Here is My Servant

As a woman who has been a part of churches most of my life, I have spent a great deal of time over the last decade asking God, “What is church supposed to look like?” “What am I missing?” 

I can’t seem to dig deep enough to perform in any capacity within the four walls.

What once felt “right” hasn’t felt right for a very long time. In a nutshell, my stage presence has gone from the girl spinning plates center stage— to zero stage presence.

Thank goodness.

Being raised under a roof where the unspoken mantra was “those who don’t work don’t eat,” it has been difficult trying to acclimate into church without wearing my performance garb. It’s like a chocoholic who finally reaches the breaking point of no longer being able to tolerate even the sight of chocolate. My performance addiction has led me to seeking God like never before for answers on how to BE the body of Christ—His church.

Yesterday I read about Jesus washing His disciple’s feet. I’ve read this scripture in John dozens of times (Jn. 13:12-17). When He finished washing their feet He asked them, “Do you understand what I have done for you?”

He continues, “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. I tell you the truth, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.” (vs. 13-17)

We are reminded in Matthew 20:28, “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” And in Phil 2:6-7 we read: “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant.”

In a prophecy spoken through the prophet Isaiah, God shares both the identity and the mission of His Son, “Here is my servant whom I have chosen, the one I love, in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations.” (Mt. 12:18)

Performance is not now, nor has it ever been, what our Father is asking from us. Neither within or outside of the church walls. Instead, He is asking us to follow the example of Jesus by living a life poured out in service to Him.

When Saul gets knocked to the ground on the road to Damascus the Lord says to him, “Now get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant…” (Acts 26:16)

Interesting to note in later scriptures how Paul describes himself when addressing different audiences, “I, Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus.” (Rom. 1:1) Paul understood something very counter-cultural even in his day—there is no greater honor than to be considered a servant of Christ. 

Paul’s desire to live as a servant of Christ is evident not only in word but in how he lived his life no longer for himself but for Christ: “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.” (Gal. 1:10)

Being a healthy, functioning servant within the walls of a church does not require us to perform. We are not trying to please men. Instead, we are called to serve God and to serve one another with a heart of humility in lieu of a to-do list of impressive performances.

With this new revelation permeating my own heart; my desire to serve both within the church as well as in my community has never been greater. We don’t need to dig deep within our own selves to find motivation—we just need to open the Word and follow the example of Christ.

Therefore, as servants of Christ: “Now that we know these things we will be blessed if we do them!”

Stay the Course…

Sheila

Let Incense Arise

A week ago after Sunday church service, my husband and I drove to Anchorage and took a walk along the inlet.

I don’t know why it’s easier to be completely honest when walking alongside a person rather than sitting across from him or her. Perhaps it’s the lack of eye contact or the beauty of God’s creation surrounding every breath. Either way, I had an honest moment.

“I haven’t opened my Bible in weeks.” I confessed. “Summer has been so busy, and working long days in real estate has taken a toll on me.” Before he could speak I kept going, probably trying to convince myself more than I was trying to convince my husband, all the reasons why I felt so far away from God.

When I stopped talking, my husband did something that he does often—using as few words as necessary, he simply stated, “God hasn’t stepped away from you. Draw near to Him and He will draw near to you.” (James 4:8)

Duh.

Everybody knows that.

For a girl who has always felt that acceptance is connected and interwoven with performance, the thought of simply entering the throne of grace with nothing impressive to show for myself—well, I wasn’t sure if I could break through the good girl performance barrier. In my head I knew that my husband was right; but my heart  couldn’t grasp the simplicity of his statement. 

I pondered our conversation.

Yesterday I met with a trusted friend. We sat in my jeep in the rain and prayed together. The presence of the Spirit permeated the jeep reaching into my heart and into the recesses of my soul. 

I did not deserve to be met in such an intimate way; I had done NOTHING to earn the audience of my Father. So I simply surrendered and rested in His presence. Peace replaced confusion. Love replaced fear. Acceptance replaced doubt. 

