Liturgy for a Pandemic

According to Wikipedia “liturgy represents a communal response to, and participation in, the sacred through actively reflecting praise, thanksgiving, supplication or repentance.” I love that definition.

Unless you live under a rock you know that globally we’re coming to grips with COVID-19. There’s concern, uncertainty, fear. People have differences of opinion. Are we over-reacting, under-reacting? The situation is tense, and far from over.

I’ve read articles, watched news briefings, seen all of the emotions represented on social media. Lots of people have lots to say. I don’t need to add my opinion to the mix. Instead, I would like to offer a liturgy. 

Whether you are isolated in your home or your life is tentatively going on as usually. Whether you are afraid or irritated. I invite you to join me in a liturgy, a response of praise, thanksgiving, supplication, and repentance. Take a deep breath. Forget the statistics and participate with me.

Liturgy For A Pandemic (based on Psalm 91):

Lord, you had authority over creation yesterday. You have authority over creation today. And you will still have authority over creation tomorrow. We stop in this moment to give you praise, as is fitting. We praise you for your goodness and mercy. We praise you for your strength and power. You are Lord over all the earth.

In this moment we praise you.

Lord, we confess in this crisis our eyes have been too much on the world and media, and not enough on you. We have thought unkind thoughts, spoken ungracious words, allowed fear to get the best of us, judged others too harshly. Forgive us for not making you our refuge, for not trusting in your name, for not calling on you, or reflecting your nature. Be patient with us and teach us through this time to be like you.

In this moment we ask for forgiveness.

Lord, there are shortages, there is confusion, and tempers flare. At moments we feel stalked by an unseen enemy. Whether by a disease or fear itself, it’s hard to tell. But even in hard moments you provide. You sustain life, give grace, and provide your Holy Spirit to lead us in wisdom. We acknowledge your kindness to us and offer thanks. You invite us to find rest in your shadow. Thank you for giving us all that we need.

In this moment we thank you.

Lord, we acknowledge that you alone are our refuge and place of safety, our God, and we trust you. Rescue and protect us. Protect us from illness. Protect us from misinformation, protect us from complacency, anger, and judgement, protect us from hysteria. Your promises are our protection. Please be a refuge for our neighbor, for the sick, for the healthcare providers, and all who are working to do good for our communities.

In this moment we trust you to provide.

Amen.

There is still much to be faced, and learned, in the days ahead. When you’ve had information overload or feel overwhelmed by the strain, take a moment and use this liturgy to focus on God’s presence with you through it all. Read Psalm 91, maybe even commit portions to memory.

Nothing is wasted in God’s economy, not even the coronavirus. If we let him he will teach us new rhythms of rest, he will give us opportunities to love and trust, he will show his glory, deepen family bonds, and prove himself faithful!

{If you know someone who needs reassurance during these times share this liturgy with them or post it on your social media.}

Not Strong

Some would say my sister is strong. They would call her heroic. Brave, amazing, all kinds of accolades have been heaped on her head.

I know better.

A few months ago she and her husband made the decision to adopt a medically fragile little boy. He spent most of his life in the hospital. It took a lot of work to get him home but after medical training, paperwork, and a transport across the country they had him.

He’s complex. He’s on a ventilator, eats with a g-tube. A nurse spends up to 17 hours a day at their house. That’s hard. Sometimes though things get complicated and they have to go without nursing care. That’s harder. The amount of time Steph and her husband spend caring for their new son’s needs would boggle any of our minds. They’ve spent time in and out of the hospital. It’s exhausting.

Who wouldn’t assume they’re strong? That they’re heroes?

I think it’s dangerous to think of people like Steph as heroes though. Here’s why. I know my sister. She’s human. Just as human as you and me. Anytime we proclaim someone doing the hard work of sacrificial love as a hero we take the truth out of the equation. We think only special people do special things. We let ourselves off the hook. The reality is God empowers broken people to be transformed by his love and then love others. What Steph is doing isn’t extra. It’s the gospel. 

Don’t misunderstand. I’m in awe of my sister and her husband. They are a spectacular example of the power of love and obedience. But that’s more a testimony of Jesus’ power than hers. She gets tired and afraid and sad. She’s human. She’s not super strong. And that’s the beauty of it. Jesus can accomplish his redemptive work through anyone of us.

She’s not a hero or super human. I’ll tell you what she is though. She’s available. She yielded her heart to Jesus a long time ago. Laid it bare and let God begin the necessary pruning work. She faithfully obeyed him for years, being available to adopt, before she got to this point. It’s not her strength that makes her amazing, it’s her submission.

Be inspired by Stephanie and Justin’s love for little Huck. Be amazed at the power of adoption – love that would take a sick, lonely child and put him in a family. And then ask – what can God do with my submitted heart?

