Boundaries Remove the Need (#fmf)

It is one of the best things to open my November/December calendar and discover empty weekends this year! It’s still a novelty to have free weekends because I spent several years where every Saturday and Sunday were devoted to Christmas music ministry (praise band, praise team, sound team).

This year, we can make plans and not have to shuffle them around children’s Christmas musical practices (which were Fridays/Saturdays/some Sundays), adult cantata practices (some Saturdays/Sunday afternoons), Hanging of the Greens practices (usually Thanksgiving weekend and all Sunday afternoon just before performance Sunday night), and praise team practices (which were held every Saturday morning). It wasn’t uncommon for children’s and adult practices to be back-to-back meaning we’d be at the church for 4-6 hours a day plus the time spent with praise team on Saturday/Sundays and church services.

When I look at my empty calendar and then reflect how my schedule usually plays out in November and December, I feel sweet relief. There are moments when I really miss my church music friends and the opportunities to make music with them, but those moments are quickly overshadowed with the stress that I still feel when I think about those days or the shame over getting so sucked up into the churchy bubble when 95% of my life happened outside of church but yet my whole life was for the church.

It’s embarrassing to think of all the festive activities and parties we turned down because they conflicted with practices. I turned down friends when they had real needs, but after spending all day at church, I had nothing to left to give anyone. This is where I hoped that good intentions would be good enough because it was all I had to offer (ouch!). There were weekends when I sacrificed our family traditions or rushed my family through Christmas activities so I could be back at church for another practice or to get my own practice time in so I’d be ready for practice. I dreaded November and December because I knew it would be one big juggling act that would leave me stressed and frustrated because it’d be another year of giving up the things I really wanted to do for something I still wanted to do but somehow, it overtook everything!

What I didn’t know last November and December (and the ones before that) that I know now is that boundaries are necessary within church life. It’s okay to say no to good things. All of my life, I was taught that we need to be there for the church and that God has equipped us with special abilities and talents to use for the church. Growing up, I was taught that it’s our duty as believers to be there for others and to be there for the church and that often came at the expense of our home life as children. I grew up thinking it was my calling to sacrifice my needs and desires as a child and teenager in order to serve others because their needs were more pressing than mine. We’ve been given a good life, so we needed to share it with others. But at the same time, I learned that in order to have my needs met as a child/teen, we needed to meet everyone else’s first.

That line of thinking works when you don’t know anything different about God, church, and family life. But there comes a point in life when that mindset no longer works. “Needing” to give becomes a compulsion to give. And last year, God kept bringing me back to this idea of freedom and a life that He designed for me that goes beyond compulsion. He kept showing me how much I do because I have to do it or need to do it and He kept bringing me back to 2 Corinthians 9:7 (ESV): “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” 

It got to the point where all I felt in ministry was stress, pressure, and performance and the joy was sucked out with the compulsion. All of that was reinforced in the fast-paced, high-performance church environment I was in. For every no I tried to utter, spoken and unspoken messages reminded me that it was a privilege to serve and that my talents were needed in order to pull it off. I was reminded to pray more and specifically ask God to give me strength to do what He’s called me to do because we all were juggling busy lives and struggling with the practice schedules, too. I felt guilty because I couldn’t keep up with everything and everyone else could (at least it looked that way on the outside). 

I often wondered if we wanted others to experience God at Christmas, why weren’t we given time to experience Him, too? But God was crammed into prayer before practices and we all knew we were doing this for God and to reach others through our performance, so God understood it was for Him (misguided but well-intentioned). But at the same time, the holiday season would end and it would be then that I'd realize I didn’t even experience God because I didn’t have time to stop and experience Him with all the practices and getting ready for them. There were moments that spoke to me as we played/sang through songs, and those moments combined with rushed devotions before going to practice or exhausted devotions when I got home from practice somehow had to be enough. But it wasn't...it got to the point where it wasn’t good enough for me to go to church. I wanted more than church because I was missing the whole point of church--I was missing God!

This year, the whole point of church has been hashed out one week at a time as I’ve wrestled through what is church, what does it mean, and what place does it have in my life. I’ve wrestled with ministry callings because I’ve experienced what God can do when we are in align with Him and following Him even in a broken church system but not knowing if I could ever go back to as things were. All of this plus my seminary classes have taught me that broken systems contain broken people. And broken people usually have boundary-less lives. Boundary-less lives lead to lives of doing, striving, proving, or performing in order to help us define who we are as titles, accolades, attention, or success give us our value.

