Weekend of Music

This weekend was a weekend of music. Friday night we went to Crossroads Winery to hear the Weekend Project. I love hearing Brian Coleman's power voice belting out "The Thrill is Gone." And of course, Tim Hill slipped in "I Don't Need Another Thrill" a cover of Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers. By the very last song I couldn't stand it anymore and went and danced to Kiss' "I Want to Rock and Roll" and "Bony Maronie". (How can you just sit there and drink wine during that much great music?) Luckily Courtney and Kylie joined in so I wasn't completely solo. (Alas, I mostly have chair-dancing-poser friends. Only Sheila has an excuse. Her foot is broken.)

Saturday, we went to the Bath House Cultural Center to hear Parallel Play. The folk duo--which I first heard at the Mokah Lounge--is made up of "Jeremy Drake (master of the 5 string guitar, keeper of the zombie sound and a great tactician) and Jason Miears (the 3 sting banjo elitist, inventor of the “truck hit your face” move and the squatter of lost worlds)" --per their Facebook Fan page. I didn't know I was a fan of folk music until I heard Parallel Play, but then again, I never heard a folk Ode to Zombies before either so...hmmm.

Sunday night was Second Sunday Sing--except that we did it on the fourth Sunday because of a scheduling thing. There is something amazing about sitting and singing worship in a circle with friends.

What a wonderful weekend. All about the music.

Workday for ArtLoveMagic

Today Justin, Mike, Melody, Mario and I rolled up our sleeves and decided to once and for all finish the tasking for the 501C3 application for ArtLoveMagic.

John grilled fajitas for us and we fired up our laptops, started at the beginning, and tackled the tasks one by one. Most of the prep work had already been done, it was simply a matter of taking the 80% to the 100%.

At the end of the day we burned it all to a DVD and gave it to Mario who is going to finish the budgets tonight and send everything off to the Foundation Group.

It was an important day for ArtLoveMagic. One step closer to who they are going to be.

Why it matters...Part 2

My famous theologian friend and I had a conversation this week via e-mail. (And I won't name him because then he'll be taken all out of context or I'll have interpreted something in my own head and he'll get blamed for it.)

Part of my battle over the past few months has been in sifting through all I've been taught and what in my heart feels true. Because no matter how hard you try, you can't make head knowledge trump heart knowledge. I don't know who first said it, but the saying goes "Logic provokes thought. Emotion produces action." In other words, when head knowledge contradicts heart knowledge, heart wins.

So I'm stuck with this heart knowledge of a beautiful, powerful God who is love juxtaposed against doctrinal teaching of unbelievers being tortured in hell for all of eternity. And I can't reconcile it.

My theologian friend encouraged me not to be too quick to completely dismiss a belief in hell because almost all religions have some version of it. He also said that my real question didn't actually center on hell, but on who it is for.

He also said that in the tradition I was brought up in we are taught that people go to hell for unbelief--a core tenet that is actually central to Islam. This didn't become official church doctrine until about the third or fourth century when the church became a state institution.

The next part I have to quote, because it was a new thought for me. "Hell is an eternal state of unrepentance and unforgiveness. It is the consequence of our own choice of refusing to reconcile with our neighbor, or hating our neighbor into eternity, or showing our hatred of God through how we treat others. In Jesus' "theology" you cannot love God and hate your neighbor, or vice-versa.

"Hell is really the consequence of personally refusing to love the way in which the Great Commandment prompts us. It has nothing to do with belief (cognitive). After all, "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?' Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!'" (Mt. 7:21-23 NIV)

Belief without unconditional love is hypocritical and worthy of the highest condemnation."

That doctrine is much easier for me to believe on a heart level. The idea that we aren't judged on our head knowledge but on how we love.

If God is love (1Jn 4:8)and we reject love--well, the consequences to that are worth grappling with. (In fact, as I consider it, it occurs to me that many live in that "hell on earth" now.) Moreover, it is a choice that anyone can make. We all have conscience.

Of course, my friend--wonderful person that he is--also let me know: "the bottom line is that many have wrestled for millennia with what you're wrestling with"...It's about eternal "retributive justice," do you pay the penalty for what you've done and ultimately do you pay an eternal penalty? But of course God forgives, and Scripture is clear that God will forgive us the minute we "repent" and ask for it. Many Christian theolgians have said in effect hell is reserved only for those who absolutely choose it of their own free will, once they are aware of the options. (Lucifer did, according to the story.)

