Refreshing Weekend

We are having just about the best weekend ever. It's our first weekend in over a month that we are both home and we have no real commitments to speak of, so our family of three is just enjoying each other's company. Garage sale shopping. Park play. Walks. Sushi. Pizza. World cup watching. Breakfast in bed for father's day. Long naps. Pool time. Friend time. All topped off with the tangible presence of the Holy Ghost and it is one that can't be beat.

I feel the JOY of the Lord so much! Honestly, last Sunday was pentecost Sunday and nothing really dramatic happened at our church service, but I walked away lighter and more peaceful than I have been in months. Then this weekend I felt butterflies in my chest and warmth on my face all throughout worship and I KNOW that Jesus was closer than my skin in that very moment. A feel a personal and maybe even a corporate revival stirring in my heart and out of that a strong desire to do bold things and to love the people around me. Not just be like Jesus, but BE Jesus to my friends, family, neighbors.

Like the river in Ezekiel 47 that streams east out of the temple into the land getting deeper and deeper as it flows out and turning salt water, marshes, and swamps into fresh pools of water, so will God's love and spirit be in me. No more shallow stagnant water here. But a fresh stream that flows out of me refresh and touch others with your peace and abundant life.

Oh, and happy father's day to my awesome Papa and my wonderful husband. 

WLWL: When the Going Gets Tough

Being a worship leader is hard sometimes. I know I am called to it. I know I am skilled in it. I know the Lord has and will continue to use me in the the place of musical worship for the rest of my life. Even if it's just in small groups or for my mediate family. Singing praises to God is ingrained in the deepest part of my soul. 

But every now and then this place of leadership in congregational worship is hard. So hard it makes me question if I should just give it a rest for a season. Let someone else take over for a while. Throw in the towel and see what it's like to saunter in 10 minutes late to service, Starbucks in hand, well rested, and grab a seat in the last row. Maybe even leaving on my sunglasses.

The reason behind these passing desires nine times out of ten can be summed up in one word. Insecurity.

I start to second guess the identity that I am a daughter of the King. I second guess that I'm called. That I'm any good. I begin to feel inadequate and unskilled. And being in Music City I can easily conjure up excuses in my head that there are others out there who are better.

It gets pretty dark from there. 

Well a few weeks ago I started down one of these paths in my head and I was moments from calling up my pastor and telling him I was going to step down for a season (blame it on motherhood busyness). I actually told God - "Why is this so hard right now? You need to encourage me! Where are you?" 

Then I grabbed my phone and lo and behold...a text message from my pastor. Essentially it said that he was preaching on being a people that say "yes" to God. And I immediately knew it was the Lord telling me - you aren't going to quit. And even though this isn't the back stroking encouragement you wanted right now...you need to know that I am calling you to this and you need to say yes.

It felt like a direct order from the Lord on high. It was bizarre. I was actually a little peeved, because I didn't want an order...i wanted someone to tell me how awesome of a worship leader how God used me to change their life, etc, etc. 

But the message was received.

So I continue to press on. Even when I am exhausted. Even when I struggle to find time and energy to create a set. When my fingers are too sore to play through the ministry time songs. When rehearsals fall apart and leave me on the verge of tears. When the devil tries to lie his way into crushing my call.

And in pushing through I find Jesus closer than before. Speaking encouragement. I'm only at the beginning of journey. He is just getting started with how he will uses me in the ways of musical worship. And I'm so glad that even in my weakness he pursues and calls after my heart once again.

I Will Not Be Shaken

The windows rattled and the wind howled as lightening lit up and sky and flashed though wooden slats of the nursery blinds. The strobe light effect and a hot muggy house kept Felix restless during his usually peaceful nighttime routine

I nursed my wiggly little boy and his sweaty skin stuck to my arm and eyes struggled to find sleep in the midst of the storm. He could sense my tension. He could feel my body stiffen every time the windows shook and his hand wandered up to my cheek pulling my gaze back down to his wide open eyes instead of trying to sneak a peak at the weather alerts on my phone or out the window at the swirling trees.

