Burnt Cheese

Life is... a craving satisfied. Enhanced when you didn't even realize that's what you were craving until you got it. It's that delicious moment when God whomps into the deep-calls-to-deep spot in the center of your soul. I love that spot. It's so... satisfying.

He came to breakfast. Grilled cheese. Who wouldn't?

I'm cooking and Sara Bareilles is singing Brave compliments of my friend Sherra who makes me better. Brave's playing on a fb page so I'm looking at the faces of my Stand girls and my heart is working to contain what those faces do to me, how they fill my world to overflowing.

My head is still trying to process the emotion of watching our Joeie-ellie walk down the aisle to a boy who loves Jesus more than he loves her. And all our girls, who were in Jr. High ten minutes ago, were there, some wearing rings from other boys who love Jesus, all of them searching for Him in every space of their lives. Those girls wreck me. How can I love them so much?

There's a picture of Samantha training to be a soldier, which is fitting because I don't know many who are willing to stand in battle like she does.

My world tightens to just the space my computer fills, my cheeks are drowning, my heart is dense with all the emotion and hope and love these women bring to my life. I feel like me and Jesus are having this beautiful moment. Until. I smell burnt cheese. Dang it.

Whomp.

 Whomp such an absolutely accurate way to describe God's entrance in those super personal moments that confirm I'm His. He doesn't crash in; He loves me too much. He doesn't sneak in; He's too sure of Himself for that. He whomps. It's graceful and gentle and consuming. Only a Creator could connect with His creation this way.

Can't say you've felt that connection? Can't remember it? It's there. Take another grip with tired hands. Take another, or a first, look beyond where and who you are. It's not-so-simple and so simple all at the same time.

...back to it cause now I'm a bit ticked. My breakfast is burning.

But there's that lingering whomp. Because this day started like most others do lately - overwhelmed, overbooked, not enough hours or resources or strength. Painful. Impossible. Really hard to manage. Tomorrow promises the same.

From that place of hurt God connected and satisfied my craving for release.

While my heart and head and every fiber of my emotions were straining to contain how those women and their abilities inspire me, the enormity of my responsibilities and expectations were killing me.

God brings balance and when He does it's complete, unlike my version which looks a lot like baked procrastination with a fear frosting. He simply asked me what I was willing to let burn for the sake of lasting memories and relationships like I have with these women. Like my grilled cheese.

Let burn. Let. As in choose and then allow. Burn. As in disintegrate, which, by definition, means it's gone. You can't get it back. Without even realizing what I was agreeing to, I agreed. Let it burn!

To my amazement, what God wanted me to let burn was not my to do list (bummer). It was the life-threatening weight of my self-imposed stuff. I didn't realize how excruciating the weight of worrying about what someone who chooses not to like me thinks had become. I'm immobile from worrying that I'll do something wrong and mess up someone else. I'm carrying the weight of all that I'm supposed to do and care about in addition to an unmanageable heart-load of fear and self-doubt and worry.

Crazy thing is, the people who I'm worried about should be carrying this load, not me. When I carry it they don't have to. That won't fix anything. It'll sure break me though.

And just like that, whomp, I could choose to burn it. Craving. Satisfied. Like ice water when you're melting. Like really good coffee... any time. My deep-calls-to-deep was offered release. The absence of that weight was tangible to my soul. There was suddenly available space in my brain and heart. I didn't need fewer tasks as much as I needed fewer worries. Who knew that was an option?

Life is suddenly manageable. Same to do list. Same number of hours in the day. Less worry. God brings balance.

This wasn't a simple moment for me to come by. I've been CHOOSING to cling, desperately at times, to God. I didn't always want to. Sometimes I called Him mean in the quiet places of my heart. Same thing as shouting it to the God who is my DNA. I knew He could hear me. I was hurting, but I wouldn't let go. All I could do was continue to push myself against Him, hold on to Him. Make the choice to do what I knew I should despite it all.