The wonderful part of my friend's explanation is that you don't have to "convince" anyone of love. You just love.

And that, is most definitely a heart thing.

Why it matters...Part 1

:::Image by Christie Knubel Holmes. Cover art from Sixpence None the Richer's Album Beautiful Mess.

I've written a bit about grappling with my theology lately. I had someone ask me why it matters.

Other than I feel a driving need in my soul to understand, I think the bigger issue is that how you view God impacts how you view the world and how you view your part in it. For example, while an atheist can pretty much set his or her own morality, a Hindu fears what will happen in the next life. And though it may not seem like a big deal on the surface, the impact of a person's theology is that it affects those he interacts with.

For example, when I was fourteen, I went to a Baptist encampment where an evangelist delivered a scathing sermon. I was moved. I walked an aisle. I feared for my salvation. We all did. Never mind that the reason I was at the camp in the first place was because I already had a deep love for Jesus.

Years later at my Baptist college, that same evangelist was invited to speak at chapel. He was introduced as having saved tens of thousands of young people. However I knew from my previous experience that the reason his "hit count" was so high is because he used a great deal of emotional manipulation. (I wonder how much the hit count would decrease if all the "re-saves" were subtracted?)

If you believe a person is going to hell to be tortured for eternity, then I suppose manipulation is okay. In fact, the Crusades, the Inquisition, bait/switch tactics and a host of other things committed in the name of God are passible because you are "saving" people from eternal damnation.

Except that they are not okay.

Jesus didn't model that.

He healed people. He served people. He said things like "blessed are the meek." He loved people others wouldn't touch. People who couldn't give Him anything in return. He asked us to forgive way more than I can even multiply in my head, and my guess is if He expects me to do that He can probably do that times infinity.

My mental construct to resolve the disconnect has always been to "disbelieve in hell." If you believe that all men are being saved by a beautiful plan that God orchestrated to restore us to who we were supposed to be, then you treat them as if they are worthy of it.

Recently, Calvinism has sparked a ton of debate among some of my friends. A core tenet of Calvinism is that God only chose only "some" to become saved. (The Presbyterian denomination of which I am a member has Calvinist roots.) As I talked this over with John the other night he made a very compelling statement:

I refuse to worship a god who created some men only to be tortured for eternity.

I agree.

Nothing in Christ's life models that. You don't leave Heaven and live on Earth for 33 years if you don't care passionately for those you are leaving Heaven for.

Not only that, but the economics of scale are overwhelming. Almost one billion Muslims. Over one billion Chinese. If we believe in our hearts that all men are equal, we simply can't believe that some were created to be "not elect". Isn't that the type of doctrine that produced Apartheid? That produced Auschwitz? The idea of the inequality of men?

What we believe really does matter. It isn't just random doctrine. It makes a difference in what we do. In our actions.

That is why I've been wrestling so much lately with the doctrine of hell.

Much to my relief I had a friend influence my thinking on that this week. Still more for me to process, but I think I'm finally winding up in a place where the New Testament scriptures and my deep belief in the love of God for absolutely every man can balance.

But it would also be a long post. Thus the reason this is only "part 1."

On meditation...

When I was young, prayer for me was about asking God for stuff. And honestly, I think that is an okay place to start because it begins the conversation.

You need stuff. God is a provider. And, since He is actually interested in us, He listens and responds.

But it is only the beginning of the relationship. And we learn the first time we are sixteen and ask God for a cherry red 66 Mustang and He gives us our dad's four-door Ford Fairmont without a/c that God isn't Santa Claus.

After awhile, as our hearts become more like His, we start to notice things outside of ourselves. We pray for the things that move us. Like the lady in the parking lot whose dilapidated car barely starts. Or a friend we know is struggling. Or when there is a global tragedy that just seems too big to process.

And even now in my forties, I still actively practice both types of prayer. But in the past few years, I've discovered something new...the practice of simply being with God.

It started with Father Keating's book, Open Heart, Open Mind. I was walking through Half Price Books and saw the book on the shelf. I flipped it open and started reading from the middle, then bought it and took it home. The thing is that "just being" with God is difficult. Our minds are active. They chase the grocery list. They wonder who played that guy in that film. They suddenly remember that they forgot to buy a Father's Day card.