When I opened my November/December calendar this morning, a wave of panic hit as I thought of all the practices/performances I would be missing this year and how it’s not fair that others get all of those opportunities and I don’t. And then as memories of all the stress hit…yeah, they can have it!!! Panic turned to excitement because I literally have a blank calendar to offer those I love!! I’m really excited about that because I get to say “yes” this year. I get to say yes to enjoying Thanksgiving without a looming weekend practice in order to get ready for the Hanging of the Greens service (which usually meant leaving the family that traveled to see us fending for themselves while I’m at practice), to baking and decorating all the favorite cookies that we rushed through in previous years, to not just googling but actually completing cool Christmas crafts with my child, to going on a Christmas date with my husband, to driving around and looking at Christmas lights without feeling pulled in different directions, and to taking time to savor the sights and sounds of Thanksgiving and Christmas with my friends and family. It’s as it should be! (lol, my child brought up last night on the way home from church that he's glad he doesn't have to worry about memorizing songs and lines and can just enjoy his holidays!)

I don’t “need” to do anything for God because He has done it all for me…all I “need” to do is rest in Him. It’s very freeing! Part of honoring God is to take care of me and to set those boundaries even within church life that preserve my time, energy, and health so I can give away what He wants me to give to the people He wants me to give it to. Boundaries help define who I am and it gives room to let others be who they are. Boundaries allow every person to take responsibility for their own lives and for their own calendars realizing that in the end, we only answer to God, not well-meaning Christians. And when I keep that perspective, there is joy in an empty calendar because it means God gets to fill it up and keep writing the story that He’s been writing…and to me, that is the pathway to freedom!

“God made my life complete when I placed all the pieces before Him.

When I got my act together, He gave me a fresh start.

Now I’m alert to God’s ways; I don’t take God for granted.

Every day I review the ways He works; I try not to miss a trick.

I feel put back together, and I’m watching my next step.

 God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to His eyes.”

Psalm 18:20-24 (Message)

Five Minute Friday (#FMFparty) gives writers a word prompt. We are encouraged to write whatever comes to mind about that word in just five minutes (although, I always go longer because FMF fuels that spark in me to write).  No editing, no perfection, only writing from the heart.  To find out more, visit http://fiveminutefriday.com/.  This week's word is "NEED".

It Depends on the Fire (#FMF)

Tonight is one of those nights where I feel like writing but I don't know what to write. Well, technically, there are many things to write yet they all seem too personal for a blog. For the past three weekends, I've sat at my laptop trying to come up with something for the FMF word and my mind keeps drawing blank. I can think of all the things that I'm "supposed" to say especially when I think of all the ways that the FMF word will be used by the many FMF bloggers in various spiritual contexts. Then, I think of my readers and wonder what is that one thing I can share with them that will encourage and challenge and my mind draws blank because the things I want to say don't come in a nice, neat package. The things from my heart that challenge others come from walking through the fire, getting burned, being nursed back to health only to be burned again, yet not as severe this time, and then being nursed back to health again. There is something that happens when we walk through the fire one too many times. If we don't resent the fire, we sometimes realize that the fire isn't all bad. It depends on the purpose of the fire and it depends on how we want to view it.

Sometimes when we walk through the fire, the heat of the fire burns off the old, dead, rotten places that no longer serve us. These are the places we cling to tightly because it's all we've ever known. We will never let go of these things on our own and the fire either forces us to let go or it teaches us how to let go. Either way, once that place has been scorched, we know it will never be the same again.

But sometimes when we walk through the fire, the heat of the fire prepares us for something yet to be discovered. I keep coming back to a glassblower's molten blob of glass on the end of his blow tube. The firey red hot blob glows and burns with extreme heat but it becomes extremely malleable. By the time the glassblower is done and the glass begins to cool, beauty emerges in shapes and forms that vary from one another--sometimes very distinctly and other times, ever so slightly. Each piece of glass work was hand-crafted by a master who had a plan and a vision to make something out of a firey blob.

When we get burned, there is also a process of healing that must happen. Each time we heal, we learn something about ourselves in the process. For some of us, healing comes when we learn to accept help. For others, healing comes when we can receive grace. Some learn that rest is required for healing while others learn that time is a great healer. It depends on the purpose of the fire as to what kind of healing will happen. What many fail to mention is that healing is sometimes as painful as the fire. But if we endure and embrace the process rather than resist it, we come out on the other side a different person because we have experienced healing for ourselves.

If we end up having to walk through the same kind of fire again, we are more confident that we will get through it. The healing that we previously experienced makes the fire a little more bearable because we know that even though the fire may be bad, it won't last forever. The fire eventually dies out removing the old, dead, rotten places, thereby leaving behind a new place where life and health can begin to grow.

