Dancing For the Lord

Last night our family attended Faith Quest Redux – a reunion for people who love and support the Labor Day gathering of Northwest teens. Never to disappoint, the worship team set the stage for the audience to be lifted into a state of holy worship.

It is not always easy as a parent to join in with the corporate worship experience (okay – it is always hard); but rather than lose heart and hide out for the next decade or so, Allan and I continue to expose ourselves and our children to environments that foster group worship. It is a challenging balance to do so without deterring others from their own chance to focus on praise, especially I imagine, in our church heritage, which tends to worship with a more reverent than enthusiastic style.

At Redux last night there came a time when the kids and I were behind the partition in the back of the room and began to do what comes most naturally to children when music is joyful and high volume – we danced. We spun, we waltzed, we leapt as we sang to the Lord. It was a sacrifice of praise that brought smiles to our faces, and, more importantly, I imagine to the Lord’s as well.

A good friend of mine comes from one of those more expressive church families. Where Church of Christ sings with amazing voice, her heritage uses a lot of body movement to pray and praise. I would love us to find comfort with both. I love the gift of singing that has been fostered in our church heritage; it would be a tremendous blessing for me if we were able to begin working the other muscles in these creative bodies we have been given for the glory of the Father.

And David danced before the Lord with all his might, wearing a priestly garment. So David and all the people of Israel brought up the Ark of the Lord with shouts of joy and the blowing of rams’ horns.
2 Samuel 6: 14-15

The Great Rose City

This morning's hottest New York Times online article is titled 36 Hours in Portland, Ore. Our city looks like so much fun! What a great way to spend a weekend sometime. Of course, they would need to add "9:30 a.m. Sunday: worship services at PUMP Church of Christ" to really get the full experience.

Mary Had a Little... Easter Dinner

Holidays tend to bring out the Martha in me. Come on - don't you ever feel the inner call to decoupage, ganache, or embellish?

I sometimes like to pretend I am a gourmet chef. I enjoy purusing cooking magazines and websites, searching for new and adventursome meals to make my own. This Easter I decided to forgo the typical ham and pursue the higher standard. Lamb. Yogurt, fresh lemon, lime, & garlic marinade. And what meat doesn't work having spent time on the outdoor grill? Let me just say, I think it was a success, despite my uncouth family who inflicted jokes about a sad, three-legged sheep and put in requests for grilled rabbit next year.

So now I am exploring all of the options for leftover lamb. Tonight was a Shepherd's Pie-inspired creation. Tomorrow? Who knows. Maybe some kind of stew or kabobs.

Baa!

Look Familiar Anyone??

Where Is My Cape?

I am a superhero. My abilities are endless, I am sure. I could stop a locomotive with my bare hands, if necessary. I could swim the ocean. I can swoop in and save young, innocent lives from the jaws of death. Just put one of my kids in jeopardy and I will suddenly develop new and amazing talents.

Allow me to paint a picture: My kids and I, along with my brother's family and my parents, traversed a hike in the gorge to celebrate a beautiful Spring Break day. We discovered on our return trip from the upper falls that we needed to take a little detour. With the bridge washed out, we needed to cross over the raging, freezing, deep torrents on a log placed just so for such an occasion. Mind you, it was a huge log, so it wasn't really that precarious -- unless you are a four-year-old. As Connor and I, holding hands, neared the far side, he lost his footing and went off the side. As my mind registered that his little body was dangling ten feet over the water, I thought, I've got him! Then just as quickly I thought, We're both going in! As I valiantly fought the beast of balance that attempted to draw us both into its icy clutches, I reached back and grabbed a wee twig - one no larger than my pinky. This little respite allowed just enough time for my superpowers to kick in and right both of us up. When we reached stable land, Connor whimpered a few times and quietly declared, I almost fell in the waterfall, mommy. A little farther down trail and I saw that we were just upstream from a very, very high waterfall.

I am mother. Hear me roar.

Craig Ferguson Piece

Everyone in my family is on that terrible precipice - you know, that ledge right before you succumb to a terrible cold. I'm trying to fight it with Zicam and mind-control, but I'm not sure it's going to hold.

You may have seen this on Mike Cope's blog or a million other places for that matter - once it's on youtube, it's everywhere. Craig Ferguson, whom I enjoy watching mostly to hear his great Scottish accent, gives a poignant monologue about comedy, kicking those who are down, and his own fight with alcoholism. It's worth twelve minutes, if you can find them.