California Dreamin'

Wow.  This month is seriously flying by.  It is so hard for me to believe that we're halfway through our last month of 'normal' life before everything gets crazy.  Its already crazy, really...  But the reality of the journey we're about to begin will get much more real when Matt is on the East Coast at Officer Development School and we're in Fort Collins, Colorado, living with my parents.  Its just weird even typing that out.  Yikes.

Anyway, you might have noticed a few changes to this blog.  The title, for one.  When I started writing a few years ago it was for a very specific purpose:  I wanted to reach out to and encourage the girls in our youth group throughout the week when I was not with them.  I wanted this to be a place on the world wide web that was safe for them to turn to and find truth and honesty.  Hence, the Hill for Girls.

Over the last couple of years I haven't written much - the pace of life and the ages of my kids seemed to distract me from making this a priority.  But now I find myself with lots to say, and I am realizing that the purpose and primary audience for this blog is changing...  I am no longer writing with teenage girls in mind.

I am writing with my husband in mind.

I am writing with family members all over the world in mind.

I am writing with the knowledge that these blog posts will be the primary connection point between me and many of the people I love.

Mostly, I am writing to chronicle the start of what I believe will be an epic journey.  We are walking into the unknown, confident that this is where God is calling us to go... But completely unaware of all that it will entail.  Seriously, I have no idea what my life will actually look like in 6 months.  That's why this is now called "Our Life Now."  Because that's all I know.  Life right now.

I don't know what life will look like in a month, or two months, or a year.  But I can tell you our story for now... And when things change - as they will all too often - this is where you can find the tidbits of information to stay somewhat in the loop.

So here's our current scoop for those of you who like the details.  I love details.  They seem to be few, far between, and ever changing.  But the ones I have, I cling to.

Matt's last day at our church is July 31st.  Strangely enough, that's also the exact day we have to be out of our condo.  Over the next 2 weeks we'll be loading most of our precious belongings into a storage unit near here.  We'll head to Illinois for a short break and some time together.

By mid August Matt will be headed to Rhode Island and the kids and I will be on our way to Colorado.  The kids are enrolled at Tavelli Elementary School in Fort Collins.  They already know who their teachers will be and have seen pictures online.  So sweet - they are excited.

Matt has schooling for 3 months.  Our first separation.  If we cross your mind, pray for us.

He graduates from Chaplain training on November 15th.  After that we are headed to 29 Palms, California.  Now before you get all excited thinking that we'll be living some sort of glamorous ocean-front life for 3 years, Google 29 Palms.  Its 3 hours from the ocean in the middle of the Mojave Desert.  Its probably 124 degrees there today.  Or something like that.

29 Palms is a Marine Air Ground Combat Training Center.  For those of you who are confused because Matt was commissioned in the Navy, the Marines do not have their own chaplains, so Navy chaplains are assigned to Marine bases as well.

The most exciting news, in my opinion, is that this first assignment is non-deployable.  That's right.  If we can survive the 3-4 month separation this fall we can count on at least a few years before another long separation is required.

Oh hallelujah.

So there it is.  Beyond that, I am learning to be patient and flexible.  Working on what it looks like truly believe that God has it in His hands.  Its funny how easy it is to believe that when your life is predictable and stable.  When you are thrust into the unknown it suddenly becomes a much more difficult exercise of faith...

For now, I am packing, cleaning, trying to have some fun with the kids, and spending precious time with the beautiful friends God has blessed me with here.  I will do my best to live in the moment; cherishing the time we have.

I am so grateful for this life we are living now.

Grateful for you, too...

Becoming a Navy Chaplain's Wife

Do you need to reread the title and make sure you're not seeing things?  It's not a typo.  On Friday, June 14th, Matt was commissioned as a Chaplain in the Navy.  Based off of most of the reactions we've received when telling people the news, I'm guessing this is a surprise to you.  That said, I thought I'd take a moment and tell you how we got here.

Here's our story...

About 4 years ago Matt and I were processing through a potential transition.  We talked about a lot of possibilites; going to another church, planting a church, going on staff with Campus Crusade, etc etc.  One afternoon Matt threw out the possibility of becoming a Chaplain.  I don't remember my exact response, but I am quite certain it was an emphatical no, probably emphasized with some intense and unkind choices in wording.  Needless to say, he never brought it up again.

At that point in my life it was an impossible and awful thought - my husband being away from me.  I was sick just thinking about what life would look like in that scenario.  I signed up to be a pastor's wife, not a chaplain's wife, after all.  I wanted to serve God and sacrifice my life - to a point.  Apparently chaplaincy was a little too far beyond that point.

