God speaks to me through music. I love it when I hear a song and it causes my soul to listen. There are times that I feel like my heart almost stops…like my very next breath depends on the Truth of the lyrics combined with the rise and fall of the melody.

A.W. Tozer once said, “God does it and man sings it. God speaks and a hymn is the musical echo of His voice.”

Much of my journey back to Christ is because He spoke to me through a song. Maybe it’s because a song doesn’t criticize…it doesn’t judge who I am or where I have been. It just is. I can probably list at least a hundred songs that have really influenced me but rather than start at the beginning of that list, I will start with the most recent.

I have had Chris Tomlin’s Christmas album, Glory in the Highest, for several weeks now and I have listened to it many times. (If you enjoy Christmas music and worship music, this is absolutely the album for you.) Looking back, it seems like every time I started to play it at work, my phone rang or someone walked in my office. It also seems like when I played it in the car, my daughter chose that exact moment to start a conversation on the content of scarecrow stuffing. Don’t get me wrong, I love talking to my daughter but it is difficult to focus on a song when you are trying to explain that, no, scarecrows are not necessarily stuffed with only scary stuff. (Secretly, I am wondering if the scarecrow is stuffed with the federal government’s FY10 budget and spending plan; that’s about the scariest thing I am aware of. Probably not…but I digress.)

So tonight, I didn’t just listen to the Tomlin album…I heard the Tomlin album. Track number 11, “Winter Snow” featuring Audrey Assad, to be specific. My heart paused as if Audrey were singing this to me and only me. This is an amazing, amazing song performed by someone with the most beautiful, bluesy, inspired-by-God voice that I have heard in a long time. I am her newest fan. If you have never heard the song, I invite you to listen to it here. (Just click the title, “Winter Snow.”)

The concept of the song is so simple. Here are some of the words:


I almost feel funny writing anything after those words. Clearly, the song is describes all of the possible ways that Jesus could have appeared to us. He could have been bigger and stronger than any of the biggest or strongest things that we can imagine. But he appeared as a baby. In the middle of the night. To a virgin. In a stable.

That’s not exactly what I would call a grand entrance. But how beautiful is that thought? How peaceful is the middle of a clear night when the stars are as bright as the moon? Doesn’t the thought of that night give you hope? Doesn’t it make you feel as if God hand delivered His Son to us….for us?

Could you imagine if Jesus and His Army of Angels rode into Earth on a thunderbolt and cast fire and lightening at people to prove a point?

Yeah. Me either.

Think about snow. It is hard to think about a lot of snow having grown up in warm North Carolina. But even I can remember the first flake falling, then the second, then a few more and a few more until the grass started turning white and slowly disappearing. The snow slowly taking over the dead, brown grass until it all was a beautiful blanket of white.

One. Piece. At. A. Time.

That’s how Christ did it. Maybe that’s how we should do it.
We all have those friends. The ones who I refer to as the “project friends.” Like a new flower bed, or painting the bathroom walls, we make this friend our next project. Our ultimate goal is introducing her Christ and maybe getting her to join our church. We go in with the gusto! We call her daily; quote scripture when we can; talk about the activities of the church; invite her to church; show her our happiness; bake cakes; add her to the prayer list; counsel her when we disagree with her actions; worry when she never accepts our invitation to church; and on and on.

Whether we realize it or not, we may not be helping our “project friend” as much as we think we are.

Maybe we should approach her “quiet, soft and slow,” like Jesus did and like the song suggests.

Rather than going in with the gusto, maybe we should go in with love. We may not even need to say anything. Sometimes, just being there for someone and listening to her is enough to grab her attention. “Finally!!” she is thinking. “Here is someone who will just listen to me and not judge me.”

I know what she is thinking because I was the “project friend” for a lot of people throughout my life. The ones who truly made an impact on my life were not the ones who came to me with their Christian hat on and their Bible in their hands. The ones who made a difference to me came with the heart of Jesus. The ones who were easy and slow. The ones who just wanted to love me and not judge me.

One day, I will tell these people who they were to me. One or two of them are reading this blog right now.

