I listen on, beyond the obtrusive, man-made noises that clutter my life, and I can hear birds singing and chirpily starting their day, I can hear my neighbor’s alpha rooster cuckooing his assertion of dominance over his harem of hens. There is the faintest sound of the wind rustling the trees in long, lazy waves as if the sounds of the ocean were carried by invisible hands nearly 200 miles just for me to enjoy this morning. It makes me feel connected to the earth as if it was a living creature and then, without warning, a memory of sitting on a soft lawn in Seattle a year ago washes over me.

Be still and know that I am God.

But I won’t get sidetracked today. I keep listening. And the further I listen outwardly, the more I hear inwardly. My heart beats a steady, slow rhythm. My lungs maintain a constant ebb and flow of air not unlike the sound of the wind in the trees. And then, right there, deep in the stillness of my soul. I can hear it.

Inside of me is a constant soundtrack of my faith. Today I’ve joined in the middle of a scripture recitation, “my heart is fixed; I will sing and give praise”. I know it is Psalm 108, but I have to look it up. Ah yes, I will awake early and praise the Lord among the people. I’ve read this dozens and dozens of times.

I don’t go through this listening exercise every morning, but I do it often enough to know the result is always the same. If I can pass by the human obstructions and the noise of this world, I can always hear the voice of my spirit and it is always speaking to me – well, ok, sometimes it is singing.

Facades are wonderful things. Yeah – I just said that, and I’ll say it again! Facades are wonderful things!

Facades can be used to protect us from hurtful and harmful situations. Facades can be used to protect other people from the hurtful and harmful things we’re thinking or feeling. Facades must be used in order to get through some of the more difficult times that we all face in life.

When my dad died, my #1 role was to support my mother. Of course I was grieving. Of course my heart and soul hurt. But my mom needed someone to be strong for her, and the only someone available was me. So, I put on my facade and dealt with the things that needed to be dealt with and cared for her as best I could. And then a few days later, when mom had gotten through the worst of her grief, I let my facade down slowly and started my own grieving process. If it hadn’t been for a good, strong facade, I couldn’t have been the support she needed.

As a leader in church, there are times when I have to deal with disciplinary issues – it just comes with the territory. I rely on my facade to let me still be a compassionate and judicious leader while waiting for the right moment to deal with a problem. Without that facade, I would be irrational, emotional and potentially hurtful – causing major problems when a softer word, spoken at a later time, could handle the situation more effectively.

I know we’ve all heard that facades are bad and that we should be doing everything we can to break down the facades in our lives. But really, the only facades that are bad are the ones that we don’t know about. Right about now you’re probably wondering ” How can you not know you have a facade?” Facades we don’t know about are the ones that occur when we are deceived about ourselves. James 1:22 says “But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves.” Galatians 6:7 “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” 1 John 1:8 “If we say that we have not sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.”

When you talk about prayer, but don’t pray – when you read about love but don’t show it to others – when you train others how to grow and develop, but you don’t practice what you teach – you are already deceived, you’re wearing a facade and you probably don’t even know it!

So yes – those facades are bad and need to be destroyed in our lives so that we can be all that we’re called to be. But just because one kind of facade is bad doesn’t mean they all are!

My 3-year old niece recently painted a picture for me and she asked “Is it pretty?” Well, to be honest, no it wasn’t – it was a great big mess and wasn’t pretty at all. Thank God for Aunt Facade!!!! I told her it was the prettiest painting I ever saw. I can do that in love with no conviction at all, because I know she wasn’t really asking about the painting, she was really asking “Do you love me” and that answer is YES all the way. But if I were to get hung up on YOU’VE GOT TO BE REAL ALL THE TIME NO MATTER WHAT, then she would have been hurt for no good reason at all.

So yes, I’ll say it one more again – facades are wonderful things!

