Tackling Transitions

Next week, a new series of blog posts will begin to be published on the site Off The Page, a ministry of Our Daily Bread. I am excited about this opportunity to reach a larger audience and hope that the posts are engaging, inspiring, and thought provoking-- sincere and maybe even a little funny now and then.

My first series with Off The Page was about transitions and what it's like to change jobs, change communities, and change churches. Here are a few excerpts:

Changing Directions
I recently did one of those things you do in your twenties and thirties: I changed jobs. The job change was a package deal and included a new town, a new commute, a new house, and a new school district for my kids.

I wasn’t really looking to change jobs. It’s rare to think that you’ve found the job you are made for when you are twenty-five, but I was certain I had: administering a graduate writing program, managing a small press and literary journal at the university I had graduated from four years earlier, working with faculty members who had mentored me when I was an undergraduate … I was in happy spreadsheet, literature, and poetry heaven.

Everything had fallen into place to make it happen too. My husband, Brandon, and I had prayed through the job offer and acceptance, the house sale and moving plans, the birth of our second child … every single little detail that summer. And it was good. Read More...

Church Hunting

I hate trying to find a church.

The last time we moved, Brandon and I fell by mercy into a community of believers that met our deep need for friendship and community. We only visited one other church in the land-of-a-thousand churches before we found 5 Stones Community Church.

5 Stones is filled with people who praise Jesus for his extravagant grace, make no claims of perfection but aspire to become the truest versions of themselves, and drape other people in that same outpouring of mercy and forgiveness. For realz, I know that was a lot of church-y talk and all, but I’m serious. Like all churches that exist here on earth, it has its battles and bruises, its history and its weaknesses. It’s made of a bunch of broken people covered by God’s grace, so that’s to be expected. Read More...

Life Together

I started the new year feeling a need for some meaty inspirational reading, so I picked up a book that’s been sitting on our shelves for a while now, Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

Hangin’ out with other believers and talking about Jesus is one of my favorite things to do, but deep and sustaining relationships in the church are sometimes hard to come by. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Christians can be kind of judgmental and easily offended. Whaaaaaat?! I know. Crazy. Because of this and my incapacity for small talk, I don’t find it easy to jump right into faith communities. I’m not always sure if they’re going to get me, and I don’t want to offend them by my sarcasm, self-deprecation, wide laugh, and loud grace. Read More...

Bringing the Word

You should know that I didn’t grow up reading the Bible—though we did have a basic illustrated Bible stories book floating around among the Dr. Seusses.

One Thanksgiving Day, I paged through a King James Bible looking for the section on Thanksgiving prayers, resolved that I would provide the most eloquent of blessings on our meal. This made perfect sense to me; after all, I had found the proper formal place setting arrangements for Thanksgiving in the cookbook. Surely there would be an index of holiday prayers in the Bible.

Later still, my mom bought me a red-letter, black, leather-bound, New International Version study Bible for Christmas. I was sixteen, and the hunger and curiosity from internal and external sources burned. I wanted to know: Is there a God? Is he real? Who is he? How do I reconcile all I’ve learned in sixteen years with this book? Can I?

I started reading at the beginning, like you do with most books. Genesis wasn’t so bad, and the start of Exodus is eventful, but then you get Leviticus and Numbers and Deuteronomy all up in there, and my interest waned. Read More...

Tune in beginning May 13 for the next series on Off The Page: The Desire to Be Desired.

Building Community

This past weekend, I spent some time in Indiana with about a dozen other writers who mostly met about three months ago at the Festival of Faith and Writing.  We decided to come together because we're all at similar places in our careers, like-minded in ideology and vision for our poetry, and we're all outrageously funny.  At least we find ourselves to be.