In the meantime, I will witness to people the way they did and the way Jesus did. I pray that God helps me with this because even now, I am so quick to speak and quick to judge. I want come in quiet and soft and slow. I want to see Jesus cover the dead with His perfect white.

I bet you know a lot of Christians. I go to church every Sunday morning with a building full of Christians.


Or not.

Sure, the building might be full of people. But is the building full of Christians?

What does it mean to be a Christian? We could get all technical and have an educated discussion regarding the etymology of the word and attempt to break down the Hebrew, Greek and Islamic roots but let’s keep it simple. To be a Christian is to be a follower of Christ.

Rewind about 1975 years.

“The Disciples were called Christians first at Antioch,” Acts 11:26.

The disciples were called Christians because they followed Christ. Not because they went to church three times a week. Not because they had a fish magnet on the back of their minivan. Not because they sang in the choir. And especially not because they claimed to be Christians.

People who were not followers of Christ recognized a difference in the disciples and their followers. The most important thing to pick up on is that people who were not Christians noticed a difference.

Now, fast-forward about 1975 years.

Am I walking so closely with God that people notice a difference in me? Do people notice a difference in you? Or are you walking so closely with your church-mates that no one can see you?

That is tough. Going to church is a necessity. It is where we are fed the Truth. However, it is only a piece of the Christian walk. If we only surround ourselves with fellow church members, then we are missing out on making an impression on someone else. We aren’t spreading the good news of Christ. We aren’t reaching out to people who need encouragement. We aren’t being real Christians.

If you and I lived 1975 years ago, would the term Christian even exist? At what point did the definition become based on our claims rather than our actions?

I want people to see Christ in me. I want to breathe Him; I want to exude Him; I want to be obsessed with Him.

The truth of the matter is that most Christians say they want those things. But what is your experience? I can tell you that my experience has not always been so positive. God revealed Himself to me despite of those people. He is bigger than anything I can name; He is more loving than I can imagine. He gave His only Son to die for me so that I could have eternal life. Because of that gift, I want to be the best Christian that I can be while I am here. Of course I will make mistakes. Of course I will miss opportunities. But I want my life story to be about Him. I want to be willing to look beyond the four walls of my church to see someone like the woman who Jesus saw at the well. I want to be willing to talk to someone outside of my comfort zone.

I have been working on this post for days. I don’t want to be misunderstood so I keep trying to get it right. I think that God gave me this topic because it is so near and dear to my heart. The bottom line is that Christians can do more damage than good when they forget who they are without Christ and when they start examining the faith of other Christians. The continuous motion of reaching out, loving on someone and pouring Christ into people should monopolize our time to the point where there is no time to judge each other.

If we live by that philosophy, then we can truly be called Christians.

I have something that I would like to share with you all and I have been typing for over a week.  I can't get it right.  Usually, the words just flow and it comes together so beautifully...but not with this topic.  I think, I pray, I type, I edit and then, I realize that the words don't work.  The end product is not what I am trying to say.  The last thing I want to do is write something that does not glorify God. 

So rather than force something that maybe God is still putting together for me, I will say a prayer. 
*************************************************************************
Father, thank you for loving me.  I cannot understand why you would choose to send your Son to die a horrible death on the cross to save my sins but I will praise you for your mercy as long as I live.  I surely didn't deserve it but you loved me anyway.   Thank you for giving me the opportunity to reach out to people through this blog and in my everyday life.  I believe that you have laid a topic on my heart that you want me to write about.  Please guide my heart and my mind to relay this topic in a way that will be a blessing to you. 

Help me to walk with you more closely each day,
Help me to never get stuck inside religion but to get totally lost in you.
Help me to love the unloveable.
Help me to never measure someone against the Christian measuring stick.
Help me to remember that church is not a building.
Help me not to live in a box. 
Help me to see that the Body of Christ consists of more people than the few Christians I personally know.
Help my light to shine.
Help me to see people the way you see them.
Help me to remember the times that I fell down and more importantly, that is was You who picked me up.