Life moved forward, and we continued ministry in the context of a church setting.  We continued to talk about the possibility of doing something outside of the local church one day.  Our passions and personalities sometimes seem more wired for outreach-focused ministries...  But again, chaplaincy was never even a thought that crossed my mind.

Until one Sunday in November, that is.

It was Veteran's Day, November 11th, 2012.  Our church celebrated the occasion in typical fashion - honoring our veterans, displaying an American flag, and playing a slide show of all of those connected to our congregation who have served or are currently serving.  It was a nice service, but there was honestly nothing out of the ordinary that day.

Until God spoke.

Ok - I know that sounds potentially weird.  And kind of charismatic.  But I'm telling you - if you could have felt what I felt in that sudden and life-changing moment you'd say it that bluntly too...

No... I didn't actually hear an audible voice.  But out of no where I felt a weight on my chest - like my heart sunk right down to my toes.  Not in a bad, devastating way, but in a moment of sudden clarity and vision. It happened in an instant.  There was no question in my mind as to what God was speaking to me.

You are going to be a chaplain's wife.  

You are going to get over your selfish fears and stand next to your husband on this journey.  You are going to love on the young moms and lonely wives whose husband's are away.  You are going to wash their dishes, make them dinner, and babysit their kids.  You are going to erase the line and serve and sacrifice to the very end of yourself.

Matt wasn't sitting with me during this little revelation.  It was an interesting conversation when we were both finally home that afternoon.  I think I said something like this:

"Matt, this is going to sound weird.  But I felt like God was speaking straight to me today.  And I think He was telling me that you're supposed to become a chaplain."

As I remember it, Matt broke out into a wide smile that seemed to shout "Finally!"  I wouldn't say it was something he had been secretly longing for the last 4 years... but I do think it was something he had wished was at least an option on the table.  So from that point forward it was all about researching, and talking, and praying, and talking...  I think we processed together more in those first months that in our almost 10 years of marriage.

Each step of the way we sensed affirmation that this was what God was calling us to.  Our hearts kept growing in excitement for the life and ministry that this would provide.  When you sit down and think about it, it makes sense.  Matt's greatest joys in ministry to this point have been all of the things we've done to serve and love on our local communities.  He gets most excited when we're out just doing random acts of kindness as a youth group.  He loves giving people a tangible picture of the love of Jesus.

As a chaplain, he'll have the opportunity each and every day to serve.  He'll have the privilege of showing support and extending compassion to people coming from every different kind of life.  He'll come face to face with individuals whose beliefs are similar, and with those whose beliefs are completely different.  And he'll get to minister to and love on them all.

What a privilege.

I can honestly say that I'm excited.  Don't get me wrong - thoughts of deployment and separation are painful.  But the confidence I have in my God outweighs those fears.  I know He will be with me - I will never be alone.

So the next step in our journey begins.

The kids and I will head to Colorado to stay with my family while Matt is in Officer Training and Chaplain school.  By the new year we should be headed to our first destination.  We're hoping its overseas...  but we're willing to go wherever.

Now don't get me wrong - through all of this excitement there is a sadness in my heart about leaving this place we are now.  I am so grateful for this church and the many people who have come alongside us, encouraged us, and walked with us.  You are treasures to me, and I do not move forward lightly.  But just like I know and believe that God has called us and will go with us - I know that He is calling you and is standing next to you as well.

You're on an adventure, too.

And if there is any advice to give from what I've learned over this last year, it would be this:  that thing you've been saying "never" about?  Well, just don't be surprised if that's the very thing that causes your heart to sink down to your toes and your chest to burn with excitement one day.

Erase the line.  Follow Jesus wherever He leads.

It won't always be easy... but it will be worth it.

A Sliver

When Matt and I were first married I was totally into Jessica Simpson's reality show, "Newlyweds."  I was hooked.  Its kind of embarrassing to admit, but its the truth.  And when the show ended and Jessica and Nick split apart I was actually devastated.  I felt like I knew them; like we were old friends.  It was almost personal for me seeing their relationship crumble.  I even prayed that they would work it out and get back together.

Ridiculous, I know.

But they had lived a great portion of their lives on a very public stage and it made me feel like I deserved a say in the choices they made.  I knew better than they did what should be happening in their lives.  Or so I thought...