He proves to be real and strong and able without fail. I now know Him well enough to choose Him. Over and over. Hurt AND joy. Fear AND trust. Doubtful AND sure. Despised AND loved. Always.

He's the Lover of my soul. That's one of my favorite names of God. That kind of God satisfies cravings before I identify them. He brings balance. He saves grilled cheese.  

There is promise in the pain

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted; He saves those crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

As a mom and wife and pastor and human being, my heart is, as is yours, grieved in ways that are horrifying and sad beyond description. I want to declare my love for my kids and my sorrow for those who are now forced to realize life without their child. It's unthinkable. 

We need to process. No matter how you've been affected by this, and other tragedies, we need to talk-out what's in our heads and hearts. We need our reactions and responses to be heard and affirmed. It's healthy. 

We also need to know our truth. It's better if you already know it and just need to breathe long enough to reset and regain firm footing. It's often more difficult than some are willing to tackle to try to find truth in the throws of a broken heart. It's difficult, but not impossible.

To my girls who are just starting to recognize Jesus in all things; to my sweet, strong Mommas who are holding onto their kiddos a little tighter and stronger today: I want to give you and remind you of our Truth.

God does not give us an attitude of fear or timidity, but of power, love and a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7 It's truly hard not to be fearful when something like this happens. It reminds us we're not invincible just because we're Christians. That rocks my world. I don't like it. I want God to sign on the dotted line that me and mine will always be safe. In these moments I need my Truth more than ever.

With perfect peace you will protect those whose minds cannot be changed, because they trust you. Isaiah 26:3 Another translation of that verse further explains how to be assured of this promise of peace: God will keep in perfect peace those whose minds stay fixed on Him. There is so much floating around telling us how we should feel and what we should expect when tragedy strikes. The root of most of the negativity and damnation is fear, but anger is easier to handle than fear. When I'm angry you can't touch me. When I'm angry I'm in control - or so it feels. And so we spew. Even when it seems perfectly justifiable, resist the angry spew. No one benefits from it. It's unattractive. Makes you look foolish because a fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back. Proverbs 29:11  It negates your status as someone who loves because the are loved: a Christian. And stirs up other fearfully angry people: A gentle word turns away wrath, but harsh words stir up anger. Proverbs 15:1 All things that take us out of the tractor beam of the promises that create our Truth and soak us in peace. Instead let everything you say be good and helpful, as is fitting for the occasion, so that your words will be an encouragement to those who hear. Ephesians 4:29 Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God. James 1:19 I really want my family to live and breathe surrounded by the righteousness of God.

Don't get sucked into fear or doubt. Be different. It's a much happier place to be. We can't accomplish anything or add a single day to our life by worrying. Matthew 6:27 Instead decide, repeatedly decide, to believe your Truth. Trust it. It's God's will and deepest desire to keep us in perfect peace even when circumstances yell and scream in your face that there's no hope of peace in the middle of "this". Philippians 4:7  And share your Truth, your peace. Never feel like you have to fit into tragedy. How does that make loving Jesus worth while? You're not doing anyone, least of all the brokenhearted, a favor by being yet another lost and fearful person in the crowd. There's a difference between someone who knows and lives in Truth and has that peace to offer, and someone who is callus and heartless to a situation. That's not you. God will show you how to be YOU, and through you He will shine. When you believe in your truth and allow it to calm you, soothe you, send your baby to school, cry with a friend, laugh through those tears, put one foot in front of the other, invite someone to church or into your home for dinner or coffee because it's in those places and moments that both of you get to see Jesus do what He does best - love us.

As we head into the days when we'll try hard to move forward and regroup, will you continue praying for the families who lost their children? I know you will. Let's pray together for those who are equipped to help them know Jesus and recover through His love to have favor and access to their lives. I'm praying for each of us to be deeper in love with Jesus and to plant these truths into our hearts and minds so we can be quick to call them up and know that we are always on firm footing with the Lord.

Love you.

