tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87616004286361045442024-03-12T22:39:41.109-07:00TJ Flick's Musings on Life, Family, & JesusTamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-34176956666161455752021-08-26T06:43:00.000-07:002021-08-26T06:43:18.134-07:00Faith Comes by Hearing<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1v-_yU55_rDb5TIUfb0c43NJlow0xHPWdTSVtCBESrDfEMTk9pCtJn7Wb2NJKKdaZfuSB9dii6zmr0orvHqtODsntNalHCcwq0PHNSnOBMeJ9LdPphE1khaAFSqvmHfPhQevpA796Pe1/s740/Faith-Comes-By-Hearing.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="416" data-original-width="740" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1v-_yU55_rDb5TIUfb0c43NJlow0xHPWdTSVtCBESrDfEMTk9pCtJn7Wb2NJKKdaZfuSB9dii6zmr0orvHqtODsntNalHCcwq0PHNSnOBMeJ9LdPphE1khaAFSqvmHfPhQevpA796Pe1/w400-h225/Faith-Comes-By-Hearing.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">In May of 2020, I remember standing in my dining room, fielding calls from various Christian leaders in our city.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>That evening, we were planning our first citywide prayer protest (called The Wall - check out <a href="http://www.civilrighteousness.org"><span class="s1">www.civilrighteousness.org</span></a>) and we were beginning to hear rumbles of counter-protests potentially breaking out.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The body of Christ was coming together to silently pray and protest at five different sites around our city.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>My prayer was that no matter where people were driving on that evening, they would see the Church stepping up to the plate and taking a stand for righteousness and justice.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Although I had led a couple of small “walls” in the past, this was the first time my friends and I had organized a large one for our city.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;">You can imagine then, how hard it was when respected leaders began calling me to see if we were cancelling the prayer protest.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>They were themselves receiving intel about the threat of violence, even sharing how a Molotov cocktail was supposedly found under a truck in front of<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>the court house.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>(That was the location I would be at. Yikes!)<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>They were feeling the pressure from their sources about potential violence breaking out <b><i>if</i></b> the Church gathered to silently pray.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>No judgment from me - I knew they wanted to keep their people safe.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But quite honestly, those calls were whittling away at my courage.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Were we making the right decision?</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;">I was frustrated.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>You can imagine how small and weak I felt, trying to discern what the Lord was speaking to us.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> So many loud voices, but what was the Lord saying? </span>I knew we needed to take a stand - that we couldn’t let the forces of this world dictate when and where the Church could boldly pray.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But in that moment, I just felt so nervous and afraid.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;">Something powerful transpired over the next two hours or so.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I began calling some of my African American pastor friends, asking for wisdom as to how we should proceed.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And the most amazing thing happened, they each began to encourage me and even preach to me about what God was speaking in this hour. The word of God, coming through their lips, strengthened my resolve to move forward.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I remember listening with tears streaming down my cheeks.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>God was saying, “Go!”</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;">And for those that don’t remember, we did end up doing The Wall in four locations with almost 500 people participating.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>All of our prayer protests were peaceful, saturated with the presence of God.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At the court house, we concluded with communion and impromptu, unplugged worship, and the preaching of the gospel.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Such a powerful time for those that gathered and for those that watched.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;">I’ve been thinking about that day this morning as I contemplate how the Lord has chosen to encourage me recently.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Just a week ago, I was sitting under a tent on Chicago’s south side while a Christian leader was preaching about how God provides what we need when we need it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>There was something so powerful about hearing his personal story of provision that my tears just flowed, un-beckoned, creating rivulets down my cheeks.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I knew God was saying, “Go! I got you!”</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;">And then, just this past Monday, I was speaking with one of my closest friends on the phone.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He literally felt led to re-preach to me the highlights of his Sunday message.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I know that the message was meant for a certain congregation, but in that moment, it felt like it was intended just for me.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Everything he preached was exactly what I need to hear in this hour of transition.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And again, the unsolicited tears came.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And so did the strength.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>God was saying, “Go! I am with you!”</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: start;"><i></i><br /></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i>So then faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.</i></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Romans 10:17</p></div>TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-59097728537860394122021-07-22T10:26:00.002-07:002021-07-22T10:26:52.545-07:00Rain Drops of Refreshing<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-agnu3T-VITnxvJztxuPxmJz7RHrx-liQD5_-olaHRGlA4qb2Zo1tOnsNdWgHRCCeH7LvQy0Yk7KODEQ8BrEJRUsOls3JxwfxRShdsarreh2QiyjFhUKgippdnPP44Z2bbKBgObCaEKq/s2048/what-is-rain.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-agnu3T-VITnxvJztxuPxmJz7RHrx-liQD5_-olaHRGlA4qb2Zo1tOnsNdWgHRCCeH7LvQy0Yk7KODEQ8BrEJRUsOls3JxwfxRShdsarreh2QiyjFhUKgippdnPP44Z2bbKBgObCaEKq/w400-h266/what-is-rain.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Today I had the opportunity to pray with this prophetic powerhouse on a group Zoom call. Her name is Jo and she was doing someone’s hair in her home, then took a break to violently dismantle some demonic principalities and powers through the name of Jesus and His powerful Word, and then just as suddenly went back to working on hair. Like it was no big deal - all in a day’s work. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">It was so powerful to hear her intercession for the city of Chicago. Soooooo powerful. My soul was infused with hope and expectation as she prayed. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">It reminded me of the time at KHOP some years ago when John and I were under immense pressure and attack and one of our veteran intercessors began to pray over our family. It was a Thursday afternoon and her eyes were closed as she sat up at the mic. She began to pray and pray and pray for me and John, our family, and for our call and destiny. I literally lay down in the front row of seats as she prayed. I was so tired and my soul felt frayed and pummeled and we desperately needed breakthrough. As she prayed, I physically felt a gentle rain begin to fall in the prayer room. I don’t know how to explain it - I didn’t feel the wetness of actual rain, but I felt the light pelting of God’s raindrops….I physically felt it.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">My friend prayed for about a half hour, with her eyes closed, unaware of the remarkable blessing I experienced as I lay on those seats.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Eventually she shifted topics and moved on. But man oh man, that Holy Ghost sprinkling was exactly what my weary soul needed. I remember slowly sitting up, stunned, trying to process what had just transpired. I felt better….different……refreshed.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">For those men and women who labor in the hidden place of prayer - THANK YOU. Heaven sees you. Our Father hears you. Demons fear you. And the Body of Christ needs you. Keep praying, keep prophesying, keep declaring the promises of God. Don’t stop. You ARE making a difference. My life is proof. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p>TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-15549046989868952542021-02-08T03:53:00.000-08:002021-02-08T03:53:27.938-08:00Listen. Learn. Lament. Love.<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq4J1VWjqAH9adxD5qpsv0SmGTcJxa5G3we6JpYhEaMGzgDe-Wkp5eMOHfTk5Pbxz002FZuqdtHLRVdeXwpywErHQ2wtLHcsL9D8ejNWHOeCTQ8nuvLxBT40FT27QoxqjOF0skRXSBbC-q/s960/13407300_906590896118952_7221580268717489662_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="960" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq4J1VWjqAH9adxD5qpsv0SmGTcJxa5G3we6JpYhEaMGzgDe-Wkp5eMOHfTk5Pbxz002FZuqdtHLRVdeXwpywErHQ2wtLHcsL9D8ejNWHOeCTQ8nuvLxBT40FT27QoxqjOF0skRXSBbC-q/w402-h303/13407300_906590896118952_7221580268717489662_n.jpg" width="402" /></a></div><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">“Maybe they’ll finally see us.”</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Those were the words spoken by my African American friend when I described to her the Listen. Learn. Lament. Love. prayer room. My heart broke. There was no edge of bitterness attached to her words. What I heard was someone who was tired, tired of being unseen, unheard. Her words marked me.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Who are “they?” We are. All of us reading this - every ethnicity, especially white America.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Who are “us?” People of color.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I’m not an expert in reconciliation. I have made plenty of mistakes through the years as I’ve walked this journey. As a white American, I have wrestled with the fear that I will say or do the wrong thing. I wish I could say that my wrestle was only because I did not want to cause more damage to those that have already experienced the soul-crushing impact of racism. Although that is true, I confess that some of my wrestle was because I didn’t want to look dumb or tone deaf…or complicit. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Here’s the reality: I have spoken and done many wrong things along this path of reconciliation and restorative justice. I HAVE been tone deaf, proud, insensitive, blind, partisan….and racist. {Tears squeezed out of my eyes when I typed that last one. Ugh.] And when the Lord in HIs mercy would reveal those undercurrents in my soul, sometimes through conversations with my friends of color, sometimes through books, articles, movies, prophetic dreams, and scripture, I have repented and sought to be teachable and humble. THIS IS NOT EASY. There have been many times when I’ve wanted to defend myself, defend my opinion, and paint myself in a more pleasant, rose-colored light.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">What I am learning to do is shut my mouth in those moments and <b>listen</b>. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Learn</b>. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Lament</b>. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Love.</b></span></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Reconciliation is holy ground. Reconciliation is the place of the cross. Reconciliation is choosing to lay down your life for your friend. Choosing to go low, grabbing a towel and wash basin and washing your sister’s feet. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">“Having loved his own who were in the world, he [Jesus] now showed them the full extent of his love….so he got up from his meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciple’s feet, drying them with the towel that was around him.” John 13:1b, 4 - 5</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p>
</p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-13385059000595015452020-10-18T13:29:00.000-07:002020-10-18T13:29:35.395-07:00Dancing with Charlotte <p><span data-offset-key="5ptso-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2;"><span data-text="true" style="font-family: inherit;">Today I had the opportunity to preach at our home church, the one where I serve as the worship director. This was my first Sunday morning message there and I was feeling a bit nervous when I arrived at the church this morning. You think I wouldn't since I speak and/or lead worship in front of people often. But for whatever reason, today felt different and I found myself wrestling with my nerves. In fact, when I first walked into my office this morning, my heart sounded like a bass drum, pounding away in my chest. </span></span></p><p><span data-offset-key="5ptso-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2;"><span data-text="true" style="font-family: inherit;">Worship began and it was yummy and marked with joy. I felt the Holy Spirit moving. Suddenly, my little 5 year old friend Charlotte</span></span><span data-offset-key="5ptso-2-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2;"><span data-text="true" style="font-family: inherit;"> ran up to me and began dancing with all her might. She was hopping and clapping and boogying right there in front of me. I was delighted and tried to match her with my own swaying, arm-pumping, waist - shimmying, and clapping. It was such as a sweet, spontaneous moment. Truly, a kiss from heaven and exactly what I needed - a reminder that God is dancing with me, whether I'm shopping at Meijer or getting ready to preach. I must have danced away my nerves with Charlotte and Jesus, because I felt good after that.</span></span></p><p><span data-offset-key="5ptso-2-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2;"><span data-text="true" style="font-family: inherit;">I'm not sure where you find yourself today, but I have good news for you: God is present and He's dancing with you. Right now. He is dancing with you. May our eyes be opened to His goodness. May our hearts feel calmed by His peace. May our feet be moved by His dance. </span></span></p><p></p><div style="orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, .SFNSText-Regular, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><span data-offset-key="5ptso-2-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2;"><span data-text="true" style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZEwU9I5eJTe9te7d9R6GpC0XBdi7O7387mImkxDR5pD9yyhAknl76Xxo_tbdMEpLsDKFbvoHVQSdYkjS6c92tfHhh492AcNjJmQael_vZ1a5pfwLoBof06wgha-P-AW5APKeyXWFTNA2k/s640/stock-photo-pink-childhood-girl-flowers-spin-happy-free-3ab4ff8e-4d1d-4c9f-8ab9-a1ca465fa326.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZEwU9I5eJTe9te7d9R6GpC0XBdi7O7387mImkxDR5pD9yyhAknl76Xxo_tbdMEpLsDKFbvoHVQSdYkjS6c92tfHhh492AcNjJmQael_vZ1a5pfwLoBof06wgha-P-AW5APKeyXWFTNA2k/s320/stock-photo-pink-childhood-girl-flowers-spin-happy-free-3ab4ff8e-4d1d-4c9f-8ab9-a1ca465fa326.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></span></span><p></p>TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-10271563405924890922020-09-30T08:38:00.002-07:002020-09-30T08:38:44.127-07:00I am Learning to Listen...