unafraid

There is this man at my church who sings in our little choir. He sings loud and he throws his hands in the air. His mood always suits the music. No one could ever accuse this man of being unenthusiastic. He participates in his singing with all of his being. He looks strange, and sometimes I even get the church laughs, but mostly I am just jealous of his raw inhibitions. If I could only be so brave.
Of course, there is the issue of chaos in worship. I went to a revival once where a very loud man ran around the church placing his hand on willing (and unwilling) attendees yelling out the word “fire”. People were falling down all around me. I was scared. This man eventually came to me, forcing his palm against my forehead, yelling those same words to me. I just stood there- and I was the only one standing for rows and rows. There were a few nearby swatting something, I found my way to a chair near them, but it did not take me long to realize that they too had been taken by the holy spirit. They were swatting it away, dodging it like a big bumble bee. I eventually told my friends I would be outside. I walked across the street and ate a Subway, and I would have smoked a cigarette if I had one.
But this man is not chaotic. He is just strange and unafraid to show it. I, too, am strange. My husband says so all the time, and anyone who knows me well would say so as well. But, I go to church and sit in my pew. I sing quietly. I never pray out loud. I hide my weirdness with quietness.
I suppose this brings me to the issue of identity. So much of the way I act in worship is motivated by fear. Fear of someone hearing my weak prayers. Fear of someone seeing my raw acts of worship. So much fear. I don’t know why I get so afraid, but I am sure it has something to with not getting who I am to God.
I still think that revival was weird, and I have never seem someone swat the holy spirit since that night. But this man, though his worship at times might resemble a holy spirit swatter, seems to know and love God unabashedly. This is something I look forward to on Sunday. The community of worship, this man, who helps me be less afraid.

my sister

my sister now has a blog It is titled midnight runs. I, like my sister have an infatuation with Mcdonalds coke. I am not sure what their little secret is, but the fizz to coke taste ratio is nothing less than perfect. Not to syrupy. not to gassy. just right. another thing my sister and I love, (that she has yet to admit to on her blog) is our love for fish filet sandwiches from Mcdonalds. Yes, that greasy little fish sandwich with a lump of tarter sauce all wrapped up in the baby blue wrapper. This is our little secret, and we will gladly drive late at night to indulge in this nasty little habit. Hence, the title of Whitney's blog. Whitney is a lot of fun and has seemingly inherited the perpetual youth gene for our family. Her fun-ness is important to me and helps me walk a little lighter. It is good that God puts us in families. He must know how incomplete we would be without each other. families remind us of seasons, the "time for's" of our life. and whit and I would both agree there is a time for coke, at mcdonalds, preferably midnight, any day of the week.

green for spring

It is sunny here today in the STL and almost 70 degrees. In light of this glimpse into spring, I have updated my "colors" to suit the mood. Green it is. For a good laugh, click....hilarious.
http://www.whiteboydj.com/babygotbook/

a long pause

Sorry for the silence during the holidays. We have been gone alot- and then recovering from being gone. It is also so rainy up here this winter. and cold. yuck. I need a beach. Josh and I saw a good movie over the holiday- Spainglish. Perhaps most enjoyed after a week with family- a way to "process" the dysfunction that is us. This movie, with its sad realities, also allows for a few laughs. You just have to laugh at times at your life. A bundle of giggles we all are. I think Annie Dillard writes somewhere that day after day God watches "our dancing bear act" without blowing us to peices, that believe it or not, it's ok to be people. I suppose she means thats its ok to be a mess, that Jesus loves us-still. Happy new year folks.