I’ve been busy lately writing in a couple other places than here.
So take a look at the short article I wrote for The Worship Community this morning. I’m not a worship leader, but my husband has been for as long as I’ve known him, and even so, I write for the WC once in awhile.
Sitting Down (For the Record)
During worship, I sometimes sit.
You’ve seen me. But then I disappear when everyone else stands, because now I’m hiding behind the dozens of standing bodies of everybody else worshiping. I’m still there. But I’m sitting.
When the worship leader says stand,
And he says,
Raise your hands.
Close your eyes.
Praise Him…
Sometimes I’m sitting.
I know there’s freedom in worship and for the record I’m really not trying to be a rebel (If I was, I’d show up with a scowl and come in for the sermon only after the music is done. Or I wouldn’t come at all.)
But I sit, sometimes…
Click here to read the rest of the article and Why I Sit sometimes.
And then come back. Because last week, I wrote a short post on healing for my dear friend Jenni Clayville (who has walked the same road I have and has been brave enough to share her story on her own blog). She posted my post on Friday here.
Itches and Miracles
It hurts to heal. Or at least itches.
When I was a little girl I would scrape my knee/shin/elbow like all little girls do. After a band-aid was in place my father would tell me not to itch it. I would think, “It doesn’t itch yet, it just hurts!”
But he was right; as soon as the wound would begin to heal, it would begin to itch and I’d want to rip off the bandage and scratch scratch scratch until it felt better.
But what I didn’t realize was the itching it would have reopened the wound. The scrape, even if it hurt and itched, needed the environment of the bandage to heal.
And time. And then a miracle.
It’s the same with us. With our big stories and big wounds and I-don’t-think-it-will-ever-be-the-same situations…
Click here to read the rest of the post. If you haven’t met Jenni yet, you’ll love her.