<div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoQFpn373mUYT2c0-OQaCF5GL6A_5zZBVlbhFIJ7mpsa-c9GYB6A7eeQ_fzcK8zuqVzPPlndPjFxGaSrdMq1888nAtsUArV32Vqa3fMJLC80KUTAg8UCAvD2sMLMshFILGItLIrnRGmnJ/s2048/yellow+cactus+flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1530" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoQFpn373mUYT2c0-OQaCF5GL6A_5zZBVlbhFIJ7mpsa-c9GYB6A7eeQ_fzcK8zuqVzPPlndPjFxGaSrdMq1888nAtsUArV32Vqa3fMJLC80KUTAg8UCAvD2sMLMshFILGItLIrnRGmnJ/s320/yellow+cactus+flowers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><b>I am learning to listen…</b></span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the woman whose husband walked out on her, leaving her to support three kids on her own.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the pastor who’s been trying to lead her congregation well during Covid.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the minister who was repeatedly pulled over for “driving while black” in his own neighborhood.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the silent screams of the unborn babies who are violently robbed of life.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the frightened woman who thought abortion was her only option.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the friend who is exhausted by injustice.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the grandma who’s afraid her grandson will go to prison.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the young woman who’s been trafficked.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the man who daily, diligently battles his addiction demons.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I am learning to listen…</b></span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the God who beckons me closer.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the son who whispers, “I love you” as he falls asleep.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the daughter whose impromptu singing pours sunshine into my soul.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To the husband whose belly laughs ignite giggles from our children.</span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"><span style="font-size: medium;">One of the things I’ve learned over the years is that listening is one of the ways we “wash one another’s feet” in our conversations. I invite you during this next month to invite someone to coffee and listen. Listen to their story. Listen to their hurts. Listen to their joys. Honor them by giving them your time….and your ear. Let’s build the table of brotherhood again. Let’s see what God will do when we choose to listen. </span></div>TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-44873141968700726902020-04-25T10:59:00.000-07:002020-04-26T16:07:22.439-07:00Heal Them vs. Heal Me<div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 17px;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VBjhCB2STuK78o1hpevE48POpGyBvo2ptZL1AT9K_g6X_86NrHDLMdqxFZ6qZ8haxQ9BcdcAr7y-hWQ-vniN0wfOYlRCPiKEkGKxwK9hTJX8_DbLnWdzdxKVxRkTF1QNBhjt6qLbQC2i/s1600/images-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VBjhCB2STuK78o1hpevE48POpGyBvo2ptZL1AT9K_g6X_86NrHDLMdqxFZ6qZ8haxQ9BcdcAr7y-hWQ-vniN0wfOYlRCPiKEkGKxwK9hTJX8_DbLnWdzdxKVxRkTF1QNBhjt6qLbQC2i/s400/images-3.jpeg" width="266" /></a></div>
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I heard people crying out to the Lord, “Heal our land! Heal our land!”</div>
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In response, I saw the Lord focus his attention on someone’s house and yard.</div>
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The person crying out could feel the gaze of the Lord. “No! I didn’t mean this land. I meant THAT land.” and pointed to a part of society they abhorred. "Heal THAT land, Father."</div>
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But the Lord’a gaze did not shift. His focus remained on their home and yard.</div>
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“No, no, no. Not my home. Heal THAT home.” they shouted in desperation and motioned at their neighbor’s house.</div>
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They felt His unrelenting gaze burrow deep into their soul. His undivided attention made them uncomfortable. They felt His love, but also His fire. They felt exposed, naked, seen. And yet, they also felt loved, awakened, and known. </div>
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And they were silent. </div>
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They realized that the Lord first wanted to deal with their heart and their home. The prayer they were using to leverage change in the world had become a doorway for their own healing.</div>
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Humbled and moved by His love, the person kneeled down in surrender and said, “Okay, Lord, heal me.”</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;">If my people, who are called by my name,</span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-11339A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-11339A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;"> will humble</span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-11339B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-11339B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;"> themselves and pray and seek my face</span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-11339C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-11339C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;"> and turn</span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-11339D" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-11339D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;"> from their wicked ways, then I will hear</span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-11339E" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-11339E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;"> from heaven, and I will forgive</span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-11339F" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-11339F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;"> their sin and will heal</span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-11339G" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-11339G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;"> their land. 2 Chronicles 7:14</span></div>
TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-14901549485729168092020-04-25T07:27:00.000-07:002020-04-25T07:27:03.283-07:00My Journey into the Refiner's Fire <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s been a while since I’ve written a blog. There are a couple reasons for that: #1 - I’ve been working on a curriculum with a friend, so even though I’ve been doing a lot of writing recently, it’s for another project. #2 - I started doing some videos on the basics of prayer during this season of quarantine. I felt the Lord ask me to begin those a few weeks back, and so that became another “blog” outlet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">However, this morning I awoke with the feeling that it was time to write a blog today about a recent God-experience. A few days ago, I had an encounter that forever changed me. Let me explain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">A couple weeks ago, I posted on Facebook how there were certain lyrics I don’t sing unless I can sing them with complete sincerity. One of them came from a Maverick City Music song about wanting to be “tried by fire.” I was singing this song during a set at KHOP about a month ago and actually stopped when I got to that line.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Frankly, I didn’t want to be tried by fire. Yes to being purified, in some cosmic, esoteric, not tangible way where I can sing songs to Jesus, feel closer to Him, feel better about myself, and then continue on my way. But willingly put myself into the fire for Him? </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I think part of it stems from my real life experience with tragedy, death, betrayal, financial lack, severe disappointment, public humbling…. Why ask to be tried by fire when I’ve had my share of hardship and still feel a bit singed in certain areas of my heart? Why cry out for more refining when He’s going to refine me in His time anyway, as my life has proven?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, I wouldn’t sing that phrase. Keepin’ it real between me and God - I just would not sing, “I wanna be tried by fire.” I literally stopped the song half way through and put it aside.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And then the Lord met me this past Tuesday evening at KHOP in a powerful way. I felt His palpable holiness like I had not experienced in a while. In my mind’s eye, I saw Him walk into the room. The feeling of His holiness was so overpowering, </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I remember sitting there at the keyboard, this revelation hitting my spirit like a sunrise: that choosing to walk into the fire is an expression of love unto the Lord. It’s declaring that His love is worth it. That He is worth my heart being cleansed and purified and therefore growing in its capacity to love Him. That beholding His face is 100% worth having a pure heart, no matter the cost. He is worth everything.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Here’s another way of looking at it: Purification is not about me. I always thought it was. It’s not about God making me “holy enough” so He can stand to be around me. Jesus’ blood has already redeemed me and cleansed me of my sin. He already LOVES to be with me. Purification is about all the little foxes that can ruin the vineyard of our souls (Song of Songs 2:15). It’s the refiner’s fire and the launderer’s soap (Malachi 3, Hebrews 12, Zechariah 13, etc.). Purification is about Him. My “yes” to the fire is my gift to Him. And it’s His gift to me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In my mind I had separated His love from His fire. I saw them as two separate entities. What the Lord was showing me is that His love <b><i>is</i></b> fire. And His fire <b><i>is</i></b> love. It’s like trying to decide if God if more love than holy? Or is He more holy than love? The truth is, He is love and holy. He is holy and love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Later that evening at home, when I was alone, the Lord met with me. He opened my eyes and I beheld His nail-pierced feet on the cross. I pause, even as I type these words, allowing that holy moment to wash over me again. When I saw His feet, I groaned. Or yelled. It was completely involuntary. So, I’m not really sure how to describe it. It’s like my soul could not handle the beauty and weight of what I was glimpsing. His feet were holy. And like Isaiah, I was overcome by what I saw.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This verse went through my spirit, “How beautiful…are the feet of those who bring good news” (Is. 52:7a). I had never connected that verse to Jesus. I always thought about it in relation to us - that we are the ones with beautiful feet when we share the gospel. And it’s true the verse does have to do with feet that proclaim peace, good tidings, and salvation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">But in this moment, the Father was also showing me that Jesus, the One who both <b>is</b> the good news and preached the good news, that His wounded feet were beautiful. Jesus, the spotless Lamb, became obedient unto death on a cross. It was His gift to His Father and it was His gift to me. And to you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I am undone. Not sure how else to put it. I am undone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s time to sing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><i>Refiner</i></b> by Chandler Moore </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">(Maverick City Music)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">If the altar's where you meet us</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Take me there, take me there</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What you need is just an offering</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It's right here, my life is here</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And I'll be a living sacrifice for you</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">You're a fire</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The refiner</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I wanna be consumed</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I wanna be tried by fire</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Purified</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">You take whatever you desire</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Lord here's my life</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">If Your glory wants to come in</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Let it fall, we want it all</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Your fire is consuming</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Fill this place, set it ablaze</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So clean my hands</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Purify my heart</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I wanna burn for You</span></div>
TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-43770044030303595772019-11-16T17:16:00.000-08:002019-11-16T17:16:22.127-08:00Loss, Hope, & Glowing Embers<br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="color: #1d2129;">I had the honor once again of leading worship for a memorial service today, this time for a beautiful lady who lived to be 100 years old. I was thinking during the service how one of the common denominators of memorial services for those who profess Christ is </span><b style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: orange;">hope</span></b><span style="color: #1d2129;">. We do not mourn as if death is the end. Even in the midst of our grief, there is an irrepressible hope that invades our loss. We <i>know</i> we will see our loved ones again....it's just a matter of time. Resurrection is a promise that isn't relegated to a church celebration in spring. Resurrection is a Man who makes all things new and is Himself the doorway into abundant life, both here on this earth and in the age to come. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Do I mourn? Oh, yes. When grief hits me in waves and pours over me with all its weight and fury, and feels like it will crush me, I’ve learned to not quench it, but let is wash over me. And when the grief subsides, I cannot help but notice hope, like the most tenacious, glowing ember, warm and softly shining, leading me home. I absolutely cannot escape it. And every time I feel the loss of my loved one, their life is now framed with this inescapable, glorious hope. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What a gift.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Therefore encourage one another with these words.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">1 Thessalonians 4:13 - 18</span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-41754983614387281722019-11-08T07:54:00.001-08:002019-11-09T03:37:24.230-08:00The Issue of Compliments: Stumbling Block or Encouragement?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Some years back, I was leading a song for a Wednesday evening service at our church. This was back when I was just beginning to lead while playing the keys….so whatever the song was, I am sure it was simple. An older gentleman from our congregation came up to me afterwards and thanked me for leading the song. I smiled and said, “I just love Jesus.” Bewildered, he crinkled his eyebrows, gawked at the halo that was just then forming over my head, and responded, “Uhhh….I love Jesus, too.” and walked away. I am chuckling even as I type this. I knew immediately that I had blown it. My sanctimonious response was not helpful and pretty awkward in that moment of genuine gratitude.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, it got me thinking - how should I respond to compliments? Especially in regards to ministry?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">As a professional musician, I have always said, “Thank you.” when given an accolade after a performance. I have come to realize that those words work for worship, preaching, and teaching ministry as well. A simple “thank you” goes a long way. Depending upon the circumstance, I sometimes add phrases such as, “Thank you. It was our pleasure to worship with you.” or “Awww thanks. That means a lot. We had a lot of fun today!” Or if they say “thank you for your ministry,” I often reply something like, “You’re welcome. I loved being with you all today.