Scarface

Most people who know me fairly well know me to be a competitive person. I wouldn't call myself a "cut-throat, win-at-all-costs" kind of person, but when I'm playing a game, I certainly am playing to win. I love to compete and I love watching and playing sports for that reason. I must confess, though, that although God hard-wired me with a passion for athletics, He decided to gift me more on a continuum of "Rudy" rather than "The Natural."

My one and only year of playing basketball on an actual competitive team was in eighth grade. It was the first year our school had a team and there were maybe eight girls that came out total; I got to play a lot by default. I was forbidden to dribble the ball down the court and I'm not sure that my season point total ever went into double digits, but I could certainly do a mean chest pass and I played defense like no other. Anyone who entered my zone found me as their shadow and I had even more fun defending in a man-to-man. My passion for defense often left me trying to get the ball at all costs, often falling on the floor in a less-than graceful, but ever so dramatic fashion.

One game is indelibly etched in my mind. We played an away game on a carpeted gym. One girl from the other team started to go on a breakaway, and I was determined not to let her get there. The good news was that she did not get through to get the basket. The bad news was that in the process, my dramatic steal/fall left me with 2-inch, large brush burns on both of my knees and elbows. I wore knee pads to play after that.

Needless to say, I have since recovered from the physical injuries of my basketball career, but occasionally, I'll happen to glance down at my knees or elbow and notice the faded reminders of 2-inch brush burns that left me unable to bend for a week. The pain has left me, but the scar serves as a reminder of the experience and the lessons I learned from it (i.e. Let her get the two points).

My brush burn scars are not the only scars on my body and I confess that all too often I will look at all of them with disdain and regret. What God's really shown me, however, is that a scar should not be seen as something to be hidden, but rather something to be remembered. I cannot look at a scar without remembering where I got it and in the process I recognize that I am no longer the same. I am different. I've learned something. I am changed. The scar is evidence of the stories of my life that have made me who I am today.

My experience with the carpeted gym certainly did not taint me from ever playing basketball again. On the contrary, it taught me how to prepare myself so that I could play better in the future. In the same way, I cannot let my physical and emotional scars prohibit me from venturing forward in the adventures to where God is calling me.

When Jesus appeared to His disciples after His resurrection in His glorified, perfect body, I find it incredibly profound that His scars from His crucifixion remained. They were completely healed, but they were crucial in His testimony to Thomas and so many others, showing them that He was who He said He was and that His Father was who He said He was. In the same way, I will choose to use my scars to learn from them and even boast about them, showing them to others as evidence of God's faithfulness in my life.

I'm In!

I have the chance tomorrow to teach a piece of our new members class, something I had the opportunity to do for the first time last month. I really enjoyed it, as it caused me to remember when I was in that place almost six years ago, and the journey on which God had brought me that led me to North Way. The picture that I used to explain it, like all great illustrations, actually had to do with the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Now, if you've had the chance to read even a few postings on my blog, it's not hard to figure out that I'm a pretty passionate Steeler fan. Things were not always this way, however. While I think I became a Steeler fan by birth, I didn't really care to watch a football game if they weren't playing and if they weren't playing well, I didn't really follow at all. Something very strange started happening about three years ago, however.

Big Ben had just started into his rookie season and they were setting record after record and I found myself watching channel 180 (the NFL Network) a lot, and sitting down and watching football games even when the Steelers weren't playing. I didn't really care so much about other teams. I just knew that how they played would ultimately affect the Steelers, so I suddenly found myself watching, reading, and talking about football on a daily basis.

My ultimate point of commitment came as we entered the playoffs that year. I found myself at Dick's Sporting goods standing in front of a rack of jerseys, trying to decide if I should make the commitment to purchase one. Now, besides the fact that this one article of clothing was equivalent to three months of my clothing budget, I realized that if I purchased this jersey, it was going to be a big emotional investment for me. By putting on the shirt, I was saying that I was a Steelers fan through and through, for better or worse, and no matter where I went, everyone would know it.

Needless to say, I bought the shirt. #51. James Farrior. I'm a defense girl. :-)

When I graduated from college, I found myself "out on my own" in a lot of ways, making my own decisions and choices for the first time as a "real" adult. I absolutely loved the church that I grew up in and I loved the church that I started attending when I was in college and for a while, I thought it was great to go to both. The Holy Spirit really convicted me, however, about the importance of committing to a particular church body, to channel your money, energy, gifts and passions to one local church where He calls and to "join the team," so to speak. After a lot of prayer, I felt that God was leading me to jump into membership at North Way, and a crazy six months later, I found myself working there in student ministry.

