I am preparing to go to my once-every-two-years family reunion in Colorado (I can never remember if that means bi-ennial or bi-annual). For those of you who know my mother's maiden name, it is a big deal when that many people gather together using that name. Last time our reunion sign got stolen from my aunt's front yard. Front yard of what we affectionately term "the compound" because they have bought about 6 adjoining lots with homes in order to house all the family for the reunion and their various guests who come from Hong Kong during the remainder of the year.

I am looking forward to good food cooked by someone else. Specialties such as steamed/grilled corn rubbed with lime or this really good Indian spice (fast street food in India). I am panting for the pool and cooler climate and the wide open beautiful skies. The compound is on top of a mesa so it allows for an unobstructed view. I anticipate the conversations with cousins and aunts/uncles who are spread across the globe. I am smiling just thinking about how fun it will be to be there with Xavier, my much-loved nephew, as the family-at-large meets him for the first time. And a whole week with my husband!

Life is good.

Was just on Aaron Klinefelter's blog. Noticed for the first time a similarity between blog names and bumper stickers. I wonder, "for the one title that will introduce you to the entire internet community, why did you choose ______________?" Especially when they are negative. Such as "__________ sucks". Do you really want to be defined by what you hate? Anyway, if you want to listen to somebody rant and rave, just ask my husband John how he feels about bumper stickers.

I've got this little handy-dandy devotional book that my mom gave me. In the past, I might have rejected this sort of thing.... (get into the Word yourself and dig deep!) but the way my life is right now, it seems like some days I can hardly make it to the one-minute version of time with God. This morning's entry was about praising God every day based on Ps 146. He is worthy of praise despite my circumstances of the day. Well, what do you know but I come into work and get blasted by someone else's crisis (that they want to make my crisis). I hadn't even put my lunch in the fridge yet and the day went to "hell in handbasket" (what does that mean anyway?). And do you know, the verse and encouragement of the morning came back to me. Praise God today. Praise Him now in the midst of my heart pounding and my blood boiling because I'm mad. Lord, thank you for today, even though my circumstances lead me to feel like it is not so good a day, because reality is that You are good and powerful and worthy and amazing. You are faithful in all You say and You are gracious in all You do.

We had one of those nice relaxed family holiday get-togethers at the lake over the July 4 weekend. (It really was nice; I am fortunate to have a family I enjoy being with.)

Highlights included seeing nephew baby Xavier paddling around in this inflatable yellow thing with a yellow hat reminiscent of a duck, going around the lake on a pontoon boat, a golf scramble with 3 family teams and a goofball award ceremony. Another favorite was the family gift to Bill Jones (my sister's husband's father who owned the lake cottage). He is an ob/gyn physician and we presented him with a sign for his office: "Dr. Jones...at your cervix."

John and I had some good conversations in the car on the 4 hour drive home. Usually when we try to think of baby names (hey, this kid is coming!) the discussion degenerates into thinking of the most ABSURD names possible. Like....Kookamonga or Blue or....I can't even think of them because the absurd ones usually come from my husband's mouth.

We rested on 4th of July and then I went to the House of Prayer. The Lord had a special gift for us that night...Sandie mentioned some things in the car that became a theme for the evening. Mike sang his own "Declaration of DEpendence". The only way we can be free is to be His "slave", to completely belong to Him. We prayed that there would be no hesitation or question in the way that we follow Him. Jesus is worthy! Oh, if we could only see the Man with eyes like flames of fire. He is the Beautiful Flame, the Beautiful Fire!

It reminded me of Blaise Pascal describing a moment when the Holy Spirit revealed the Beautiful Flame to him.

I quote A.W. Tozer on Pascal, "He was considered a genius in mathematics, and his scientific inquiry was broad. He was a philosopher and a writer. But best of all, he experienced a personal, overwhelming encounter with God one night that changed his life.

Pascal wrote on a piece of paper a brief account of his experience, folded the paper and kept it in a pocket close to his heart, apparently as a reminder of what he had felt. Those who attended him at his death found the worn, creased paper. In Pascal’s own hand it read: From about half-past ten at night to about half-after midnight—fire! O God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob—not the God of the philosophers and the wise. The God of Jesus Christ who can be known only in the ways of the Gospel. Security—feeling—peace—joy—tears of joy. Amen"

I looked at my garden this morning...it sadly shows signs of neglect. However, I'm a bit busy growing this little person in me (the size of a fist now) and it is taking most of my energy.

I'm asking the Lord to show me the spiritual metaphors in pregnancy. Usually what He does in the natural world has spiritual correlations. Last night at Cincinnati House of Prayer, He showed me that the Vine (Jesus) is our umbilical cord to connect us to the Father and the heavenlies. As long as we are on the earth, we've got to stay connected to the Vine in order to live. When we are "birthed" into our new life in heaven, we will be with Him and won't need that umbilical cord any longer. I told Mike and Sandie about it in the car on the way home, and Mike remarked that with this metaphor, it means our entire life here on earth is pre-natal!

The quote below was sent to me...I like it....

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, glass of wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO, what a ride!"

Well, lame lame lame. I have not written on here for several months, as my old friend John McCollum pointed out to me today in an unexpected divine appointment.

What is going on? It feels like spring in my heart. Things are budding and becoming alive again. Can't name it all but I feel the stirrings. If there was one word that could summarize last year... it was suffering. All my energy went toward survival and grief.

The Lord reminded me today that at Easter I had gone to "my tree" (a special tree in Spring Grove Cemetary that is a metaphor to me) . When I looked at the tree, barren and stripped from a long winter, the Lord said, referring to me being like the tree, "she looks dead, but she's not dead". Inside the tree was all of the strength for spring and all of the beginnings of leaves and buds, but the outside looked so bare and forgotten.