Father Keating's book teaches techniques to help quiet the mind. But mostly, the thing that resonated with me was his very lovely description of God. A God who wanted to be with us. Who didn't mind if we fell asleep in His arms. One who didn't measure our worth by how well we kept our thoughts focused on Him, but who loved us and waited for us to bring our attention back to Him.

The practice of meditation is actually just that...a practice. There are many ways to do it. You can choose a scripture and think on it. You can focus on gratitude. You can simply sit open and quiet before God in His presence.

There is much more I want to write on this, but I should probably step away from the computer and get ready for work. More at another time...

The Tomato Incident

As part of our spring backyard makeover, I planted herbs and a few veggies in the side bed.

And daily I watched my beautiful tomatoes grow. I even took this photo so I could blog it.

But yesterday, tragically...

THE SQUIRRELS ATE MY TOMATOES!!!

All of them. All that were left were the peels still attached to the vine.

Stupid squirrels. Stick to the feeder.

Where is John's paintgun?

Simple Vegan | Roasted Vegetable Soup

This is such a favorite and so simple. This recipe serves two and can be made in the toaster oven. (Multiply and throw it in your big oven if you want more.)

Line the baking pan for your toaster oven with foil and drizzle with olive oil.

Slice 2-3 tomatoes in half and place sliced side down. Place two carrots beside them and 2-3 whole cloves of garlic (peeled). Bake for one hour at 350 degrees.

At the end of the hour dump the roasted vegetables (juice and all) in the blender with a can of vegetable broth and pulse.

Mmmmm. Soup's on.

Weekend in Texhoma

Sunny-the-City-Girl and Carl-the-Famous-Theologian invited us up for the weekend. The cool thing about Lake Texhoma is that it has a sandy beach. We stayed in the guest house, played cards, cooked in the chiminea, played in the lake, went to the art gallery in Madill and had a wonderful time.

Both Saturday and Sunday morning I got to meditate on the beach. Serenity and joy at its finest.

Saturday evening, we even got to make dinner on a racklette. (Racklette - n. really interesting gadget for tabletop cooking.) After an evening swim, we passed Sunny and Carl's neighbors--Bob and Sherri--who invited us up to sit around their firepit. Carl brought the cake he made down and a bottle of Amaretto. (Carl is an amazing cook.) The evening of conversation outside with cake and spirts was wonderful. Sherri introduced us to her Bengal cats. (Did you know that Bengals have pelts instead of fur? They have leopard markings.) Sherri also loaned me a very fun little book called Conversations with my Cat that I read on the way home.

Of course, no trip to Carl and Sunny's would be complete without a Sunday AM breakfast stop at the Enos Mall--sort of a grocery store, bait & tackle, restaurant, gas station in Enos, Oklahoma. Their pancakes are truly great.

Now, back at home, everything is about laundry and cooking. Yet, I stand amazed at the power of water, sun, and laughter with friends to realign the soul.

On finally "getting there"

:::Image is the cover illustration by Kinuko Craft.

I had an interesting conversation with a friend the other day. They had plans that were going to make things financially stable, then a couple of outlier events messed up the plan.

Here's the thing. They did everything right.

They did their research. They were conservative in their estimates. They made no frivolous purchases.

My friend sighed, "Don't you ever get to finally make things work? Why does God just allow one thing to happen after the other?"

And I get how she feels. I'm not sure why we have this expectation that life should be any other way. Is it because we spent twelve years in school with a carrot called "graduation" then went to college for another carrot called "the career" then spent more time for a carrot called "the bigger salary?" All the while being told that if we studied hard and kept our nose to the grindstone we would "get there?" (BTW, they have this track for your personal life too. Be a good girl. Dress pretty. Buy a zillion beauty products. Get the handsome husband, 2-story house and perfect kids. Live happily ever after.) Doesn't the structure create unrealistic expecations?

CS Lewis wrote a science fiction book called, Perelandra. Perelandra is a parallel universe equal to Eden. Perfect world. Only two people on it. The world is mostly water with islands that float. Having no tectonic foundations, they are in a constant state of motion. Sometimes the islands break apart and sometimes they come back together. There is one place on the planet where the land is fixed and there is only one rule by the diety of that universe: Don't spend the night on the fixed land or build anything on it.

The older I get, the more I realize that we live in a world where the land is not fixed. Yeah, we can attempt to build on the "fixed land" but that typically doesn't turn out.

The better path seems to be to emotionally, mentally and spiritually frame ourselves to live on islands that float.

