TV preachers often have bad reputations, and I think it's because of
people like the guy who's been asking people to give $50+ million so that he
can buy a new private jet. Seriously? I think I've completely lost respect for
the guy.
In contrast, the pastor of my church -- who happens to preach on TV --
told us yesterday that our church building's debt is completely paid off now. That's
awesome. I'm not debt-free yet (far from it!), but I sure am glad that my
church building is. And they didn't even ask for donations for that particular
item in the budget.
Incidentally, Jesus didn't ask for donations to buy a donkey. From what
I understand, He just borrowed one for a one-time ride. But, you know, whatevs.
----------------------------
The content that I'm about to share in this segment of the casserole is
very deep and personal to me, so I debated on whether or not I should share it
at all. But since this is basically my online diary where I process and
document stuff, and since the things going on in my life could hopefully
encourage somebody else on their journey (and since I felt like God nudged me
to share it), I'm gonna go for it. And, due to copyright issues, I'm going to
keep some details vague on purpose.
A few days ago, an out-of-state church held a conference in my area, and
my church choir was invited to sing along with the worship team one night. The
fact that they were recording live tracks for their new album -- with our
voices -- was extra cool.
During soundcheck that afternoon, I recognized the melody from one of
their new songs -- from my head! I had been wanting to write a song around
almost that exact portion of the melody. So, for a few seconds, I was jealous.
(Hey, that's my song!) Then I realized that since nobody ever sings my songs,
anyway (except me), I'm glad that that particular melody will be recorded and
sung by somebody. (I mean, it's not like the out-of-state church people invaded
my living room while I was composing and stole my tune.) Then I realized... wait. I actually hear stuff?
I've been writing worship songs off and on for the past 20 years. The closest
I've ever come to cutting an album was the one time when a friend set up a mic
in another friend's living room; I sat on the floor with my guitar and played
my repertoire for a couple of hours. (I still have the CD, but its content is
pretty raw and unedited, like a collection of demos.)
A few years after that amateur recording session, I was part of a
worship team, and I got to lead one of my songs one evening for a
church-department gathering. I believe it was the pastor of that department who
approached me after the worship set and told me that a line in my song was
theologically incorrect.
So, I wrestled with that for a while (because the whole point of me
including that line in my song was to express my heart to God). I even met with
the worship pastor at that church, I think to ask for his counsel. He explained
that as a songwriter, people are always going to suggest new lyrics for your
songs whenever you sing them publicly... but that he could understand why some
people could take that one line in the song the wrong way.
So, I ended up revising that song twice. I've been happy with the final result, but nobody really sings it but me. (My poor little Frankensong. Heh.)
One thing that God has been showing me lately is that my church isn't
going to sing all of my songs, and I need to be OK with that. (I've been at my
church for almost nine years now, and lots of people write songs that nobody really
sings anymore... so hopefully I'm in good company.)
At any rate, I haven't written music in a long time, and I'm nowhere
near as prolific as I once was. (I think maybe a pastor telling me that my
lyrics were theologically incorrect kind of threw a wrench in the works for a
while.) Hopefully, songwriting is one of my talents that have been in the bank
collecting interest in the spirit of Matthew 25.
But I think that might change soon.
As I was saying, my choir sang along with the worship team from an
out-of-state church during a conference one night. When we got to the song
where I recognized the melody from the song that I had wanted to write, God
told me, "Watch this." After a few moments, I realized that one
phrase from the first verse and another phrase from the second verse are also
in ANOTHER one of my songs -- my poor little Frankensong that nobody sings but
me.
At every stage of development -- from the accidentally theologically
incorrect version to the final version -- I've sung that song to God dozens if
not hundreds of times throughout the years. But on that platform, while my
choir was singing with the out-of-state church, God poured that song back to
me.
And I finally remembered that I HAD written that song with the cool
melody after all. (I had just forgotten about it. Cuz we artists can be spacey
like that.) So, in that one new song were not one but TWO of my songs.
So, while we were singing that song, written by people from the
out-of-state church, sounding a lot like my music, I felt like God asked me,
"Are you ready to start something new?"
While I've sung on the worship platform with my church, there have been
two or three moments between me and God that were so deep that I ugly-cried,
sobbing almost uncontrollably. That night was one of those moments. (If you
hear sobbing on the new album, it might be me.)
I felt like that very special night validated me as a songwriter. This
out-of-state church is known worldwide for its music, and if I can hear the
same musical frequency that they can, then I'm not a screw-up. I have all the
tools I need to proceed with that aspect of my calling.
----------------------------
I think one theme or motif of my life right now is vindication. Every
time I see a certain Baptist leader in the news (the guy who has messed-up
views on women and abuse), I remember that he was the guy who fired Dad. His name
was not a popular one in my house while I was growing up, mainly because Dad's
layoff launched an extended poverty in our family. (And possibly because Mom
never really learned how to forgive people.)
So, now that his name isn't exactly a popular one in the entire Baptist
community anymore, well... let's just say what goes around comes around.
----------------------------
I think it's simultaneously interesting and ironic that God gifts shy,
introverted people with creativity -- a gift that requires an audience. I might
be a private and reserved person who keeps to herself a lot, but if you put a
mic in my hand and put me on a worship platform at church, people will look at
me. The irony is that I don't really want everyone to look at me; I'd rather be
in my living room singing or creating something by myself. But it's interesting that someone
like me who's terrible at making small talk and chitchatting with people has a
calling with a built-in conversation-starter: "Hey, you sing on the
worship team!"
But I love the worship platform. I feel like the more I show up and do
my thing, the more confident I am when I do it. And, of course, the whole point
of me being up there is for people to look at me, for me to point people to
God, and for people to be encouraged to worship Him. When people look at me,
they need to see Him.
Unfortunately, I don't think everyone realizes that that's the whole
point of being on the platform. I've learned that when you have a mic in your
hand and a camera in your face, you instantly become a celebrity. When people
see you in the hallways at church, they feel like they know you, and they start
talking to you. Sometimes they offer you some pretty heavy flattery. I've seen
people kind of make fools of themselves when they're in the presence of a
worship leader who's just minding their own business at church.
And then a few weeks later, you show up for church on your day off in a
T-shirt and blue jeans, and they completely ignore you because you're just
another face in the hallway.
And all of that is OK. As long as people worship God and I don't get in
the way, it's all good. I wouldn't trade that for anything else.
----------------------------
One morning while I was waking up, I saw MeepMeep's adorable little masked
face in the dark, and I thought to myself, It's
almost impossible to say No to that face. I felt like God basically said,
"I feel the same way about you."
I think this truth is still steeping into my spirit. If I'm God's
child, He wants me to be bold enough to ask Him for stuff. (Like MeepMeep
demanding some affection as soon as I wake up.) He wants me to be brazen enough
to approach Him for things, to ask some tough questions, and to express my
heart to Him in ways that I can't express to anyone else.
He delights in me. He wants to be close to me. He wants to make sure
that I have everything I need. And He feels that way about ALL of His children.
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