I think it is unusual to find and make fast friends with people, but especially other writers. There is a competitive air that surrounds most writer gatherings (except for the River Teeth Nonfiction Conference and the Ashland University MFA Program, but then again, I'm a smidge biased...), a chance to name drop, a chance to prove your superiority or make yourself feel better by pointing out the faults in well-known poets' work, a chance to spread your feathers and strut about with one's accolades ablaze.  This is of course a generalization; not all writers are this way, and not all retreats and conferences take this tone, but we all know those writers who seize any opportunity to establish themselves, sometimes at the cost of other poets.

This retreat was not that way, though we leaned that direction a time or two, mostly in good fun.  What we did was laugh a lot, share our passion for language and poetry and our belief that words have the idealistic power to change people.  We talked about ways we might collectively use our words to make an impact within groups of people who are not as inclined to buy a collection of poems or pick up a literary journal.  We shared meals and drinks together.  We got to know one another and traded stories from each other's lives, and we left eager to meet again, hopefully soon.  And then we began emailing and Facebooking each other to continue the conversation.

That is what community is about--taking the time to feed each other with laughter and truth and common concern for each other's well being.  Community, even across state lines, is sustained by the simple, "Hey, I was just thinking about you and..."  I am ever so grateful for having found this particular set of friends to mutually encourage and challenge as we work toward our personal and collective goals.

In ten days, I get to participate in yet another writing community, this one in my own backyard.  Sixty students and about 20 visiting writers and faculty will descend upon Ashland, Ohio for the annual two-week summer residency (writers' boot camp), and I can hardly contain my excitement to see students and faculty that have become more than colleagues--many are friends.  Even though it is a stressful two weeks involving a lot of administrating, it is also one of the highlights of my year. 

AND, I get to read from my new book for the first time.  Insert several smiley face emoticons here.

Occupy Tea Wall Party Street and Why I Dislike This Conversation

This afternoon I posted a link to Dave Ramsey's "Dear Occupy Wall Street" blog, which raised some discussion on Facebook.  I am a fan of Dave Ramsey's no-nonsense, pull yourself up from the bootstraps approach to personal finances, and I like his spitfire and sarcasm.  He is straightforward and pulls no punches.  He also holds strong opinions about Occupy Wall Street.  Several times I thought about jumping in to my Facebook wall's exchange, but after several typing sprees and then lots of backspacing, I decided to just let it go.

Political commentary-- left, right or dead center-- makes me really uncomfortable because it tends to be emotionally driven and confrontational, and I am a confrontational wimp.  You can almost hear the atoms start splitting in a room of mixed conservatives and liberals, and when it happens, I put on a frightened smile and wiggle deeper into the couch cushions. 

Why is it that we generally cannot have a rational conversation between sides about the economy and government?  Instead, one dissatisfied party shows disdain for the other and vice versa, when really, both parties should be rallying together for solutions.

The best way to ensure that nothing changes is for both sides to start flinging mud at each other.  Criticizing the Occupy Wall Street movement because they look like a bunch of camped-out, jobless hippies completely dismisses the fact that people feel so strongly about something that they are protesting.  Protesting is not a small deal.  Criticizing the Tea Party movement because they look like a bunch of gun-toting, anti-government rednecks dismisses the fact that "gun-toting hillbillies" are actually organizing.  Rallying for reform is not a small deal, either.

One thing is certain: The people, all of them, are dissatisfied with ____________. 

Both camps -- OWS and the Tea Party -- are made up of culturally different groups of people (generally speaking), and because they don't understand one another, they think they are fundamentally at odds and so they do not want to be associated with one another.  The media picks up on this dissonance and discredits the whole shebang because there are camped-out jobless hippies and gun-toting rednecks raising a ruckus, and if you can turn general dissatisfaction into ranting extremists, then the majority of people who don't consider themselves extremists won't affiliate with either side, and, like me, will probably keep their mouths shut for fear of being associated with a group of crazy people.  Instead of fostering discussion and dialogue, the media and other loud people shut down all lines of communication, turning the cameras on the crazies instead of on any kind of useful debate.