Amen

"If your cup is empty, you have nothing to offer when someone else needs a drink." I heard this quote the other day and it reminded me of this blog. My previous post about the Alabaster Jar described the woman at Jesus' feet pouring out her best for Him. One thing we didn't discuss is how her best got into the Jar in the first place. If my life and my body is my Alabaster Jar, I can only pour out what I put in.

This week has been the longest, most exhausting week I have had in a long time. I couldn't understand why I was barely making it through the day at work just to come home and barely make it to bed. I was struggling. As I was lying in bed, drifting between sleep and awake, I thought of that scripture in Psalms 46:10, "Be still and know that I am God." Suddenly, I was wide awake. At what point this week had I been...still?

(Talk amongst yourselves while I laugh out loud for a minute.)

Ok, I'm back. No wonder I was exhausted. There was literally something going on every evening after working all day. Kelsey and I weren't getting home until 8:00 pm or later. I can only imagine that if I was tired, her little 9-year-old body was tired too.

Even though most of my evening activities were centered on church, I was still drained. I can see it now. “Sorry Jesus, but my Jar is empty.” I hope I never have to mutter those words.

I am learning that I need time at home and even more importantly, I need quiet time at home. I need to be able to pray and sit still long enough to hear what God is telling me. Prayer is a two-way conversation and if I talk the whole time, or squeeze prayer time in between bath time and making dinner, I will miss what He is telling me. This is how I replenish my Jar.

Additionally, our spare-time activities replenish our Jar.

We are inundated with media; constantly stimulated by text messages, emails, chat rooms, social networking sites, television and radio. Have you ever realized that each of these items can keep you 100% occupied for a really long time without ever having face-to-face interaction with another human being?

These items can also steal your quiet time. They will sneak in when you least expect it; they will chew up your quiet time and spit it out at the end of the day. Equally as destructive, these items become what you put in your Alabaster Jar.

Philippians 4: 8-9 comes to my mind. Paul says that we should think on whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy. I want my activities to honor Him. I want my thoughts, my music, the books I read, the conversations I have, the clothes I wear (yes, mom…I even said the clothes I wear) to honor Him.

If I am still before God and if I honor Him in my activities, then I believe that my Alabaster Jar will be filled with what pleases Him. It will also be so full that I can share with people that I come in contact with…without completely draining it.

After all, you can’t pour out something that isn’t there and you can’t share something that you don’t have.

There are people in this world who have photographic memories. They can tell you what they were doing, who they were with, why they were there and what they were wearing on just about any given day. I have a friend who remembers her third birthday...and she is 50! That is crazy!

I am not one of those people. I can't even remember what I ate for dinner last night. My memories are not vivid videos that replay in my mind with digitally enhanced color and a Dolby Digital soundtrack. They are more like snapshots; still images that represent the highlight of that particular memory.

Snap. Making biscuits with my Nanny in her kitchen.

Snap. Picking sandspur weeds out of our front yard with my mom.

Snap. Preschool. I could never remember that zero came before one. Susan did, but she's a doctor now so I guess that explains a lot.

Snap. Riding in the back seat of the car and looking out the window. I remember seeing my reflection in the window as clear as a mirror.  My sister wasn't born yet so I must have been only 3 or 4 years old. I was looking at myself as if I were someone else and I remember thinking, "This is how people see me. This is who I am." It was almost like an out-of-body experience. I saw me for who I really was and I think that might have been my first glimpse into the greatness of God or better yet, the smallness of me.

I was raised in church. Literally. We went to church a lot; it was like we were always there. I was a third-generation member of a non-denominational church. All of my friends, all of my family on both sides and all of my parents’ friends went to this church. We stuck together. After all, great things were happening. People were having visions of the other side; there was spiritual warfare but we were winning; it was the mid-night cry and we were God’s remnant. The message was clear: God is coming back and you better be ready because there will be judgment.

I was terrified of God. I could just see Him tearing through the eastern sky on the day of His return; fire and brimstone raining down from the sky. I think this is why I was so scared of thunderstorms as a kid.

So, at 3 or 4 years old, I already feared God. However there was something different about that day driving down the road and staring at my reflection. I caught a glimpse of God in a different light.

Snap. God is watching me. He sees me…little Erin…and it's peaceful.