Last year, I looked dead, but I was not dead. Now is spring and summer, and I no longer look dead. My gifts of prayer and prophecy and intimacy are beginning to show again and it feels good to be alive and thriving.

Reflections on Psalm 8

O Yahweh, my King,
Your name shouts out who You are throughout the earth!
Worthy One, Amazing One, excellent in every way.
Your shining light floods the universe
from my living room to Your throne room.

Babies like Xavier, nursing and helpless and utterly dependent,
are the ones who know how to praise You best.
They just are... and they just receive...
no agenda, no doubts or fears.
They don't question why they are loved,
they just accept it.
And because You have made true wisdom to be foolishness to man,
You have made these little ones to be
the very epitome of strenth in Your kingdom.
This shuts up the enemy - the one who preens
and makes a big show of appearing "strong" and unbeatable.

Let me be small. Let me be humble.
Let me be utterly dependent on You,
helpless and hungry for Your every look and Your faithful nourishment.

Who am I that You would even think of me?
That You would give me a family and ministry and hope for the future?
Your love is amazing!

O Beloved, my King,
Your name shouts of who You are throughout the earth!

I breathe in the wide open sky.
Beloved, pull back the cloudy curtain to the blue beyond;
take me to where my soul can expand.
I want to chase those sunbeams to where they began.

(drive to Columbus 2/23/05)

Whoa, three blog postings in a month! Aaron's going to fall over from shock.

Speaking of Aaron, I know he would encourage me to write my thoughts from the past weekend of "A Conversation with Eric Herron". The conversation was loosely structured and revolved around these words "Missional Worship Artist".

Here's some of my favorite important thoughts:

Worship= a wholehearted response to God with accurate understanding of who He is and what He does

Worship Artist = a skilled maker who makes things that COMPEL others to worship God

(I've never really considered myself to be an artist, but with the above definitions, my little prayer poem efforts make the cut :)

Art = is a process not just the artifact or result.
Creating art is like taking light with a magnifying glass and focusing it on something specific. The artist creates a symbol/artifact and then the receiver receives it. But then there is the meaning. The meaning connects it all. Will the receiver get the meaning? Will the receiver surpass the artist's intention?

Interesting perspective: Dorothy L. Sayers in Mind of the Maker said that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are like the process of creativity. The Father is abstract and invisible. The Son is the artifact made, the Incarnate Word, the visible image of the invisible God. The Holy Spirit is the brooding force, like the meaning of the creative process.

The Mission of God = to create more worshippers (not get more to pray the sinner's prayer, fill your church pew, etc)

Some conclusions....
Conclusion 1 - Each of us is like an instrument adding our own sound when He breathes into us.

Conclusion 2 - In the end, we will all worship together! Worship is a sliding scale....right now we are in the shallow end of the pool (when worshipping corporately or alone) but when we see Him face to face, we'll finally be in the deep end of the pool. And we'll be together - entire body of Christ worshipping corporately.

Each sound adds to the orchestra of heavenly worship. We're meant for the orchestra!!

Conclusion 3 - Our purpose as worship artists? To create more worshippers....to create in skilled way that COMPELS others to worship.

Here is my first attempt to link two passages that we discussed coming home from Monday night House of Prayer: Psalm 133:1-2 and Ps 45:2 (which we were singing).


Behold,
how good and pleasant it is
when brothers live together
in unity!
It is like the precious oil poured on the head,
running down on the beard,
running down on Aaron's beard,
down upon the collar of his robes.

Precious oil, sacred oil
poured out in heady perfume.
The mystical anoints with mystery.
As the fragrance rises,
the divine unites with humanity.

Oh Jesus,
You are fairer than the sons of men;
grace is poured upon Your lips....
It is like precious oil poured out,
kindness running down the beard,
favor running down on Your beard,
generosity filling Your mouth and spilling,
spilling upon Your garments and Your people.

Precious oil, sacred oil
poured out in heady perfume.
The Beautiful anoints with grace.
As the fragrance rises,
You unite with us.

-2/16/05 Kendra Barrow

On New Year's Eve, I had gotten a fresh word from the Lord, "Suddenly, a new season". I didn't know if it was for someone else, or for us. I'm thinking it is for us.

Two little parts: "Suddenly" and "a new season". With incredible rapidity, our booming housechurch birthed a new one and then quickly died itself. John and I find ourselves, after a decision to formally close down Identity housechurch, in a position similar to "man without a country". Actually, in a very ironic way, similar to the main character in the movie Terminal, which we just watched last night. Joy and sorrow. Emotion and logic. Thoughts of the flesh battle thoughts of the spirit. Pride in new leadership and new beginnings. Excitement for our own unknown journey. Loss of what has been known.

And with incredible rapidity, John's parents have come to stay off and on in our upstairs apartment. The last few days have been ones of joy and richness for our family.

We're entering a new season.... rapidly. Suddenly, everything has changed.

Now we must put our "money where our mouth is". We choose daily to trust Him. He is an ever-present help in times of trouble. He is our Guide, our Comforter. He knows me and He loves me still. The words of our own VC song echo in my ear, "I will follow You, where You lead me...."

I found a poem from long ago...one that I thought was lost. This prayer seems like one of those books I reread every few years: dog-eared and well loved.

3/16/00
sweet spirit - i believe.
give a language to these groans,
these slippery unformed thoughts.
make flesh and bones of my cries,
that all petitions would be fully formed before
the father's piercing gaze.

o holy light, who placed in me this burning,
may your will be done in each
ripple of man, family, country, world, and the
uttermost of the heavens.
sweep your love across the skies of deaf and dumb,
dreamer, skeptic,
and with it, perfect glory.