Springtime in West Virginia is always wonderful. The snow has melted, the trees are bright green once again, flowers are in bloom everywhere. School is out and everyone’s looking forward to summer camp. That is until that fateful spring of 1980 – when the horror movie to end all horror movies was released on this unsuspecting child of 6. I think it was my aunt who took me to the cinema, knowing how much I had enjoyed the truly macabre classics like Amityville Horror and The Exorcist as well as some less critically acclaimed gems such as I Spit on Your Grave and Last House on the Left, I’m sure she thought that this would just be one more horror flick that she could enjoy with me. I don’t blame her – there’s no way she could have known that this movie would effect my summer and actually my whole life.

The film I’m speaking of is Friday the 13th. I don’t know if it was the movie itself, or the fact that I was about to head out to summer camp, or just the fact that I was now old enough to really comprehend the horror of watching people being brutally murdered. I remember crying and trying desperately to tear my eyes away as camp counselor after camp counselor was stalked, hunted and ultimately killed in increasingly more and more horrendous ways. But I was stuck there in my theater seat, unable to move, destined to watch every single frame, feel every single stab, and experience every single death along with those poor people.

Their screams of terror bore into my very soul. The spray of their blood haunted my dreams. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot brought shivers up my back. For YEARS after I saw the movie. I developed a fear of the dark that I never had before. All of a sudden, I went from a easy-going, laid-back kid, to a jumpy, fretful and worried kid. I just knew that someday the bad guy would get me and hack me up into little pieces too.

It’s many, many, many years later now and while I still like a good horror movie from time to time, I don’t watch those slash and dice flicks at all anymore. I’m not convinced that some horrible man is going to hunt me down and murder me anymore, but if I want to be perfectly honest, I still have that dream every once in a while and wake up with my adrenaline pumping and my heart racing.

As I think about this younger generation, I wonder what ghosts they’re going to grow up with. I’ve never seen a Saw movie, but you’re hard-pressed to find anyone between the ages of 20 and 30 who hasn’t seen at least the first one. What in the world must their dreams be like? As special effects and CGI gets more and more realistic, how damaging are these movies on our psyches?

I know that we all have nightmares from time to time, but if I can choose what to put into my imagination, then maybe it will help to control what comes out of it in the realm of dreams. So… if I could choose, I’ll choose nightmares filled with Smileys and Kittehs. You know, something I think I could take if it jumped me in a dark alley.

Of course not! I’m busy all the time, mostly doing things that I love with people whom I love. Overall, I’ve got a great life! So, why did I have that mental road-block? What made me resort to some lame, non-committal answer? It’s really been bothering me.

So I did the usual self-psych evaluation: Am I just trying to turn the attention off of me so that I don’t have to talk about myself or my life? No way. I’m just like anyone else, I love to talk about me. OK, am I just trying to avoid the typical long debate about my religious beliefs and how I’m “throwing my talents away”? Possibly… but no, I never mind having that debate. Plus, I actually tried and couldn’t think of anything outside of “I get up, I go to work, I go to church, I go to meetings, I work on music, I go to sleep”. Just a series of repetitive actions – wash, rinse, repeat.

Then it hit me – somewhere along the way, I had stopped enjoying my life! I got so caught up in the repetitive actions of day to day living that the reasons behind why I do what I do stopped being in the forefront of my mind and heart. WOW!

I’ve heard a lot of teaching about familiarity and how being too familiar with a person or thing can cause you to lose respect or take them for granted, but I’ve never thought about that applying to my day to day life as well. I’ve become so accustomed to being “busy” that I’ve started sleepwalking through my life, passing from one duty to the next like a zombie endlessly in search of brains. I’ve been taking my own blessed and happy and stressed and miserable life for granted! I’ve been washing, rinsing and repeating, completely forgetting that the whole point was to have some nice, clean hair that could be styled and worn out on the town with my man! (I’m a fan of the metaphor.)

So, the trick is to break the cycle in my mind, without necessarily breaking the cycle in actions and deeds, because stuff still has to get done. The sun still rises every day and sets every night, on and on without end. And our lives have to continue on through the duties and requirements of day to day living, but I’m learning, still and always, how to better enjoy the journey.