Simple Vegan | Basil Hummus, Falafel Salad with Tahini Dressing, and Crispy Pita

Tonight wound up being the perfect summer dinner and completely vegan. Here goes:

Falafel Salad & Tahini Dressing
This is a made up recipe that starts with Rachel Ray's Greek Salad minus the dressing.

1) Cut up two heads of romaine, two Roma tomatoes, 1 cucumber, 1/2 a red onion (thin), and add a handful of sliced olives and a handful of sliced pepperocinis. Toss the salad.

2) Buy a package of falafel mix and prepare according to directions--which is pretty much adding water, letting sit for 10 minutes, making balls and frying them.

3) Make the tahini dressing by putting 2T tahini in a food processor with a handful of parsley, clove of garlic, juice of 1 lime, 1/4 c olive oil and 1/2 c water. Run the food processor (or blender) until smooth.

Basil Hummus & Crispy Pita
1 can chickpeas (garbanzos), drained
2 T olive oil
handful of basil (or not and you have just regular hummus)
1 clove garlic
juice of 1 lime
black pepper to taste

Mix all in food processor until smooth and serve with pita chips. Note that you can make your own pita chips by cutting flour tortillas into triangles with a pizza cutter and baking crisp in a 400 degree oven. (I decided to make mine late last night when it was cooler, then started watching TV and forgot about them until I could smell them burning. We ran to Tom Thumb this afternoon for the store bought variety.)

It was really delicious, and luckily I have leftovers which fit nicely in my bento box.
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Update: This so rocks! George Edwards actually made this recipe last night and sent me the photos. He added paprika to the hummus to give it a color contrast with the pita chips.

Totally made my day, George!

The Secrets to Long Life

Tonight John and I were invited to a suite at the Ranger game. Play was delayed in the 5th inning because of a technical problem with the lights during which time I met Dottie.

This photo doesn't communicate the energy that Dottie emanates. She is absolutely vibrant. She is also 99.

When I had the opportunity, I asked the secret to a long life. Dottie offered the following advice.

1) It's all about your attitude. Life is what you make it.
2) Follow the golden rule.
3) Drink red wine. (She said it makes you shine.)
4) Play poker, dance, have interests.
5) Be a people person.
6) Don't take yourself so seriously. Be able to laugh.

As Dottie and I talked, she was engaging and bright. She was also current. Her stories were about now and not the past.

When I grow up, I want to be Dottie.

Texas Storms

Wednesday night it stormed. BIG TIME.

Tornado sirens went off, lightning cracked and tree limbs went flying down the street like tumbleweeds. John and I gathered the dogs and hung out in a closet during the worst of it. (John spotted the funnel cloud.) We lost electricity.

After the worst of it was past--we sat and played cards by candlelight. John taught me how to play Euker. (Later, we decided to drive around and assess the damage and wound up at Nancy and Peter's for wine,stories, and iPhone charging.)

When we went home, the electricity was still off. (Lynette-the-Cowgirl saved our life with a sound machine that runs on batteries!!!) When the storms kicked up again in the night, our dog, Lucky, ran into the closet. (Poor girl, she's terrified of thunder and I guess realized from our earlier action that it was a safe place.)

In the morning, Nancy gave me a wakeup call and I did my hair and makeup at Courtney-the-Acoustician's. I'm happy to have friends who live close and share!

Getting Ready for Summer

Summers in Texas are not only hot. They are expensive.

Tuesday night, John and I set out our "list."

We changed the AC filter, vacuumed the coils on the refrigerators, unplugged all unnecessary equipment and cleaned a few light fixtures. Last week, we switched to lighter bedding and broke out the fans.

We also selected our electric plan (with 20% wind energy) and locked in a rate for the next year.

Now, we can get to the fun parts. Where's the sunscreen?

Ahhh...a normal Wednesday morning

Now that weddingpalooza is over and my travel schedule has slowed down, Nancy and I got to spend a normal Wednesday morning at Bics.

And yes, that is an insane amount of cream to put in ones coffee.

And yes, our waitress, Pat, made fun of Nancy for it.

As she does every Wednesday morning.

I love it.

Riding in Cars with Grooms

I just saw this video this morning that Daniel's brother, Ben, posted. If you are curious to events leading up to the wedding, check this out.

Simple Vegan | Tabouleh and Sweet Sauteed Cherry Tomatoes

I rediscovered a favorite cookbook this weekend called The Three Bowl Cookbook by David Scott and Tom Pappas. The recipes are from the Zen Mountain Center and the book is sprinkled with stories. The recipes are also divided into Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter selections based on eating what is in season.