As I learned this past football season, being a Steeler fan is not always ice cream and roses. The bumps that we took this year, however, did not change my commitment to my team and I'm still wearing my jersey whenever I can. I imagine that experience with any local church body is very similar. The Church is full of people, people who, unlike our Father, are not perfect. There are going to be problems and situations that are difficult and even painful. The answer to those sorts of situations, however is not to pull out of the Church completely, secluding oneself to a life of isolation and cynicism.

I believe the local church is God's instrument to share the gift of His salvation and grace with a world who needs Him. I pray that God would continue to expand the growth and influence of not just North Way, but His greater Church in Pittsburgh and beyond.

Once Upon A Time . . .

I love a really good story. The Lord of the Rings and the Star Wars movies (episodes 4-6) are some of my favorites, because they tell such a compelling and gripping story through a beautifully written trilogy. I love to look at each work as a whole, but if I had to pick out one part of the series that was my favorite, both The Two Towers (the second book) and The Empire Strikes Back (the second movie), would be it. It seems a little sadistic because in both cases, the second book and movie end with the heroes and heroines in their darkest hours. The dreams birthed in their hearts at the beginning of their adventurous journeys have met with resistance, strong resistance, and at the end of Book/Movie 2, it seems as if all hope is lost.

I guess the reason I love the middle of these stories so much is because as the reader, we realize that all hope is not lost. We may not know all the details, but we know that there's another book to be read, another movie to be seen, and that somehow, the author that has brought us along this far will continue to craft a good story and fulfill the dreams of the hero and heroine that we love. And, ironically enough, it's the aversion, the despair, the darkest hours of "Book Two" that make us love the "happily ever after" even more, isn't it?

While I love reading trilogies, I sometimes find it difficult to live in the storyline of an epic. I don't say this in a narcissistic way, yet I'm simply referring to the intricate plot and plan that our Father has crafted for each one of us. It's a lot more difficult to live in the midst of those dark nights of the soul, because we can't see "Book Three" right in front of us. Many times, we're not sure if we're even close to "Book Three," the time when our dreams are fulfilled in the most eloquent writing of an Author who is Good in the best sense of the word. Living in that uncertainty, that unknown, that season of "all is lost" with an undefined end is a difficult place to live. I confess, that in some of those dark moments, I've begged my Author to just give me something, some indication of the end, even if it's just to tell me how much longer Book Two is going to be. I can't say that an answer has ever come.

What has come, however, is a revelation to my spirit, one that is simple yet has a profound impact on me. It is simply a question: does it matter? If my Author did tell me the ending, if He did tell me that it would come in just a few more chapters, or instead that I had a long way to go, would it change my actions now? Would I quit if I still had a long journey ahead of me as opposed to "hanging in there" if I knew it was almost done? Would knowing exactly how the ending turned out change how I should react in this dark moment?

The answer to me is clear. "No."

The simple question brings a Truth and a light that ever so briefly dissipates the fog of my despair because I see that there is something even more important than my happy ending . . . my Author. As long as I remember that He is my Author and that He is scripting the story, I see that even the end of Book Two doesn't matter, because He has written it and He is Good. It gives me courage, like Sam at the end of The Two Towers, to pick up the ring and press on along the long and dangerous journey, knowing that although I may not know the way, I must continue, I must persevere, I must trust that the Author is Good.

And what I'm discovering is that the Author is Good beyond even my wildest imaginations. His writing runs circles around Pulitzer Prize winners and the beloved J.R.R. Tolkein. And surprisingly enough, even when the pages turn to what I think is the "happily ever after" of my journey, that it is really not the end at all. On the contrary, it's just the beginning of a new chapter, the continuation of the greatest story ever told, one that is beyond our comprehension. And while it may be filled with "happily ever afters," it would be inappropriate to refer to them as "happy endings" in a land where there is no end.

"No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever." (Rev. 22:3-4)

"I Think I Can't???"

I came across this company, Despair.com, a few years ago and just think they are so hilarious (in that sick and twisted, but really, really funny sort of way.) They just sent their catalogue w/ some new updates. Classic.

Thisthers . . .

Remember that scene from White Christmas, where the Haynes sisters come out in those goofy, poofy costumes and they started singing that unforgettable song, "Sisters?" My mom offered my sister Ashley and I $50 to sing that song for a talent show in elementary school. I refused. I was in 7th grade. I had a reputation to protect. What's more, at that point in my life, I looked at Samantha, my youngest sister who was about 6 at that time, as a baby doll, and I was just starting to see Ashley, two years younger than me, as something more than a person to be the groom when I wanted to play wedding. I couldn't quite appreciate the words of the song, "Two different faces, but in tight places, we think and we act as one." (eh heh . . .) :-)

In the years following, I think my sisters and I have grown from playmates and people who share the same bloodline, to genuine best friends. This weekend Ashley is coming home for a few days vacation from her home in D.C. (with my new brother (& her husband), Nate) and we intend to go up and visit Samantha (at Grove City College) for at least one afternoon of quality shopping and eating. I thought it would be an appropriate time to share just a little bit of what I love about each one.

