Holy...

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And no, it's not Photoshopped. Read the story here.

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A Dilemma for Good Friday

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In my effort to build a Good Friday service with the theme of "by his stripes we are healed", I have hit a dilemma. Here is my order of service: Video “Resurrection” Reading of Isaiah 53 Crimson (Vocal Solo) Reading: John 18: 1-18 #302 Lamb of God 1, 2 Reading John 18: 19-40 #323 Alas! And Did My Savior Bleed 1, 2, 3, 5 Reading: John 19: 1-16 Love Song (Vocal Solo) Reading John 19: 17-42 #324 When I Survey the Wondrous Cross 1, 3, 4 Video “A Better Way” Cross Painting/Communion Prayer All of the readings have music in the background, mostly stuff from "The Passion" to create a mood of sorrow and awe at the same time. Both vocal solos are focused on Jesus very intentionally, as are the videos. For communion, my idea is to have a small bucket of paint sitting at the foot of the cross. As we all come forward for communion, we will have the chance to paint a stripe on the cross, to remind us of the price Jesus paid, the "stripes" if you will. During that ti...
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[o me of little faith]

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When the time comes, I know. I sometimes jump too soon, but I try to trust my instincts more, as I’m told I often have good ones. So I jump. I jump while knowing it will end with a crash, hoping that I will be caught. You might even say it’s jumping with one eye open. Sometimes it’s a mistake, sometimes it is not. Most often, it requires me to adjust my expectation. I adjust rather than what I could do. Which is be vulnerable. Say what I need from them. And hope they eventually understand and maybe meet my expectations. But I mostly just assume that they won’t see it [me] as necessary [worth it]. *sigh* How long am I going to be here? In this place that makes me feel this way? There is such fragile in-authenticity in this. Somehow it feels best, even easier, for me. (Though the tangle of emotions hardly makes it easier.) But my relationship with them is “easier,” because nothing is expected, because I don’t communicate. Nothing is expected because ultimately I believe ...
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detachment, part 2 [living life without expectations]

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As I practice my words here, and work out what I am feeling and experiencing in my life through these words, I'm recognizing the courage of emotionally connecting with myself is different from emotionally connecting with other people.   For those to whom I feel the most emotionally connected, it’s because I've sat next to them on a couch and listened to them bear their soul. It’s because  I've  laughed with them, done more than one face palm with them and I've gently shoved them in the arm when they say something bratty. It’s because I've sat across the table from them over coffee or a meal and looked them in the eye as I've shared my own struggles and pains.  These moments, small and sure, fill in the cracks missing from those who do not enter in to my  space. It was already easy to become emotionally withdrawn from the world in order to protect myself. And technology has not only made ...
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