Celebration Sunday

Our church did something new today.

To be honest, I'm not sure what the motivation behind it was. What I am positively certain of is that it was incredibly moving, freeing. I rarely cry in public. I did today. And I wasn't the only one. Sniffles and Kleenex were plentiful throughout the sanctuary. It would have been a good day to have a box at the end of each pew. The presence of the Holy Spirit was overwhelming.

Last Sunday an invitation was made to bring something that you do or something that symbolizes something you do that you want to dedicate to God. Something you want to give to him, something you already do that you want to offer as a form of worship. A symbol to lay at the foot of the cross.

Before the final words crossed the announcer's lips, I knew what I had to bring. 

I anticipated this all week. This morning arrived and I had my offering ready to go. I didn't know how the morning would go, but I was ready. 

Worship began as normal and then the plan was explained. We were invited to worship in a variety of ways. God the ultimate creator and artist inspired and worshiped through painting, singing, dancing, praying, giving. People wrote out offerings and burdens and nailed them to the cross, right where they belong. Two baptisms had been planned, seven took place. People who had been feeling God's gentle nudge took the plunge. Literally. And without having brought a change of clothes. It. was. amazing.

I've thought a lot about time recently. I do a lot of things, most of them intentionally for God's purposes. I am very much a planner, God wired me that way, it's no surprise to him. But if we plan every minute of every day, we leave God no room to lead. I want him to lead me. I need him to lead me. 

After the baptisms were over, we sang more praises. Extravagant, moving, tear-filled praises that at times I could only listen to because I was overcome by emotion. My favorite songs lead by incredibly gifted musicians. It was then that I finally mustered up the courage to walk to the front and not just lay my offering at the foot of the cross, but nail my offering to it.

"The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the Lord holds them by the hand." ~ Psalm 37:23, 24

God's Chisel

(God's Chisel video. http://skitguys.com/videos/item/gods-chisel)

This video about says it all, doesn't it?

My desire to become the person God wants me to be is a bold one. It's scary at times. It's hard to let go of those pieces of me that I am so attached to. Even posting something like this requires me to overstep the boundaries of my comfort zone - because there are few people with whom I openly discuss my faith. I worry about offending friends and family I know are not believers or whose beliefs I know differ from mine.

Which is crazy because pretty much everyone who knows me knows I am Christian.

My goal is and always has been to love everyone like Jesus loves them, like he loves me. To live my faith, not preach it, using action consistently and words only to answer questions. Just like the guy in the video, I am - and always will be - under construction. I strive for perfection in my tasks, but I am by no means under any illusion that I am perfect. 

I am guilty of caring too deeply what other people think of me. I look around more than I look up, and there's plenty of chiseling for God to do in me. But I know that I am not junk. Even though I am still a work in progress, I am an original masterpiece. I am wonderfully complex. I wonder, though, if you would ever know this if I were never bold enough to just say it:

So are you.

Can You Do Yoga With Rigor Mortis?

Rigor Mortis - Latin meaning "stiffness of death," according to Wikipedia. "One of the recognizable signs of death ... causing the limbs to become stiff and difficult to move or manipulate."

Yoga - for the purposes of this post, I am focusing solely on the physical strength and flexibility required.

Sometimes life feels like trying to do yoga with rigor mortis.

There's just one small catch. I'm not dead.

I can think of two specific life events that have been instrumental in my process of learning to accept change, but really, change is inevitable and dealing with it is a life-long process for all of us. Often one change sparks another - and it can snowball from there.

There are times when I eagerly anticipate change, when I am excited and ready to move in a new direction; there are times when I take an apathetic approach; and there are times when all I want to do is dig my heels in like a rebellious two-year-old and scream, "NO!"

Unfortunately, the latter is not conducive to living a happy, fulfilled life in which I grow. Unfortunately, I have felt that way a couple times recently.

I desperately want to grow. Because to stop growing, learning, changing, is to die. Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. And I don't want to just live, I want to live FULLY.

Therefore, no matter how stiff I feel, I must bend... because there are some changes that will happen no matter what I think - and I refuse to let them be my breaking point.

But that also does not mean that I need to sprint toward every change heading my direction with open arms and a huge grin. It's ok for me to feel disappointed or frustrated or sad... for a little while. Change can feel a lot like loss that we need to grieve and that takes time - and that's ok, and depending on the severity of the change, the amount of time needed to accept it varies.

I did some research on flexibility today. One article said this:

"The most practical way to increase flexibility is to get stronger. It sounds strange but according to Pavel Tsatsouline, author of Relax Into Stretch, 'Typically a stronger muscle does not have to contract as hard as a weaker one to exert the same amount of force and it more willingly relaxes into a stretch.'"

Wow. Funny how something so literal can be taken to a deeper level of thought and still hold true.

The article goes on to say (basically) that the more you stretch, the easier it becomes to stretch further. Obviously. But there's a catch most of us are familiar with - stop doing it for a while and you seize up again. So since we can't always control the frequency with which we are presented with change, how do we remain limber so it won't be so difficult next time?

Strengthen ourselves. To relax more willingly.

For me, that means spending time reading my Bible, hanging out with people who know me and will challenge me when I start talking crazy, and ignoring the "stinkin' thinkin'" that (let's be honest) I'm often challenged by. I can be on the lookout for changes that are sneaking up on me and start assessing them and planning my attack when I see them approaching. I can talk it out with other people who are involved or whom I trust. I can look for the positive aspects of the new, rather than focusing on the things I'll miss of the old. If it affects other people, I can tell them as soon as I know so we can discuss our plan of attack together and they too can have time to prepare.

And then I can take action... which means choosing a direction and bending in it. This may even involve moving out of this tiny little box I like to call my comfort zone.

Can you do yoga with rigor mortis? Not literally. But fortunately even the most rigid of us can bend at least a little before we break.