Melanie

2. 
   

1 year later 2 months ago

Well. It's only been a yearish since the last post. I'm ready to crack this open. I think.

The last post was written with toes over the edge of our first prelaunch service which happened one block from Church Street, down the stairs to the FlynnSpace theater. For as much as I have seen in the two years we've been here, these two places are the cultural definitions of Burlington.

I cannot describe the night. I cannot believe I didn't turn inside out. It was surreal. I felt like a rock star, a little kid, myself and someone else all at the same time. I felt like God's hand was so heavy on my head and shoulders and heart that it was almost crushing, yet I know it was the only thing that made one foot continue to step in front of the other.

My girls were there. Cute as anything. Excited. Running around. Dancing on the stage. They ate in the green room. Twirled in the full length mirrors that super stars (small s) have twirled in. They played with their friends and my gift from God, Ms. Sue. They were there. It's part of their story. They are part of the story of Stand. That's priceless to me.

I still can't find the words to articulate what it felt like (feels like) to have people invest in the vision and passion of this ministry. Our friends here were literally hand-picked by God. He shared the plan with them before we did. He pierced their hearts and set their feet on the same narrow path he mapped for us. And there they were, doing things I hadn't thought of, doing them better than I ever could. They made the service happen so I could actually BE there.

I watched my husband load in, rehearse, lead worship and open the door God built.  Jesus' love and power would be available to anyone who came that night and every time we meet. We actually lived the inception of our dream.

There were 32 people there. People who don't know Jesus well enough to be in love with him yet. It was amazing.

It was overwhelming.

We had a month before we had to do it again. That was not much time.

Vermont is perceived as this magical, fall-colored syrupy-sweet place. Underneath it's steeped in a dark spiritual heritage. It's well-versed in keeping things quiet and solitary. It's the perfect place for God to set up camp. That called for a fight. It took about two seconds for me to feel like I was managing an impossible balancing act in my mind and soul. I couldn't believe how much time had passed in an instant. Summer ended. We were ready for our official launch.

God did the miraculous and we were welcomed onto the UVM campus to have weekly meetings in the Billings Library. We promoted as Loud. Caffeinated. Church. We set up an impressive smorgasbord of free candy, sodas, Monsters and Red Bull. We'd go into the rooms where students were studying and invite them to come get sustenance - nothing makes a study session as effective as a Monster and Sour Patch Kids. They came. We got to tell them why we were there - no strings. We got to BE the church every week.

At Christmas we had Keurig hot chocolate and cookies - a lot of cookies. Students came and one guy was insulted that I didn't remember him. He'd been "coming to our church" all semester. We'd talked. I'd listened. I knew about his upcoming test. I blamed it on his beanie and scarf. I swear I had no idea we were part of the same church family.  Here's what I learned: there is no preconceived need for church here. There is little to no understanding of church to so many. They have no idea what it means to me when I say I'm a pastor, a Christian. This was his church - all he'd ever known or experienced. Some sugar and caffeine were a means to be heard and considered and remembered (I recovered well - darn beanie). That's now what he knows church to be. He never sat through a service. But he felt connected because every week we got to BE church and just love on those students. I pray for more for him. I'm ok with the way the seed was planted and watered with Monsters.

I text almost every week with students who don't sit in on the service. But they are learning what church is, who God is. All they know is that I'm available. I remember their tests. I laugh and cry and continue to do so no matter what they tell me. They say, "I'm so glad you're my pastors." ??? I get it now. It's weird. Well, it was. It's Vermont. Which is now us - the magical syrupy parts. It's how we're having church. By being church. It can't be about the building or the numbers when you don't have either. That will change. We will grow but not until it'll never be about the building or the numbers.

That's the long story short. Some weeks we think we've arrived. Many others we are disappointed that the seats aren't filled. I finally feel like I can write a few things and start to let the goings on of the past year start to filter out. The impossible balancing act I've been managing is equalizing just a skosh.