{Loving little Huck is a lot of work. I know if you feel led Steph and Justin would appreciate it if you took a moment to pray for their family as they live in obedience to Jesus.}

Conversations with my Daughter – Being Comfortable in Your Own Skin

Growing up is hard work! One day you’re playing with dolls, the next day you’re picking out a bra. You see pictures of beautiful young women in advertisements and on tv everyday. Maybe you compare yourself to your friends. Deep inside, each girl has one question they desperately want to know the answer to: Am I beautiful?

Being comfortable with who you are isn’t just about liking your appearance, it’s also about liking yourself as a person.

Comparison is an ugly trap. Here are three ways to avoid getting stuck in the comparison game and actually being comfortable with who you are:

Take the opportunity to focus on the good, work on your weaknesses, and let go of things you can’t change.

• Embrace the good. You have a lot of strengths! Focus on those. It may be that you run fast, are emotionally strong, have pretty blue eyes, and are good at making friends. All of those things make you beautiful to God and others. You should appreciate those things about yourself as well. It’s okay to like yourself!
• Work on your weaknesses. Of course we all have weaknesses as well as strengths. Even the girls at school or on tv that you admire the most have something that they wish they could change about themselves. Be honest about who you are, not ashamed. Allow people close to you – like your parents, Sunday school teacher, or good friend – help you work on those areas. If you struggle with time management, algebra, acne, or messiness those are things that can be improved with time and attention.
• Let go of what you can’t change. There are some things about you that can’t be changed. Your height, where you were born, or any disability you may have. Recognize that even though you can’t control some aspects of yourself or your circumstance you can choose how you respond to them. The qualities of joy, hope, patience, and self control make you more beautiful than a perfect smile or high IQ. Let go of what you aren’t in control of and embrace what you can control – your attitude.

When I was young I worked at having perfect hair and worried about being smart enough. I forgot to see the good in myself at times. Now I embrace my hair, my smile, my mind, and most importantly I focus on my character. I like who I am and that frees me up to focus on what matters most. Being kind.

People who are comfortable with themselves make other people comfortable in their presence. And that’s a gift. People will appreciate it if you aren’t so caught up in yourself that you are free to see them for who they are and like them for it. That can’t happen if you see others as competition. Who you are can be a gift to the world if you’re more concerned with being loving than being admired. That starts with knowing God made you with a purpose, and you are loved and beautiful!

So relax. You’re great! Embrace the good, work on what you can, and let go of the rest!

Prayer: Heavenly Father, thank you for putting your beauty in each person, including me. Help us to embrace what is unique and wonderful about ourselves, and trust you with our weaknesses. Grow us into mature women who are comfortable in our own skin so that we can love others without competition or pettiness. Make us like you, perfect in love. Amen.

{Moms, we have the opportunity to influence our daughters by our conversations and actions, and help them to become the young women of influence they were created to be. I’m writing these conversations to open up dialogue and disciple my own girls. You can use them to! Pass them on, print them out, share them with your girls. I welcome you to share your thoughts and experiences in the comments. I’d love to hear from you! What are you facing as a mom with your daughter right now? And if you’re not a mom you probably know a mom, go ahead and share this post with her today!}

To Teachers

It’s time. The days of freedom are over, back to structure and lesson plans. I feel like I’m still processing last year, but here we are again!

I wonder if your heart shrinks a little at the thought of going back to school. No doubt the days will be long. Will you walk into your classroom and meet your match, that child capable of wearing you down even on your best days?

Maybe the summer has filled you with a buoyant sense of hopeful expectation. You can’t wait to see the sun-kissed faces about to greet you. I hope so!

Either way, if you’ve taught for anytime at all you know the day will come this year when you just can’t take another minute. The little darlings will head out to music and you’ll put your head in your hands and pray to make it to 3:30. You may even cry and cram chocolate in your mouth, it’s totally understandable!

Put these words in your pocket for that day: THANK YOU!

Seriously, thank you. You don’t have to be teacher of the year to be worthy of profound thanks. Those of us who are paying attention, and there are plenty of us who are, know that you work hard at an incredibly challenging job.

So ahead of time I say thanks for noticing the little fella in the back row who acts out and smells stinky. Thanks for recognizing that he’s not bad, he’s just hurting and needs to find confidence in himself.

Thanks for taking time to celebrate a student who has truly worked hard to master a skill that has challenged them. Thanks for pressing in and showing them the importance of persistence.

Thank you for recognizing that even though you have standards to cover and tests to administer and your own set of expectations to live up to, education isn’t actually one size fits all, and often the most important lessons kids learn aren’t in a text book or even on the test.

Thanks for taking the time to honor each child’s value and individuality, while also teaching the importance of co-operation and community.

