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I thought of you this morning. . .

A few days ago I wrote about curling up in the lap of the Father.  On this cool, dreary day in Colorado that sounds extra nice.  As I sit here writing this morning I am at my most favorite spot in the entire world - at least at 5am.  It’s still dark outside.  There is some nice jazz music filling my background noise.  And the smell. . .it’s yummy enough to wake up anyone’s senses.  Where am I?  Yep, you guessed it. . .

We happen to have 8 Starbucks within a 2 mile radius of my home, but only one is open at 5am.  Until I started this routine I don’t think I truly believed that life actually happened at 5am.  But today, there is a lot of life happening.  There are runners treading the sidewalk outside the window where I’m sitting.  The drive thru is hoppin’.  I see delivery trucks unloading at the grocery store across the street.  The barrista’s are chattering about their late night adventures.  The sun is slowly starting to show a glimmer of life behind the heavy, gray clouds.  And here I am, sipping my tall Pike Place drip and hanging out with God before I tackle another day.

For years I bounced from one way to another of spending time alone with God.  I have tried every quiet time method imagined.  I’d go strong for a while and then fizzle out. . .over and over again.  But there is something about finally finding that sweet spot - finally finding THE place, THE time, THE right fit.  And when that happens, time alone with God finally becomes your lifeline.  At least that’s what happened to me.  Now my time alone at 5am is as essential as the cup of joe in my hand.  It’s addicting.  It’s refreshing.  It’s what I MUST have to make it through the day.

I’m wondering, are any of you like me?  You have searched and searched and wished and tried and given up and started again, trying to meet with the Father on a regular basis?  It seems as if it took me way too long to get here.  But here I am.  And here is where I intend to stay.  As I’m thinking of you this morning, my prayer is that you, …

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You may remember this news story from the Olympics a few weeks ago. . .it made me laugh.  Why?  Because I can relate. . .

You can relate to it, too, can’t you?  At some point or another like me, you have been totally mistaken for someone else. . .the perfect mother with the perfect children, the quiet and unassuming wife, the one who has it all together, the one during Bible study who has all the answers about God and life, the one who never messes up. . .  Instead of ‘I am not Michael Phelps,’ you find yourself screaming, ‘I am not the perfect little pastor’s wife that you expect me to be!’ 
Mistaken Identity. . .

Living a transparent and authentic life in front of others is my challenge for you today. 

Of course, we need to strive to be our best in all things that God has gifted us.  I desire to be an amazing mom and wife.  I want to do a better job at keeping my mouth shut and allowing my husband to lead.  I want to know God in such a way that others look to me for Godly counsel and wisdom.  I want to have it all together with the outward appearance of a woman who has spent 12 hour/week in the gym and another 4 at the spa.  I want the inward peace, gentleness and servants heart of Mother Teresa and the knowledge and words of Beth Moore, but none of those things are necessarily who I am a lot of days.

I’m messed up and frazzled and selfish and just plain old tired sometimes. My house is a disaster and my kids often need a huge lesson in respect.  But I know that God created me and willed me to lead this life - not as a frazzled person, but a person on the road to transformation.  I don’t have it all together.  Neither do you.  But my strongest heart’s desire is to keep putting one foot in front of the other and continue to press into God’s call on my life. . .discovering who God uniquely created me to be and doing my best to allow him to keep transforming me. . .seeking my true identity in Christ and not the identity that …

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Let me jump up on my soapbox and scream to the world this morning. . .I am not a church PLANTER’S wife!  Now don’t freak out on my just yet. . . it’s just that what I prefer to be thought of is a church PLANTING wife. You know what I mean. . .I am not just the wife of the church planter like someone is the wife of a banker. O no, no. . .I am the wingman, and so are you. Ladies, this journey is ours just as much as it is our husbands’. We are called just as he is called to begin a church. To say I am a church planter’s wife almost seems as if my role is less than that of my husband. It is not. . .not when you are starting a church from scratch. Ladies, you hear me don’t you?  We are a HUGE part of the journey. 

Not long ago NAMB asked me to write in a book for CPwives and this was my response.  Let me know what you think. . .

I do not pastor the church. I watch the back of the one who does.

I do not make the decisions. I pray for the wisdom of the ones who do.

I do not play the piano or run the nursery. I keep my hands free so I can help out wherever I might be needed on a Sunday morning. And I do serve in the areas where I am truly passionate.

I do not come to church with the most beautiful Sunday attire. I come to church often in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and flip flops. No doubt I will be on my hands and knees either loving on a snotty, crying child or sweeping up donut crumbs and spilled coffee from the school cafeteria floor.

I do not get jealous when other women need my husband’s counsel. But, I do keep a very close tab on every situation. I talk with my husband about boundaries and guidelines that will help to protect our marriage and he allows me to check up on him and ask him tough questions

I do date my husband every single week. I do not let conversation turn towards church affairs during our …

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Connectedness. . .Do you realize how connected we are in this generation? Right now I am typing as I sit at Panera Bread, sipping my Americano in Superior, Colorado. . .and you are all over the world.  You are at home late at night on the East coast and only minutes ago you got your toddler to fall asleep.  You are in Starbucks with your tall, extra hot caramel latte.  You are on your iPhone while sitting in the pick-up lane at the school.  You are in Australia and Korea and the UK and Canada.  You are the reluctant internet user or you are addicted like me. And right now, at this very moment, we are connected.

Internet Cafe at the base camp of Mt. Everest - 17,060ft

Remember how we used to pick up an encyclopedia to discover the information that we needed about the world around us?  Now I go out on a date with my husband, we look at the menu to decide what to eat, and when I don’t know the difference between feta and gouda. . .he pulls out his cell phone and “Google’s” it.  No need to ask the waiter.  The answer is at our fingertips in 10.2 seconds assuming he has a good Wi-Fi signal.

We are connected like no other time in history.  We Facebook and MySpace, blog, Skype, Twitter and email.  Google Reader is the first thing we run to every morning.  We are connected to friends and acquaintances and people we’ve never even met face to face.  But are we really connected???

This morning I was listening to Charles Stanley teach about solitude.  Are we connected to the One who matters?  Or are we connecting to so many others that we forget to “Google” the Father?
Why do I get more excited over the opportunity of being unlimitedly connected to the rest of the world than I get about the opportunity to be unlimitedly connected to our Creator?  Why does the noise so often become more enticing than the quiet solitude and relationship available to me 24/7 with the Father?

So just a reminder today. . .God is listening before we even open our mouths (now that’s a strong signal) And he knows a heck of a lot more than Google could ever answer.
Through him we both share the same Spirit …

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