Tonight I made two recipes from the book--slightly modified to be vegan and to my taste.

Tabouleh

1.5 cups Bulgur Wheat
1.5 cups boiling water
(Mix with the wheat and refrigerate for 30 min to an hour)
Then mix in 1/2 t of salt, juice of 1 lemon, 2 T olive oil, 1 cucumber (peeled & seeded), 1/4 red onion, 1/2 c chopped herbs (basil, mint, parsley), 1/2 c pitted and halved kalamata olives.


Sweet Sauteed Cherry Tomatoes

This was really easy. I heated 1/4 c olive oil in a deep skilled then threw in washed (but dry) cherry tomatoes and 2 T of sugar. Put the lid on and jiggled every once in awhile for two minutes. (Transfer to a serving dish and serve immediately.)

I mixed the tabouleh and went to yoga class. Then came back and threw everything together.

Fast and delicious!

Andy, the Ringbearer

Saturday was Nancy-the-Insightful's son, Daniel's wedding. And, I absolutely loved it that John's and my role was care and transportation of Andy-the-Ringbearer.

Andy is potentially one of the happiest, easy-going dogs I've ever met. He was great in the car on the two-hour drive, riding contently in the back of the HHR with John, Dan, Courtney and I. (For followers of this blog, you might want to know that Andy is Carmen-the-Princess's the brother.)

And, he was thrilled to find that our destination was where the rest of his family was.

Andy carried out his duty as ringbearer like a trooper and even smiled during the pictures.

The painting turned out well. It was really fun to watch Daniel and Elizabeth make the "J."

Most of all, it was lovely to get to be part of such a wonderful event in my friend, Nancy's life, and that all of our circle of friends got to be part.

Of course, probably my favorite moment was when Daniel and Elizabeth walked down the aisle to beautiful music, then there was a scratch and suddenly Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up" broke out.

Liz "Rick Rolled" the wedding. Hilarious!

What is truth?

Yeah. I know. This is the stuff philosophers thrive on. Yet, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.

If you live long enough, you’ll come to points in the road where core beliefs get shaken. You can believe things about your God, about yourself, about the world you live in—that are patently false. (Though you may not know it yet.)

I’ve been discouraged by the number of things I was taught as a kid—especially on hard metal chairs in Sunday school—that haven’t proved to be accurate. (The Bible says that Noah took more than two of each kind of animal on the ark.) I’ve been discouraged by things that weren’t implicitly taught, but that were implied. (If you are good and follow Jesus you will have a perfect life.) I’ve been discouraged by illusions shattered. (People I thought loved me who didn’t.)

I’m confused by all the different belief systems in the Christian community. (I was taught by one teacher as a kid that Catholics couldn’t possibly get into heaven because they pray to Mary. Confusing since they actually met the criteria that denomination laid out to get there—belief in Jesus.)

The experience has left me skeptical. Not cynical. Open actually. That maybe there is more than what we know. More than we can figure out and document.

Once upon a time humans thought the world was flat. A rather big thing to discover it wasn’t. The thing is, we have no way of knowing how much flat world programming exists in ourselves. I do believe there are ideas we hold precious that simply aren’t right. (Spend too much time on that thought and it is intellectual chaos.)

But if head knowledge is such shaky ground, I’ve been pondering lately if there are things written on our souls that our hearts know to be true. If there are common truths that bridge cultural and religious chasms...

Yesterday afternoon, I was walking with a group of design professionals through the Guthrie Theatre in Minneapolis. And while the architecture struck each of us differently in our reactions to the aesthetic, I was overwhelmed by the amount of money spent not just on the architecture but the operations (scene shops, wardrobe, actors, etc) for a place in which we tell stories.

Based on where we spend our money (the movie industry gets measured in billions), we value stories. And my thought is that the affinity for stories is such a common human trait across culture, geography and time that they are more significant than simple escapism. And I wonder if there are echoes in the broad themes of conflict, love, sacrifice, disappointment, rage, laughter, sorrow, etc. that are mirrors of a bigger theme written on our soul?

I have to be honest and say that I’ve been grappling with Christian theology lately. Please understand that I’ve believed…no, that’s the wrong word…I’ve known Jesus since I was a little girl. I’ve witnessed miracles, I’ve seen visions of things I had no way of knowing that came to pass, I’ve spoken in tongues (don’t freak out)…I believe He is “not the God of the dead but of the living” because He is very real to me in my experience.