He was worried because I was worried. I did my best to relax. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the back of the rocker. A deep breath in and I began to sing a tried and true lullaby over him.

Down in the valley; the valley so low
hang your head over; hear the wind blow

He calmed and his eyes closed. I felt his breathing slow to a steady and slow rhythm and I let my mind wander gently stoking the back of his hand and letting my fingers dance around his still bald head, cheek and ear. He calmed as I calmed. He mimicked me. He followed my lead. In the eye of the storm his heart posture was reflecting mine. As his mother, care taker, the one he trusts most - if she is OK, I'm OK.

I thought about how nice that must be. How nice it would be to have someone leading you. Someone from whom you could take cues and be put at ease because they have it under control. You have that in loving parents as a child, but children grow up. Move away. Have lives of their own. And along with those lives comes decisions, questions, adversity, storms. It's hard.

The past few days I have had this heavy feeling looming over me. I can't shake it. I feel hopeless, useless, worthless and bored. It's taken a toll on my family and altered the peaceful home we usually have. I hate it. Sometimes I can see the bad mood from a distance drift like a dark storm cloud looming and other times it hits so quickly no one has the chance to prepare. The wreckage of a blow-out fight leaving days of me picking through wreckage.

And in the pit of this self-loathing and lashing out I was reminded of a verse I recently read that spoke to my heart and I read it again.

Psalm 16:5-11 

Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup;
 

you make my lot secure.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    

surely I have a delightful inheritance.

I will praise the Lord, who counsels me;
    

even at night my heart instructs me. 

I keep my eyes always on the Lord.
    

With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;
    

my body also will rest secure,

because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead,
    

nor will you let your faithful one see decay.

You make known to me the path of life;
    

you will fill me with joy in your presence,
    

with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

I DO have someone leading me. Someone who I can rest in. I can grab his face and pull his eye to mine and listen to his lullaby over me. His singing over me. I will find Joy and a path of life in his presence!

Jesus.

It is always him. He is the ONLY thing I can boast in. He is my leader. My Peace. My lover. My friend. My comfort. My redeemer. My Everything.

WLWL: When Things Don't Go As Planned

A few weeks ago the perfect storm happened.

The week leading up to that Sunday I was on a little family vacation to the beach. I had mentally prepared the set and just needed to throw it into WorshipTeam.com adjust the keys and notify the team. Late afternoon on Thursday I sent it out. Friday I heard from my pastor that there was a last minute addition of communion and kids blessing (for the start of the school year) and my pastor wanted to do an "up" song after the blessing right before his message. So after getting home from my trip on Saturday, the night before the service I was rearranging the set, adding in new songs and changing up a couple of the keys. Apologizing profusely to the team sending out a totally new set at 8:30 PM the night before. (I try to rarely spring things like this on them)

The morning I was leading worship Josh and I followed our usual routine of Felix night nursing up till about 7:00AM. Then I nurse him right before I leave for rehearsal, however this week, I didn't feed Felix before I left for church. I was running late. I needed to print charts and I was already rethinking the new set...4 songs or 5?

Rehearsal was a bit bumpy, and that was to be expected. We landed on a 4 song set (which I flow better with anyway) and completely cutting the "up" song after the blessing. People trickled in around 10 and we started a bit late around 10:05. I really felt the presence strongly. I knew God was stirring something in my heart and in the heart of the congregation as we lingered in sweet moments of faith and praise.

Normally I find a nice cord progression to float through and sing prayers over the congregation in these open moments. Except that morning my fingers kept sticking. Didn't want to move and change cords and even in spite of my limited guitar skills The Spirit continued to move sweetly.

After worship Josh and I decided since Felix was in a good mood we should put him in the Nursery for the first time. The message was good but towards the end I started feeling antsy. it was 11:30 and I knew Felix hadn't nursed since 7:30. I knew he would be hungry. Then I heard it. The shrill panicky cry of my son coming from the nursery. He was hungry and angry.

