Arts Conference

Well, it's the end of the school year teen lock- in going on outside my door, so I thought now is as good a time as any to share inspirational thoughts from the Willow Creek Arts Conference. Speakers were: Dr. Richard Allen Farmer, Francis Chan, Nancy Beach, Brian McLaren, & Gilles Ste-Croix.

Anyway, Dr. Richard Allen Farmer was hilarious. He took us on a virtual tour inside the artist's mind. The basic components seemed to be an insatiable curiousity, the ability to push (buttons, edges, envelopes, whatever), and the ever present fog. Another common attribute seemed to be the habit of taking two very different genres/styles/tempos, etc. and mesh them; the friction of which often causes yet a brand new art form.

He read from Harold Best's book, "Unceasing Worship", which I paraphrase, "Concerning the different styles of song, it is not the separation that is needed---a sort of apartaid of the arts---rather it is the creative friction that could bring the stylistic synthesis to the body of Christ that it so desperately needs. I want the diversity. I want the friction in my life. Some may say that people can't take that; that they need to go in one direction or the other. I disgree. People are not stupid and unable to adapt, accomodate, and appreciate."

And here I thought I hated labeling services either traditional or contemporary just because I felt it was divisive and lead to further uneducation of different styles/types of songs. It's nice to be cutting edge (even if I don't realize why). Ha!

I also went to a class on copyright law. After which I figured the only ministry left for me to do was prison ministry---from the inside. Seriously--- don't worry, we still may not be perfect in the future...but we are going to at least be several steps closer to the law. I am happy to report that, out of the six thousand present, I was one of the eight people who chose to go to such a left brained class. Northern Virginia is rubbing off on me after all.

recap

In trying to encourage my co-workers to also keep a blog, I often say...you don't have to write daily---just once every week or so is good too! Now I see that I'm past a month...way past. I'm still in recovery from Defining Moments III if you want to know the truth. First of all, there are certain people that I will always think of and pray daily that God keeps healthy...especially the 90 days before a production. People like the Kerby family...and Chad Davis...and Denise Rickard....and Valerie Chinn...and Katelynn Yoder....and Steve Church...and Jim Shifflett. And altho' they've now gone on to greener pastures, the Lawrence family should also be on that list. These are people who consistently (for some strange reason) take my phone calls day or night, let me ask them some random question re: the latest crisis in production- nightmare- land, give me advice, and then continue to work with me the next day whether their advice is heeded or not. I don't deserve such niceness. But I am grateful for it. There was something especially hard hitting and intense about the show this time. It was one punch after another. People still come up and want to say something nice about it but end up crying in the middle of their sentence. I feel that way too. Anyway, I think the words on the program are worth repeating:

"The amount of effort and dedication that each and every participant put into sharing their story this time has been truly mind boggling. There have been recordings & re-recordings, video tapings & re-video tapings...pictures gathered & songs carefully selected...props garnished & costumes borowed. I, for one, am humbled and grateful. Sharing our lives with each other takes an enormous amount of courage and time and trust. Let us never take that or each other for granted."

I usually only do things in groups of three, and this was to be the end of a trilogy...but of course...it is after watching one that more folks come forward with a story. I don't know....give me a couple of years. I'll think about it.

3 funerals in one week

In Kentucky, it seems the funeral homes are used much more than the church buildings. But I really prefer northern Virginia's way of doing it...after all, I can't think of a better place for this sort of thing than one's church home. As most of you know, my mom passed away a few hours before Bob, which made for an interesting work week. As the church staff went over the checklist in preparation for Bob's service, I was doing the same over the phone with my sister. Mom had actually given up on having much fun in life fourteen years ago when my Dad suddenly died. Even her final two favorite passtimes of eating out and shopping were reduced to a hospital bed in front of her soap operas the last several months. So, it was certainly expected, and in some ways, a relief. Still....Bruce finally told me the staff had decided it was time I leave and go mourn the passing of my mother like a normal person and quit hanging around the church. (He actually said it with much kinder words, but that was kinda the basic drift of it). I guess it is true I'm the Queen of Denial. For example, I couldn't wait to get out of the funeral home and go call mom so I could tell her what a lousy job they did with her makeup. (I couldn't even recognize her!) I already knew exactly what she would say..."Well, for Pete's Sake, you woulda thought they could do better than that, wouldn't you have? Didn't they have a picture?" But, of course, you can't call where she is from here. I was OK through the reading of the obituary and the recalling of her accomplishments. Then came the singing of "Blessed Assurance" , the opening measure of which my dad would whistle on his arrival home from work every evening. That's the moments when one remembers their upbringing. Mom's death marked the end of an era, which few from today's generation could possibly understand. She was the family matriarch, left over from a time when gift giving and gardening and advice giving was a career. I'll miss ya mom. I'm not sure you ever really understood this crazy little redhead you gave birth to...but it doesn't really matter. You loved me anyway.
See ya in heaven, Darla

near death experience (kinda)