Who can fathom the depths of His love?  (Eph. 3:16-19)

Sometime during the night I had a dream. In the dream I was still at the feet of the throne. Over and over I sang part of a worship song called Worthy of It All, “Day and night, night and day, let incense arise. Day and night, night and day let incense arise.” 

When I awoke from the dream, my heart was still singing this song in worship. All day, through meetings and appointments, the song is playing within me even while I am functioning in the world around me.

Our prayers, like incense, rise from our hearts to the heavens as a sweet aroma to our Father. Day and night, night and day. Even as we sleep, our prayers…rising like incense. 

He never sleeps nor slumbers (Psalm 121:2). 

His eyes are ever watching —ever beholding each one of us. Even when we have nothing but our bedraggled selves to bring before His presence; He runs to welcome us—His beloved.

The sweet aroma of our prayers brings a smile to His face and joy to His heart. 

We don’t have to understand; we simply need to believe.

“May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice.” (Psalm 41:2)

Stay the Course…

Sheila

Weeping Willow

(I wrote this short blog many years ago for a group of people dealing with hurts and wounds from past traumatic events. Looking back, I see God's faithfulness, goodness and healing so beautifully displayed in the lives of those who bow before Him in complete surrender.)

She bends over, bowed at the knee.  Her back is arched as her hair and arms bend to the ground.  It is both a sad and a beautiful sight to behold – that of Weeping Willow.  

There is no hiding for Weeping Willow.  God made Willow to be tall and magnificent in spite of her great sorrows and weaknesses.  She cannot run and hide; she was created as a picture of beauty in weakness.  She is not put together like the mighty oak that stands at attention with strong leaves clinging closely.  Instead, her loose branches sway to and fro in the wind; scattering leaves tumultuously all around that drop slowly from bowed branches.

Willow is a sight to behold.  She is strong, and she is humble.  

I have great respect for Weeping Willow.  She has shown me that true grief and weeping can produce beauty beyond description.  Many people view her as large and messy, but I embrace her willingness to be true to her unique design.  

I have never embraced grief or sadness.  I have looked on it as shameful, viewed it as weakness.  Yet, as I stare at Willow, I see only beauty and strength.  Could grieving and sadness produce such beauty in my own life?  Could I give myself permission to be broken and messy without excuse, knowing that sorrow and suffering, in time, produce peace and joy?

It’s hard to believe in the middle of sorrow and suffering that our grief produces songs of joy; but that’s exactly what we are told in Psalm 126:5 & 6 (NIV), “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.  He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him.”

Perhaps Weeping Willow is a visual reminder to us all of our great need for a God who promises to be “close to the brokenhearted and save those who are crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18 NIV).  It’s when we bow our knees and bend our hearts that we can most clearly hear the voice of the One who knit us together in our mother’s womb and created our inmost being.

Though I do not know how long Weeping Willow must weep, she appears unfaltering in her posture and unhurried in her grief.  

So I, too, will maintain this posture of worship as I sit still in my own grief, not hiding myself away during a painful, messy, tumultuous, beautiful season.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

And Just Like That...

I have a very good friend who for the past twenty plus years has been a constant in my world. We no longer live geographically close yet our hearts remain connected across the miles. When one of us is going through something, either good or bad, a simple phone call requires no small talk —we get right down to the issue at hand.

Recently, as she has re-entered being a part of the body of Christ, the Spirit has revealed an area of her heart requiring attention: forgiveness. She has withheld forgiveness toward several people in her world who over the years have hurt her deeply, including but not limited to family members. Because of our constant friendship; I know the back story to every single hurt. I have watched the walls of self-protection slowly erect until at last she had not only isolated her heart from those who had hurt her, but she had also stopped going to church altogether. 

Forgiveness. She called not too long ago with questions about how to forgive a person who had caused so much pain. I’ll be honest, talking to a person about forgiveness has a way of bringing old memories to surface as well as shining a spotlight into areas of one’s own heart where forgiveness has not yet been given. 

We read in Mark 11:24 “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.”