"But now, this is what the Lord says—he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." Isaiah 43:1-2

Five Minute Friday (#FMFparty) gives writers a word prompt. We are encouraged to write whatever comes to mind about that word in just five minutes (although, I usually go longer bcs FMF helps fuel that spark in me to write).  No editing, no perfection, only writing from the heart.  To find out more, visit http://fiveminutefriday.com/.  This week's word is "DEPEND".

Neighbors In the Wilderness (#FMF)

Have you ever faced a wilderness season in your life? You know, the time when you feel all alone, wandering aimlessly trying to get somewhere but you’re not exactly sure where you are at or how far you have left to wander before you’re “there” (if you’re one of the lucky few to know where “there” really is)? We are not in familiar situations that we assumed we’d always be in nor are we fully comfortable with the new situations we find ourselves in. Some days, we blaze new trails while other days, we find ourselves trying to retrace old steps back to that comfort and security that we once took for granted. Along the way, we discover we are no longer who we once were but we are no longer who we want to be, and we realize that we’re not even sure that who we wanted to be is what we really will be when this journey through the wilderness is over. Sometimes I want to rush the journey and move on with these lessons and move on to the next chapter of my life. And other times, I want to pitch and tent and either have a pity party or simply rest and regroup because walking through the wilderness is depleting and exhausting.

The wilderness journey is intensely personal and only a journey we can make on our own. It gets pretty lonely at times because it seems like everyone else has already made it through to the other side or they know where they are going and are running full speed ahead leaving us choking on their dust and wondering how come they are able to move so quickly and we can barely find the strength to take the next step. But what if in the wandering and trying to keep up with others, we’re missing strategically and Divinely placed neighbors surrounding us who are ready to refresh, equip, and share with us what we need to stay on the journey one more day? And what if in the midst of our own wilderness, we are to be that kind of neighbor to someone else?

Wilderness and neighbors seem contradictory, but a neighbor can simply be defined as “a fellow man” (Merriam Webster). So in the wilderness context, where do we find a neighbor when there seems to be no one around us and the journey seems long and arduous? A neighbor is found in the person who comes alongside us even if it’s for a few minutes, a few weeks, or a few months. We can either acknowledge our neighbor or we can push them away fully missing out on how neighbors are able to assist each other, even momentarily, with whatever journey they are on. Ephesians 4:25 says, “What this adds up to, then, is this: no more lies, no more pretense. Tell your neighbor the truth. In Christ’s body we’re all connected to each other after all.”  

Are we too occupied with ourselves and what we do or don’t have, where we wish we were but aren’t, or who we want to be but fail to be that we’ve forgotten how connected we all are—that our neighbors need us as much as we need them? That we can encourage one another instead of compete with each other? That we can borrow strength from each other instead of walk all over each other? That we can learn from each other instead of try to discredit each other? That we can speak truth to each other rather than hide how much we are struggling through the wilderness? That we can let that truth deepen instead of hinder relationships as we walk through the wilderness?

As I walk through wilderness seasons, it is my neighbors that God uses mightily in my life. These neighbors speak God’s truth to me when I am weary of fighting. They pray when it feels like I have no more words left to pray. And they are simply just there...in some ways, they make God’s love tangible and remind me just how much we truly are NOT alone in the wilderness. It’s when I let go of the pretense and speak my truth and receive their truth which is centered around God’s truth that the wilderness becomes more sustainable. I am thankful that wilderness journey doesn’t have to be a solo journey, and I’m thankful for all the neighbors that God places in my path during the wilderness seasons!

Five Minute Friday (#FMFparty) gives writers a word prompt. We are encouraged to write whatever comes to mind about that word in just five minutes (although, I usually go longer bcs FMF helps fuel that spark in me to write).  No editing, no perfection, only writing from the heart.  To find out more, visit http://fiveminutefriday.com/.  This week's word is "NEIGHBOR".

Try vs. Experiment--Differing Perspectives (#fmf)

I've been mulling over the word 'try', this week's FMF word. Try is a word that has been grating on my nerves lately because try carries many meanings. Lately, it seems like a cop-out word where we can say, "I'll try it and see if it works" all the while internalizing skepticism because we know failure is around the corner (experience has taught us that). Or sometimes, the word 'try' increases pressure because we've tried something many, many times and how many more times do we have to try before we know it's just not going to work? Sometimes trying flat-out doesn't get us where we want to go and sometimes trying leaves us stuck where we are because we don't know what we don't know.