So, anyway, here we were traveling out of the Grand Canyon National Park on our way to Flagstaff in two different rental cars (with me following my husband) last weekend. There was a horrible blizzard going on. Now I know enough not to slam on the brakes...but in trying to follow Dan...I almost followed him too well and needed to tap the brakes so I wouldn't run into him. That's all it took. No doubt the rental car from California with the "bicycle tires" was just too freaked out and did a fast 360 degrees deep into the median snow bank...only 4 feet from a concrete ravine complete with a 30 foot drop. Through his rear view mirror, Dan saw the whole thing. Of course, he stopped, backed up...and came running to see if he still had a wife. Once he saw I was OK, then started the "What in the world were you doing?" I had flashbacks to thirty years ago when we were traveling from Nashville back to Lexington after picking up new bridesmaid dresses in readiness for our upcoming wedding. There was a blizzard going on, and I had taken the wheel so he could rest his eyes for a little bit. All I can tell you is that the wind literally blew me off the road, so that Dan awakened from his nap to found us stuck in a huge snow drift. He asked the same question, "What in the world were you doing?" So here we are again, thirty years later, with him still "yelling" at me and saving my life at the same time. Who would have thought? Thirty years (probably close to the exact day since our anniversary is near), five kids, five practices, and five degrees later....
Life is wonderful. Anyway, I'm not saying I exactly had my life flash in front of my eyes...but I do remember asking God if I could somehow get home to my dining room table where all my photos and albums are sprawled out. I'd like to get that project done before I go to heaven.
I told Bruce that since my "near death" experience I had been really mellow. He said he couldn't tell any difference....he thought it would take at least 4 or 5 such experiences in a row to achieve much mellowness. (He's a pretty funny boss, huh?)

Winterfest once more...

Ah, the year comes full circle. Once again, I sit secluded (half hiding) in my office as Lisa and Ellyn coordinates the yearly drama of who gets to sit on which bus. They leave and quiet falls once more in the lobby of the church building. I pray for good weather, that the buses stay on the road, and that lives are changed for the good.

This weekend, as conversations are being had and new elders stand in readiness for a huge change in their life, it's amazing to see how fragile all life is...human life, church life, the ebb and flow of a congregation---a group of believers. I pray because it is the only thing I can do and because it is the most that I can do. It is all that I can do.

Did you know that worship means doing those things that tell God He is preeminant in your life? In other words, if something is not meaningful to you when doing it, it's not going to be seen as worship by Him. The reverse is also true. By the way, a couple of elders have found some interesting articles online regarding worship that they have been circulating. Let me know if you want to get in on the reading of those.

I stand corrected...

Apparently the broken hand incident was on the morning of Winterfest, not the teen lockin.... Which reminds me, Winterfest will soon be here, too. Did you know we're about to have a whole new involvement and integration program rolled out? I got to hear all about it this morning, and I think it sounds terrific!!! Anyway, at one point this dear volunteer looks at us and asks meekly if the staff could possibly help make reminder phone calls or emails. The short answer from the beleagered staff was...well, "no". I remember (back when I was a volunteer), I used to wonder how a church job could possibly have all the days of the week so jam full, too. Shortly before I was hired, at one point in my ignorance, I said something to Murray like, "I'm pretty hyper---I hope you can keep me busy." I think he almost burst into tears, and rightfully so. [Murray, if you reading this, my sincere apology for my past stupidity]. Anyway, I thought my "many" readers might find a partial list of my weekly chores interesting: staff meeting, confirm elders' mtg, log all hymns from day before, log volunteer hours for worship team/AV team/communion presiders, line up communion participants coming up, schedule AV team/praise team, help plan songs w/ worship leader, meet w/ Bruce & worship leader & do 4 week out planning, send out rehearsal schedule for any production coming up, plan rehearsal for SOS (puppets or improvisation), email out worship agenda, order and/or pickup any needed worship team supplies or SOS supplies, make notebooks if needed, get rehearsal room set up for Wed night, process worship budget bills, prepare auditorium for Sunday, approve proofs and order any needed banners/PR materials for upcoming sermon series, accompany worship team rehearsal, move all from rehearsal room back to Murray's office after Wed night, set up both puppet stages in teen & kids' room for Chad, handle my visitor contacts, write scripts for any needed videos (shoot footage & edit), & make sure mikes & sound & Apple computer & class signs are all out & ready for Sunday! And that's just the routine easy stuff. What's really hard is trying to pick out the perfect song for the kids to sing for Easter. I've listened to ten kids' C.Ds so far, and it's not going well. Actually, reviewing all the materials that come in takes a lot of time...and just about the time I turn on some video clips that might make for some teachable moments and be appropriate for upcoming topics....someone comes by and says, "man, I wish I had a job where I could watch TV." And that's when I try not to burst into tears. :)

A year ago...

Well, if you want to know the truth...Murray actually (I think) tried to set me up with a blog over a year ago. Unfortunately, I'm not the most adept person at navigating the computer world and I could never find my blog again. And it was just too embarressing to ask for help. What was I supposed to do...go to the information desk and ask, "excuse me, is there a blog in the lost and found?" Anyway, I did stumble upon it recently and thought I'd share what was happening in my life a year ago.

lock-in (or lock out?)
The loud music is blaring. Kids are screaming. I'm hiding in my office. I can only hope that Caleb's basically alive and healthy out there in the parking lot, not doubt wearing his flip-flops and shorts in this frigid weather. Thank God all this is happening at a church; else I'd be worried. Trust and community and friends and having my own hole in the wall are all wonderful things. Truly gifts from God.

I remember now, it was a teen lock in. Someone broke their hand hitting a block of ice outside. Hopefully that hand is healed by now. It's amazing how much can change in a year. A staff member said today, "the only constant we can count on is change". How true. Well, that and the fact that the Father is still in control. From the moment I walked into this church almost 12 years ago, I could sense that it was on the brink of true greatness... just waiting for permission to be all that God intended. Soon there will be new elders and eventually new staff. The potential is absolutely mind boggling. I'm looking forward to February because it is going to be a month of prayer. Prayer, in my growing up years, meant nothing to me other than some kindly old church member shuffling forward to mumble some tried and true verbage. I wasn't sure what the point was. But real prayer has been proven to have real power...real power. As a body, as a family, as a group of believers, do we actually believe that? Or is it just one more nice little phrase we use as a good luck charm--- just in case? To tell you the truth, I'm pretty sure we can do nothing without it. The church moves forward on its knees.