I’ve been feeling a LOT of pressure lately, it just seems like there’s too much to do in the time allotted. Too many places to be, too many people to please, too many deadlines to meet. It’s times like these that I’m really, really thankful that I’ve got an incredible team around me who are always asking “What can I do to help? Give me some of your burden and I’ll carry it for you.”

My morning worship time has been dead lately. I mean, it feels like every word I say just falls flat to the floor. It’s been hard to make myself get to my scheduled prayer time punctually and it’s been harder not to leave early. One of the reasons I love to spend time in worship is that I can “feel” God’s presence – but not lately. It’s times like these that I’m really, really thankful that my relationship with God is not based on emotions, but on His Word, which promises that He never leaves me or forsakes me – no matter how I feel.

So… in times like these – what are you really, really thankful for?

So, after some soul searching, I’ve come to realize my problem: I’m trying too hard to make this blog have some monumental purpose. Every post should tackle some major issue in the church or in the Christian life or be full of revelation and knowledge or whatever. To be completely real about it – the thought of that just makes me want to shut the blog down permanently. It begins to feel like work to me – or, even worse, I could start to feel like it was some “high calling” and that I must preach my message into the internet abyss…

[OK - had to delete a huge rant here - but I'm back now...]

So, my goal now is to get back to the whole reason I started this blog in the first place – to celebrate the good, the bad and the ugly in each of us. Because I believe, with all my heart, that the biggest problem that Christianity is facing in the United States today, is that Christians are afraid to admit we are flawed, that we can be wrong, that we have sin in our lives, that sometimes bad things happen to good people and we don’t know why, that we don’t have all the answers, and that the ONLY thing that separates us from “the world” is the grace of God poured out through His Son, Jesus.

Can we please get real?

My heart worn down with fear and pain

Eroded years of guilt and blame

Covered face and blushing shame

I am my own worst critic

The more I have the more I want

Not satisfied with more than enough

Grabbing, groping for more dumb stuff

I am my own whore monger

My heart beats dead beneath my rib

Silent, numb since I was a kid

Can’t move from this place it’s hid

I am my own dread monster

But one day I saw the truth of my life and knew

Just knew

That my failures are not the end and my

Frailty

Does not define me

Or constrain me

In my weakness His strength is perfect

Realizing my inequity

Exposing truth for all to see

Bound no more, I walk free

Jesus, my Deliverer

John 15:13

I’m no love guru, but I do know one thing: love prefers others.

However, the reality is that most of us prefer ourselves over others. That’s why we don’t pay our tithes or give to charities or people in need – instead we say “I need/deserve that money more than they do!” That’s why we don’t automatically hold a door open or offer to help carry something heavy for a stranger – instead we say “I’m in a hurry!” or “I don’t know them, it’s not my job to help!” That’s why we look at people who are having problems in their lives and say “That’s so sad!” and then never give them another thought.

We practice in our everyday lives exactly the opposite of what we’re COMMANDED to do. That’s right, COMMANDED. It’s not a suggestion or some helpful tip for living a happier, fuller life. And not only did He command us love, He also equipped us to love.

So, really, having love isn’t the problem. The problem seems (to me at least) to be our own pride and selfishness. It’s like having a water hose with several crimps in it. There’s nothing wrong with the water. There’s not even anything wrong with the water pressure to force the water through the hose.

We know what love is. We know what love looks like. We know all the  “how to”s of love. But when it matters, often the love just doesn’t flow. We are rude and pushy and bossy and mean because we WANT what we want WHEN we want it which is RIGHT NOW! Or we’re insensitive and manipulative and intimidating because we want everything to go exactly how we want it to go. Or we’re insincere and angry when someone else gets praised or promoted because we want to be acknowledged for our hard work! Or we are happy when something bad happens to someone who did us wrong because they deserve it for hurting our feelings.