Last summer, I got really sick of the word 'try'. I've spent all my life trying to be good enough for family, for friends, for church, for God, for everyone I came in contact with. It got extremely exhausting and I couldn't try anymore because I had nothing left physically, emotionally, and spiritually to give to anyone. Something had to change before I burned out beyond the point of no return. When I talked to church people about it, I was told to try reading the Bible more, try praying more, try giving more, try serving more, try to do more...more, more, more...and still nothing was changing no matter how hard I tried.

I was tired of being stuck and needed help getting unstuck because as the big 4-0 approaches, I didn't want to think about living the rest of my life burned out, always trying, and still never having the life I wanted. I wanted help reorienting my life and priorities with help that went beyond band-aid Christian answers. I didn't have it in me to try anything else. I couldn't fail at anything else nor did I want the pressure of trying anything else only to prove that failure. But key women in my life kept encouraging me to give God, new thought patterns, self care, and healthy choices for my mind, body, and soul a try. It wasn't about just trying something for one area of my life, but trying for wholeness in every area of my life. That's a tall order--that's life change!

Heaviness, discouragement, and pressure settled in every time I ended a conversation with a mentor especially if I told her "I'll try [whatever she suggested]." I also felt immature, childish, and like I shouldn't be struggling with trying these things. But I knew if I failed, I would give up on specific things and people and even God. And because I didn't want to lose those people, things, and God, I had to get serious about finding something that will work for me that might light the fire and fuel the change I needed. And that is when when I started making an intentional shift from "try" to "experiment".

When we experiment with something, we don't have a specific and set idea of how something will turn out which means grand expectations and unattainable results aren't our starting point and focus. Perfection doesn't exist with experimenting because we don't yet know what perfection means in light of the end result. We have a completely blank slate and a willingness for something to happen. We're not sure what the end result will be, but it's ok because we are just experimenting anyway.

With an experiment, we are allowed to make a mess, color outside the lines, try new things, throw things together or take things apart because we don't have guaranteed expectations for the results. We have hopes and guesses, but they aren't set-in-stone results. We have the freedom to simply be and simply do and let whatever happens, happen. When we experiment, we let go of how things should be and we open ourselves up to the process and to the learning, observing, and creating. Experimenting frees us from the box. It also frees others from the box, and it frees God from the box. Everything that we think is "supposed" to be, just might not be. And that gives us the freedom to ask, "What then?" leaving us to build on the result by experimenting further with the result.

When I made the shift and started experimenting with self-care (like saying "no" to people, not filling up every day on my calendar with activities, taking time read a book, doing restorative activities), I started realizing just how much I neglected myself and my family for the sake of church and God's people. God never once asked us to run ourselves ragged for Him. Instead, He constantly calls us into a time of rest and renewal and Christ gives us a clear example of that. When we sample that true, healing, life-giving rest, we begin to fight for it to happen in our lives because we know how refreshing and vital it is to our well-being.

When I started experimenting with tapping into the Holy Spirit and realizing that He's waaaay more than a centerpiece that we acquire upon salvation, my prayers started to change because His power and direction became something real. The Spirit started becoming this living presence in my life, not something that is "too charismatic" to talk or think about, not something I have to keep proving I'm good enough to have, and not something dependent upon church service and performance.

When I started experimenting with the idea that there might be more to life than constantly getting stuck in the same place every couple years, I started discovering a new way to live that is whole, freeing, and different than anything I've ever experienced. But this experimenting requires letting go of everything I have ever known and it dares me to take a different step. One step leads to another and to another, and over time, a new path is forged. Sometimes the steps are long and arduous, and I don't know if I can take one more step. But that's when I experiment "just one more time" by seeking God, reaching out for support, and having the gumption to simply take that next step. And each time, I'm pleasantly surprised to see that God is still there unloosening one more chain, transforming one more thought, and setting my feet on the right path.

Experimenting over trying allows me to walk in freedom--it's messy, it's imperfect, and it goes against tradition, logic, and predictability. And the beauty of experimenting is that when I fall down, I can get back up because I'm free to try again. And each time I fall and get back up, I'm building the endurance needed to keep moving forward.

Experimenting is not about success or failure or pushing ourselves to prove we can do it or that we are enough...it's about letting go, giving up our preconceived ideas, and taking risks in order to try things we haven't tried before and seeing a different result. And somewhere along the line, all the experimenting turns into desired living because we've learned in the process who we are, whose we are, and where we are headed.

"Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." Romans 5:1-5 (ESV)

Five Minute Friday (#FMFparty) gives writers a word prompt. We are encouraged to write whatever comes to mind about that word in just five minutes (although, I usually go longer bcs FMF helps fuel that spark in me to write).  No editing, no perfection, only writing from the heart.  To find out more, visit http://fiveminutefriday.com/.  This week's word is "TRY".