Storm the Gates

When I was a little girl--three to be specific--I began singing publicly. My dad was a phenomenal classical guitarist and I was doggone cute and could hold a tune, and this seemed to make folks happy. So, I started singing (while he was playing) at nursing homes, various churches, and by the age of five weddings, and not long after that, funerals. Evie Tornquist was my role model and many of her songs were in my repertoire including one that said, "I'm only four feet eleven but I'm goin' to heaven and it makes me feel ten feet tall."
Only, I sang three feet eleven 'cause I was (and may still be) so darn short. Cute, right?

Well, it was until I hit my awkward stage...

And this one is thrown in just because there are so few pictures of my dad and me and this one just hit me square in the heart.

So, I guess you could say that pretty much all of my life, I have been singing.

And hating it.
No matter how many times I sang in public, I despised it. I hated the upset stomach that preceded it, I hated the way it made my entire being shake to the core. I dreaded worrying about what people thought of me.

I despised in myself the love for the attention and the need for praise.

I was told by my mother that I was given a gift, and if I didn't use it God would take it away from me. That fear of the awful moment when my voice would be snatched away from me (think Ariel and Ursula) worked well on a people-pleasing, afraid-of-everything personality.

So I sang.

At some point when I was in my twenties, things got rough for my Dad and he forgot how to use his gift well. We didn't perform together anymore. I missed the camaraderie and the bond that came with it, but we just let it fade away.
I still sang alone at weddings, funerals, and once in a while at church, but when I did, I was still battling epically on the inside every single time.

And then I quit.

I just decided that it was not worth it. And I had never found the purpose in it anyway. The suffering that surrounded it just outweighed any benefit. I vowed to myself to quit forever. I never wanted to sing in public again.
Big, huge sigh of relief.

Enter into my life a time where my heart felt like raw meat. I was in the midst of separating from my parents, beginning youth ministry with Christian and telling God He could do whatever He wanted with my life. It was a time of charging forward and storming the gates, if you will.
You see, until then, I was a soft-spoken girl afraid of my own shadow, operating entirely in a life of shoulds. I did what I should because I should and because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't. Anything I did that looked brave was usually bravery resting on someone else's laurels. Not Alison's.

I remember taking a self-defense class with Justin at some point in my twenties and punching someone for the first time in my life. Once I started I couldn't stop. It felt so good to feel powerful. I punched so much I left bruises on my teacher and came home exhilarated.

This is how I felt when I surrendered all and whatever to my heavenly Daddy. I literally felt infused with a power that was not my own. Whatever stood ahead faced my "BRING IT ON" attitude. I had ceased being afraid.

And then someone asked me to sing. Not just any someone. A professional musician needed a singer for a youth event we were hosting. Despite my intimidation of him and much to my own dismay, I heard my own voice agreeing.

It was an entirely new page that had turned in my spirit. If there is such a thing as praising defiantly, I was doing it. The only singing I vowed to do from this point forward was worship. That's all that had merit to me. And so I began to worship in a new way. I worshiped from the hurt, afraid, and broken part of my spirit. And like a balm, the worship began to cover those deep places and I began to heal.

Through the entire time that things were at their absolute worst in my life, I was passionately worshiping until my body would hurt from the exertion. Like a good coach, the aforementioned musician (who became a brother to me) was still pushing me to worship and he will still laugh at me for the times I literally fought him by stomping my feet as he pushed me out front to new levels of bravery in my ability to take the mess the enemy had tried to ruin me with and turn it into words of public praise. There were days when, during practice, I would go from sobbing in a corner over the latest developments to wiping my face and taking the stage.

It was the most powerful time of my life. A huge part of my testimony about the absolute power of words and even more about the power of a God who saved my life.

I learned that I was made to worship. I was not made to sing, and that's why any type of singing with the wrong motive felt like torture to me. I was created to tell my God how amazing He is. Whether that's on a stage or in my kitchen or in the words I speak to my family or a stranger in the grocery store, I am here on this earth to reflect the love of my God. It is my purpose. It is my intention.

It's about looking evil in the face and declaring a new thing. To see the impossibly high gates ahead and storm them with whatever weapon I have been given.

May I encourage you to open your mouth and use your voice?

Click.

In which "state" do you live?

We had an interesting conversation the other day. It had to do with the different musical tastes represented by our family members. We decided, just for fun to see what state everyone would live in based on their favorite music styles. We have very eclectic music tastes around here. We listen to so many different styles from Celtic Woman to Bon Jovi, classical to way too loud.
Christian has rhythm in his blood. Ordinary household objects are drums under his hands, so we placed him in Florida so he could enjoy the rhythms of Miami. Addie is drawn to folk-y music so I guess she'd end up in Vermont. Kyrsten likes too many styles to narrow down so we put her in a motorhome so she can just travel from state to state. Justin would live in Hollywood, but not for the reasons you might think. He loves the beauty of an amazingly composed movie soundtrack, so off to California he goes. Me? Well Addie said I'd be in a church because all I listen to is worship music. Ha! So I'll just pick a state somewhere smack-dab in the middle of the Bible Belt. Arkansas?