Our Father, who knows the heart of man, reiterates throughout His Word the importance and absolute necessity of forgiveness. When Jesus teaches us how to pray, forgiveness is key: “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” (Mt. 6:12)  A verse later he takes it a step deeper, “For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Mt. 6:14-15)

Unforgiveness has been linked to sickness and death; forgiveness is linked to vitality and health being restored to one’s body and mind. 

Jesus, our perfect example, taught us how to forgive by how He lived. He also taught us how to forgive by how He died. In one of His final breaths on the cross He prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Lk. 23:34)

Though He had done nothing wrong, Jesus forgave those who sinned against Him-every one of us. Because of His love for us and the Spirit He has given each one of us who believe, we too are able to choose love through forgiveness.  If we are willing to forgive, God will always provide us with opportunities to do so.

Because of the time zone difference between my friend and myself, I often wake up to texts from her. This morning I awoke to a text regarding a person she had not spoken to in years whom she knew she needed to forgive. She did not know how to go about initiating contact with him, yet this morning they both happened to be at the same place at the same time. She approached him to ask if they could do coffee soon, which he eagerly accepted. Her text ended with, “And just like that…”

Stay the Course…

Sheila

Are You The Wrist?

(In my desperation to understand the purpose of church, this is written for myself and for others who have been hurt by church and want to turn and run. Please don’t go—I really need you.)

Yesterday morning after what appeared to be a normal night of sleep, I awoke to pain in my left wrist and forearm. Range of motion for my hand was minimal. Having a busy day ahead, I took a couple Advil and headed out the door.

For several hours I was able to ignore the dull pain in my wrist but as the day wore on the pain became intolerable.

During the night, the intense pain woke me until at last I awoke my husband and he prayed over me. 

“What are you feeling?” he asked so that he would know best how to pray for me. 

After some time I recognized that beyond the pain and nauseousness was a “knowing” I have felt many times over the years: “This is spiritual” I stated very matter-of-fact. And so my husband confronted the realm of darkness hovering over my body.

Eventually peace filled our bedroom and my husband drifted back to sleep. 

This morning over coffee, I sat nursing my sore wrist, unable to move my left arm. 

“Isn’t it odd how when one part of the body hurts, it affects every part of the body?” I said without much thought.

Then, my husband shared that my useless left arm made him think of the scripture about the church being one body but many parts. How each part, no matter how seemingly insignificant, is vital to the overall health of the body—this reminder hit me like a ton of bricks. 

In my very recent struggles and attempts to understand “church” and feeling like my small part made no difference; I had decided that staying away from the church might be the best solution for a wounded ragamuffin like myself. A spiritual battle ensued as the forces of darkness never miss an opportunity to snatch a child of God.

My heart felt heavy with the truth of his words.

We read in I Corinthians, “The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; and though all its parts are many, they form one body. So it is with Christ…Now the body is not made up of one part but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.” (I Corinthians 12: 12-20)

Right now, I would be filled with gratitude if the left wrist would show up and function as it was intended to function. Are you the wrist? You are necessary for the body. Though seemingly insignificant, you cannot cease to be a part of the body. Without the left wrist, the entire left arm is rendered useless, which in turn affects the entire body.

Wounded pride refuses to allow the body of Christ to help when struggling and hurting. It is in humility (and great pain!) I recognize I am unable to survive without the support of the body. To be cut off from the body would bring death to my Spirit and my purpose in Christ. 

If you, like myself, struggle to understand church and its purpose--I want to tell you that I need you. You matter to me, to the body, and mostly to Christ.  I won’t abandon you anymore than I would abandon my own foot. You may not know it, but you need me too.

“Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.” (I Corinthians 12:27)

Stay the Course…

Sheila

It's Not Too Late (And You're Not Too Old)

The other day as I was looking for a code I had stored in my phone to enter a building, I found a completely unrelated note I had written to myself: “It’s Not Too Late And You’re Not Too Old.”

I can’t remember the circumstances leading up to me writing myself that note a couple years ago (perhaps an indication that I am getting just a tad old!), but the personal word of encouragement came at just the right time.

If you are anything like me; not allowing our minds to conform to what the world tells us can be a challenge. However, we are instructed in the Word that we are to be in the world but not of the world. We are referred to as foreigners in a foreign land. God’s Word is full of stories of men and women who did not allow circumstances or age to stand in the way of being obedient to God’s call on his or her life.