By far my favorite response to "the other side"-- left or right-- is sarcastic dismissal, ruthless jabs, and defensive one-liners.  There's no better way to isolate one's self and raise the emotional static in a room/facebook wall than to drop your favorite critical bomb on a topic, forcing the crowd to take cover under throw blankets. 

I know this is totally a "can't we all just get along?" post, but really, can't we all just get along?  Okay, so I think the fundamental difference between OWS and the Tea Party is that one is for bigger government and more control and the other is for smaller government and more freedom.  One presupposes that the government should know what its doing and regulate the people/corporations who don't seem to know what they need, and the other presupposes that the people are responsible, ethical, fiscally motivated, and smart and don't need the fist of Big Brother jabbing around in their business.  Those are two very different perspectives.

Meh.  I can't handle any more.  I'm afraid I might form an opinion and be classified as an Occupy Tea Wall Party Street member.

Creativity in Worship

Recently I started working with the worship team at our church, and I've been having so much fun.  I don't sing, and while I might be able to toot a tune on the ol' licorice stick, there isn't a whole lot of room for a clarinet in our contemporary worship band.  Unless we start playing songs from Fantasia.  So at first you might wonder what a tone deaf ex-member of the marching band is doing on the worship team.

We are blessed to attend a church that is not afraid to experiment.  On any given Sunday, you can expect to hear the worship leader say, "We're gonna try something different today."  Sometimes we have choreographed dancing.  Sometimes we have painting.  Sometimes we have flags.  We haven't brought out the snakes yet, but if the Spirit moved... well, we'd probably move to another church. ;)

Every week, the worship team talks via email or in person to start planning for the following Sunday, or a few Sundays ahead.  I love the intentionality, the enthusiasm, and the creativity that is permitted and encouraged.  I feel as if we are each given the freedom to use the gifts that have been given us, and it gets me just plain excited to be a part.

For those of you who are tone deaf, like me, but enthusiastic about worship and find yourself yearning for a way to use your gifts, talk to your pastor or worship leader and bring your ideas forward.  I've only been at this with our worship team for a month and a half, so I'm still learning lots of things, but it has been such a fulfilling experience that I can't help but share what I've learned so far.

Here are a few tips for bringing your creativity to Sunday morning worship:

1. Don't be afraid, ashamed, or embarrassed by your creativity.  This is important and might seem like a no-brainer, but I know from experience that self-doubt and negativity can weigh in on you and convince you that what you have to offer either isn't good enough or no one else will understand/appreciate what you have to offer because you are too different/unusual/strange.  Every good gift is from above, after all, and what better way to use what yo daddy gave you than in worship? Be bold and courageous.  Do not be afraid, do not be terrified.  The Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.  Even in front of the congregation.

2. If you write poetry, write a poem about God/faith/forgiveness/grace/mercy/love/prayer/fear/justice/etc. If you paint or sculpt, interpret a passage of Scripture.  If you dance, choreograph a praise song.  If you love to read, read a passage of Scripture or a story.  If you act, work with a writer in your congregation who wants to do a skit.  If you sing, by all means, sing a new song unto the Lord.  Whatever brings you joy and passion, bring that to worship, and not only will your worship experience be more meaningful and alive, your authentic worship will help others to worship too.

3. Be other-focused.  Your creativity is an act of worship, yes, but don't forget that the congregation is trying to engage in worship, and through your writing/dancing/painting/singing, you are leading worship, too.  So that poem with all of the literary and biblical allusions and cross-references and utter brilliance that leaps from one image to the next and requires several in-depth reads in order to fully understand... that one you might want to leave in the notebook. 

4. Talk to your tech-y people, your musicians, your video people, your dancers, your writers, your public speakers, and your photographers.  Collaborate with other members of the congregation and see if you can't approach a topic from several different angles-- some people engage with sound.  Some people with movement.  Some people are visual.  Some people are tactile.  Diversify your worship pallet to engage all of the senses, and not only will you help more of the congregation to connect, you'll build up each other as each of you continues to become the fullest version of yourselves in Christ.

