My Own Way of "Chasing Slow" {...the sweetness of church life...}
If you haven’t been to Harvest Church in 3 or 4 years…you haven’t been to Harvest church.
Oh, for real. It’s not the same place. Not outside. Not inside. Not in its atmosphere, or its people. God has been gathering those who resonate with the New Covenant Gospel from the east, west, north, and south…from England and Sweden, from Washington State (no, really…they moved here…to go to church here), from New Mexico and from across our “Maker’s City” of Knoxville.
Pandemic be damned. (I promise, that is not gratuitous swearing. I really mean it.)
We are growing so beautifully…because our goal is not “growth”. Our goal, as stated by The Preacher (my husband) is health. I can’t get over what the Holy Spirit is doing in our midst.
…one of our good friends, and literally one of our neighbors. His name is Derek, and he serves relentlessly, with such a presence of God on him! If you come through our front doors, you will be greeted - in the deepest voice you’ve ever heard - by this dear one.
But tonight, I simply want to share what church life means to me, on a very personal level.
As an artist, I can't make art that resonates with others, if I don't resonate within my own self. In other words, if I don't “live the life of an artist”, my creativity becomes knock-off, wooden, safe, and the same as it has always been.
For me, every time I go up the steps of #harvestchurchknoxville, I know I am actually slowing down to live an authentic life, instead of just talking about "chasing slow". I know I will encounter Jesus through real people in real time. There is no substitute for authenticity. I can't slow down, make time, give and receive, and soak in Presence second-hand. I have to physically show up.
You could say that because I'm the preacher's wife, I "have" to show up.
If you think that for one minute...well...you don't know me, do you? I've been a lover of Christ's “body” and “bride” (two Biblical metaphors for “church”) for as long as I can remember - and the depth and grit and soul and joy and heartbreak that comes with forging relationships with people in ONE local church - the same church, for almost 30 years, has made me who I am today.
I wouldn't trade it for any other lifestyle. God's my witness on that one. It is the most creative, flourishing life. Why? Because God promised if we stick and stay, that is the inevitable result.
“Planted in the house of the LORD, they will flourish in the courts of our God. In old age they will still bear fruit; healthy and green they will remain,…”
There are many people on Instagram who follow me for my #SundayOOTD , “Sunday Selfie Posts” alone :)))
I owe much to this one, grounding, deepening, soul-stirring discipline: physically gathering my flawed self with flawed friends on a Sunday. God somehow turns water to wine, every dang time.
You could say that what I do today is an investment into my own development as an artist. But of course, it is so much more. You could say that being a die-hard celebrant has kept me flourishing well into my older years.
You'd be right. Nothing pleases God and hones your gifts like The Gathering.
Essential Tension
Everything you want in life is equally attractive. But everything is not equally possible.
The title of this piece was “The Courage of Simplicity”
“Be careful not to offer your burnt offerings in just any place you see; you must offer them only in the place the LORD will choose in one of your tribal territories, and there you shall do all that I command you.”
With the dubious “help” of social media, I get to imagine myself as making great sacrifices for an imaginary greater good.
Meanwhile, I’m not living heartily in my actual life. In the false belief that all my really important dreams can come true (and they are all “really important”), I can easily find myself in all kinds of false urgencies, and avoiding all the choices that would actually benefit me on a Tuesday morning.
You may have heard that the root meaning of the word “decide” is to put to death all other options. Much like the words “homicide” or “suicide”. Whenever you truly “decide”, a host of other equally attractive options must die.
Stick with me. I’m hoping to depress you in order to bless you.
Scrolling IG and Pinterest, looking at the highlight reels of others, it is easy for me to imagine myself fifteen pounds thinner, the best pastor’s wife and friend possible - available to all my friends whenever they need me, and running a half-marathon (for the love of all that’s real - running a 5K would be a fantasy for me right now!). In my Ideal Life, all my meals are made with my own two tiny hands from Cook Beautiful. I’m traveling from city to city on my book tour, while living in the beautiful countryside - with a garden. I’m simultaneously thrilling The Preacher as a wife, while enjoying the final decade or so of my grandkids’ childhoods. (Who else do you know gets to go through the “empty nest” twice?! Some of my friends are so envious of our “culdesac life”, and the way three of my grands live literally next door. But that also means that I will experience the pain of empty nesting twice. Kill me now.)
I mean…come on. Look at these creative, respectful kids - who adore us. This is going to hurt, someday.
When I put it that way, showing you all those important, awesome, special goals of mine, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that in my actual life, I end up having to daily “kill my darlings”.
Not the grandkids - goodlord, how could you think that?!
“Killing my darlings”, means I have to DECIDE. I have to prayerfully choose where to “make my sacrifice”, i.e. invest my time, talent, and treasure.
That’s the part that the thirty-something self development/success girl-gurus aren’t telling you. Sure, they might have accomplished everything I mentioned above.
But not all in the first half of life. And they aren’t still doing it.
Wildly valuable parts of their life have had to die a slow, painful death - either by decision or attrition.
Truly, anyone who pretends for a moment that chasing her every dream is the best way to live, will eventually have dirt all over her face, as she apologizes to everyone who bought her books. Profusely.
Again, let me depress you, so I can bless you.
Sure, I could seem really nice by telling you what you want to hear, instead of what you need to hear…
I could write a book telling you to chase it all. And I could make money off you, so long as I keep you dreaming about everything you want to be, have, and do if you visualize it and work really hard. And you would likely believe me, and buy my next book. And come to my event.
I could keep you busy for years, and get my second house in Maui, so long as I can keep you fantasizing that you can, indeed, have #allthethings . Well. Maybe not all the things. How about most of the things? You just need to keep tweaking your morning routine, and use my planner.
Problem is, the moment you make the first decision about your real life, in your real world…
…something will have to die. Your real life will be disappointing compared to your “dreams”. That’s tragic. That is the very definition of midlife crisis.
“The idea of the future, pregnant with an infinity of possibilities, is thus more fruitful that the future itself.”
Why aren’t more grandmothers writing the books?
So I’m here to tell you the truth: without making careful choices as to what to keep and what to kill, you will end up losing the very sense of purpose that you thought “having big dreams” would give you.
Especially if you are a follower of Jesus. For us who love Him, there is an essential tension to living a called life.
For us, the very essence of our calling is found in the everyday, the mundane, the ordinary.
“It is not necessary to have great things to do. I turn my little omelet in the pan for the love of God.”
“Choose my instruction instead of silver, knowledge rather than choice gold...”
The truth is, all of life involves making decisions. And making decisions involves death. We get to choose what dies, so that the better thing can live. The glory is this: What dies can be offered up to the Lord as a sacrifice. It can be counted as worship, when we choose - when we decide - according to God’s actual plan for our lives, and not what we wish His plan for our lives would be.
“But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.”
Every real world choice involves the demise of untold numbers of other choices. So there’s no reason to put it off any longer, hoping that someday, if you buy the right book, you can have all the important things. You won’t have to decide.
Shoot it. Pull the trigger. “Choose you this day Who you will serve.”
Embrace that suck. It’s the essential tension that comes with serving more than just yourself. It’s what makes the sacrifice of praise, the sacrifice of praise. Kill your darlings. You’ll find yourself deeply thankful for the few things you’ve chosen to let live.
May we never find ourselves lacking gratitude and wonder. May we never find ourselves charmed more by our fantasy, than we are by our reality.
“If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches...”