The picture that you see is of the lovely Ashley Edwards Maines on her wedding day (with her new monkey friend) and her infamous AUBURN hair. Yep, I learned at a really young age that Ashley had red hair that "you can't get in a bottle" and I didn't. Complete strangers would come up to her and comment how beautiful her hair was. Once I got past the intense jealousy over the fact that she was stealing all my attention, I was able to see that she was a pretty cool girl. Ashley has a brilliant mind (she has a Master's in Statistics) and yet breaks every mold that you can possibly imagine of what a statistician would be (no offense to statisticians intended). She's zany, silly, and extremely funny and fun to be around. She and her husband are such a great complement to each other as they both love Jesus and love working together to serve Him.

Samantha (the beauty on the left at a dance at her school last year) is one of the funniest people I've ever met with one of the most beautiful voices that I've ever heard (she just got a leading roll in a theatre production at college and sang for a National Prayer Breakfast in Rwanda last summer). She is a woman of character like few I've ever known as she exemplifies perseverance and hard work in a way to which I can only aspire.

Yep, "Sisters, sisters, there were never such devoted sisters . . ." I love you both dearly and am so thankful to God for the gift of each of you.

Snow Day!

Today was a blissful flashback to third grade.

The local news started broadcasting the impending snow storm on Sunday morning. And yesterday as a result of all the dangerous predictions, we cancelled all of our formal meetings at work today. My planned 14 hour day of nine meetings was transformed into a productive, work-from-home day in my sweatshirt and sweatpants. I'm one of those strange people who really enjoy the winter season for the most part and today was another delightful reason why I should feel that way.

Snow day in 18th grade. :-)

It's funny because this snowstorm in many ways has created a lot of obstacles, stress, and anxiety for many people. They started being affected by it days before it even came, imagining all the potential problems that could arise. What I initially viewed as a potential detriment, however, turned out to be a great gift of rest and refreshment. It was a simple little reminder that God gave me, recalling other more magnanimous moments when I thought that I would be facing a major problem or painful circumstance (going to a new school, facing medical uncertainties, finding a job) and God used the time to draw me close to Him and bring great joy and gifts from the season that I could have never imagined. Maintaining my snow day mentality in the midst of life's blizzards will be key to seeing God's unique handiwork in each and every flake that falls.

Yay for snow days!

The Land of Oaks

In 1840, William Eichenbaum owned a large farm in a suburb of downtown Pittsburg (they spelled it w/out an "h" then), that was blessed with a plentiful abundance of oak trees. Unfortunately, with the growth of the ore industry, the resulting ore dust killed much of the vegetation of the land, including many of the beautiful trees. Although the majestic trees may have lost their prominence in the land, the area still retained its name . . . Oakland.

The part of our city today is viewed by many to be a scientific, cultural, and academic hub housing many of our universities, hospitals, and museums. And, in just a few weeks, it will also be the center of North Way's first campus, North Way Oakland. This will be the first step in a multi-site adventure for my church, and it's clearly one that I know God has ordained and orchestrated to come to pass. (If you're confused about the philosophy behind a "multi-site" church, here's a great explanation. Thanks, Pastor Jeff!)

I've spent a lot of time this past week researching nursery furniture, toys, and classroom dividers to make the KiDZ area something truly special. I stopped by the building yesterday to see how the renovations are coming (it was formally a Chinese restaurant on McKee St., right off of Forbes and Fifth) and I have to confess that I walked in and was struck with all the differences of our new area from our current campus in Wexford. I started thinking about all the obstacles that will be in place to making the area look as good as I have it looking in my head. I left thinking, "I don't know how we're going to do this."

This morning, I was really convicted of my attitude. I realize that my thinking was completely wrong. I have been planning on how to do KiDZ Ministry like I've always known, understood, and executed in Wexford, PA. "It's worked well in Wexford. Why not just do the same thing in Oakland?" But Oakland is not the same. Oakland is a completely different area, with a different demographic and history that houses a new set of people inside of whom God wants to birth something new. While the heart of our KiDZ ministry should stay the same, other parts of it have to change to meet the needs of the Oakland community.