So, for me, this season of focusing in on the Love of God has been all about humility and healing, remembering that the universe doesn’t revolve around me, and that if it wasn’t for the grace of God in my life, I would be in a sad, sad state of affairs.

“Your love is better than ice cream

Better than anything else that I’ve tried

Your love is better than chocolate

Everyone here knows how to cry”

The way we love God is very individual. Only you and God know “how much” you love Him. I believe that it’s a continuous discovery of love – I’m continually learning about His love for me, and in turn learning how to love Him more and more. I hope that there’s never a time when I’ve learned and perfected the “how much” – because that would mean there’s no more to discover.

About 2 years ago, in a time of private worship, I had the horrible realization that I loved chocolate more than I loved God. I was talking with God and telling Him how much I loved Him, and I heard so strong in my heart “If you love me so much, then why do you turn to chocolate when you’re upset instead of coming to me?” I cried and cried because I knew the reason was that I found more immediate comfort in chocolate than I did in prayer.

You have to understand, I’ve always thought of myself as the “Mary Magdeline” who loved much because she was forgiven much. Back then, I honestly thought I had arrived where loving God was concerned. There was no possible way I could ever love Him more! Except, the more time I spend with Him, the more I realize that I have more learn, more to grow and, yes, more to love

I was curious about the origin of the Easter Bunny, so now I have a new blog post!

The Easter Bunny or Easter Hare got his start much like good old Kris Kringle – in Germany – or more specifically in the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation. And just like Santa Claus, the whole point was to take an extremely important and foundational event in the Christian faith, slap a fuzzy round face on it and turn it into a reason to stay home from church to “spend time with you family”. (Oh yeah, political suicide going on here.)

Why a rabbit? What’s with the eggs?

You guessed it – it’s really all about sex. Or more specificall, fertility. The Easter Bunny hops along in spring randomly spreading eggs everywhere it goes.

Bunny. Spring. Eggs. You can’t get more fertile than this.

And what’s with all this celebration of fertility? You guessed it – when you trace it all back down – we’re actually celebrating the Greek goddess of “spring-like fertility” named Eostra.

The worship of this goddess was so ingrained in the Greek culture (along with the two days of feasting and celebration that occurred every spring) that the Roman Catholic church decided to adopt some of it’s customs, very slightly change the name and associate it with the resurrection of Christ.

And you’ll love this – the traditional Easter dress every one of us girls had to wear as children -yep, that tradition was started by the cult who worshiped Eostra – during the festivals, they had the maidens dress all in white like the goddess as a symbol of untapped fertility. (Cold shiver)

And why a chocolate bunny?

Actually, that one I get – everything is better when it’s made of chocolate.

Just a little more about the crazy egg thing…

It seems that it is traditional for Catholics to dye their Easter Eggs red – to symbolize the blood of Christ. And that part of the reason there was such an abundance of eggs for Easter was due to the fact that eggs cannot be eaten during lent. However, early Protestants (who do not partake of lent) didn’t stress over the quantity or redness of their eggs and decided that they liked the variety of colors used by the religiously indifferent to symbolize the many colors and varieties of flowers that begin to bloom in spring. Personally, I prefer the Paws kits that have stickers so you can make your eggs have the crazy eyes.

For those who don't know what "the crazy eyes" means...

– — – — – — – — – — – — – — – — – — – — – — – — –

Now, I could take this to a serious place – and tie the fertility theme back to the blood of Christ

because it was the shedding of His blood that birthed the New Testament church

and the real whole point of Easter is to remember not only His broken body, shed blood and death on the cross

but that Jesus died for the express purpose of being raised up and born again from death back into life

Why? So that we, who are already dead because of sin, can be born again into that same life with Christ

For God so loved the world, He gave His only begotten Son

so that whosoever believes in Him will not perish by have everlasting life.

But, my faithful readers know me by now, and know I’m not gonna go to the serious place. Instead, I’ll leave you with this final reason why bunnies should NOT be associated with Easter: