it backwards. So if you put yourself last every time, you're really first!"

I want to be first where it counts this year. I want to lose my attitude of entitlement and serve God humbly, being last in this world so as to be first where it counts.