The reality is that I didn't actually know them at all.  What I saw of them was a mere sliver of the whole picture of their lives and personalities.  I'm also sure it was often a very distorted sliver, at that.  You know, dramatized by the show producers to make each episode interesting enough to capture the hearts of girls like me.  

How often do we do that, though?  How many times in a day or week do we capture a sliver of someone else's life and assume that we know the whole of them?

I think we do it daily.  We forget that our perspective is limited and that our sight is sometimes distorted, and we create an entire identity for someone based off of our small slivers of knowledge.

Its so easy to do.

And I don't think its entirely wrong.

It all depends on the heart attitude we bring and the way we analyze the sliver of knowledge we've received.  It all depends on the depth of our love for one another, and our desire to see each other as God sees us. 

You see, we have a choice every time we interact with someone or see them on some public forum.  We have a choice to believe the best in them, or to believe the worst in them.  We can take the sliver of knowledge we receive about them and use that to fill out a whole picture painted in grace and positivity... or we can use the sliver to create a canvas filled with negative assumptions and criticism.

Which perspective do you think God wants us to have?

That's a silly question, isn't it?  We know how He wants us to view each other.  All we need to do is turn to Philippians, or 1 Corinthians and we see clearly the way that God intended for us to interpret the slices of knowledge in our lives.

Is there any encouragement from belonging to Christ?  Any comfort from his love?  Any fellowship together in the Spirit?  Are your hearts tender and compassionate?  Then make me truly happy by agreeing wholeheartedly with each other, loving one another, and working together with one mind and purpose.  Don't be selfish; don't try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves.  Philippians 2:1-3

 You see, God has called us to approach the slivers we see of others with tenderness, compassion, love, humility and genuine esteem.  I think he made that clear because he knew it would be hard.

Its hard to see people in a positive light when the sliver of knowledge we have about them is altogether different from us.  Its hard to believe the best in someone when what we know of them reflects a personality or life perspective that differs greatly from ours.  Our inclination in those circumstances is to judge the sliver and use it as the basis for our estimation of the entire pie.

If I don't like the sliver I see in you, then your pie must be bad.

There is great danger in this attitude.  Why?  Well, what if you are wrong?

It is an incredibly painful thing to know that someone has seen a sliver of your life and consequently found your whole person lacking.  It hurts to know that your entire reputation could be defamed through one misinterpreted conversation or action.

Here's the deal:  Sometimes the sliver you will see of my life won't look all that appealing.  You might catch me on a cranky day, or see me when my heart and my mind are not on the same page.  Or you might see me at my very best and still wonder what on earth God was thinking when He wired me this way.

If you can, try to remember that my worst isn't my all, and my best isn't you.

We are all wading through life, trying to keep our heads afloat.  For those of us whose deepest desire is to run after Jesus, we are doing our best to model every sliver of our life after Him.  And guess what - sometimes we fail - every one of us!

What joy and encouragement could we find if we could run forward knowing that our brothers and sisters weren't looking at our individual slivers - good or bad - and judging the wholeness of our character?  How wonderful would it be to feel the grace and love of others who look at us and believe the best instead of the worst?

I'm praying that God can create that attitude in me...  And I'll be praying for you, too.  That He would give you HIS eyes to see the people around you as HE sees them.  That you would look to each other with love, graciousness, and humility.

I might not understand every sliver of who you are, but I can see that God is working you into one mighty fine pie.

You be your pie, and I'll be mine.  And together I think the canvas of the body of Christ will create a glorious and diverse representation of HIM to a world in desperate need.

All This Time

This week our 6 year old son, Caleb, had to have surgery.  It was a common procedure and we had plenty of reassurances from the doctor that everything would be fine.  I was anxious anyway, of course, and spent the days before the procedure fretting over how it would all go.  My greatest fear was for the moment when I would have to leave him to the care of the staff and watch him roll down the hall away from me.  

Now - what would you imagine my response to be in that moment?  

Did I pray over Caleb with Matt just as he was about to roll away?

Did I remind him that Jesus is always with him and that God was in control?

Was I silently praying in my heart as I smiled and kissed my sweet boy?

No.  No.  And. . . no.

What really happened?  Well, I was desperately trying not to sob while I kissed his forehead and told him I'd see him after his nap.  That's it.  Nothing spiritual whatsoever.

In fact, it wasn't until we got out to the waiting room that I realized I hadn't really even thought about God in those precious moments.  I suddenly felt this overwhelming guilt because we didn't even think to pray with him.  I thought about what a great testimony that could have been to the nurses, and automatically gave myself a mental thumbs down for missing out on such a great opportunity.