I darted out the back door of the sanctuary knowing I had a very limited time before I needed to lead worship for communion. Wailing with big tears running down his face I grabbed Felix and headed to the nursing room. There was a dad with his daughter in there and Felix was in such a state that I really needed alone time with my little man. I ran to the bathroom, leaned against the wall and pulled my son to my breast.

Just as he started nursing I heard the music start up in the sanctuary. I needed to be on stage that very moment. In an instant I evaluated my options. Let my son cry or head in to lead songs during communion. I stayed. Knowing the team could handle a few moments with out me.  2-3 more minutes Felix calmed down and pulled off with a big smile on his face. Super stressed I left the restroom and handed my Felix to Josh.

I scrambled up the side of the stage grabbed my guitar and quietly flowed into the song that the team was playing. During the song I couldn't focus. I kept wanting to cry thinking about my son who was cut short on his nursing session. Even though I knew he was happy, I felt like a bad mom. I felt like a bad leader. I felt like half of my heart was in each place. Ultimately I found a good time in between songs to scoot over to Kitty and tell her I needed to go care for Felix. The ministry time was winding down and my family had to come first in the moment.

Lessons learned. The team can indeed function without me, but having a backup plan with the co-leader would be a good idea. 9 times out of 10 people won't notice my mistakes. My missed timing, my botched chords and my need to  step out every now and then to care for my son, God is so much bigger than that. And even when it felt like a perfect storm and a failure, that Sunday more people told me they felt encouraged by worship than the last 4 times I led combined. And that's what it's all about. People connecting to the heart of the Father and feeling the Father's love in worship.

Also, ALWAYS feed Felix during the sermon right after worship when I'm the leader, better safe than sorry.

WLWL - Sleep & Strength

Worship Leading While Lactating - A series about my experiences as a mom and worship leader. 

This past week was one of those weeks. Felix was sleeping worse than ever. Up every hour or more. Not napping. and very needy when he was awake. Demanding attention and movement and constant activity. Saturday afternoon rolled around and I nursed Felix down for a nap as I left the house around 3:45 PM for rehearsal.

I knew leading this weekend would be hard. Little else other than my sisters, parents and my own exhaustion had been on my mind that week. How can I help my family? How can I get Felix to sleep. What is going on in all this chaos of life. How is God moving. I was struggling with being angry at God. I was feeling like my prayers were going unheard. My heart was broken in the midst of this crisis and my emotions were all over the map. I didn't know how much I would have to offer the church body as a leader.

Rehearsal Saturday night flew by and we were done 30 minutes early. We normally don't rehearse ministry time songs, but I decided to play through them since I had the time. Something happened. As usual with God when He comes it's powerful and usually catches me off guard a little.  I was simply running through the song "Promises of Wonder" and in the midst of distractedly playing the line "In the darkest night, when death closes in, all your promises are yes and amen." squeezed at my heart out at me.

How can this be true? My mind raced. I've seen the darkest night and I don't believe you. I don't trust you right now, God! I continued to sing "To the fatherless, your love rushes in. All your promises are yes and  amen." Struggling through the bridge knowing in my head the words are truth, but my heart hadn't made the connection yet.

I repeated the words over and over, trying to will the truth to sink in. and then it happened. I felt the Lord draw near. I felt Him standing right by me. I didn't need to have the answers. I didn't need to straighten out my emotions and be a "happy little worship leader." I just needed him near. And believe it or not, with his presence so close. So comforting, I began to see how even in this dark season of the soul among my questions and confusion  God is there, working. He indeed does have good promises and good plans for my life and HE IS GOOD. And a peace and energy washed over me as I sang. Whether I fully understood it or not, I allowed myself to cling to his loving kindness in the midst of pain and out of the bowels of my soul a light began to shine again. Hope and restoration of my faith.