The funny part of this is that the states we'd end up in based on musical preferences are probably the last places we would truly choose to live in. But there we are.

So this led me to a train of thought (pun intended). I think that many of us find ourselves in different "states" of mind--places we didn't think we chose, but we ended up here anyway. Just as we, in America, physically live in this varied group of fifty states we live in a varied group of mental and emotional states and set up camp. I'll explain...

The first state is called Complacency. It's a place full of folks who are somewhat satisfied with each day being the same ol', same ol'. The weather is generally cloudy, but no one really cares. This state is known for it's unseen and very dangerous quicksand called Ineffectiveness in which people disappear and aren't seen again. Though the resources are plentiful, the people don't produce much because they just don't really care to.

Another state is called Control. This an extremely over-populated state. People flock from all over to this well-planned society. Though organized and efficient, it is also unimaginative and lacks excitement. Each member lives in a lovely box that is carefully designed, but from the outside each box looks the same. People here rarely if ever venture outside of their box to enjoy the wildlife, but spend their time collecting trinkets called Opinions which they love to share with everyone they meet.

The next state is Ignorance. Though no one who lives there will admit it, it's really a pretend state. It was never a real state and everyone here knows better deep down, but it's easier to claim this as their home state than to have to pack all their things and move. The problem is that when living here, they do things that hurt themselves and others they claim to care about. Things they never would have done living somewhere else. Somehow, it's just easier to excuse here.

Next on the list is Confusion. This is a state that was not created by God (according to 1 Corinthians 14:33). Each member of this state is given a manual upon arrival that clearly states how to survive this place despite its frequent storms and natural disasters, but most never read it and wander about instead trying to make sense of it all without ever really accomplishing much. People often get lost wandering within the city there called Indecision.

A very popular state that is also used as a frequent getaway for residents of other states is called The Past. Somewhat of a novelty, everyone here walks backward! Most stay at home, lacking the courage to venture out since they can never see the brightness of the future, but choose to focus instead on the failures and hurts in the darkness behind them. A common city here is Pessimism where the weather is always partly cloudy and the lakes half-empty. Pessimists and people who live in The Past often relocate to our next state.

This next state is the only one to have two peninsulas that connect by a narrow bridge. In order to get to the second, you must travel all the way through the first called Despair. It's a long, lonely journey often traveled backwards, eyes firmly in The Past. This place though not as barren as is thought by its travelers, is cold and dark so the beauty that could be is not seen or noticed. Some of its famous cities are Could Have, Should Have, and Would Have. Its capital city is named Grief. Once one travels through Despair they have the chance to continue on across the bridge into Hopelessness. This place is void of all beauty and living things. Once there, it is very hard to leave. Sadly, residents here have short life spans.

Narcissism is a very populated state. Here folks are happiest when they can stay in their houses made of reflective materials with fantastic acoustics so their own voices can be heard even better and more clearly. These people are always looking out their windows at their neighbors so they can be sure that they, themselves, are indeed better off. Although not a productive society, people here don't mind too much as long as they are able to focus solely on themselves and their needs.

Insecurity is probably the largest state. Everyone travels through this state once in a while, but many stay and build permanent residences built on lies from the enemy. These lies are perpetuated through the media which has a huge impact as well as through the voices of people around them. Unfortunately these voices are deafeningly loud and are very difficult to drown out. Only one Truth silences them and once residents hear it, they immediately leave and rest in safer lands.

One of the most frightening of all states is Bitterness. Upon visiting, one would find travel very difficult as the ground is consumed with roots of varying sizes. These roots are known to seize folks by the ankles, and then eventually drag them down to their death. The roots were planted there by the first settlers, Pain and Thoughtlessness, and quickly grew out of control. Natives to the area hardly notice them anymore, but their faces and moods show the effects of living with this kind of strain. The only road leaving this state is called Forgiveness. Not to be confused with the super-highway Reconciliation by which people must travel in pairs. Forgiveness can easily be traveled by one and while on this road all wounds are healed.

A very treacherous state is called Addictions. It is characterized by holes. Oddly, the entire topography is made up of holes that need filling. Some of these holes were made in Insecurity, and some in Shame, and moved here. Some folks thought these dangerous holes were for recreation and they fell into them while playing. All the holes in Addiction are deadly and consuming and those who reside here really only have One Way out.

Now about that Way out. I'm sure these descriptions don't exactly read like a travel brochure. I have such exciting news! If you find yourself living in any one of these lonely, bleak places, you qualify for an all-expense-paid trip to one of the locations I will explain in a moment. Surprisingly, you don't have to clean up first, or bring any luggage. In fact, all baggage must be left behind! You don't need to go to any station to board this train. It's called Grace and the cost was a beautiful exchange made once and for everyone. It takes you to exotic and beautiful destinations such as Joy where laughter abounds, Peace where the sky and water are so blue and pure you can't tell where one ends and the other begins, Hope, the promise of a beautiful future, and Forgiveness, the road that is rumored to be very hard work, but truly is just a choice to walk on the path towards Freedom, the ultimate destination.

