I spent Sunday afternoon in our family farm's shop, refinishing a dresser I found at a local antique store. I'm a farmer's daughter, yes, and certainly what some would call a "country girl". But most who know me are surprised when they find this out about me. Maybe it's because my vocabulary doesn't include double negatives, or maybe it's because I don't like country music. Who knows. I need to have music on when I refinish anything. It keeps me in the groove and passes the time a little faster. I realized I'd forgotten the ear buds to my ipod, so I was stuck with the shop radio, where I was only able to get one station to come in. Of course, it was a country music station. (After all, I do live in Nebraska, where throwing a rocks ensures you to hit a country music fan.) I can put up with said music for a time, so I left the dial where it was and kept it low in the background. Then my ears perked a little when this came on: I am weak and he is
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
Wednesday night on my way to church for my last praise team rehearsal, I accidentally took my usual route, forgetting that two weeks ago my usual exit was closed for construction. So instead of taking an alternate route I ended up having to drive about 4-5 miles out of my way. And as I turned the corner and drove down this strange road I realized why. I was overcome with emotion. ( That tends to happen when I'm driving. ) I had to pull over, pause, take a picture and let my heart be filled. I don't think I've ever been so scared and so worried about anything in my life as I am about moving to St. Louis, starting a new job and beginning my seminary education. I'm not having second thoughts; I'm not even worried that I might have made the wrong decision. I'm worried about how I will adjust, and how I will make a new and completely different life for myself. I will be desperate for my home, my friends, my family and the comfort my current life provides. I am worrie
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I hate that message too.. I also hate the poverty gospel that some preach.. both seem to embrace formulas.