Thanks for late nights and getting excited about crafts and using your own resources and worrying about our kids like they’re your kids.

You may make mistakes this year. You may lose your cool once or twice (or 50 times, I’m not counting). You may think about quitting. That’s normal. You’re human, although I have questioned it since some of you have super human skills, like astronomical patience, and not taking a bathroom break for hours, and having eyes in the back of your head.  But when you do make a mistake, cut yourself some slack! Loving dozens of children, many of them with deep hurts, some of them with disabilities, all of them needy – is a hard job.

The impact of your kind words and gentle eyes are profound, as you well know. I pray this year that children who feel unworthy will sense their preciousness in your presence. And I pray the children who have already learned prejudice will, in humility, un-learn it at your knee. I pray the harsh words that spring up on your tongue will die there as you look into defiant, broken eyes and you press in to model mercy. I pray you will be surprised at the endurance, joy, and enthusiasm you find bubbling up in your heart, even on the hardest days, when you desperately need a break.

May hope fill hallways and love fill your classrooms. May old cycles of fear and weariness be defeated by truth and grace this year. May healthy relationships and value for each person be modeled to the younger generation. May discipline and sacrifice replace apathy. And may summer come quickly on the wings of a successful school year!

Teachers, that is my hope for you!

{If you know a teacher share this post and a heartfelt message of appreciation with them! Check in with them throughout the year, offer words of encouragement, and ask how you can pray for and support them!}

My Mom was beautiful because she lived

Just a little over one and a half years ago my mother drew her last ragged breath. It may as well have been a lifetime ago. It feels like forever. Maybe because I started losing her months before.

During the few days she lay in a hospice bed I watched her essence slip away. It was strangely reminiscent of seeing someone undress. Intimate, uncomfortable, humbling. The old was being stripped off; a husk discarded. People say, I suppose by way of comfort when someone has died, “that’s just a body, the person’s not really here.” As if the body is unimportant. That sentiment is not actually comforting. Her body was a conduit for expressing her love.

My mom’s features changed as she died. Through the strange mask of illness a familiar expression would break through, her hands moved like a memory, her eyebrows lifted just so. Curled in a window seat I studied her. Remembered her. The cancer had eaten away her strength, the softness of her cheek. Her hair was gone. The hair I’d watched her meticulously curl for years. Still, she was in there, I could see it.

The last day was silent. She couldn’t talk anymore. So I listened to her breath. For hours I just listened to her breathing. It reminded me of being a new mother, how I would lay near my son’s cradle and listen to him breathing, just to make sure.

And then it was over. No more breathing.

It’s funny. For years I had watched her struggle with the concept of beauty like someone fighting a roll of saran wrap. My whole life she had weighed herself and deprived herself trying to be thin. But she wasn’t thin. She was built just like the women in her family have been for generations. Generous hips, soft arms for hugging. Until the day she lay bone thin in a hospital bed. Thinner than she’d ever been. She wasn’t beautiful because she was thin; she was beautiful because she had lived.

My dad and I stood there in the silent room with her. After it was all over. I looked down and her feet were stretched out from under her sheet. So familiar.

The last thing I did for my mom was to paint her toenails.

She was going to be cremated the next day. Nail polish didn’t matter. But she would have liked it that way. She would have wanted them red. She cared about beauty. She was the same way about toenail polish as I am about lipstick.

As the room lay silent, no more straining to hear her breathing, a knife sliced through the membrane of my heart, letting in a shadow called Loss. He glided to the corner and lives there still in a silvery web.

The memories and the lessons live there too. I can’t number all of the lessons from my mom. The source and meaning of true beauty is the one I’m rolling around now, like a rock in a stream bed being polished. My mother was beautiful because she lived. I don’t think she realized that until the twilight years of her life.

Its something we women need to learn quick. We are beautiful because we live. We smile, we hug, we love, we laugh, we create, we imagine, we are beautiful. Life is too short to waste it on measuring our waist. If we measure anything it should be our kindness, or maybe our joy.

Paint your toenails red, wear lipstick, buy the pretty dress, fix up your hair if you want, but mostly, make sure you live.

Ten Tips for Thriving as a Pastor’s Wife

I recently spent a couple of days interacting with pastors wives, missionaries, and lay workers. As I watched and listened I wondered, “how many of these wives are thriving and how many are hurting, just keeping their head above water?” If I could sit down with each one, this is what I’d say:

Ministry wife, I know you. I know that you’ve closed the door to your house and sobbed over the hurtful words just lobbed at you by the “well meaning” congregation member. You’ve questioned if your children will survive to adulthood unscathed by the decisions your family has made, in the name of ministry. You’ve wondered if you will ever get over moving all your worldly goods every few years. You miss your family. Sometimes you question what you signed up for. You wonder if you can ever forgive.