My son was going into surgery, and I had forgotten God. 

Awesome.  

Thankfully I've had a little time to think about it over the last few days, though, and I have found a different perspective to take. . .  so, here it goes:

Sometimes its easier to write deep, spiritual thoughts and analogies than it is to think them in the difficult moments of life.  

Sometimes its easier to encourage someone else walking through hardship with the truth than it is to lean in on that truth when you're the one walking through hardship.

Sometimes its nice to imagine how spiritual you want to be in a given circumstance until you are in that circumstance, and you realize that spiritual is probably the last word anyone would use to describe you.

When you get to the end of a particularly difficult season in your life - or even just a difficult day - and realize that your spirituality has suffered and your mind was seemingly everywhere but centered on Jesus, I want to encourage you with this wonderful truth: 

He is still there.

Even when we allow our circumstances to consume our hearts and minds, He is there.

Even when we forget to turn to Him - forget to cry out in moments of weakness or pain, He is there.

Even when we forget to pray with our little boy before he goes into surgery, God is right there with us - and with him.

There is not one moment of one day when He leaves us on our own or turns His back on us.  In the midst of our struggles it can be hard to sense His presence. . . but often, in the days and weeks that come after, we can turn back and see with amazing clarity the beauty of His constant presence with us.  We recognize His gentle hand guiding us, holding us, and protecting us. . .  We realize He was always there.

It isn't always easy to see, but we can rest in the confidence that its true.

Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
If I make my bed in the depths,
you are there. 

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast. 

Psalm 139:7-10

Don't just skim over those words because you've read them a thousand times.  Read them slowly, and with the firm conviction that they were actually written for you.  We need to have truths like this cemented into our brains.  We need them because we are fallen, frail human beings who will be constantly tricked into believing quite the opposite.  

These last couple days home with Caleb have been awesome.  I know that God was with us on Tuesday, and it is undeniable that He is here with us now.  

I may have forgotten to pray in that moment; but under no circumstance will my God ever forget about me.

And that, my friends, is truly awesome.

Alarming Grace

Sometimes God gives me some really great opportunities to live out what I talk about on this blog.  Usually, He sends a gentle reminder that everything I write is meant not just as a lesson for you but also as a lesson for me. . . those reminders usually come in the form of embarrassing and humbling situations.

Is that how God works these things out for you?

Well, on Monday I set the alarm off at church.  It was a gloriously ridiculous moment when I typed in my code and then completely forgot which button to push (I was looking for an "enter" button. . . I was supposed to push the "off" button. . . ).  Have you ever been in a situation like that?  Typically, my response is to completely freak out and become incapable of thinking a single rational thought.  Its very helpful.

Thankfully I did get the alarm off.  I felt quite relieved and maybe a little proud of myself for figuring it out.

Until 20 minutes later, when one of our elders walked into the youth room and asked who set the alarm off.  It was then that I realized that turning the alarm off is helpful, but not the only necessary step.  Once you turn the alarm off you have to go down to the office and answer the phone when the security company calls so that they know you aren't a thief or something. . . I didn't do that, of course, so the security people had to call an elder, who had to drive all the way to church and make sure I wasn't a thief.

I tell ya, it doesn't take much for me to feel like a complete heel.  That pretty much did it.

I was feeling so bad, in fact, that I had to literally choke back the tears while I finished my piano lesson.  I had messed up, done something stupid, and as a result completely ruined another person's night (well, that was my perspective in it at least. . . he didn't exactly say that).

And then the moment came when God spoke right into my embarrassment.  I mentioned how awful I was feeling to one of my piano students, and he looked right up at me and said, "Everyone makes mistakes."

Wow.

Why is it so easy for me to tell you that its ok to make mistakes, that having a dirty car is nothing to be ashamed about, but then so hard for me to believe the same is true for me?

You can come to Jesus just as you are, knowing that He died for you while you were a sinner - but I had better be perfect, because nothing less than perfect works for me. . . Ugh.

I have some shocking news for some of you.  Ready?

I'm a sinner, too.

Setting off the alarm at church wasn't a sin (well, maybe in the elder's perspective it was), but there are plenty of areas in my life where I still struggle to make the right choices.  I am so completely dependent on the forgiveness and grace that is offered through Christ Jesus.  I am desperate for the power of the Spirit to be at work in me, granting me the strength, courage, and discipline to walk like Jesus walked. . . to be like him.