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The key is to acknowledge the compliment (not dismiss it) and let the person know that I am grateful for their encouragement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Now, here’s what I try to do later that evening - this is something I learned from Kris Vallotton from Bethel Church in Redding, CA. During my time alone with the Lord, I give Him <i>all</i> of the compliments. I picture them as crowns that people have given me, and I lay them at the Lord’s feet (Revelation 4:10) in worship and gratitude. He’s the one that’s given me the musical gifts. He’s the one that granted me the grace and provision and tenacity to develop those gifts through years of practice and schooling. And as the Bible often declares, He’s the One who’s worthy, ultimately, of ALL praise and glory.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Now, I have to admit that there are certain compliments I really like and am tempted to keep in my soul’s display case. Or, maybe it’s the success of a conference or an album. There has been more than one occasion that, before the Lord, I admired a certain crown before I cast it at his feet. Maybe the accolade was for something I had worked extra hard at and I really appreciated that someone noticed…..that the event was a success. I actually tell the Lord how much I like that particular compliment or how the ministry success makes me feel important/proud/thankful/special,etc. I tell Him how good it feels that He used my worship (teaching/preaching/writing/evangelism, etc.) as the vehicle for someone to receive healing or how awesome it is that someone gave their heart to the Lord because I shared the gospel. In my heart, I see us holding up the crown in His light, noticing how the jewels sparkle, as we admire the compliment or success together……just like Robert and I admire his great report card while sitting together on our blue couch or how I hug and praise Ellie after she is cast as the lead in the school musical. And then, I hand God my crown. And Robert hands me his report card. And Ellie gives me her musical schedule so I can write it in my planner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I promise you, it feels soooo good when I give the Giver of all good gifts my crown. And who knows, maybe Abba Father has a massive fridge or shelf in heaven displaying all of our accolades and successes with the same gusto my fridge highlights my kid’s old stick figure masterpieces and school pictures.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Either way, I know that if I keep that compliment in my soul, however encouraging it is to me in that moment, it could become an object of worship, which will corrupt my gaze of the One who is worthy. Lucifer, former chief worship leader in heaven, fell because of pride and the desire to receive worship. That should be a warning to us all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What’s just some of the fruit of making this a spiritual habit? Humility. Gratitude. Worship. And the desire to encourage others with my words. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Another byproduct? The enemy can no longer use flattery to seed my soul with pride. Compliments no longer haunt me. I’ve noticed that once I cast the crowns before the Lord, I forget the details of what was spoken. And the words, however flattering they are in the moment, fade away into a warm, pleasant, and fuzzy memory.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Who knew that someone’s compliment could become a touchpoint for worship. Let’s cast some crowns before the One who is worthy of all honor, glory, and praise! </span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-67276056941568107852019-10-21T08:34:00.000-07:002019-11-13T20:13:16.871-08:00Mom Jeans and the World of Worship<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Age. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Growing older is a gift that not everyone receives in this life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Every once in a while I am reminded of my age, maybe through a Facebook Timeline pic, or a not-so-funny comment by a colleague. I am often reminded that many worship leaders my age are transitioning to other ministry positions, such as lead pastor, etc. And when I look in the mirror, I fight against the comparison that I do not look as cool as younger worship leaders in their skinny jeans and knit hats.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This weekend my friends and I had the opportunity to lead worship at an InterVarsity conference in Lansing. Although everyone on my team was younger than me, I wondered how the college students would react to us, especially how they would react to this “mother” being on stage. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I remember years ago listening to apologist Josh McDowell share how he felt that he became more effective in campus ministry the older he got. (My good friend Lena Shrader once shared that truth with me as well.) Mr. McDowell realized that young adults were looking for a father, and as he continued to age, a grandfather. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Although I remember agreeing with Mr. McDowell’s words, I did not know if this would hold true for the worship world. Many churches go for younger worship leaders and younger worship teams. I have been told that younger people on stage draw in younger crowds. I get that….to an extent. If we’re wanting to attract people to your churches and statistics show that younger, hip worship teams draw people, then I can see why we would make those changes. I've even heard this statement in the prayer movement world. I’m not saying I’m comfortable with that philosophy, but I can definitely understand the reasoning behind it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I know that one church in our city some years back sent out a letter to its older worship team members telling them that they were dismissed from the team because of their age. True story! And a person I knew that this had happened to was still in prime voice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, back to this weekend filled with jumping, dancing, prophetic declaration, soaring electric guitar riffs, powerful drumming, rap, words of knowledge, breakthrough prayer, and singing. </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">I witnessed 400+ college students engage in worship and praise, with about a third of them wrapped around the front of the stage.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">It’s been a couple of days since our last worship set and I’ve been thinking about how much fun we had and how connected the students seemed with our band.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Our band was multigenerational (I was the oldest) and we purposely chose songs and styles that would connect with the students.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">And yet, in the middle of it all, there I was, this obviously 40 something mother (sporting my “mom” jeans) leading the charge.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Perhaps they needed to see a mother on stage dancing before the Lord, prophesying their God-ordained destinies, and choosing to pour herself out as a drink offering.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Maybe it’s not the age that matters as much as how hard we burn.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">And I don’t mean how busy we stay….I mean how hard we burn with passion for the Lord.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Age didn’t stop an 80 year old Moses from leading the Israelites out of Egypt. Age did not stop the elderly Apostle John from receiving one for the greatest revelations known to humankind on the island of Patmos. Age did not stop Charles Finney from preaching the gospel during the Second Great Awakening. Age did not stop Mother Teresa from continuing to minster to the poor of Calcutta (and calling government leaders on the carpet) well into her golden years. And we’ve just recently seen how Billy Graham preached the gospel until the Lord finally took him home at the age of 99.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I think about how confident I was as a 20 something in campus ministry…..and yet how little I truly knew. Now, in my mid 40s, after years of pruning, pressure, and encounter, I am convinced that the little I do know is a gift and directly related to His grace. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Maybe Generation Z needs burning mothers and fathers who aren’t afraid of looking silly and dancing before the Lord. Maybe Millennials need mothers and fathers who have emerged from some horrendous storms with scars, but also deeper humility, wisdom and supernatural joy. Maybe the youth of today need to know mothers and fathers who can call down heaven with their intercession. Maybe my children need to see (and thankfully do see) church mothers and fathers who quietly and consistently serve, provide rides, and open up their homes to people in need…..and all because their Savior has taught them how to love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Am I totally comfortable with aging? No, not yet at least. But I’m beginning to understand that age is a gift…..and it’s not necessarily just a gift for me and my family. My age is a gift to those around me, to the congregations I lead in worship, and to the young adults I mentor. Age does not make me obsolete; age gives weight to my voice and compassion to my words.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And for those of you that will read this who trump me by one or two generations, I wrote this especially for you. YOU matter. Your voice is necessary. Your love is needed. And your wisdom is exactly what we crave in this hour. Please continue to pray. Please continue to lead. Please continue to model and preach the Word. Please continue to share your stories. We need you. Each and every one of you. We are listening. We are watching. We are learning. </span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-71936580029115419512019-10-04T07:59:00.001-07:002019-10-04T07:59:37.065-07:00Lack vs Faithfulness and Heaven's Perspective <div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Last night, I was laying in bed with the lights off, thinking about the Kalamazoo House of Prayer, a ministry for which I serve as the executive director. Earlier in the evening, I had suddenly gotten sick and was unable to finish leading prayer for a friend of mine’s worship set. I ended up going home early and staying home for the evening, which meant I ended up missing my own worship set from 8 - 10PM. I had texted a few friends to see if anyone could cover for me, but no one was available.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">You know how it goes……you’re recovering from getting ill, bummed at missing your worship set…..and thinking about “the lack” in the ministry. I was thinking about how I needed more worship leaders, prayer leaders, and watch leaders. I was praying and asking God to send us more people, to help me to recruit, etc. I pray these petitions often. And in that moment in my dark bedroom, I could only see what we needed. I could only see the issues.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Then, in the darkness, I heard the Lord speak to me. He said, “You look [at the prayer room] and see lack. I look and see faithfulness.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“You look and see lack. I look and see faithfulness.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And I was once again reminded that my version of success and God’s version is completely different. I measure by numbers and He measures by obedience. I see lack; He sees faithfulness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Be encouraged, my friends. Living out our “yes” to God means more than we know. And I’m beginning to see how our daily obedience is an act of worship. Whether it is in the big things or the small things, the Lord receives our “yes” as fragrant oil upon His feet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. </i></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b><i> </i></b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.</i></span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-55031429522199954942019-08-27T05:42:00.000-07:002019-08-27T05:42:01.303-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I was praying last night, bemoaning once again to the Lord about my wayward devotional life. I want to spend more time with the Lord, and then I end up offering Him what feels like the dregs of my day. Anyway, this was my cycle of thought. In the midst of this mental downward spiral, I heard the Holy Spirit respond something like this, “You rank your times with me, believing that it’s only when you’re alone with me that I am most pleased and everything else ranks far behind those times. I do not rank my times with you. I love being with you now, when you’re tired and getting ready to fall asleep. I love being with you at KHOP. I love being with you when you’re with your family. I love hearing you speak about me to others. I love it when you invite me to join you on a bike ride. I love being with you. All the time.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And I realized how I put this pressure on myself to create a devotional life that I think He would prefer….that He would rank high </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">on some divine metric. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Then I thought about how I love to spend time with my family, just the four of us, eating dinner together or doing a Bible study. Or, how I love to listen to Robert play his cello or to Ellie sing. But I also love to hear them giggle when watching a youtube video or hanging with their friends. And I love when they let me hug and cuddle them. I love doing life with them. Individually and all together. I love being <i>with</i> them because I love <i>them</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, today I rest in this reality that the God who created the heavens and the earth, who notices when a sparrow falls and has numbered the hairs on my head….this wonderful Father loves me and He loves to be with me every minute of every day, whether my heart is focused exclusively on Him or not. He simply loves to be with me. This encourages me, and frankly, it makes me want to pull aside and spend this quiet moment with Him. Just me and Him. Not because I have to, but because my soul has found the One I love.</span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-39730636810278200272019-06-24T07:28:00.000-07:002019-06-24T07:28:59.213-07:00Handling Unsolicited Criticism <br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">As a professional musician, I have lived much of my student and professional life within the context of criticism. (I blogged about this recently.) Solicited criticism is not a bad thing, because, when applied, it has contributed to consistent musical growth. In fact, one of my professors once told me that I would do well as a professional musician because I was teachable. That’s always stuck with me. May I continue to be teachable in all areas of my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">However, I have learned that <b>unsolicited criticism</b> about my personal life, family, ministry, or business can elicit a totally different response from me: anger, frustration, tears, self-righteous indignation, fear, resentment, self-doubt, anxiety, etc. And anyone leading a ministry for any length of time can tell you that criticism can sting just as bad from a hushed, passive-aggressive comment as a parishioner leaves church to the social media barb posted publicly to scratch anyone who accidentally stumbles across it. Both can feel like a punch in the gut.