Here are a few things I’ve learned over the course of my own ministry life. I walk where you walk. I ask the same questions. There have been high highs and low lows. But in the midst of it all I’m learning the secret, as Paul says, to be in need or have plenty and be content in every situation. Because ministry life isn’t about me or about my husband or even completely about the church. It’s about Christ.

1. Ministry should flow from the right motivation. If you are serving the church because it’s what your husband expects, or your parents expected, or out of guilt you will eventually crash and burn. No two ways about it. Be honest. Ask Jesus to search your motivation, and then heal it if necessary. Serving for the joy of serving, because it pleases Jesus, brings life. Experiencing his kindness to us enables us to wash dirty feet, to bear burdens, and to love his church along side of him.
2. Fill your cup before you fill anybody else’s. You will be asked to pour into your husband, your children, the congregation, families in crisis, and your neighborhood. If you aren’t drinking deeply from the well of scripture and intimacy with Jesus you will run bone dry fast. Not only will your own heart be dry, but you won’t be able to spare a drop for those precious ones you love. There is no substitute for soaking in the presence of Jesus. It takes time, it’s necessary.
3. Be honest. Church should be a place of safety and honesty, even for the pastor’s wife. That freedom shouldn’t be abused, discretion is important. But, if you feel there are things in your life people could never know that’s a problem. You will start to feel isolated and resentful over time. Even though you should feel free to be honest about who you are and what’s happening in your life there will be sensitive issues you may only be free to share with certain people. Find an elder’s wife, or the wife of a pastor in another congregation, or even a counselor to confide in.
4. Forgiveness is a must. You will have to forgive if you are going to be a pastor’s wife. Bank on it. You’ll have to forgive if you’re human, that’s just the nature of being alive, but pastor’s wives bear unique wounds. Our families are very often in the line of fire. A few years ago I bore a wound in a previous church that carried over into our current ministry. I found myself fearing my present congregation more than loving them. Forgiveness softened my heart and freed me up to love again.
5. Look for the good. Just like we’re often in the line of fire, we’re even more often in the line of good! If we’ll just look for and expect it. The amount of generosity and goodwill from a congregation can be enough to bowl you over! Shared homes, understanding words, financial kindness, investment in our children, holiday invitations, deep friendship, etc. Nurture that by having a grateful heart, appreciating the good, and setting the example when necessary.
6. Know who the enemy is. Your husband is not the enemy. Church leaders are not the enemy. The crabby congregation members aren’t the enemy. The got-it-all-together deaconess is not the enemy. There will be days when it feels like your home, your children, your marriage, your identity, and your husband are under attack. It’s important to know who the enemy is and is not. Hurt, scared, and immature people can hurt others (and those can be found in every place in the church, and your own home). If you can see beyond harsh words you will probably find they have surprising wounds of their own. The enemy we have is supernatural.
7. Assume the best. About your husband and everyone else around you. If you expect to be offended you will be. It’s not always easy, especially when you’ve been hurt in the past, but expecting the best in our churches can set them up for success. If you give the benefit of the doubt to off-handed comments, attitudes, or expressions you will most likely find the source of an offense is not about you. Be slow to assume and quick to think well of people. It will go a long way in producing an atmosphere of trust and love.
8. Give yourself permission to rest and heal. It’s going to happen, if it hasn’t already, you will be wounded and worn out. Take the time to draw back with Jesus and heal. Recognize the season you are in. Whether you have to get someone else to take over your responsibilities for a while or you seek moments to be alone in your busy schedule, when your body and heart say rest, listen.
9. Clearly define expectations. There is no one way to be a pastor’s wife. Some of us dive in and work alongside of our husbands laboring under our own calling. Some of us quietly support our husbands from home. Some of us work full-time to make ministry life a possibility, but are limited in our own personal ministry involvement. The only wrong way to be a pastor’s wife is to not love. But there are hundreds of ways to love. Let your congregation know what that looks like for you. This will avoid a clash of expectation and frustration.
10. Receive ministry from others. It’s humbling but so important to be able to receive. We cannot always be the givers, and we shouldn’t be. Sometimes our dirty feet will need washing from all of the messy places we’ve been. Let your people love you. Let them minister to you. It will give them a sense of satisfaction and increase the love among you. This can be hard for us in ministry, sometimes it makes us feel vulnerable, but we must learn to receive to participate fully in the body of Christ.

You know that being a pastor’s wife is an amazing journey! A privilege. One that is not easy. If you would like some encouragement or someone to pray with you please email me at beckgambill@hotmail.com. It would be my honor to hear your story and share your burden! Press in dear one, Jesus has beautiful purposes for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you.

{If you know a pastor’s wife who could use some encouragement why not pass this post on to her with a word of appreciation. She’ll be glad you did!}