So what's the catch you ask? There isn't one. Raise the white flag called surrender and Grace arrives. Grace paid for the ticket entitled Jesus, and all you need to do is understand and accept His love. Then just lay down all the baggage and pre-conceived ideas, be willing to leave every single thing behind that could get in the way of Freedom and jump on board. And don't look back.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

A hope injection...

When I get to heaven, after I have spent some serious years in Jesus' arms and perhaps decide that I can come up for air, I will ask him a question. Of course there are all kinds of big, life questions that He may or may not have answered for me by then. That's fine. I don't really need to know. I am a firm believer that He knows what He is doing and I am content to let God be God. I don't need to understand.

But one thing I'm curious about is how much time I spent on earth waiting for Christian. I'm serious. I wait for Christian CONSTANTLY! This is not a complaint, just a statement (no need to switch my bracelet).
I waited for him to ask me out, I waited for him to come home every single day, I wait for him to get off the phone so we can eat, I wait for him to get done in the shower, I wait for him to come home from Europe, I wait for him to call...the list is endless. It really should be one of my job descriptions. Mother, homeschool teacher, piano teacher, chef, laundress, social planner, rememberer of all details (important and not) and waiter for Christian.
When reading that word, one could read "waiter" in a couple different contexts. Both would be appropriate. I wait on him and wait for him. Good thing I love my job! And it doesn't hurt his case that he's so darn cute!

Waiting is a tough thing. Unfortunately, life is chock-full of times of waiting. We wait to be reunited with people we love and miss, we wait 9 months to meet our children, we wait to meet future spouses, we wait for job changes, we wait for answers to prayer.
I wonder if anyone is really good at waiting?
I think sometimes we are better at it than other times. Month 4 of pregnancy is much easier to wait through than month 9! But what are we doing in the waiting? In the meantime.
(definition of meantime: adv. during the intervening time;) I LOVE that!

Well, this leads me to quite possibly my favorite word. HOPE!

(definition of hope: n. A wish or desire accompanied by confident expectation of its fulfillment.)

Tonight, I got a hope injection. Almost two years ago, I got a cello for my birthday. I had been asking for one because all of a sudden, I wanted to play the cello in the worst way. I am pretty sure that inside me is an amazing cellist.
The cello I got was in pretty rough shape. It had no bow and no bridge, which means I couldn't even play with my new toy. It took us until last month to get it in to get fixed, and all that time I waited. It sat in the corner of my bedroom just begging me to allow it to make noise. Finally, about 3 weeks ago, my cello came back to me looking beautiful with its brand new bow and I cried. I was so excited to begin my journey of learning this new instrument I was born to play.

Due to the busy-ness of Spring Break, and a cut on my finger, and just life in general, my cello and I have had about 4 appointments together. Each time I have the opportunity to spend time with it, I am giddy. I just know that the squawks scales and groans harmony my bow is making will be gorgeous music someday. Believe me, my family has to hold on to that hope as well. For now they are in a time of suffering waiting.

But tonight...!! Tonight my girls were singing and playing our new favorite song, Beautiful Things (another song about hope in the waiting), and I grabbed my cello and went out to the piano room and played two gorgeous notes on my cello that sounded simply AMAZING with the piano! I could have cried! There was suddenly hope!! Someday, I will know what I'm doing!!

We simply could not wait for anything if we didn't have hope. Hope is how we begin each day and each prayer. Hope is what starts us on the road toward dreams being realized. Hope is what carries us through when we can't even see the path.

The opposite of hope is a destroyer of life. Hopelessness is the very end of the road and a tragedy. The most miserable person in the saddest conditions can continue through one more day with just the slightest hope that things will get better.

Sometimes all we need is a hope injection. One little thing to remind us that things will get better. That God hasn't forgotten.

Two people that I love deeply are in a serious time of waiting right now. They know that God has amazing things in store for them--dreams and promises just waiting to be fulfilled, but in the meantime, they are just being faithful. They are living from hope injection to hope injection. And in the meantime (while God is intervening), they are waiting on Him.
What if we use those words "wait on God" in two different contexts. While we wait on God, we wait on God. Serve Him, worship Him while we are waiting...

While I'm Waiting. (click for song)

Psalm 130:5 "I am waiting for the Lord. My soul is waiting for Him, and my hope is in His Word."
Psalm 40:1 "When I was waiting for the Lord, His heart was turned to me, and He gave ear to my cry."
Psalms 9:10 "And those who have knowledge of Your name will put their faith in You: because You, Lord have ever given Your help to those who are waiting for You."