5. Approach the throne of grace with humility, awe, prayer, shouts of thanksgiving, reflection, mourning, rage, distress, fear, and mystery.  Praise and worship is acknowledging God in every season, and it is good to lay before him the full range of our feelings and emotions.  It seems appropriate to me to reflect this same element of worship in the corporate worship setting.  Sometimes we need to mourn and wail together.  Sometimes we need to move from wailing to dancing.  Sometimes we need to stand in awe.  Sometimes we need to be silent.  Our worship planning ought to be sensitive to the place of the congregation.

6. Listen to the prayer team, pastor, and elders of your church and pray over your worship planning.  The Holy Spirit knows better than us all what needs to happen in our hearts and minds, so make time to listen before you leap into all of your amazing plans, which are truly amazing, after all. 

7. Don't get too caught up in presentation and execution.  Remember that what you are doing is worship, too, not just a means for other people to worship.

8. Don't be afraid to fail.  Allow the congregation and the worship team to flex its muscles, strain and push.  Some weeks, what you thought would be awesome might fall flat on its face.  Other weeks, what you thought might seem hastily planned could be the most authentic worship experience your church has had in months.

9. It's not your job to carry the congregation.  It is the Holy Spirit's responsibility to move in the members of your church, during worship and beyond.  You might be a catalyst for that experience, but surely the Holy Spirit will be speaking into the hearts and lives of those he knows are ready to hear and be so moved.  Worry less about how the congregation is going to respond to what you've prepared and concern yourself more with approaching God humbly, executing your part of the plan to the best of your ability, with grace and attention, as part of your act of worship.

10. You are part of the body of Christ, and every limb and nerve ending of the body doesn't need to be in motion all at once in order to be active.  Let parts of your worship team and plan take a break from time to time.

11.  Be intentional.  Just because you have the ability to do sound, lights, video, reading, full band, flags, dancing, communion and candles doesn't mean you should do them all at once.

12.  Do not give up meeting as some are inclined to do, but keep communicating with the members of your worship team and listen when someone volunteers or even hints at wanting to contribute, and follow-up with those people.  Sometimes us creative folk need an invitation, or several invitations, to come forward.  And if you are wanting to get involved, don't wait for an invitation.  Your desire to contribute is an invitaiton from God to get involved, so go with it.

13.  Encourage one another regularly.  Just because Joe has been leading worship awesomely for months doesn't mean he believes he's got this thing nailed.  Sometimes all we need is one or two attaboys to keep the energy up.

Above all else, come with love and grace.  We're all working toward completion and wholeness, and we're all going to screw up some time or another.  The beauty of the body of Christ is that we can hold each other up, forgive, heal, and be restored.  I'm not sure exactly how this last part applies to worship and creativity, but surely we can put love and grace in everything.

So bring your gifts to the altar and let them shine!  The whole church will grow in faith and praise alongside you.

Praise Sarah, From Whom All Blessings Flow...?

I'm having a hard time writing this blog because I want to sound cool. This is the trouble with confession - the idea is to humble yourself, not justify every little pip and squiggle. So here it is: your church service has revolved around one person for the last six months: me. I know you must feel so deceived - all along, I bet you thought you were there to worship God the Father and Jesus Christ his only begotten Son, but nooooo, it has all been about me. And most of the time, I haven't even been there to experience your glory and honor and praise.

It's become a habit of mine to pick apart my Sunday morning church experience - from the worship music to the slide shows to the sermon to the preacher to the decorations to the congregation. Whatever took place during the hour and a half timeslot (too short! too long!), rest assured that I will have found something that could have been done better.

