Sheryl Crow is Also a Strummer

When I was 14, I bought a vintage Ibanez from this podunk music store in Cheraw. I don't know how to pick out notes, I don't know how to change strings, but in 12 years, I've figured out how to strum out some pretty heavy chords and have even accompanied elementary students in "Lunch Lady Land" (hogies and grinders, hogies and grinders, navy beans, navy beans, meatloaf sandwich...). Last fall, my dad sent a letter. He's a man of few sentimental words. I've always known that he loves me more than he can express, despite the fact that I was pretty rotten to him growing up. We don't ever talk about how much we care for each other. I don't thank him enough for what he continues to provide for me. We only hug when I'm done throwing everything back in my Jeep to drive back to Charleston after a too-short weekend at the parents' house. Anyway, in the mass letter to four of his six children, Dad wrote "please don't ever forget the importance of worship and of having worship be a primary focus of your life." He also wrote about geraniums and retirement and his blood pressure, but it was his plea for us to embrace our Lord through worship that had a great impact on me. I share this with the one and a half people who read this blog because as of late, when I am looking for "productive" things to do, I find my guitar in my hands - strumming the chords to Hosanna or Mighty to Save. And while I don't sing along (I'm a hummer), for the moments that my fingers are growing calloused on the strings of my vintage Ibanez, I am transported to a place of praise. At night when I am too weary to open His word, I turn to my ipod and pray that God would receive my praise through the words that the musicians sing for me. My parents gave me the gift of appreciation of music a long time ago. I hope that they know how much that appreciation, and the $150 vintage Ibanez that I had to work for through dish washing and leaf-raking has changed my heart. So now, to my one and a half friends who read this: please don't ever forget the importance of worship and having worship being a primary focus of your life. It is through worship that we gain intimacy with Our Creator, Our Redeemer, Our Savior.

My heart says of you, "Seek his face!" Your face, Lord, will I seek. Ps. 27:8

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What Happens at the Greek Festival Stays at the Greek Festival

First and foremost, nothing happened at the Greek Festival, save for the fact that my assistant principal bought me delicious Greek beer and told me that if he could be anywhere during the school day, it would be my classroom, being entertained by my teaching. That's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me!
I had absolutely no intention of blogging tonight. I am tired. It is Monday. Those sentences are synonymous! But I've started reading the latest book club selection, Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer and quite honestly have never been so disturbed by anything I've read in my life. Since graduate school, I've become an avid reader. I consider this a blessing because it calms my mind (normally) and builds my vocabulary (somewhat). The problem with reading for me is that once I start reading a text, I am absolutely committed. Under the Banner of Heaven, from what I can tell 100 pages in, is a documentary of the Mormon faith with a focus on Mormon Fundamentalism. I don't really understand any form of Fundamentalism. I went to a college where Southern Baptist Fundamentalism was somewhat evident. It bothered me then...the appearance of being so intense about faith that there at some point is a departure from Truth. So tonight, as I set the book aside and prepared for my devotions, it became apparent to me that what I crave, what I long for, and what I seek is Truth.
All of this was running through my mind as I flipped open by Beth Moore Study, David: 90 Days with a Heart Like His (shameless plug) and and my trusty Schofield to read about how the Israelites rejected God (not Samuel) when they asked for a king; they genuinely wanted something that was not in God's plan.
Humble me, Lord, that I might accept YOUR way and not my own. That I would let You be King. Samuel always obeyed. Guide me through the doors You have opened. Let me not kick down the ones I'd like to see ajar.
"Faith sometimes means forgoing our desires because we trust Christ to have a better plan for our lives." (BM)
Truth can very easily be whatever one makes it out to be. That is the essence of faith. But faith in my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ means that I accept that it is He who brings Truth. Not Joseph Smith. Not Oprah. Not Dr. Oz. Not spiritual leaders with their own agendas.
As I have typed this, Weezie has wet the bed. I will have a classroom full of 21 eager and dependent 8-year olds tomorrow. My coffee will begin to percolate at 6:00am. My rent check will be 5 days late because I could not find a Forever stamp. These are all truths.
But, praise the Lord, these are minuscule truths compared to His grace, Love, and Plan for all of us. May we "see that times of difficulty or decision in our lives are meant, by Your sovereign love and mercy, not to pressure us into impatience but to rather grow into patience and endurance."

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Psalm 61:2

"What do you think was your character flaw?" I had not seen my friend, Adair, in over a year and this was the first question she asked after the crowd dissipated and there were only three of us left. I'm always impressed that God takes me to "home" to hear questions like this - questions that are never easy to answer and lead to days of pondering, prayer, and reconciliation.
"I was sad," was my response. Not exactly a character flaw, but I was telling the truth; sadness was certainly the condition in which I placed myself for most of my adolescence. It was no one's fault but my own. And I'm thankful that I can take a step back and see how It is God who has completed me, Who dominates my heart, and fills me with His Spirit so that I feel like if I were to be bumped, It is He Who would pour out of me. That is my hope anyway.
But the character flaw question I'm still having a hard time with. I trusted the wrong people, for sure. I misstepped and had a quick tongue. I alienated myself from people because I was scared of what they might teach me. All the while these thoughts occur to me, a voice keeps saying, "You can't think of one not because you didn't have any - you had many - but because you are forgiven and are living anew in Me."
One of the greatest blessings of my job comes in the form of my friend, Charsie, who comes by at the same time everyday to interrupt my science lessons, during which I'm usually accidentally misinforming my students on the ways of the world. Charsie and I come from very different backgrounds and have led very contrasting lives. But each morning, when I get to school, she is the first one I speak to and praise God, our words often turn to what He is doing in our lives! We recently started the Bible study David: 90 Days with a Heart Like His. It is only Day 7 and already I feel the Lord working in me! What a blessing it is to meet with a friend daily to exchange how we are gaining intimacy with the Lord through His word.
This all brings me to a verse that I came across in my reading:

From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint;

lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

That, folks, is my character flaw. A reluctance to call out; a tendency to believe that I can handle life on my own. I did it my entire adolescence...I cried out not to my Lord and Savior, who I invited into my life when I was six years old, but to people who could do nothing for me because they are not Him. I am not Him. I am not a Rock.

Recumbency. I first came across this word in a Bible study, Becoming a Woman of Grace. The word encompasses the Puritan belief that true reliance on God means to, lie down, face to the ground, on the Solid Rock. I've referred to Seneca Hills in my blog before and my last visit there coincided with an awesome spiritual event that sparked my journey down this road of really praying that God would change my heart into one like His. I walked down to the creek ("crick" if you're in western Pennsylvania) and picked up a smooth rock. I held it in my hand for the 13 hour drive back to Charleston and prayed for the first time that I would let God lead. I commited there, driving my Jeep, with a smooth rock in my hand, to lie down. To fully submit. And to let the Lord be Lord. Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I.

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