But I see this huge disconnect between the One who raised the dead and said “you will do greater things than this” and this intellectual exercise that passes as Christianity.

Does it really come down to believing the right stuff? If I embrace the Virgin of Guadalupe, am I out? If I don’t pick the right millennial view is God disappointed? Because I have to say, I don’t know. I can’t figure it out.

This I do know. I want a hero with all the trimmings. The one who rides up on the white horse and rescues the city when all hope is lost. When despair sets in because it looks like evil is going to win the day.

I’ve never heard a story where the hero grabs the girl from the railroad tracks and pauses to see what she thinks. Or for that matter if she knows his name. He doesn’t stop to query her sexual orientation or denominational background. She’s in trouble. Trouble she can’t get out of. The man with the black moustache tricked her and now she is tied to the tracks unable to save herself. She can’t even scream for help. And panic is making her choke on the gag in her mouth.

Quite frankly, if I’m the girl watching the train speed toward me, I don’t believe I’m going to make it. I resign myself to my fate. Even if I see the horse, I can’t believe it. How could he ever make it in time?

We all know how the story is supposed to end. The hero gets there in time. The heroine kisses the hero. He is everything the evil guy is not. He sweeps her on the horse and they ride away. They live happily ever after and the evil guy winds up in jail. Though our experience doesn’t prove it out, we know deep inside us that this is how the story is supposed to go. We understand the power of the happy ending.

I don’t know how to quantify my theology, but I do know this. I want the big epic hero Jesus who gave His life to save the world then kicked death’s ass. This anemic version who requires we fill out the right forms and check a box can't be right. It’s too dissatisfying of a story.

The Wedding Painting

This weekend, Nancy-the-Insightful's son, Daniel is getting married to Elizabeth. And as it turns out, Daniel and Elizabeth had an unusual request.

Rather than a unity candle, they wanted to stand in front of a painting. Something they could complete with two strokes of a paintbrush that would capture the moment as they begin their new family. Then, they asked me to paint it.

I wish I could say I had a wonderful idea when asked, then ran out to translate a perfect mental image to canvas, but instead there was fear and trepidation. After all, what if they didn't like it? Or if it turned out goofy? Or if they weren't happy with the colors? (Yada. Yada.)

Luckily, Sunny-the-City-Girl (who also happens to be an artist) stayed with me this weekend and gave me the following advice: "paint the canvas tan and let God paint the red." Heartened by this instruction, I went to Michael's Sunday to pick out a canvas, set up my workspace and began to paint. I layered the tans and the browns to give texture and was fairly happy with it. Then I put a bit of red on the brush, hovered over the painting and made a few lightly placed strokes. Then some bigger ones. Then more.

Okay, clearly this is some sort of thing that only works for Sunny because the red went all pink and just like when you are cutting your moustache and one side isn't even so you shorten it then the other side isn't even then you shorten that, then eventually you look like Hitler and have to shave the whole thing off...Not that this has ever happened to anyone I am married to (grin). I wound up starting over. The colors went too cold so I dipped a couple of rose leaves into copper paint and played with that. The strokes over the leaf prints provided that little Talavera folk art thing that is my painting style.

Last night at 8pm, I took it all to Nancy's house because I was afraid I would keep tweaking and lose the definition. Her's and Ben's responses were encouraging. My advice to Daniel is for he and Elizabeth to practice on newspaper. Black paint on a white satin dress would not be advisable.

Sandwich Sunday

One of the things I love about my church is the ability it has to prioritize mission over tradition. This Sunday, rather than normal worship and teaching, we made sandwiches. (Over 1200).

Crosspointe partners to pour resources into projects that others are doing in the community. For example, rather than employing a youth pastor, Crosspointe partners with Young Life. Rather than starting a benevolence ministry, we work with CCA and Metrocrest. This week, we poured our love and energy into the Soup Mobile which feeds homeless people in Dallas, daily.

For all the years I spent listening to churches frustrated in trying to support programs that were underfunded and understaffed, I have to say that I like this model much better. Belonging to a group of people--a SWAT team so to speak--who can mobilize to not only accomplish ministry goals in the community, but also support and encourage the people who run those ministries is very satisfying.

Sunday morning, we didn't make sandwiches instead of having church. We were the church. Making sandwiches.