Here comes the self-justification: I really didn't realize what I was doing until this weekend. Up until now, I've had a little twinge of unease about the ways I've criticized church, but mostly I felt like my critique was a constructive one. The trouble with this is I wasn't doing anything to actually improve the church experience. I didn't go to an elder or to the worship leader or to the pastor and share my incredible revelations. All of my great ideas about how to do church better dissipated like (excuse the expression) a fart in the wind.

It is true, and I've been here before. Dissatisfaction with church seems to creep up in waves, flowing freely when I am most comfortable in life and then ebbing again with the depth of my needs. When I feel secure, something happens so slowly that I don't even notice a shift. Then the tide goes out and bam, look at all of that seaweed.

The ebb and flow I'm describing is the cyclical swing between pride and humility - standing in the presence of holiness, we are humble and aware that everything that exists around us, me included, is beautiful because of grace. But when the shine wears off and we start to drift away, things start to look a little bit normal, bland, and boring, especially when compared to our relative awesomeness, which somehow survived the dimming that everything else seemed to undergo. When we no longer compare our lives with God's awesomeness, the next best option is to put ourselves in the place of awesomeness and compare ourselves with everyone else. And boy, I look gooooooood compared to you!

Thankfully, the Holy Spirit invites himself in to swing our pendulum back the other direction. Actually, it's not much of a swing, it's more like a punt. That's where I am now, ankle deep in sticky seaweed.

When the wave of criticism starts to rise inside me and I find myself dissatisfied with church, the answer isn't finding another church. The answer isn't abandoning church. It isn't necessarily running off a list of good ideas I've had in the last six months and sending them in an email to the deacon board, elders, and pastoral staff (No, I didn't do this. But I could! Let me know if you want to be CC'ed.).

The answer is remembering that I am not the focal point of Christianity or of life in general. It doesn't say, "love God by finding a congregation of people who will all behave in such a way as to fulfill Sarah's every whim." Weird that it doesn't, I know. It says to love God and love one another. Church isn't about me and my experience. This became very clear for me in the lines of a pastor quoted in Kathleen Norris's book, Amazing Grace. "We go to church for other people. Because someone might need us there."

Someone might need us there. There have been many a season when I have needed the people at church. What would I have done without them, all of them? Opting out of church because it isn't fulfilling every one of my expectations is selfish. Pride. I'll even say sin. And so, I confess that what began as minor critiques of how we can make Sunday morning worship glorify God even more turned into self-centered, prideful nit-picking that has served only to drain all of the lifeblood from my worship of God and engagement with the body of Christ.

Phew. It took a lot of paragraphs to get there, but I got there. The best thing about standing in seaweed on the beach is experiencing the sunrise. A sunrise over the ocean captivates us in such a way as to make the seaweed just something squishy we have to walk in for a time. And besides that, look how small I am compared to that! Not a belittling smallness, a healthy awareness of my relative importance, that I have the privilege to participate in this scene, even while I'm standing in seaweed.

This past Sunday, I entered our church with an enthusiasm and excitement that I haven't experienced in months. There was a purpose in going to church Sunday, and it had nothing to do with me for a change. What role am I to play in the body of Christ today? Prayer for the pastor? Prayer for the worship pastor? Complete surrender into the worship experience? A hug for a friend? A warm smile for a visitor? Dear God, who might need me here this Sunday? Show me how I can love you this morning. It was a transformative worship experience, and the only thing that changed was my position in it - from worshipping at my own feet to worshipping the God of the universe.

It is embarrassing how arrogant and prideful I can be and how easily I can make it pass for assertive and important. I am so thankful for how the Holy Spirit has moved, through Kathleen Norris and her book, through my prayer group, through my small group of fellow believers, and through my dear friends. It doesn't take much for me to let myself become the center of my own universe. It tends to take a lot to move me out of that spot. As much as I wish that God would have consulted me before he created the world, I am exceedingly grateful that I am not Sarah Almighty, that you are not reading the Gospel of Our Lady Sarah Wells, and that you have not actually been attending Sarah Wells Community Church for the past six months. Hallelujah!