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, I want to share some of the ways I’ve learned and am still learning how to deal with unsolicited criticism. I hope my process is helpful to you:</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><b><span style="color: #0096ff; font-family: Helvetica Neue;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 150, 255); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 14px;">Dealing with </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 150, 255); caret-color: rgb(0, 150, 255); font-size: 14px;">Unsolicited </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 150, 255); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 14px;">Criticism</span></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">When the criticism is leveled against me personally or against the organization I lead, here are some questions I have learned to ask myself over the years:</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Is the criticism true?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Was it spoken in love?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Was it spoken out of a sincere desire to help me?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Is the other person offended with me or were they hurt by me….or were they hurt by another leader? </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">If so, how do I deal with that offense or hurt?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Is it a distraction?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Sometimes the criticism is completely false and is meant to only destroy and to distract, then I cast it before the Lord and let it go. However, if there’s even a hint of truth in it, even if I didn’t appreciate the way in which it was delivered, I bring it before the Lord in the following way:</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I take the specific criticism and (person who spoke it) in prayer before the Lord. First off, I vent my feelings to Him. Once I’ve calmed down a little (for real), I ask Him the following questions:</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>What do you say about this, Father? </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>What should I glean from this; what am I supposed to learn? (Sometimes the Lord uses people to bring His discipline into our lives. The Bible teaches that the Lord disciplines those He loves - Hebrews 12:6). Other questions to ask are, “Is this Your discipline? Are you pruning me through this?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>How should I respond?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Forgive</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Whether or not the comment is true, if it stings me, I take a moment and forgive the person who spoke it. If their motive was love and the criticism was meant for good, it can still hurt my feelings (which in no way means it was sin on their part to share). At that point, my “forgiveness” is really my intentionally releasing them from any hard feelings I would want to harbor against them. And I’ve learned over the years that if my feelings have gotten hurt, I know there’s something in my soul that the Lord is wanting to heal. So, before the Lord, (out loud) I forgive them and bless them. And sometimes I have to do this multiple times over the course of some days until I no longer feel the comment’s sting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Remember that <i>how</i> we respond is even more important than the validity of the comment. Pride goes before a fall. We need to be diligent to walk in humility, love, and grace, <i>especially</i> if the criticism is false. God’s favor surrounds the righteous like a shield. In moments like this, we must choose to come into agreement with Christ’s righteous nature that dwells inside of us through the blood of Jesus. Ugliness is never a justified response. We overcome pride with humility, chaos with shalom, and hate with love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">When do we reach out to friends or family to help us navigate the criticism? Besides my husband, I have a group of friends I ask to pray over things in my life. When unsolicited criticisms come, without divulging details that would cast a particular individual in a bad light, I ask for their prayers. I trust they hear from the Lord and He will speak to them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And it goes without saying that gossip is never an appropriate response. So be careful how you share and with whom you share. Always speak with honor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Gossip</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What is my personal gauge as to what constitutes gossip? When my motivation for sharing the information has no redeeming purpose behind it; when it secretly makes me feel better than the “poor soul” I’m talking about; when it’s salacious in nature. In summary, if I wouldn’t share it with Jesus sitting next to me, I shouldn’t share it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Seeking Counsel </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">When the criticism affects my organization/business/ministry, I also seek the counsel of Godly men and women in my life. KHOP has a board of directors, so I go to them for issues that directly affect KHOP. I also have other colleagues and mentors whose advice I seek from time to time when dealing with issues. I am so grateful that the Lord has surrounded me with amazing people whose wisdom and discernment I can lean on. Sounds like a song I know….</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I wish after all these years that I can say I always handle unsolicited criticism with perfect maturity. I don’t, but the above process has certainly helped. Here’s to learning how to grow together!</span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-54777302658886820802019-05-11T12:34:00.000-07:002019-05-11T14:42:29.378-07:00Confessions of a Recovering Professional Musician Part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">Last night I had the opportunity to record some flute and piano tracks with a friend.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">It’s the first time I’ve gone into a studio for the sole purpose of creating a solo project.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">I’ve had studio experience over the years, but in college it was mostly for competition audition CDs or university-related projects, and once I graduated, it was for others’ album projects.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">I always wanted to record myself, but I never felt good enough.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">In spite of winning positions in two professional symphonies, headlining professional recitals, and teaching at four different colleges…..I never felt good enough.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">At my core, I still wrestled with self-doubt.</span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Then, at the age of 32, I entered the vocational worship world. I had been leading worship for almost a decade by this point, but always as a volunteer. At 32, I was hired to serve on staff at a church as one of the primary worship leaders. During this time, I thought about recording myself, but I still struggled with crippling self-doubt internally. I always felt my style of singing was not modern enough for contemporary worship. I wrote songs that my congregation sang, but I did not feel they were necessarily good enough to record. (Although I did do a little recording of lullabies and a few of those worship tunes in a friend’s basement during that season.) I literally told myself during this time, “Who would want to hear my voice in their car?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">A few years ago, the Lord began to reveal to me how I’ve been the one holding myself back. It was this sense that He was waiting for me to finally go and do it - to begin recording myself as a singer and musician. So, I made myself begin to Facebook Live here and there, when I felt moved by the Holy Spirit to do so. And even when I made mistakes, felt like I was hacking up a lung, or ended up with a terrible camera angle (Hello, double chin! Yikes!), I kept the videos up because I knew they were meant to help others engage with the Lord in worship.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, last night, at the age of 45, I finally entered the studio to record myself doing what I love: worshipping the Lord with the flute. I was slammed with anxiety earlier in the day and still felt a little nervous as I arrived at the studio, but in the end, we had a good time doing it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Over the years, I have learned a few tidbits as a ‘recovering' professional musician that I wanted to share:</span></div>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Talent is a gift….and not just for others. God gave me musical ability because He knew <b><i>I</i></b> would enjoy using it. And He enjoys hearing and watching me use my gift. I remember Eric Liddell’s (Chariots of Fire runner) comment, “God made me fast. And when I run, I feel God’s pleasure.” In the same way, I love watching my daughter make popover pancakes in the morning or play basketball on her school’s team. I love her just because she is my daughter. Thus, I love cheering on everything she does. Sometimes I have to remind myself that God enjoys me all of the time, even during moments when I’m not engaged in [music] worship or leading someone to the Lord. He loves me and He loves being with me. And when I perform in a symphony or ride my bike on a trial, He is mesmerized just because it’s me and I’m His daughter. How freeing is that?!</span></li>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">I am allowed to make mistakes. Seems simple. right? But for a professional musician, making a mistake during a symphony audition could mean the difference between getting admitted into the next round of auditions or not. This kind of hypercritical perspective, though helpful for entering the professional symphonic world, can wreak havoc upon one's soul. Please note - [I am not criticizing the pursuit of excellence. I am instead harpooning toxic perfectionism that poisons a soul with the fear of never measuring up.] I think the fear of not being good enough kept me from sharing my gift through a digital format with the world, as if there was this imaginary panel of perfection judges who would mock and criticize my work if it didn’t meet their impossible criteria. However, I realized that that panel only existed in my own head. So, I am learning to give myself permission to share my imperfect gifts with the world.</span></li>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">By choosing <i><b>not</b></i> to share my gift, I am hindering how the Lord wants to use me. He gave me gifts with purpose, and part of how I walk in the fullness of all He has for me to do while I walk this planet is by submitting my gifts to His Lordship and allowing Him to use me however He sees fit. If He wants to use me in public ways - awesome. And if He wants me to solely, privately pour my talents out on his head and feet in worship - awesome. The key is my ‘Yes' to trusting He is a good Father and has only my best interests at heart. </span></li>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">That’s all I’ll share for now. Anyway, stay tuned (pun intended) for the release of some upcoming projects. If you were looking for permission to run with what God has put in your heart to do - please know I’m rooting for you! It’s time to fly - or in my case - it’s time to play/sing!</span></div>
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(Watercolor by Janet Bishop. Flutist is Tami Flick, i.e. me!)<br />
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<br />TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-69125151102537266572019-05-07T21:18:00.000-07:002019-05-07T21:18:22.953-07:00A Splinter, a Pruning Saw, and a Loving Gardener<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, today the Lord exposed a splinter I had lodged in my soul. I kind of knew the splinter was still there, but I had learned to avoid ever touching that area and only winced when others accidentally touched it. And then today, in God’s lovingkindess, He blew His breath of life once again into my inmost being and I felt the little splinter….and I finally saw it from His perspective. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s amazing how a little splinter can cloud my vision and harden my heart. It not only hardened my heart towards a particular individual, it hardened my heart towards God. And truly, I never understood that until His Spirit revealed it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What was my splinter? Resentment. How did Jesus prune me? By convicting my heart of sin. What was my response? Confession and repentance….and not just to God, though I began there; I was compelled to confess and repent to the person whom I had come to resent. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And what did God do? He forgave me and healed me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And what did the other person do? They forgave me and spoke words of life to my soul.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">During worship tonight, I had this inner vision of the Lord as the master gardener, tending the garden of my soul. I saw him pruning a large section of this one bush. I saw that some sort of parasite or fungus had diseased a large branch, almost down to the root. This section was completely dead, no leaves, just bare branches. Jesus came with a small hand saw and with surgeon-like precision, carefully cut off that large section. His work was thorough, and nothing was left that was dead. His pruning left a strange and a bit unsightly open area on the side of the bush. It did not look very attractive to my eyes. Then, I saw him kneel down and carefully plant seeds all around the bush. I knew he was planting flowers that would eventually surround this particular bush. His goal was not to camouflage what pruning he had done, but to create beauty out of ashes….almost to draw attention to how healthy the rest of the bush looked, even with its odd, new shape. In my vision, I saw Jesus smile, very pleased with his work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">How do I feel now? Free. And honestly, I did not know I wasn’t free in that area before. I knew there was still an issue, but I did not know that “issue” was actually sin that I needed to confess and repent. But now that I’ve experienced the amazing love of God so perfectly and specifically demonstrated in this gently pruning, I feel such peace and thankfulness. Well, and I do feel a bit humbled and exposed, for sure…..but the good kind of exposure…like when an unexpected, but refreshing breeze hits the nape of my neck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>I am the true vine and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit, he prunes so that it will be be even more fruitful.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>John 15:1 - 2</i></span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-1037099554667493432019-03-18T19:24:00.000-07:002019-03-19T05:32:25.968-07:00Missed Busses, Tears, & A God Who Cares<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(27, 30, 33); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #1b1e21; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Ellie had gone to swim team practice, Robert was rehearsing with his orchestra, and I was peacefully sitting on our living room sofa, working on Revive Worship stuff, when my ears picked up the jarring sound of moaning and sobbing. I looked up and outside our living room window, searching for the cry's origin. I spotted a lone middle schooler across the street, wandering in circles and crying. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I quickly exited our front door, walked onto our front lawn and called over to him, "What's wrong? Do you need something? How can I help you?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Through his tears, he yelled across the street, ”I missed my bus. I missed my bus. I don’t know what to do.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">"Come on over here," I answered, beckoning with my hand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">He wiped his tears and started towards me, dodging a passing car as he crossed the street. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">From what I could sort out, after he got close enough to share his story, he had stayed after school for a rehearsal of some sort and ended up missing the Metro bus. He needed to get home but did not know how and obviously felt completely hopeless at his predicament. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The air was getting chilly, so I brought him inside our home as I gathered my keys, jacket, and purse to take him where he needed to go. (He said he lived at the Knight's Inn....not the nicest motel....which also broke my heart....but he asked to be taken to the bus depot downtown so he could take the bus home). </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> If you've read any of my recent blogs, you'll know this is not the first time we've given a middle schooler a ride. However, this was the first time we've given this particular young man a ride. Hearing his sobbing was heart-breaking. Ugh. Normally I work upstairs in our bedroom, where it's warmer. I'm thankful the Lord had me down on the first level, right next to the window, so that I'd notice his cry above the steady din of traffic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This got me thinking: Our beautiful God cared enough about a middle school boy whom He knew would miss his bus, that he'd position me near enough our front window so that I could hear his cry. Jesus taught us in Matthew 10 that our Father in heaven cares about a sparrow who falls to the ground. And in the very next breath He explained to His disciples how the Father has numbered the very hairs on each of our heads. Our Father takes that depth of loving, focused interest in each of us. Wow! Hopefully this will encourage you and me yet again how much He truly cares about us. And He always hears our cry.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><span style="font-kerning: none;">and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>“</b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b> </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b> </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” Matthew 10:29 - 31</span></div>
TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-86903393204758748112019-03-04T19:46:00.001-08:002019-03-05T07:56:36.166-08:00Messing Up and God's Power<br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I hate making mistakes. And like most people, I have made some “doozies” in my time. From little ones such as adding too much salt to a cookie recipe to bigger (more costly) ones such as forgetting a music lesson or missing an insurance payment, I just hate making mistakes. I hate letting people down. Mistakes humble me. Mistakes are a constant reminder of how imperfect I am. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I remember one time playing a rather famous flute solo at the wrong measure in a professional symphony orchestra. Yeah, that stunk. Can you imagine the horror of realizing your conductor is trying to flag you down to hopefully get you to fix your mistake mid-flow? Yikes! And another time in college when just minutes before entering the stage for a performance, I realized I had forgotten my orchestra music in my dorm room, which required me to run back (up hill) to said dorm in a pair of heels (ugh!) only to end up missing the first movement of that orchestra piece I had just gone to retrieve. Imagine the surprise of my director as I slunk back onto the stage in between movements. That was definitely <i>not</i> a highlight of my collegiate music career.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, recently I made big mistake, bigger than burning a random tray of cookies: I arrived at the wrong time for a worship gig. Because I had not shown (and was leading worship for the close of the conference), the organizer decided to end the conference early. Ugh. I was walking in when everyone was packing up to leave. Soooo mortifying.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This mistake really messed with me and I just could not shake it. I felt so stupid. Our family was hosting some friends for dinner that evening, so I didn’t really have time to process how I felt with the Lord. I just drove home and started prepping for the dinner. After dinner was done and our friends had gone, I dove into some soul-numbing Netflix and went to bed. When I awoke the next morning, I still felt that gnawing humiliation and so I binged on more Netflix. Finally, I was tired of feeling like junk and decided it was time to speak with the Lord about it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I lay on my bed and cried out for His help. “Why am I still feeling so bad, Abba? Why can’t I shake this? Ahhh! Help me!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I heard Him speak this verse to my spirit, “My power is made perfect in your weakness.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It was like light exploded in my spirit. God created us knowing we would screw up. Before Adam and Eve had ever sinned, from the foundation of the world (Rev. 13:8), the Lamb had already been slain. He planned for redemption before Eve ever took her first bite of the forbidden fruit. Jesus' atoning death on the cross wasn't the Father's last minute pinch hitting after a bad day in the garden. He knew Adam and Eve would sin and He already had a plan in place! Come on!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Although my mistake of arriving at the wrong time for a worship gig was not a sin, just a mistake, this scripture promises me that He still chooses to perfect His power in my weakness….from the big to the small. He knows I'm going to mess up and each time, His power is ready to be perfected. He pours His power into those moments and somehow, with His beautiful grace, makes all things new.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Hearing this truth washed my soul of its humiliation. And I lay there on my bed, no longer agonizing about my failure and people’s possible frustration with me, but resting in His love. Just like that. It evaporated. From humiliation to acceptance. From shame to love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Now there are times when it takes me much longer to journey through the mess in my soul. For whatever reason, the process just takes a little longer. Whether the journey is short or long, His love is what pulls me through into wholeness. Truly, His grace is sufficient.</span></div>
TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-8013159948633634702019-01-02T17:16:00.000-08:002019-01-02T17:16:33.946-08:00Choosing Compassion & Generosity<br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">He was back tonight. In the middle of stirring the potato and ham soup on the stove, I heard the knock: It was the young teen with the spiky blond dreads, waiting at our door.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Hi, can I have a ride again? This time it’s just down the road.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I hurried to the stairs and yelled up to John, “The young guy’s back. Needs a ride. Says it’s closer this time.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">John was upstairs resting a little before dinner was served. But I heard his, “Okay.” and the rustling of the bed as he climbed out to come downstairs to once again serve this young man.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I invited the young man to come inside out of the icy rain while we waited for John to appear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And John quickly made his way down the stairs, grabbed his wallet and keys, put on his shoes, and greeted the young man. No groan. No complaint. Just pleasant words and a smile. And off they went.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This is at least the third, maybe fourth time this young man has stopped by for a ride after he finished playing hoops at the YMCA. If he plays too long, he misses the bus and then has to walk home, which is a couple mile hike through the city. Tonight he must have played too long.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">My husband often gives people rides. To serve in an urban church as a car owner, often means we also serve as transportation to and from church….and sometimes to the bus depot….or the doctor, etc. There have been times I’ve gotten frustrated by all the persistent asks, but most of the time I’m good. And I’m reminded that I <i>can</i> spare that $10 bill or the time it takes to take a friend home. Compassion. Generosity. These are lifestyle choices I want my children to emulate. Not just so they grow to be good people, but because Jesus told us to give when we are asked (and we have it to give). Being generous is a Kingdom value. Our King modeled extravagant generosity and compassion, and I should, too. But generosity and compassion is not always my desire; I don’t wake up imagining how I can bend over backwards for people. I usually wake up thinking about me and my family. During this process of being conformed into Christ’s image, compassion and generosity can often feel awkward, irritating, and unnatural. So until that point where I look and smell and sound like Jesus and living this holy life becomes easy (does that ever happen?), I still have to <i>choose</i> to be compassionate and generous.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Now there have been times we’ve had to stop giving when someone began to take advantage of our kindness. (We are not an ATM…) And we always try and direct people to ministries that can help people in ways our family budget is not equipped to help them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Years ago, I remember my husband John teaching on the three areas of giving in the Old Testament: Tithes, Offerings, and Alms. I grew up with a healthy understanding of the tithe (giving 10% of our income to the Lord) and offerings (above and beyond the 10%, i.e. giving to missions, other ministry projects, hurricane relief, etc.). However, it was in that message I learned how giving alms [to the poor] was a command of scripture to the Hebrews. Giving to the poor was not optional, it was a command that allowed the poor to be helped and served in their communities. Giving to the poor <i>without</i> a begrudging heart allows the Lord to bless us in all our work and in everything we put our hand to (Deut. 15). Eye-opening to say the least!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In fact, in Ezekiel 16, the city of Sodom brought judgment upon itself partially because of ignoring the poor and needy. In Acts 10, Cornelius’s prayers and gifts to the poor ascended before the throne of God as a memorial offering. A gentile’s consistent generosity and fervent prayers caught Yahweh’s attention to the point that he sent Peter, a Jewish believer, to share the gospel to Cornelius and his entire family. Generosity and compassion weigh heavily before the Lord.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I’m still learning. Still growing. And my attitude in the moment does not always reveal the kindness of God. Here’s a prayer I pray almost every morning with my kids as I drive them to school, “Help us, Lord, to love as You love, see people as You see people, and serve them as You would serve them. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Hold on, let me grab my keys….</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord,</i></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><i> </i></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>and he will reward them for what they have done. </i></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"> Proverbs 19:17</span></div>
TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-77450752139534370812018-12-15T08:03:00.000-08:002018-12-15T10:40:56.708-08:00How Great is Our God Rock: How I Stumbled into Multicultural Worship <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My peeps and I leading worship at an InterVarsity conference in October 2018</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Sometimes we experience moments in our lives that prove to be watershed moments, but occur without much fanfare when they’re actually happening. The one I’m thinking about this morning was a music rehearsal back in September of 2011.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">At the time, I was part of a worship team that was a mixture of people from First Presbyterian Church in Paw Paw and a group my husband and I had taken on a mission trip to Poland. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Through an organization called Transformation Michigan, I had gotten connected to a local pastor named Valarie Cunningham and her church Greater Faith Empowerment Center. We were both mobilizing people to attend TheCall Detroit in our spheres of influence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Upon meeting me, Valarie invited my worship team to combine with her church’s team and lead worship at a youth meeting she was feeling led to host. She had never heard us play or sing, but somehow knew this combination of musicians and singers would work. No big deal, right? Well.....my worship team was 100% white and her worship team was a 100% black.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I will always remember that first rehearsal with our combined teams. Like any good (white) worship leader, I had brought a pile of chord charts so that every person on the team could have their own set. And like any good (black) worship leader, my friend Tammi from GFEC brought no chord charts because songs were listened to, aurally studied, and even memorized in advance before the team ever met. Song sheets were not necessary for their rehearsals.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I will always remember the incredulous look on Tammi’s face when I brought in that pile of chord charts and spread it out on the front row of chairs. It was probably akin to the feeling of a Slovakian looking at a pair of chopsticks for the first time, "Uhhhh....I'm supposed to eat using those??" </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Thankfully, Tammi was able to locate a few sheets of paper with lyrics on them for the new songs we were learning. And quite honestly, any bit of paper in that moment gave me the same level of comfort that my children’s beloved blankies would bring to them in a new place.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">During the rehearsal, Tammi told us we were doing the song “How Great is Our God Rock.” Somehow I missed that last word - “rock.” I was confident in my experience with the Chris Tomlin version of this worship classic. As soon as Tammi’s team began to sing and play the rhythms and sing the harmonies of the “rock” version, I remember thinking, “Toto, you’re not in Kansas anymore.” Their version had come from an African American worship leader named Todd Galberth - and it was waaaaay faster and had been infused with gospel rhythms and harmonies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, I recognized most of the words, but the tempo and feel were completely different. I remember hyper-concentrating to be able to clap (on the 2 and 4 of course) while learning the new vocal rhythms and harmonies. My only goal in that moment was to try and musically keep up with my new friends. Well, and to not look stupid. (Confession…)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I remember how Phil (keyboardist for GFEC) was playing with no song charts, so my keyboardist Jared and guitarist Adam were looking over Phil's shoulders to try and discern which chords Phil was playing. And let it be known that those chords were not simple 3 note triads. His were beautiful and colorful 9th, 11tth, and 13th chords. It was a learning experience for all of us!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">But we all persevered and laughed a lot. The GFEC team learned some of our songs and we learned some of theirs.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jesus Loves Kzoo OneWorship team @ Haven Church May 2014</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Just a couple of weeks later, we led worship together for that youth meeting. We had a mixture of youth and adults from a variety of churches who attended. My pastor’s teenage daughter Hanna was present. She has the incredible ability to see into the unseen realm with her physical eyes. In the Bible, people with her gift are called “seers.” (Think Samuel, Ezekiel, Isaiah, etc.) I asked her afterwards what she had seen as we were worshiping together. She said that as we were singing the song “Let it Rain” she saw it literally raining on the people in that sanctuary. She had never seen that manifestation of God’s glory before.