Kyrie in the '80s

I’ve been intrigued lately by something from the ’80s. In the middle of the huge world of pop music, and for a while at the top of the pop charts, a group called Mr. Mister sang the words “Kyrie eleison,” which in Greek asks for the Lord to have mercy upon us. What a grand picture to imagine millions of people seeking the Lord through that song. That is…IF they understood what they were singing. I, for one, was pretty much oblivious to the whole thing. I don’t remember my brain being tuned in. And there lies the intrigue: how many times do I overlook evidence of the Lord? Even more, do I ever see evidence of Him but flat-out ignore it? Sometimes I don’t afford Him even 10 minutes. I see the Bible sitting on the table and pass it by. I drive east some mornings and realize afterward that I didn’t even notice the sunrise, which He created. For that matter, we can be aware of a beautiful sunrise but have the audacity to opt for the radio in resistance to quietly pondering the depth of His creation. Evidence of the Lord will never cease, and I ask Him to make me aware of His presence—in music, creation, and all the places He takes me. Still now, decades later, I’m so glad Mr. Mister sang those words.

Kissed so lovingly

He leaned toward her to sing. Each of his phrases seemed to speak from a smile he offered so naturally. I wondered if the whole time he remembered the days when they both could laugh and frolic freely. Now she rests in a bed with her husband sitting near, offering loving nudges to prompt her body to move. With one forefinger, he touches near her eye and finds such joy to see her eyelids lift. He gently touches the side of her mouth, saying, “Come on now. No sugar without singing.” Her lips respond, bidding a faint voice of the brightest hope. And indeed he gladly shares his kisses as soft, little pecks to her forehead. It was a demonstration of love so pure and patient, perhaps more tender than I’d ever witnessed before. Papers and a phone had fallen from his lap, and my entrance into the room was for their retrieval, yet I found myself standing in respect for something we don’t often see. A truly awe-inspiring picture of something God sets within and beyond our human capacities. Thank you, Lord.

A new birthday

Imagine the fun of a birthday party with ice cream, candy, decorations, and even those rubber-banded party hats that pinch under your chin. Add a candle to the cake, and everybody’s smiling and bubbly. One very sweet friend adds her personal testimony as she celebrates her Christian birthday. More than the day she arrived on this earth, she recognizes the day she asked Jesus Christ to be her Savior. I know no one else who celebrates this way, and she’s caused me to rethink a few things for good reason. She grew up in excruciating circumstances. She was sexually abused as a child, and in her adolescence, her mother tried to kill her with a car. Having sought the services of a counselor at different points of her adulthood, this sweet friend has gained healthful perspective and tried to reconnect with some members of her family, though it’s been a rough road. Her love of the Lord is utmost. She recognizes His deep love for her, and that’s why she celebrates. Even for people with cushy lives, all the nice-and-neat childhoods in the world don’t change the fact that we all need the love and forgiveness of Jesus. No matter where we’re born on this globe, no matter our difficulty or ease in dealing with family, no matter the pain we’ve endured or the pain we’ve caused, Jesus offers a new beginning. 1 Peter 1:3 says He has given us new birth into a living hope. May we celebrate.

A rejuvenating conversation

My gauge leaned toward empty. The sit-down conversations I love about real-life issues had not happened this day. Two and a half hours of good teaching and worshipful music, yet somehow I felt disconnected. But as our study group was dismissing, opportunity presented new. A bundle of kindness now sat in the chair next to me, and she was the personification of God’s blessing. I discovered she’d been in a car wreck just a few days before and that she’d endured some of my same bumps and bruises in life. Despite all that, her thankful spirit smiled bright, and we shared stories of the Lord and of the ways He calls us to new situations. In fact, within this very conversation, He was supplying new joy through friendship and for prayer. Psalm 121 says He watches over our lives and does not slumber. He had answered my longing. And my gauge now tilted full again.

Restless in the car

No talking. Waking up at 6:00 on a Saturday morning was not what I wanted to do. But finally I interrupted our quiet in the car to acknowledge my bad attitude and to say I was asking the Lord to change me. My selfishness didn’t feel good. In fact, it made me quite restless. Our drive to church was for an occasion I usually love, and shortly after my prayer, the Lord did return the joy. It was opportunity to worship with the community and offer food and clothes, and He poured blessing into those nooks and crannies where I’d allowed selfishness to reside. I had wondered what stories to share with the congregation that morning, and as we sang “Seek Ye First,” the Lord reminded me of one of His real-life lessons on priority. I had stared at a high pile of school papers to grade, yet when I surrendered my red pen in order to spend time with Him first, He seemed to speed up the grading later on. It was a perfect story to share with the song lyrics. The next blessing came in the form of a Korean lady speaking English. She courageously spoke in her new language to share her love of the Lord, and in the process she encouraged my use of Spanish. Soon I found myself inviting to church a jewelry store owner and a Supercuts stylist, and I stood amazed all over again at how the Lord seemed to let the Spanish words roll from my tongue. Then still another blessing came when the Lord showed me what to write next in my blog. I routinely ask Him what to write for you as readers, and on this occasion I’d felt devoid of ideas. Yet He reminded me about last week’s concert, which became Monday’s blog entry. With each blessing, the Lord layered for me a new humility. Selfishness had invited me to pout, and I had accepted the offer, yet the Lord ultimately won. And driving home we became a noisy car rattling to tell about the Lord.

Concert + God

My ticket stub listed Casting Crowns as the concert headline. Yet there was also something else happening that night. Even in Lindsay McCaul’s opening songs, the Lord was already at work. He knew her lyrics would touch a particular fear I’d been harboring. The previous day, a friend very sweetly asked if I planned to audition for our next community theater production. This next set of auditions requires Canadian and British accents, and the idea makes me nervous. Playing around with dialects can be fun, yet this next production is not a comedy, and trying to seriously change my vowel tones on stage with everybody watching could be quite uncomfortable. Still the Lord rescued me to reveal how my thoughts had been twisting out of priority. Honestly I don’t want fear of a British accent to inhibit my willingness to answer the Lord's call. Our selfish human nature can present a persistent battle, yet the Lord's ways will thrill the selfless heart. At the concert, as Sanctus Real and the Afters entered, and as Casting Crowns talked about leaving the mindsets of the world behind, I loved the Lord all over again for interceding on my behalf. Joshua 1:9 says, “…do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Indeed the Lord was with me at the concert, with purpose even beyond the imprint on the ticket stub.