This Little Piggy Went a Preachin’

A little story about a pig has wrecked me in a big way.

Never have I felt more understood than by this pig. Her story will preach.

I have shared openly here the tension I experience in being a woman called to ministry. I’ve never felt quite at home with my calling. It has simultaneously felt like it would destroy me to do it and destroy me if I don’t. It is a calling that is equal parts courage and cowardice. From this too, Jesus is in the process of saving me.

This weekend I will saunter my courage and cowardice up front and out in front of everyone to teach the church.  It will be my first time (well, from the “pulpit” that is). Everyone asks, “Are you excited?” “Are you nervous?” No. Neither. More like filled with the faith of a scaredy-cat chicken pig. On one hand, I’ve been told for so many years that I couldn’t or shouldn’t, that now that I am, I hope I don’t prove any of them right. On the other hand, the Word is beautiful and my confidence in His faithful ministry to the people is steadfast.

I’m feeling a whole lot of vulnerability. Showing up and being seen is always vulnerable. I will be less than perfect, but enough because of Jesus. Some people won’t like it, but I will still be fully loved and welcomed by Jesus. Inside I will probably feel like dying, but I’ll do it anyways because I am truly believing that these kinds of “deaths” are the only way to true living.  I’m believing that He who calls, equips. I’m believing that there are other women (and young girls) who need to see courage give a good left hook to fear and all the “girls shouldn’t…” rubbish. I’m believing that rejection (ironically the topic of my sermon) is a lesser truth than the grace and glory Jesus seeks to reveal through heartfelt obedience. I am fully convinced that wherever silence has felt like bondage, the voice of truth longs to bring liberty.

In the end, all that matters is not at all what I feel or believe; all that really matters is that Jesus will matter more to those who listen. To that end, this little piggy will preach.

No Filter Friday {Random Thoughts about Football, Church, and Authenticity}

To begin with, a little sports update: 

It’s no secret I’m a Seahawks fan. #gohawks! There’s a very interesting off-the-field development surrounding Marshawn Lynch and his ongoing refusal to talk with the media. I find it befuddling that we flaunt our societal value of authenticity yet criticize Lynch for his silence.  Why does anyone care what the dude has to say? He’s not a politician or a professor–he’s an {introverted} football player. I wonder how many of us would want to give an exit interview after a long day at the office…every day.

And to the surly butcher at the market who practically wielded a knife at me yesterday–I’m truly sorry your Chargers aren’t in the Super Bowl and I know you had more short ribs in the back for someone who isn’t a Seahawks fan. #calmdown

How do you respond to failure? If like me it undoes and flattens you, you must go watch this video of Clayton Kershaw accepting his MVP and Cy Young awards and wait for the very last line. There is much to learn in this speech about vulnerability, honor, humility, team, and the measure of true greatness. Show it to your kids. Tear a page out of his manual for your own life.

Church-y stuff: 

This week I have been in many conversations with my church peeps and a common thread is running through the words–God is at work. The work is deep, sometimes painful, and terribly discomforting. These conversations have helped me to see how quick we are to bandage up wounds that need a deeper healer. God’s work of binding up the brokenhearted is something much more profound than a conciliatory bandaid and a quick kiss on the forehead. He is not about a simple fix but lasting transformation. Stay with Him, friends. I know the work hurts. On the other side of the pain there is healing…there is a Healer.

I read this interview of Erin Lane and was stirred by this quote of hers:

I worry, though, about whether we’re doing enough to interact with people who don’t inhabit our particular lifestyle enclaves. I don’t see many examples of rich involvement in public spaces that are open to strangers and friends alike. That’s one of the unique features of the church, at least right now, that it offers a common space between your private friends and the larger community. I think we’re losing some of those rich public spaces where anyone can show up, regardless of fitness or food preferences or economic status and ability to work.

I see this at work in my own life and it’s giving me considerable pause. What can be done to create more common space and how can we invite people into it in such a way that it offers true welcome and acceptance? I wonder what would happen if we would all just calm down about our differences and be secure enough in our convictions to allow for divergency of preference. Friendship is sterilized when we objectify and classify one another according to camps, shared interests, and common allegiance to the same opinion.

I know it’s the spirit of the age to scrutinize and critique, but suspicion and cynicism do not exactly communicate, “Come on in! We welcome you!” Possibly before we are able to create common space we will have to do the hard work of ridding ourselves of the judgments that shoo away hospitality. It will maybe feel a little risky, unsafe…vulnerable–but we can do this.

That leads me back to my first thought about authenticity. We love authentic people, so long as they look just like us. That kind of authenticity requires no patience, no kindness; no love. If we are compelled at all by the words of Jesus, “Love one another as I have loved you” then it might help us if we rephrased this command, “Go find an enemy and make them a friend.” Because after all, that IS how he loved us.