The first book of the Bible introduces us to such a person. 

Abram (Later given the name Abraham) was a successful rancher when the Lord said, “Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.” (Gen. 12:1) Abram was seventy-five years old when God sent him away with this promise, “I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.” (Gen. 12:2&3)

Abram obeyed because he trusted God, but that doesn’t mean that he wasn’t afraid. When God made a covenant with Abram, He first spoke a word of encouragement: “Do not be afraid, Abram. I am your shield, your very great reward.” (Gen. 15:1)

Abraham was ninety nine years old when God promised to give him and his wife Sarah a child. When Sarah heard the news, she laughed to herself. Then the Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Will I really have a child, now that I am old? Is anything too hard for the Lord?” (Gen.18:13)

When life becomes difficult and dreams feel as cold as the dead of winter, our Father whispers, “Do not be afraid, it’s not too late and you’re not too old. Is anything too hard for the Lord?” 

Abraham’s life was not easy. God tested his faith greatly. Even when asked to sacrifice his only son, Abraham’s love for God did not run dry. Because of Abraham’s obedience, God promised “through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you obeyed me.” (Gen.11:18)

I pray we can encourage one another in our faith as we press on through the difficult seasons of our lives when we feel that it is too late and we are too old. 

God has placed us where we are to reach those who do not yet know Him. Our lives and the lives of our offspring are in the hands of a God who has not forgotten us and who will fulfill His promises in our lives as we press on step by step in obedience.

God is our shield and our very great reward.

Stay the Course…

Sheila 

We Are All The Same

(This blog was written quite a few years ago and never shared. Whether or not you are a runner; this blog is referencing the human race which we are all partakers in! Let's make sure to not only focus on our own lives but to also look beside and behind us so that we can all cross the finish line!!!)

Last weekend I ran in a 10k city race.

With almost 400 runners at the start line; I surveyed the crowd of men and women of various ages, sizes and shapes.

As the race got underway, each person eventually found their place in the pack of runners until at last there was a rhythm to the race.  

You never know who you may end up running next to, or if you’ll run beside anyone at all.  Paces vary, ebbing and flowing, as each mile of the race takes its toll on a runner.  

For part of the race, I found myself running next to a man who was tall, and perhaps a little older than me.  And that is all I can tell you about him.  We acknowledged each other without words, as our eyes met.  His perseverance motivated me, giving me strength; and I believe that my presence strengthened him as well.  

I didn’t know his name, what he did for a living, or whether or not he was married or had children.  I didn’t care.  The feeling was mutual.  I realized something that we all know, but tend to forget over time; we are all the same.  Sure, we may look different, act different and have different backgrounds, but when it comes right down to it: we are the same.

In a running event, the rules change, as no title or amount of money earned gives one person an advantage over another.

Instead, each person is running for a personal purpose, pushing his or her body for one reason or another from the start line all the way through to the finish line.  

As I ran beside Tall Man, we passed other runners and other runners passed us.  At one point in the race I came upon a young man I had known for many years who had stopped running and was walking.  “Come on, you can do it.” I puffed as I ran past him.  “Okay, if you say so.” He responded, and he suddenly began to run again.  

We are all the same.  We all need to be encouraged and we all need to give encouragement.  Even without knowing each other’s names, we can speak life to another. Lies which tell us we are not strong enough to run a race of endurance flee with a single hope-filled word.  

We are all people who sweat, huff and puff, and run with our own form and style.  And we are all people who can choose to respect each other regardless athleticism or the lack thereof.  

Our journey is taking us to the same place for as many different reasons as there are different personalities.  Our goal is to see to it that we all finish our individual races and that we all finish the race corporately.  We run for reasons we wrestle with in our own hearts, and cheer for those who run ahead, beside and behind.

Sometimes friendships are forged through labored breathing on the trail, although words may or may not be spoken.   

And at the end of the race, when all have crossed the finish line, it is clear to each runner that we all needed one another to finish strong.  

We are all the same.

Stay the Course…

Sheila