Tears ran down my face as I sang the bridge again to an empty sanctuary and finished the song with the lines "Always, and only, the mark of Your love will be my glory."

A supernatural energy came into my body and the set that evening and the next morning (after another night of little sleep) was sweet. A time of intimacy with God and in his presence. We lingered and loved on God and felt him close. For once in weeks I didn't feel angry. I didn't feel tired. I didn't feel confusion and doubt.  He strengthened my heart and built up my faith and allowed me to lead out of my own complete weakness.

Tasting the Wind

The ball park was hot and muggy even for a night game in the 4th inning. Felix was a dream smiling at strangers seated behind us, wearing a cute light blue Orioles baseball cap and soaking in his first baseball game with his intent blue eyes. But the heat started to get to him, or mostly get to me and I decided to take him for a walk.

We went out to the concession area and felt instant relief as the tunnel near the harbor in Baltimore created a breezeway of sorts. After a short walk I decided to just stand off to the side away from the commotion of the game to see if I could sway the little man down for a nap.  We stood by an outlook over a green tree lined patio and let the wind rush around us.

The breeze was so strong my hair whipped around my face and the rustle in the trees created a wave like effect. Felix closed his eyes but kept his face up - taking the wind intentionally on his face. One little hand gripping my shirt and the other reaching upwards toward the strands of hair blowing about.

With little success at catching a tendril of my locks he surrendered and just let the wind blow through his clammy fingers. Hand stretched upward toward the sky. I watched as his eyes searched for the source of the sensation, glancing back and forth between me and his hand with a quizzical look. Air rushing around us.

Very methodically he reached his hand out then drew it to his mouth. Over and over. trying to taste the wind. Trying to find out if it was real or not. Was he in a dream? Did this feeling in fact exist? With a shy smile and sleepy eyes Felix surrendered to the mystery of the wind. Burying his head in my chest and yawning.

It's hard to not draw parallels between this simple act of a child and wind and an encounter with Holy Spirit. The spirit is so real. You can see his effects on the world around you. Sometimes you can hear him. Sometimes you can smell him. Sometimes you can even taste him and you can most definitely feel him. But no matter how hard you try to comprehend, the Spirit will remain a mystery.

God, instill in me a childlike encounter with the Holy Spirit. Reaching for you expecting to Taste, Touch, Smell, See, & Feel.

An Awareness

Recently, I have been praying for two main things in my life. I want an increase of His presence and I want an increase in my awareness of His presence. Sometimes I mindlessly go throughout the day not even thinking of God all but once or twice during the 9-5 hours.

In Mark 5 there is a story about a sick woman who had a bleeding disorder (for 12 years). She heard about the Jesus and the miracles He had done and she had hope. In verse 27-30 is says "...she came up behind Him in the crowd and touched His cloak, because she thought, 'If I just touch His clothes, I will be healed.' Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that she was freed from her suffering. At once, Jesus realized that power had gone out from Him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, 'Who touched my clothes?'" (emphasis added)

Jesus was fully man and filled with the same spirit we are. Yet, he was so aware of the presence he carried that realized when there was a demand put on that power. I wonder what this felt like. Did He suddenly feel drained? Did His stomach turn? Did He feel a burning sensation in his body? But, even more than that I think it is amazing that He realized it!

I want that type of awareness of the spirit in my life. I want to constantly be aware of His spirit that I carry in this broken human vessel. I know that when I accepted the gospel message at an early age that the spirit came upon me and will never leave me. But I also know that He chooses to rest on people who seek him and desire to be in and know his presence more. I want to so be filled with the spirit during my daily walk that I can't help but notice when the spirit demands something from me or when something puts a demand on the spirit in me.

A good analogy regarding this...If you have a dove on your shoulder and you don't want it to fly away how would you walk? The answer is very carefully. Not carelessly. And most likely you would have a constant sense of the dove's presence on your shoulder.