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In the Bible, over and over again, rain is symbolic of God’s blessing. How amazing that the Lord showered us with His blessing as we forged a new path of unity with a white worship team and a black worship team coming together to worship. Little did we know at the time how significant that connection was. It was soon after that that seven area churches gathered together to hold a pre-TheCall Detroit worship and prayer event. And it was just a few months after TheCall Detroit, in February of 2012, that we held the first 24 hour Greater Kalamazoo Prayer Push at Greater Faith Empowerment Center. In fact, our two worship teams combined again in the fall of 2012 for a regional multicultural women’s conference. What an explosive weekend! (I remember ending up laid out on the floor while leading worship. Powerful presence of the Lord!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Here are some things I learned early on as I explored the uncharted waters of multicultural worship:</span></div>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(148, 55, 255); color: #9437ff;"><b>Blessed are the flexible for they shall not break! </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> It’s important to be willing to try new styles, genres, and songs. Don’t disqualify yourself from exploring different genres of music because of the amount of melanin in your skin. The Body of Christ offers a richness in musical styles and it would be a sad thing to ignore certain genres because we feel “too white” or “too black” to do a style justice. Here’s a quote from J.S. Bach that has undergirded my thinking for over 20 years, “The aim and final end of all music is none other than the glory of God and the refreshment of the soul.” Does the music glorify God? Does it refresh your soul? Then, go for it! Learn new songs, study new styles, and explore new rhythms and harmonies.</span></li>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(148, 55, 255); color: #9437ff;"><b>It’s okay to look a little foolish. </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> Growth happens when we choose to try something new. It makes it really hard to grow if we’re always worried about what others are thinking about us. This desire to look “cool” is rooted in the fear of wo/man and will always stunt our spiritual and musical growth.</span></li>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(148, 55, 255); color: #9437ff;"><b>Leave ego at the door.</b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> The pursuit of oneness in Christ requires us to put others first. We need to be wiling to not always lead, but sometimes serve in anonymity. “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” (James 4:6b) In our pursuit of unity, we need as much grace as the Lord will give us. It’s important to remember that humility is the key to receiving His grace for the journey.</span></li>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In January of 2019, my friends and I are launching the Revive Worship Collective, a prophetic, multicultural worship school that was birthed out of the our Revive Worship Initiative conferences. It’s interesting to think that three of our RWC faculty were in that first watershed rehearsal back in September of 2011. And it’s interesting to see how we’ve all grown and developed as worship leaders and musicians who have served as bridges in the worship world in our region over the last seven years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Was I imagining a multicultural worship school when I walked into that first rehearsal? Nope, not at all. I was excited to merge our two musical cultures and worship our beautiful King in unity. That simple “yes” set a trajectory from which we are still reaping the fruit. I wonder what “yes” He is inviting us into today…. To God be the glory!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>To find out more about the Revive Worship Collective, check out our website: </b><a href="http://www.reviveworship.info/"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><b>www.reviveworship.info</b></span></a><b>. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion,</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b> </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind.</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b> </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b> </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” Philippians 2:1 - 4</span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-55409717571182338722018-11-18T21:20:00.000-08:002018-11-18T21:20:00.810-08:00Confession <br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Confession </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I just learned tonight how confession is sacred. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Last night, my family was playing cards. We had come to a point in the game during which I announced that “Your daddy is an honest man.” I must have been defending some play he had made. Anyway, the moment I said those words, I felt the burning conviction of the Holy Spirit hit my spirit. And in that moment, I realized that <b><i>I</i></b> had not been honest and was hiding a secret from my husband. In short, without divulging too much, I had created a financial mess and was trying to privately clean it up. Well, in that moment, the Holy Spirit gripped my heart and I knew that I could hide my sin no more. Ugh.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, I went to bed mulling over this conviction in my heart. I knew I needed to confess, but I also knew my husband had had a challenging week - one of his business clients had been hit with cyber terrorism (which John was trying to figure out how to retrieve many terabytes of encrypted files without have to pay the ransom)….all while fighting through a terrible cold. In my mind, this was not the best time to confess my sin.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I went to bed and awoke early in the morning from an extremely convicting dream that showed the impact of the lie upon my soul. Wow. It’s amazing how God can get our attention when He needs to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, there I was at 5AM, having awoken from a startling dream revealing the infection of my soul, still trying to figure out how and when to confess. On top of it all, I knew I was leading worship in just a few hours and I did not want to bring my sin with me. Bring my brokenness? Yes. God’s power is perfected in my weakness. But my unrepented sin? No. God is loving, forgiving, <b><i>and</i></b> holy. I have always treated the worship pulpit with great respect and in no way did I want to knowingly bring my worship to the Lord while still clinging to an unrepented sin.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I lay in my bed, praying and confessing my sin to God and made a commitment before heaven that later that day I would confess what I had been hiding to my husband. And I did.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The thing about confession, is that it makes us feel so exposed. And it reveals another level of the fear of wo/man in our lives. Did I really think my husband would love me any less? No. But I was trying to avoid him thinking less of me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What was John's response when I finally went to him and confessed my sin? Kindness. Forgiveness. Grace. Advice. And love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And what was my response? Relief. Thankfulness. Gratitude. Love. A feeling of oneness with my husband. Resolve. And a few tears.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And what was God’s response to my obedience in confessing my sin to my husband? I felt His smile and pleasure. And love. Always love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And now I see more than ever that conviction and confession are God’s way of exposing and healing the tares in our souls. God never exposes to humiliate. He only exposes to heal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Confession tears down unholy walls of protection we’ve erected around our pet sins. And confession becomes a gateway to repentance; a shift of focus from the power of our sin to our powerful Savior who changes our way of thinking. Confession alone does not bring the change. Repentance does that. But confession is a sacred and necessary first step on the journey of restoration.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So there it is, folks. Just processing the grace I received tonight: a God who loves me enough to remove anything in my life that hinders love. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound...</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>1 John 1:9</i></span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-48878569954006253942018-11-09T11:49:00.000-08:002018-11-12T14:34:26.840-08:00From Unity to Oneness <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Yesterday, I was at our annual Jesus Loves Kalamazoo Vision Team retreat. (These peeps right here^^^. )We were praying, worshiping, God-dreaming, and asking the Lord to show us how and where to move as a movement in 2019. We had been talking about how over the last five years, our movement has worked hard to develop a depth to our unity, i.e. to not get stuck in celebrating broad, but shallow unity. About five years ago, we felt the Lord was challenging us as a movement to deepen our unity by opening our lives to each other. Not just colleagues in the Kingdom, but figuring out how to live as family with the same Father.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Now, that’s a paradigm shift, right? The transition from pulpit sharing to double dating as couples. From strategizing at meetings to vacationing together as families. Relationships that were friendly, but perhaps shallow. God had something deeper in store for us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Jesus was inviting this movement to grow our roots deep into the soil of His love (Eph. 3:17). We’re learning that we share the same root system: different trees on the surface, but the same root system connecting all of our trees in His soil.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, this understanding got me meditating again on the concept of Biblical unity. Or, as Jesus puts it, “being one.” Here’s the blog that resulted:</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>What’s the big deal with unity?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I don’t think unifying around a cause is all that hard to do. We see it all the time as entertainers come together for a telethon or people send money and resources to areas that were hit hard by natural disasters. In the book of Genesis, we see negative unity as the people of the earth came together to build a tower to the heavens in rebellion against God. I think history proves that people can unite behind a cause, whether good or bad, at least temporarily.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In the body of Christ, God has been inspiring His body to come together in unity as well, with events such as OneRace at Stone Mountain, GA (to destroy racism), the Palau Association’s City Fest up in Grand Rapids, or our very own Jesus Loves Kalamazoo’s Catalyst Week. All are Holy Spirit-inspired causes that bring people together to pray, worship, share the gospel, and love the people of their cities. All of these things are beautiful, powerful, Biblical, and completely necessary. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">However, I believe God wants us to deepen our unity. I would suggest that it’s possible to unite for a cause but not live in unity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Psalm 133</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Behold, how good and how pleasant it is</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>For brothers to dwell together in unity!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>It is like the precious oil upon the head,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Coming down upon the beard,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Even Aaron’s beard,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Coming down upon the edge of his robes.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>It is like the dew of Hermon</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Coming down upon the mountains of Zion;</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>For there the Lord commanded the blessing—life forever.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In Psalm 133, the Psalmist describes “brethren dwelling together in unity” as akin to anointing oil flowing down the high priest’s robe. This oil was a specially designed oil, with a recipe given from Yahweh Himself, to set apart Aaron and his sons for priestly service. The Psalmist goes on to say that “God commands His blessing” when brethren dwell together in unity. There is something catalytic about unity that captures the attention of our heavenly Father and compels Him to bless us, the level of blessing that causes an arid, desert mountain to experience a life-giving dew. Profound images to shape our understanding of unity. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">According to my personal study of this passage, some scholars believe that the unity described in this Psalm occurred within the context of the Israelites traveling to Jerusalem to celebrate certain feasts. Learning this context encouraged me as my friends and I began to gather believers for worship and prayer events back in 2011. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Then in the New Testament, Jesus takes the concept of unity and redefines it into His own image: </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>“My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message,</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b><i> </i></b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me.</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b><i> </i></b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one—</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b><i> </i></b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.” John 17:20 - 23</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Jesus uses His relationship with His Father to define the type of unity He desires to see among His disciples. Wow! Think about it. We’re not just talking about uniting behind a cause, or even living together as a family. He’s using the Godhead - three persons, one God, to describe the unity He desires to see. This is completely supernatural. There is no way humans can come together and create that kind of synergy on our own. Aaaaaand, this is a unity that causes the world to know that the Father has sent the Son. So, it’s a unity that serves as a catalyst for harvest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In Hebrews 1:1 - 3a, the writer makes this beautiful statement, <i>“In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways,</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b><i> </i></b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe. </i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b><i> </i></b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word.”</i> So, when you see the Son, you are seeing the Father. Although they are different persons, they are the same. If Jesus did something, then the Father did that very thing through His Son. Jesus Himself said, “If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen the Father.”*</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>So how does this work on a practical level? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Or is this a promise of what is to come?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">When we receive the free gift of salvation,** we receive the promised Holy Spirit as a deposit guaranteeing we belong to Him. It’s the seal of our redemption. (2 Cor. 1:22) So, we know that every believer in Jesus shares the same Holy Spirit. His Spirit marks us, sets us apart, declaring to the seen and unseen realm that we belong to Jesus. Although on the surface we notice the color of each other’s skin, the shade of our hair, the height or width of our bodies, our gender differences, etc. in the unseen realm, it’s the Holy Spirit that is THE distinguishing mark of a believer. It is impossible to conceal the fact that we’ve been born again to both demon and angel alike. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, it’s Christ <b><i>in</i></b> us that unifies us. We share the same Father. The same brother. The same Spirit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>So, why would Jesus have to pray this prayer if His Spirit is all that was needed to cause us to be one? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">We know that Jesus never wasted words. He purposely prayed this prayer in front of His disciples so that they could hear and John could eventually record His words. So, His language was intentional.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I think perhaps the key to oneness is the phrase “May they also be in us so that the World may believe that you have sent me.” <i>Is it possible to have the Holy Spirit dwelling in our spirits, but to not be in Jesus?</i> I would say yes and no. Theologically, we are seated in heavenly places in Christ Jesus (Eph. 2:6). Right now, we are seated <b><i>in</i></b> Him. Yet, until we believe and walk in that truth, it’s possible to live a life way below the fullness of all that He has intended for us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Likewise, I think it is possible to be born again, but to not be walking fully <b><i>in</i></b> Jesus. Having written all this, I feel like I just entered into some profound theological thought, and I’m not sure my “wader” boots are high enough for these waters. But, I bring this up because I want us to begin to pray and meditate upon these words. If Jesus prayed this prayer, surely this level of unity is possible, even before His return.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>What does it mean to be in Jesus?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I think of being in Jesus as if He were standing next to me, and I could step into Him. So, now people can no longer see me, they see Jesus. However, it’s not that I lose myself by stepping into Him, it’s that my talents, my vocation, my skin, my personality, my body type, my gender, no longer define me. I am still fully me IN Him. However, it’s who He is that defines me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, it’s not conformity on the outside that brings about unity. It’s being IN Christ that causes us to be one. He in me, I in Him. We’re not all stepping into separate Christs. We are all stepping into Jesus Christ. We are choosing to be one with Him and thereby we become one with our brothers and sisters.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>So, how does that work out in the practical?</i> Well, that’s where the rubber hits the road, right? In no way am I declaring an expertise in being one with my brothers and sisters in Christ. Judgment still clouds my mind and petty jealousies can tear my soul. Ugh. Too much. (Thank God for grace!) </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Having said all that, I want to share some practical things I’ve learned to do (or am learning to do) as I seek to be one with my brothers and sister in Christ:</span></div>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Recognize them as brothers and sisters who share the same Father.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Refuse to break relationship even when we disagree.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Forgive often and forgive fully.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Celebrate when they celebrate.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Grieve when they grieve.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Support them, whether through encouraging words, resources, or prayers.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Challenge them when necessary.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Love them.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">And if possible, spend time together.</span></li>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Notice that the things mentioned are not contingent on how others treat me. These things are 100% contingent on how God has demonstrated His love for us. In the same way, I can only do these things by being IN Christ. And even that decision is made possible only by His grace and goodness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I’m not really sure how to end this blog. It sure hasn’t ended in my heart. As the body of Christ we’ve been exploring what it means to do walk in unity and love our city well. I challenge all of us, including myself, to ask the Lord to grow our roots into His perfect love, knowing that as we allow Him to root us and establish us in His love, He is actually rooting and establishing us together, in Him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>For in Him we live and move and have our being. </i> (Acts 17:28)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">*John 14:5 - 11</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>5 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>6 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>7 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">If you really know me, you will know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>8 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>9 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Jesus answered: “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>10 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you I do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>11 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the works themselves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">**Romans 10: 9 - 13</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“that if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>10 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">For with the heart one believes unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>11 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">For the Scripture says, “Whoever believes on Him will not be put to shame.” </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>12 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek, for the same Lord over all is rich to all who call upon Him. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>13 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">For “whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”</span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-76419516566478349142018-10-07T14:06:00.000-07:002018-10-08T06:37:06.886-07:00Singed Hands & Secret Altars - A Vision <div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I was attending a worship night recently during which the Lord began to show me a vision of singed hands. I saw burn marks on the hands of people that had been worshiping at secret altars. They thought they could maintain secrecy as they lifted up their souls to other gods, but their unholy fire was burning their hands, concrete evidence of their destructive appetites and affections.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I immediately thought of Psalm 24:3 - 5:</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Who may ascend into the hill of the Lord?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Or who may stand in His holy place?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">He who has clean hands and a pure heart,</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Who has not lifted up his soul to an idol,</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Nor sworn deceitfully.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">He shall receive blessing from the Lord,</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And righteousness from the God of his salvation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; text-decoration: underline;"><b>Ascend The Hill</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What does it mean to ascend the hill of the Lord? Back in Biblical times, the tabernacle (and eventually the temple) was literally located upon a mount. People had to go <b><i>up</i></b> to Mt. Zion in order to worship. To this day, people still travel “up” into Jerusalem. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The Psalmist recognizes that in order to ascend the hill in worship, our hands and our souls must be clean, consecrated unto the Lord. Although whether or not hands are singed and burned did not affect one’s ability to physically climb a mountain, it <b><i>did</i></b> affect whether or not the Lord was able to receive the worship of the priest. According to the Levitical requirements (Leviticus 21), priests could not minister before the Lord with any open wounds. Their skin had to be rash and wound free in order to fulfill their tabernacle duties. A wounded priest could still eat the “holy food,” but he could not minister incense before the Lord.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In my vision, I saw that the unholy fire had grown out of control for some, and that fire was beginning to leap off the secret altars and burn family members and friends. Thus, the impact of their unholy, secret choices was hurting those around them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; text-decoration: underline;"><b>Jesus & Our Other Lovers</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Some years ago, I was attending a regional meeting for pastors and leaders from a certain denomination. While I was sitting in the gathering, I received an inner vision from the Lord: I saw a man opening up his billfold and a picture of Jesus was prominently displayed in a protective, transparent plastic covering. Suddenly, a line of pictures unfolded underneath the initial one of Jesus. They were photos of all of his other lovers! What?! In that moment, I understood that we have been trying to worship Jesus while also worshiping other things/people. The gentleman in my vision had a divided heart. He loved Jesus, but only a little more than he loved all of these other people and things. </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><span style="font-kerning: none;">And the fact that the Lord showed me this vision in the midst of a pastors’ gathering meant He was highlighting that His leaders were not impervious to harboring other lovers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">For my pastor and leader friends, we are called to be His bride, but we are <b><i>also</i></b> friends of the Bridegroom. How does it look when the friends of the Bridegroom are flirting with the betrothed bride? Can you imagine attending a wedding where the best man is continually winking and whispering “sweet nothings” in the bride’s ear….all while the groom watches? Or worse, what if the groomsmen had committed adultery with her? Ugh. That would horrible to behold.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">But what if we as leaders are committing spiritual adultery with His bride? How would I define spiritual adultery? When we’re more interested in making His bride love us as opposed to preparing her for our Bridegroom King. Or, when the bride’s opinions control our actions and decisions more than the words of our King, like a toxic, co-dependent relationship.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">“</span><span style="font-kerning: none;">The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom's voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">~ John the Baptist John 3:29</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">About a year and a half ago, the Lord began to reveal to me just how controlled I was by the opinions of others.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">In Christian-speak we call that the “fear of (wo)man.”</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">When I felt that I was disappointing someone, especially if that person held a position of authority in my life, I would experience anxiety.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">In His mercy, the Lord pulled back the curtain on my soul and I finally saw the ungodly shrine I had constructed to others’ opinions.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">I knew I needed to repent and find my identity in Him, and not in what others’ expected from me.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What are these secret altars? That’s up to each of us to discern from the Lord. Here are some common ones: sexual immorality, manipulation, fear of wo/man, control, ungodly traditions, racism, partisan spirit, mammon (love of money), prestige, entertainment, fame, gossip, addictions, etc. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Unholy fire will continue to consume and destroy us from the inside out. And unholy fire will eventually singe those around us, the ones we love the most. So do not wait. Please, do not wait.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Our beautiful King is inviting His bride away from our secret altars and into His burning heart. His love is a refiner’s fire that burns away all chaff and heals every wound.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And one last bit of wisdom, although our initial encounter needs to be between us and the Lord, we will need the body of Christ to help us on this journey. Our life in Christ was never meant to be a solo ride. Allow others into your freedom journey. I have a few good friends and colleagues (including my husband) who know my junk and know how to pray me through to freedom. I would not be who I am today without their consistent love, prayers, and sacrifice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Today there are new mercies. Today there is grace for repentance. Today there is redemption. Today there is freedom.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;">“</span><span style="font-kerning: none;">So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"> </span><span style="font-kerning: none;">John 8:36</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Matthew 15:</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> Then some Pharisees and teachers of the law came to Jesus from Jerusalem and asked, 2 “Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders? They don’t wash their hands before they eat!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">3 Jesus replied, “And why do you break the command of God for the sake of your tradition? 4 For God said, ‘Honor your father and mother’ and ‘Anyone who curses their father or mother is to be put to death.’ 5 But you say that if anyone declares that what might have been used to help their father or mother is ‘devoted to God,’ 6 they are not to ‘honor their father or mother’ with it. Thus you nullify the word of God for the sake of your tradition. 7 You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you:</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">8 “‘These people honor me with their lips,</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> but their hearts are far from me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">9 They worship me in vain;</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> their teachings are merely human rules.’”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">10 Jesus called the crowd to him and said, “Listen and understand. 11 What goes into someone’s mouth does not defile them, but what comes out of their mouth, that is what defiles them.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">12 Then the disciples came to him and asked, “Do you know that the Pharisees were offended when they heard this?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">13 He replied, “Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be pulled up by the roots. 14 Leave them; they are blind guides. If the blind lead the blind, both will fall into a pit.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">15 Peter said, “Explain the parable to us.”</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;">16 “Are you still so dull?” Jesus asked them. 17 “Don’t you see that whatever enters the mouth goes into the stomach and then out of the body? 18 But the things that come out of a person’s mouth come from the heart, and these defile them. 19 For out of the heart come evil thoughts—murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. 20 These are what defile a person; but eating with unwashed hands does not defile them.”</span></div>
TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-86715821951098460782018-09-27T13:58:00.002-07:002018-09-27T19:47:48.706-07:00Stopping for Deborah<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Today I stopped to pick up a pop at the gas station on the way to our prayer room. There was a lady outside the little convenience store, partially hidden by the ice machine, who was wearing a thin spaghetti strap tank and a pair of shorts and flip flops (unusual attire for a chilly autumn morning). She was very thin and her hair was disheveled and she kept flailing her arms and legs around, almost as if she was arguing with herself or with something unseen. Her motions were erratic enough that I assumed she was strung out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">My heart was drawn to her but I was not sure what to do, except quietly pray. I entered the store, grabbed my pop, stood in line to pay, looking back out the window to see if I could catch of glimpse of her still. Suddenly, this same woman entered the store and headed back to where I had grabbed my drink. After I paid, I went back to find her. She was pacing erratically back and forth, holding a large bag of popcorn and a fountain drink.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Are you okay? Can I help you with something?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">She immediately tried to cover her semi-exposed chest from my eyesight. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“I’m so embarrassed. I’m so embarrassed. [Mumbled name] sent me here like this. I feel so sick. I have a fever. I have a fever. I have money,” as she clung to a bill folded in her fist.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">She continued to move her head and body like she was strung out. Dark rings circled her glassy eyes that avoided eye contact, blue and grey bruises speckled her entire body with sadistic patches, and her right arm had a large, dark hole. Literally, a hole. Her body looked like it was slowly dying.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“How can I help you? Are you coming down from a drug right now? [Yep, I actually said that.] Can I pray for you? What is your name?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Yes, yes, please. I’m Deborah. No. I really <i>want</i> drugs right now.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I felt her head to see if she was feverish. Her skin was clammy, but not burning. I laid my hand on her shoulder and I prayed and declared healing for her as well as asked the Lord to intervene in her life and give her the help she needed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“How can I help you? Can I drive you somewhere? Can I take you to the Gospel Mission?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“No, no. I’m fine. Too much God there,” she mumbled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Thank you [for praying].”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I walked back to my van and thought about the new sweatshirt I was wearing. Father, should I give her this one? She obviously could use a shirt to help her feel more covered. As I was contemplating how best to help, I opened the van door and spotted a brand new, light-weight jacket my mom had given to me last week (did not fit her or me) and she wanted me to give it to someone at my church. I immediately shut the door and walked the jacket back into the store for Deborah.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Deborah, I have a jacket. Would you like it?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Yes, thank you.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">She put her food down on a shelf and I helped her put it on. Then, not sure what else to do, I turned to exit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Deborah called out to me, “Hey, what should I get if my stomach is not doing good?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“I’d get Vernor’s and some bread.” And with that, I walked out and returned to my van.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">With tears stinging my eyes, processing my encounter with Deborah and thinking about all the Deborahs out there, I drove to KHOP in silence. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Stopping for the one. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I’ve heard Heidi Baker say over and over again that we should stop for the one. Jesus Himself taught about the Good Shepherd who leaves the 99 to go after the one. And He modeled this truth over and over again in His earthly ministry by purposefully interacting with people whom the world had marginalized: the Samaritan woman at well, Zacchaeus, the woman with issue of blood, etc.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, I’m thinking about this in the context of Deborah, a woman whose bruised and tattered body shouted drug and probably some sort of physical and/or sexual abuse. So many things I should have said. But in the end, I said what I said. I know I can’t change that. I offered what I could in that unscripted moment: I offered her an encounter with our beautiful Savior. And a jacket. Not sure it was enough, but it was what I had.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b> Here’s what I’m processing - what if the one we go after does not want to be rescued? </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">God obviously knew I needed some encouragement, so a few hours into my time at KHOP, an older lady named Theresa walked into the prayer room. Her right arm was in a sling. She told me that she had come to give God thanks for helping her survive cancer and to ask Him to help her find freedom from drug and cigarette addictions. She wanted to live to be a blessing to her grandchildren. We prayed together, believing that the Lord was releasing freedom into her life. Then, at the end we prayed for her fractured shoulder and we both felt heat enter her shoulder. (Always a good sign!) She left our prayer time encouraged and uplifted, as did I.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I am thankful for my encounter with Deborah. I am growing. I am learning. Help me to tangibly love those around me, Father. Please help me not to judge. Help me to see everyone through Your perfect eyes of hope and love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And I am thankful for my encounter with Theresa. Her thankfulness reminded me of of the story of the leper in gospels who remembered to return and give thanks after Jesus healed him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And I am thankful for a beautiful Savior who freely offers new life to everyone: extravagant love offered to everyone, every day.</span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-25229003086747701072018-09-12T07:11:00.001-07:002018-09-12T10:50:14.558-07:00Choosing to Remember Corporate Pain: The Holocaust & Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">Back in the early 2000s, my husband and I had the opportunity to take a team of young adults to Auschwitz, one of the Nazi-run concentration camps in Poland. </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">We were serving in Poland on a mission trip and had asked our Polish pastor friends if we could use one of our “free” days to visit the camp.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">I remember one of the pastors incredulously asking us why we would want to visit that place.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">I responded that we needed our day to be “ruined” so that we would never forget.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Walking into Auschwitz was surreal, like strolling through a still graveyard, but not a graveyard with beautiful flowers and grass and trees. We were walking on gravel around sterile and empty, crumbling buildings intersected by an old train track. In my memory, everything seemed grey and beige, as if all color had been swallowed up by time and desolation. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Somehow the silence of the grounds was deafening - as if the buildings and very land were screaming of all the atrocities that had been committed there, though imperceptible to my physical ear, my heart could hear the cry.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I remember visiting a room that was filled with human hair; hair that had been shorn from mothers and fathers and children as if they were sheep before they were sent to the gas chamber. The smell was pungent - all those years later, even separated by a wall of glass, I could smell the hair…..hair that was probably intended to be used to make lamp shades or some other household or clothing items. I will never forget that smell. There was another room filled with the leftover suitcases from people that did not know they were never returning home. And another room with children’s crutches, toys, etc. Seeing any sort of article once belonging to a child sucker-punched my soul. My feelings were a toxic (but awakening) mixture of anger, disgust, and shock.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">My heart was seared with the understanding that this level of hatred is demonic. To hate someone for any reason is terrible and anti-Christ, but to hate someone and devise a system of torture and mass extermination for the simple reason of the color of their skin or their ethnic or religious background is pure evil.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">In May of 2015, I had the honor of visiting Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum in Israel.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">It was my first visit.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">So many things caught my eye - from the beautiful trees that were planted in honor of the “righteous gentiles” to the detailed stories and images of individuals who had died while trying to protect the Jews in Europe.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">However, this time I was also encountering the holocaust as a mom, and my experience was completely heart wrenching. I shed tears most of the time I was walking through and at times had to keep myself from sobbing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The stories of heroism and sacrifice captured my heart. Yet, none of these people wore a cape or had the ability to fly, like a Marvel or DC Comics superhero. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It was normal, everyday people that exhibited profound super hero-like resilience, courage, hope, and strength in the face of overwhelming odds.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I was so mesmerized by all of the stories and images, that I did not realize that my tour group had long ago reached the museum cafeteria and had just about finished their scheduled lunch. I believe it was our tour guide who came and found me and helped me rejoin our group. Every narrative was powerful and I felt this desire to honor every act of sacrifice and heroism with my full attention. I just could not rush through, even if it meant I was a little hungry for the rest of the day.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yad Vashem in 2015</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">There was one overwhelming feeling that burrowed deep into my spirit that day - I knew that I would do my part, no matter the cost, to protect the Jews from terrible persecution.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">A secondary (a bit more random) thought I had was that if I were to ever get a tattoo, I would choose a Jewish star so as to forever align myself with this people group that had experienced such a horrific genocide.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I remember reading Anne Frank’s Diary in 7th grade and deciding I would have been her friend. But would I have been her friend even if it meant the demise of my own family, just as Corrie ten Boom’s family paid the ultimate price for their courageous resistance against the Nazis in Holland in WWII? </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Would I have been someone who stood up against slavery in the early 1800s, or the Jim Crow laws of the 1900s, even if it brought persecution upon my family? </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Would I have been someone who publicly supported Jesus’ ministry, like Mary and Martha of Bethany, even if we would have become ostracized and blacklisted by the Pharisees?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I hope so. I truly do. But I can say without reservation that I choose to stand up and speak out now to the best of my ability with the platform God has granted me. Today I choose to stand for righteousness and justice. Today I choose obedience to Jesus over bowing to the fear of man. Today I choose to love. Today I choose to be a voice.</span></div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8761600428636104544.post-22538762690643676542018-09-05T10:56:00.000-07:002018-09-05T10:59:16.630-07:00Discussions on Civil Righteousness: The High Calling but Lowly Business of Peacemaking <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wall - a silent, public prayer meeting to end racism. www.civilrighteousness.org</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">A few years ago, I was leading worship during a pastors’ prayer luncheon for Jesus Loves Kzoo (an 11+ year old evangelistic unity movement in our region). </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">As I was sitting at the grand piano, I saw an internal vision of my husband and I laying down on our faces, with our arms outstretched in front of us and our legs stretched behind us.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">I saw our region’s spiritual topography laid out around us.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">Our hands were touching one group of people and our feet were touching another.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">In the vision, I saw people walking over our backs from one people group or church to another.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">We had become human bridges that connected ethnicities, people groups, and denominations.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14px;">In the vision I saw others laying prostrate to serve in the same way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In that moment I had a revelation of God’s beautiful strategy of peacemaking. He uses His children to serve as peacemakers, as bridge builders. However, it required us to go low….really low…..so low that it would feel like people were walking all over us. Talk about humbling! But if we could lay our lives down so that His Bride could be unified, then the world would acknowledge that the Father sent Jesus into the world. According to John 17:23, our stunning, supernatural unity would become a sign and a wonder that reveals Jesus as the Son of God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Jesus Himself is a powerful model for living as a peacemaker: He stretched out his arms and his legs on a wooden cross to become the ultimate human bridge, the ultimate intercessor, connecting a dying, lost, and, corrupted humanity with a loving Father. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called sons of God. Matthew 5:9</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This word “sons” is the Greek word “huios” [υἱοὶ] , meaning a mature son. This is the son that could conduct business <b><i>as</i></b> his father in the marketplace. It was the son who can wear the family signet ring with authority. When the Father announced Jesus at the Jordan River, He said, “This is my son (huios), whom I love, with him I am well pleased.” (Matthew 3:17) Peacemaking is what mature sons do. They destroy chaos and disunity with their peace. According to one definition at HELPS-Word Studies, a peacemaker “bravely declares God's terms which makes someone <i>whole.” </i>A peacemaker chooses to view someone through the lens of <i>imago dei</i>, one created in the image of God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">How do we access this peace? We learn in Galatians 4 that peace is a fruit of the Holy Spirit. In essence, we cannot release what we have not grown. King David the psalmist declares that we thrive as fruit-bearing trees when we daily meditate upon His Word. Peace is grown from a life rooted in His love, daily meditating on His Word (Ephesians 3, Psalm 1).</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In an age where people are often blinded with offense, division, and rage, it is this vision of serving as a peacemaker that continues to grip me. Let’s step into our calling as mature sons of God. Let's go low. Let’s be the bridge. </span></div>
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Civil Righteousness Pt. 3</div>
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TamiFlickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122242436487281153noreply@blogger.com0