I've been playing an old hymn on repeat. My younger children don't understand the 18th century lyrics, but we've worshiped wholeheartedly to "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing". Something in that song is reaching something in us, so I did a little digging on the story behind it.

Robert Robinson lost his father as a young boy in the 1700's. He had to grow up fast, start working young, and ran the streets of London as a gangster. Robinson convinced his gang to heckle a Methodist gathering when he was 17.

A certain worship song spurs me to write the call to worship on some weeks. On other weeks, a passage of Scripture, a conversation or current events inspire me to write. This week, I listened to a song on repeat. I knew I’d write about it, but I didn’t know what I’d write or why.

The song title, “Less of Me” reminded me of a conversation John the Baptist had with his disciples after Jesus started baptizing. John’s faithful followers were becoming indignant that Jesus was a rising, baptizing public figure. John, however, was overjoyed the Messiah had been revealed.

Our church just hosted a two-day women’s event. God’s presence was so palpable among us the second day that I choked up as I shared the idea He had given me the night before. The ladies were sitting at tables spread with abundance—gifts, flowers, hot drinks, snacks, beautiful decorations. They graciously received the idea I shared before our final time of worship.

We had an AMAZING two days together! We laughed. We cried. We worshiped. We learned. We danced. We ate and ate and ate. We drew near to God and each other. It was an altogether holy, wonderful weekend. Here are a few clips to capture the two days.

Cory Asbury released the award-winning song, “Reckless Love”, in 2017 and was thrust into the crosshair of Christian critics. The worship leader was accused of misrepresenting God as “reckless”. He took advantage of the spotlight to talk more about God’s love. “…His love bankrupted heaven for you. His love doesn’t consider Himself first… He doesn’t wonder what He’ll gain or lose by putting Himself out there. He simply gives Himself away on the off-chance that one of us might look back at Him and offer ourselves in return.”

I’ve been a self-taught weightlifter for ten years. I purchased a secondhand set of adjustable dumbbells a few years ago when caring for a very young child and one with extra needs made it harder to get to the gym. Those dumbbells finally broke beyond repair last year, so I joined an Olympic weightlifting gym. I had never learned the Olympic lifts but quickly fell in love with the sport. I decided to go all in and even got a pair of lifting shoes for Christmas. I could feel strength building in my entire body and see the evidence of muscle definition. Gaining strength has always been a way for me to honor God with the body He’s entrusted me with.

I was excited to get back to the gym after our recent trip to America. My son with a nervous system disability has gone into a state of burnout, however, and I am currently his 24 hour co-regulator.

My son’s nervous system disability is preventing him from participating in typical 7-year old things right now. Even the most basic parts of daily life are too taxing right now.

I sent our hairstylist an SOS message this week, promising to comb out the matted mess on the back of his head before we came for a “no grooming required” cut. She gave me a speedy trim while my son warmed up to the environment with headphones on

A poor subject asked Alexander the Great for a small financial gift. Alexander gave him a large city. When the poor benefactor insisted the gift too great, Alexander responded, “The business is not what thou are fit to receive, but what it becometh me to give.”

I read this account in a Biblical commentary, paralleling the extravagant gift to God’s lavish supply of wisdom for those who ask. (James 1:5.) Upon further investigation, I learned Alexander the Great most often gave for self-glorification. The large gifts were cruel burdens for those not equipped to bear the responsibility.

Have you ever sat down for “quiet time” with the Lord, but your thoughts were too loud? Or determined to “get back on track” after wandering off the narrow path but didn’t know how to find it? A relationship with God can feel intangible and hard to grasp, at the current speed of life.

Recently, after a whole lot of life left my head spinning, I sat in front of my Bible blankly. I wondered if ancient words would land on present turmoil. I turned to the Psalms, knowing the authors poured out unfiltered emotions and messy life in those pages. I found relief in Psalm 105. The first five verses actioned specific ways to turn toward God while life rocked, rolled and roared.

I’m writing this 10,000 feet above ground, from an airplane somewhere between Tennessee and Texas. My youngest sons and I have been away from “home” for almost four weeks to renew necessary documents for life abroad.

When we arrived a few weeks ago, the twangy accents caught me off guard. My kids are being raised in a country with 12 national languages, so they just assumed people were speaking other languages!