Pittsburgh is a city of bridges. The Carnegie Library states that there are over 2100 bridges in Allegheny County alone, one of the highest of any city in the world. In a "3 River" city with so many waterways around, clearly bridges needed to be constructed to bring groups of people together. One that I find to be particularly interesting is St. Pierre's Ravine, a bridge that is no longer a bridge, but it is. (It confused me, too.) Originally built in the heart of Oakland in 1898, it served to bring neighborhoods together across a deep ravine. It's still there. You just can't see it anymore because it was buried in the early part of the 20th century.

St. Pierre's Ravine is an ironic picture of unfortunately all too many bridges in Pittsburgh. What was once intended to bring people together now serves as markers of division. Those who live north of the city's bridges rarely cross over to go to the obscure land of the South Hills and vice versa. (Said like a true North Hills girl.) :-) That is one of the major motivations of our venture into Oakland. If people won't come north, we've got to go to them. We want to "free people to follow Jesus" throughout the city of Pittsburgh, not just the North Hills.

I pray that the launch of North Way Oakland is a catalyst to start unearthing the buried bridges of Pittsburgh, utilizing them again for their original purpose . . . to bring people together in the greater neighborhood of God's Kingdom. May the ashes of the ore dust that choked the life out of the trees be replaced with a crown of beauty, as the land once again is filled with "OAKS of Righteousness, a planting for the LORD for the display of His splendor" (Is. 61:3).

March 18, 2007. North Way Oakland.

10001

Well, the big day was yesterday and I have to say that being 9,999 and the lovely palindrome age of 10,001 is almost as much fun as 10,000. What a fun day it was.

I first have to say that I'm terribly sorry for everyone else because I'm fully convinced that I have the best family in the world. :-)

You can see in the picture how they totally supported my eccentric celebrations with a 10,000 shirt ("X" w/ a bar over it is 10,000 in Roman numerals), a print out of Pi to the 10,000th place, $10,000 in Rwandan Francs, a picture of 10,000 galaxies from the Hubble telescope, and 10,000 kernels of unpopped and popped corn (Maggie and my coworkers helped me eat it).

I have to say that I was recognizing today that I think one of the greatest gifts that my parents gave to my sisters and I was a home environment that supported and fostered creativity. I think that a lot of my creative thinking today is due to the fact that I was able to grow up in a home that allowed room to try and fail and try again. I am so thankful for that opportunity.

Later that night my small group and I went out for Mexican food to celebrate at a great new restaurant called Azul.

In case you're curious, here are two websites including the 10,000 day official website (also known as TK Day) and the definition of TK Day in the urban dictionary.

Time is Money???

I clearly remember this one particular summer morning when I was about 9 years old. I was playing a game with my sister while we were watching the Price is Right and I looked at the VCR quickly to see what time it was. When I looked, I watched the clock change to the next minute and for the first time, the thought occurred to me, "It will never be 11:38 AM on this date ever again." I was shocked at the revelation and a little sad that I could never have it back . . . and then I saw that they were playing Plinko next and I was over my profundity.

This morning, I was recognizing the fact that I have a problem with time management. The severity may ebb and flow with seasons, but I don't seem to be able to rest well or work well because I'm always feeling like there's more to do, there's time passing, and I'm drowning in the midst of it all. I felt like I got an idea about a way to help me with this, however, and it's either a God ordained moment of brilliance or a lapse of stupidity brought on by the lack of sleep. I'm not sure which one yet.

I was recognizing that if time were measured in an actual, material currency, I would probably find myself at the end of each day with a trashcan full of crumpled up bills of time currency, wasted in small 5, 15, or 30 minute increments throughout the day without ever realizing it. Too often, I allow myself to adopt a reactive mentality to my schedule, spending an incredible amount of time on e-mails, phone calls, random conversations, and other things that I never planned on doing at the start of a day. The proverbial "tyranny of the urgent" overwhelms the completion of the more important items of my day, and if I do ever take a few minutes to think about the gift of every minute in a day, like I briefly did on that morning so long ago, I see that I'm not using that gift in a way that best glorifies God.

Whereas I try to be very conscientious and responsible in stewarding my money with wisdom, I realized that when it comes to spending time, I'm not nearly as careful in my transactions. (Now here's where it gets a little crazy.) In the same way that I had to spend some time sitting down, figuring out a monetary budget, and then training myself to spend my money wisely, what if I were able to create a time budget, complete with a physical time currency that I held each day to remind me of the finite amount of time that I have to spend each day, and how important it is to spend it wisely? I want to call my currency "chronos." 1 chronos=10 minutes. That way I have 144 chronos to spend on each day; none can be left over. None can be saved. It will also give me a really clear picture of what I really value as the more chronos I spend on something, the more I value it. By practicing the physical spending of chronos for a few weeks, perhaps I can teach myself enough discipline and time management skills to make a permanent change in my behavior. Thoughts? Suggestions on how you steward your time in a Godly fashion?