A Prayer for the Broken

God, it's tough.

You know the statistics because You know everything that goes on in this broken-already-redeemed-but-waiting-for-Christ's-return world of (Y)ours.

I know from reading your Word that Your heart breaks for the victims - the widows, the orphans, those sold into slavery after You sent Your Son to free us from the chains of sin. And every day, we long for those chains, we long for Egypt because we don't know what is best for us. We don't know that although the desert is long, dry, and we are in want of water, you have a land flowing with milk and honey and everything our hearts truly desire waiting for us; and we forget that every single day, You provide us with exactly what we need.

And God, we long for everything else before we long for You.

We search for rest in things, in possessions, in sex, in drugs, in alcohol - only to be left exhausted.

We search for rest in controlling those we see as beneath us,
      in abusing others to make them fear us,
        in holding to our pride in thinking that we know exactly how we would have responded if                    something as tragic as THAT had happened to us.
Only to be left wanting more.

We search for rest in being quick to speak,
     in being slow to listen,
      in being quick to let our anger and vengeance pour out as wrath upon others when we, the finite,          puny beings we are, do not, can not, (should not?) know the depth of the depravity of others.
And then we decide that to make our wrath sound better, we will justify it, call it, "righteous anger,"

                forgetting that a part of righteous anger involves not sinning. 

"In your anger, do not sin."

"In your anger, do not belittle others."

"In your anger, do not let your pride best you."

"In your anger, do not forget to listen."

"In your anger, do not forget that the people whom you are angry with are as capable of sin as you are and that they deserve the same amount of grace as you do - that is to say, none."

For if any of us deserved grace, it would not be grace at all.

God, You have placed us in situations for our compassion to grow, so that we can become more like You. But in growing our compassion, our vision becomes biased. We take on so quickly the stories of others who have stories like ours to make them our story. We become hell-bent on seeking the justice that we never received, in doling out vengeance that we never got to share, and we so often forget that there are more people involved in abuse stories than the abusers themselves.

We assume that the same half-apology that we got as victims, the other victims received. 

"because it was true for me, it must be true for them."

We assume that the same path to forgiveness and healing we took, the victims must also take.

"because it worked for me, it will definitely work for them."

 We forget that a major part of empathy involves smashing down the walls of me/them, of us vs. them. 

We have tried amputating limbs off of Your body because of a broken bone instead of seeking the healing of the Great Physician. 

We have said carelessly, "Well, they aren't truly Christians," when we do not know their standing with You. 

We have judged irresponsibly, hurled insults because "they started it," and disassociated ourselves. We have refused empathy, kindness, and compassion. We have chosen justice over mercy forgetting that by doing so, we have become Pharisees - the white washed tombs. The same label that we use when talking about THEM - without knowing their standing with You.

We rejoice, realizing that they will have to account for their actions one day.

How sick of us to rejoice without realizing that we will also have to account for all of the hatred we have spewed.

1 in 4 women, God. 1 in 4 women will experience sexual abuse in their lives. And in America, only 2 percent... 2 PERCENT of those women will see their abuser brought to justice and in jail. 

In America, God, 15 percent of rape and sexual abuse victims are children. CHILDREN. 

Lord, I pray with the Psalmist - bring down your judgement on those who would abuse a child. Holy Spirit, stir within their hearts to bring them to their knees in true repentance. Let the glory of Your Son bring in them a holy desire to fear you and to pay the price for their actions. But let them turn to You.

Forgive us for forgetting that in Your kingdom, we will see those who have seriously wronged others - who have seriously wronged us - and yet have been washed clean by the blood of the Lamb, even if we didn't think that they made the "correct" amends. 

Help us to forgive those we see as "unforgivable."

Forgive us for determining the "correct" mode of forgiveness in other people's lives.

Forgive us for assuming.

Forgive us for choosing mercy over justice - thus telling the victims that what they went through doesn't matter because You've forgiven the abuser.

Forgive us for blatantly refusing to walk humbly with You, knowing that You are God and we are definitely not.

Help us to speak out for those who have been told to "be quiet," to "keep it our little secret," to, "don't speak because no one will believe you anyways."

Help us to hold justice and mercy in equal measures. 

Help us to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.

dear God, help us.

Confessions of a Worship Leader: On Last Minute Changes

If you know me well, you know that for most things in life, planning things out is one of my least favorite activities. I'm generally a "spontaneous-go-with-the-flow," type B personality, with a particular knack for procrastination because, well, let's face it - sometimes I can prioritize and prioritize and then something of more importance comes up. And then all of that planning and prioritizing gets shoved to the side and I'm left wondering why I planned in the first place.

This especially comes up when I need to pack to move. I am, as my father and mother can both attest, the absolute WORST at packing. It's a bit of a struggle for me, too, as I have a bit of wanderlust in my blood and generally don't stay in the same place for very long and so packing is sort of necessary. Even in packing for a vacation, I generally do it the night before I leave.

But when it comes to planning and leading worship, I LOVE planning. I love fitting details together. I love figuring out how to incorporate intergenerational worship with old songs with new songs with global songs with making sure that our worship is a true dialogue between God, the Body, and each other. I love figuring these things out WAY in advance. It gives me a special kind of adrenaline rush.

And then comes the Spirit. 

Communicating with the Spirit also gives me a special kind of adrenaline rush, but when it comes to last-minute changes and the Spirit nudging me and nudging me and nudging me to change things, I sometimes get frustrated - I planned. I prayed. I worked hard to make sure everything fit together and all of a sudden, the Spirit comes up and says, "Well, that's a nice little puzzle you got there, but it's the wrong puzzle."

"It's the what?"
"It's the wrong puzzle. For all intents and purposes, it's a good looking puzzle. The pieces fit. Except for the fact that I want to push you a completely different direction."
"But it's Saturday. I'm supposed to not be doing anything."
"Just. Trust. That's all I ask you to do. Trust and obey."

And that's where I currently find myself - still in my pajamas, in my office, fitting together a different puzzle.

Because if I've learned anything in all my years of schooling and in the eight months of experience here at a Church, it's that if I push MY will in front of God's will, God will still speak (because He even works in my inadequacies), but I'll end up frustrated on Sunday morning instead of truly worshipping. 

And if I've learned anything in life, it's that God's plan is ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS better than my own. 

There's this myth that goes around that all worship leaders do is put together a list of their favorite songs and play them every Sunday - and while that may be true for some, it's not true for all. Some of us work hard planning, praying, and jigsaw puzzling to make sure that the music in the service accents the Scripture and the sermon. And yet, there comes times like these where it seems as if I'm changing everything on a Saturday anyways, what's the point of working 40 hours a week? 

I don't control when or how the Spirit moves. My only responsibility is to respond in kind to it. And after feeling uncomfortable with the service and then only having one other person show up for practice on Thursday, I started seeing the signs. And then while planning prayer stations for the service, I realized that there were themes that I completely missed while reading the Scripture the first time and going through the sermon outline. And I could ignore the nudgings no longer.

No matter how much I complain about coming in to work on a Saturday, I am forever grateful that the Spirit does move and lets me know when I need to change. 

Because it continually reminds me that I am not in control. And that God will do what God will do - especially when we pray for His will to be done. We just have to be ready and willing to continue to do what God wills. To move, even when we feel like spending an entire day watching TV and relaxing. To put aside our comfort for His glory. To listen. To trust and obey.