Please join us on Sunday at 9am @ Vista Nova High Pinelands. We’re not a weird church. We don’t use “churchy” words, and we come from every age, stage, ethnicity and ability.

We put on name tags so we don’t feel awkward when we forget someone’s name right after they’ve introduced themselves. And we gather for good coffee, encouraging teaching, and a place for the kids to learn about Jesus in a way that’s relevant to them.

I publicly lamented in last week’s call to worship. I disclosed (what feels like) longsuffering with our family’s visas and ability to travel. I was astounded by the feedback - a good indicator I’d lost hope. So many were praying, encouraging, and holding up my arms when I was too tired to do it myself. (Read Exodus 17:11-13.)

That same day… The same day you responded, prayed, and hoped when I could not… Everything changed. Our immigraion lawyer responded with two clear options:

I sent an overwhelmed email to our immigration lawyer this week. We’ve lived a decade of life and produced a new generation since we’ve visited our family in America - mostly because of government documentation issues. My email felt like an SOS signal… “Have we been forgotten?” “Are we stuck not belonging anywhere forever?”

Not everyone struggles with visa stamps in their passports, but we’ve all some form of SOS from our wildernesses. God’s people were exilec for many years - their history, homes, families and place of worship were ruthlessly destroyed. They cried SOS too. “Zion says, ‘The Lord has abandoned me: The Lord has forgotten me!” (Isaiah 49:14)

Several years ago, I spent an afternoon with a pastor's wife who was far ahead of me in experience and wisdom. She casually shared, "I've decided I'm never going to eat candy again." It totally blew my mind, and I don't even like candy. I'd never heard someone, just another normal person like me, pre-decide for freedom like that. I don't think she was in bondage to M&M's, but this woman had goals for her future. She could taste and see that the smallest measure of freedom had a lot more to offer than the finest confection.

Has someone ever tried to encourage you in a hard time with a well-meaning, "God won't give you more than you can handle"? The motives are pure, but the theology doesn't line up.

Wednesday was more than my family could handle this week.

The most anticipated day of the year has come and gone, leaving precious memories, overflowing garbage bins, and my kids asking how many days until next Christmas. Is there a such thing as a "wonder hangover" after the Christmas magic has peaked?

Just imagine the morning after the very first Christmas. An incredibly sore, new mom picks up the King of Kings in soiled swaddling cloth.

In 1843, a French priest commissioned renowned poet, Placide Cappeau, to write a poem to commemorate the renovations to the church organ. Cappeau penned the poem "Midnight, Christians". At the priest's request, he worked with distinguished composer, Adolphe Adam, to turn his poem into a song called “Christmas Carol". Today, we know it as the song, "O Holy Night".

The carol was instantly popular but quickly banned from French liturgy when church leadership found out Cappeau was an atheist and Adam was Jewish. The French wouldn't let the song go, however, and it lived in their homes when the church wouldn't sing it.

Last week, I marched into my kitchen and announced, "I will not utter a SINGLE grumble or complaint for an entire month. I won't think one. I won't say one. There's no venting. There's only gratitude." My husband hadn't had his first sip of coffee yet. His eyebrows rose to his hairline as he wondered what had his wife riled up so early in the morning.

It didn't feel early in the morning for me. I'd been up for a long time with a sick child. Beyond that, seismic concern for my son with special needs was rising.

It's almost 11pm on Thursday night. I've been trying to write this call to worship all week. There were some curveballs. But more than unforeseen events, my body was just not on board. I woke up daily with an unexplainable sense of panic and a mind that refused to stay engaged. I couldn't sleep, and, when I did, it seemed to only make me feel more tired. Overwhelm was a storm cloud above my head, following me wherever I went.

I tried to understand what was going on while I drove to the gym one morning…

If you saw last week's Call to Worship, you might have picked up that I was going into the weekend overwhelmed and undone, capsized by life's chaos. I was also heading into a weekend away for the women's Alpha course I've been leading. It was just seven women, a house in the mountains, and an exorbitant amount of snacks.

I think I ate three weeks of calories in two days and caught up on a year's worth of laughter. Peace-filled silence and open skies recalibrated my soul's rhythms. Time stood still. My nervous system healed.