We're in this thing together, you know.  So don't think for one second that I have it all together - but like it says up in the tagline under this blog's title, I am running after Jesus, and I am daily reaching out for him.

Lets run together! 

And then the next time I set off the alarm at church we can have a good giggle and remind ourselves that even when we mess things up and make mistakes - no matter what - Jesus is daily reaching out for us. . .

What glorious and beautiful news. . .

You could maybe even call it alarming grace. . . yes?

Dirty Cars Welcome

Sometimes Ali watches movies in the morning while I help get Caleb off to school.  This morning she choose an old standard that she hadn't seen in a while:  Boz.  If you're over 7 years old, you probably don't know who Boz is.  He's the friendly green bear who loves Jesus and helps 2 little kids make good choices.

I know I've seen this particular show a hundred times at least, but today as I was putzing around  (doing I have no idea what, hopefully something amazingly productive) one particular scene struck me as odd.  Maybe even a little irritating. . .

Let me set up the scene for you:


The children are playing in their grandparent's yard.  There is a giant green bear named Boz.  There is also a red pickup truck in the driveway covered in mud.  

The Grandfather joyfully exclaims, "Hi children!  Why don't you help me wash the truck?  We're going to church tonight and I want it to look really nice."

First, let's take a moment and gasp in horror together.

(gasp!)

Now, let me explain why I think gasping in horror together is appropriate and necessary after that scene.

I'd like to start by reading you this verse from Romans 8:

But God demonstrates His own love for us in this:  while we were STILL sinners, Christ died for us.

That is the beauty of the gospel of Christ!  Here we are - broken, messy, sinful people - and our holy, awesome God chose to send His only Son to die in our place so that through him we could be made clean! 

We didn't have to get clean before Jesus died for us.  He died for us while we were STILL dirty and stuck in our sin!!  This is the wonderful hope that we hold out to the world around us:  there is a way to find peace with God - to restore fellowship with our Maker - and it doesn't require us to get our act together first!

So what does this have to do with a dirty red pickup truck?

Well, when we say things like that ("better wash the truck before we go to church!"), it perpetuates this completely false notion that we have to get our stuff together before we go to church.  It makes us feel like we have to wear a mask to hide our sin and shame from the rest of the body of Christ.  We have to put on our fanciest clothes and act like nothing ever phases us because we've got it all together. . .

Now don't mistake me - there isn't anything wrong with dressing up for church or not bursting into dramatic tears every time someone asks us how we are.  But sometimes we are all too quick to let our outer "cleanliness" be a clever coverup for our inward dirt.

In Luke, when the Pharisees are mad at Jesus because he was hanging out with "dirty" people, Jesus responds this way:

It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.  I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.

Jesus knows we're dirty.  He knows we're sinners, and guess what?  He wants to hang out with us anyway. . .

If we're going to carry the dirty pickup truck analogy a little further, I think we could say that we are all dirty pickups, and that church is supposed to be the car wash.  We don't wash our cars before we go to the car wash, do we?  No, we take our dirty, gross cars just as they are, fully believing that the car wash will do a mighty work in getting them clean.

You don't need to be perfect to come to church.  You don't even have to dress up.

If I were in charge of the signage in our parking lot, I think I'd make a bunch of signs that say this:

Dirty cars welcome.  
Sinners welcome, too.

Come with an open heart, ready to be filled with the love of God.

Come with an open mind, ready to hear truth that can rock your world.

Come with a determined spirit, ready to put the truth you hear into action.

Come in your dirty car, and let the blood of Jesus wash you clean.

Come however you want. . .


just come.

There's a MONKEY in the choir!!

Have you ever noticed how embarrassing circumstances provide some seriously great material for spiritual analogies? Honestly, I should thank God daily for all of the dumb things I do and that happen to me because they result in some awesome "life lessons." Its been a long (L-O-N-G) time since I've posted anything, so I thought nothing could be more appropriate at this particular moment than reminding you of how ridiculous I am. In case you forgot. And then, of course, using my master weaving skills to turn my humiliation into a little nugget of spiritual wisdom for you to take away. . . =)

This particular story is set back in the fall of the year 2000. I was a music major at the University of Illinois' School of Music. I had transferred into the music program half-way through my sophomore year (because as an incoming freshman I was WAY to cool and rebellious to be a music major - more on that another day. . . ). As a result of this mid-year transfer - yes, I blame it completely on the transfer, not at all on my own lack of awareness - I did not realize that all music majors were supposed to be in an ensemble every semester.

I found out the following summer, and quickly signed up to try out for a choir in the fall.

Now - before I go on - there is something you need to know. I was a pianist. I felt fairly comfortable and confident in my ability to play the PIANO. I had absolutely ZERO confidence in my ability to sing. In high school I had a wonderfully informative choir director who graciously told me that "I was a great addition to a choir, but that I would never be a soloist." This is what they make the big money for: crushing little girls' dreams.

Anyway, auditioning for the choir at the School of Music was completely intimidating. There were basically two options: I would be placed in the University Chorus or the Women's Glee Club. The University Chorus was the "lower level" choir. The Glee Club consisted mostly of vocal music majors and non-music majors with amazing voices.

I was placed in the University Chorus. Not a huge surprise, mind you.

But there was a little problem. One of the classes I was taking had a pitifully low number of students. In fact, we had just enough students to keep the class going. When I found out that I had been placed in the University Chorus, and that the rehearsals conflicted with this class, I informed my TA that I would have to drop the class. He totally freaked out. If I dropped the class, the class would get canceled.

So, he approached the head of the vocal department and asked if they could make just one exception and let me be in the Glee Club so that his class wouldn't get canceled. The vocal guy decided that was just fine.

Do you know what that feels like? Having your dad pay the neighbor boy to take you to prom. Ugh.

Anyway, I show up to the first rehearsal feeling incredibly unworthy. I was pretty sure that someone would put a sign on my back that said I didn't belong and that I wasn't good enough.

Turns out the sign would have been completely unnecessary. I was given the wonderful opportunity to demonstrate my unworthiness all on my own. After getting all seated and comfortable the director informed us that we would each be taking a turn to stand and sing "My Country Tis of Thee" all by ourselves so that he could hear our voices and place us accordingly.

There is no way to describe how completely devastated I was. Girl after girl after girl arose to sing with such beauty, grace and ease. . . Their voices were amazing! They belonged here: I did not.

When it was my turn to sing I pretty much fell apart. I got about one note out, then started to laugh kinda awkwardly while I was singing. 60 girls stared at me like I was some kind of monkey. The director got angry. I felt like a complete loser.

Somehow I made it through that day. I have never felt more out of place and unworthy. At least it was official: everyone knew that I was somewhere I did not belong.

So sad, right? But enough about me. Lets talk about you.

Some of you have experienced these exact feelings in a very different setting. You have been made to feel completely unworthy, out of place, and undesirable not in a choir, but in a church.

You have this sinking feeling that you'll never be good enough.

You look around you at youth group and you see these girls who are so beautiful and graceful; girls who move through life with such ease. You feel awkward and out of place - kinda like a monkey in a choir.

If that is you, then brace yourself for some really, really, REALLY awesome news.

Every single one of those girls' dads payed the neighbor boy to take them to prom.

Ok, not really, but metaphorically speaking, you are no different than any one of them.

This is the beauty of the Christian life, girls! Every one of us has a Father who has declared that we are worthy - not because of our own goodness, but because of JESUS! Every single one of us falls short of the glory of God, and every single one of us has sin struggles that make us feel like we don't deserve a Savior.

But God's in charge, not us. And He has decided that there is no sin He cannot forgive; no stain He cannot wash clean; no girl He cannot redeem.

The body of Christ is not a selective choir - it is a hospital for sick, broken people.

If you walk into a youth room, or a sanctuary, or a conference center and feel a bit unworthy or out of place - welcome to the club, sweet girl!!! Not a one of us is there because we're worthy.

For those of you who are still feeling really bad for me, I've got some good news. It ended up being pretty fun to sing in the Women's Glee Club. Turns out singing with other girls who have amazing voices instilled a little confidence in me and helped me learn how to sing with greater grace, beauty, and ease. I also discovered that while my voice might be weaker than others, my ear is pretty functional. I didn't have the biggest vibrato, but I could tell when the altos were singing an F instead of an F#.

Girls - you will not all be lead singers in the worship band. You will not all lead a bible study or lead 6 friends to Christ.

We are all different and beautifully unique. The good news is that where you are weak, others are strong. . . where you are strong, others are weak. That is what makes God's family work. When we are all using our strengths, being mutually strengthened in our weaknesses, and giving God all the honor, glory and credit for the things we do well - then we experience life as it was meant to be lived!

The next time you are tempted to feel out of place or unworthy in the midst of the body of Christ, remember this: God has declared you worthy. So you just stand and sing your little heart out. . .

There are no monkeys in God's choir, after all. . .