Angels Unaware

I have written for a magazine called "Christian Chronicle" so occasionally the editor will send out a call for news, pictures, or thoughts or ideas.

Most recently (that I remember) he relayed his experience (that he VERY eloquently wrote about here) of visiting a congregation and not being greeted very warmly and was curious if we had ever experienced the same thing.

Oh, dear.

I am ALWAYS happy to give my opinion about something, and if it's something that I feel strongly about? Well, you just better make yourself comfortable, because I have got a THING or two to say!

Ten years ago, when our family moved to SmallTown (but with gazillion churches) we encountered the same thing to a degree: no one really speaks to you unless a member forces them to: "HEY! Have you met the Stirmans??? They are moving here! They are looking for a church home!" THEN the light bulb goes off and the friendly switch comes on. We got a little bit of that since my husband was working at one of the largest places in town and we knew a few people in town already.

Ironically, we honestly ended up placing membership at the least friendly church we encountered. But we knew a few people, and knew that we would eventually know more. But, BOY, did we have to WORK to know more!

At one point, very early in our time there, our lives were beyond stressful -- moving to SmallTown was a fiasco in and of itself -- and I sat through one entire Wednesday evening service with tears running down my face and occasionally sobbing. I was in the middle of enough people (and next to Troy) that it was pretty impossible to miss my emotional state.  Not one person inquired to my well being or even offered me a tissue. I began to question our decision to make that our church home -- and I definitely vowed to change how I viewed and treated people I didn't know within the walls of a church building.

Not long after my crying incident, I finally wearied of sitting in a Sunday school class FULL of people -- and none of them talking to me or my husband -- so we offered to help with the college students. That availed us to some people who were willing to get to know us: both the college students and the lovely people who worked with them.

And I began to methodically meet my church family in a very simple, straightforward manner:
"Hi! My name is Sarah. I'm not sure we've met...?" (extending my hand to be shaken by person I don't recognize).

"Are you a member here?"

Sometimes I would meet a member. Sometimes I would meet a visitor. I was still doing that the Sunday before we moved away -- 10 years later -- and when that particular member said her name, I knew who she was, and who she was friends with, but we had never met. I also knew where she sat in first service (due to my previous sign language interpreting) and since I mainly attended second service, we didn't really cross paths.

Yay! I finally met someone that I had been worshiping with for 10 years! That's not embarrassing. That's knowing my church family!

So when we had to up and move to Suburbia -- oye with the starting over looking for churches! It's just so hard.

Here is the article that came from my rant about that.

In short, my portion says that of course, NOW we have "shake and bake" (a term not original to me, but my friend LOVES it that her moniker for the forced time of greeting in church made it into the Christian Chronicle) and people will slap a smile on their face THEN and greet you -- but I can think of several churches we visited where our family very awkwardly stood and chatted with each other while the people around us heartily greeted the people they already knew... and said nothing to us.

People... it isn't hard: do you recognize that face? No? Then introduce yourself!

I had someone say to me: "But that's just in your and Troy's nature..."

Uh, NO! It is not! My nature is to sit and study my cuticles and the pattern on the carpet. I am the definition of an introvert and am really good sitting there. However, my nature IS compassionate, and I know what it feels like to walk into a church and feel like NO ONE cares that you came or went. And it feels really crappy. And heaven forbid anyone feel that way with me sitting looking at my cuticles.

So I reach beyond my nature, extend my hand, and say: "Hi! I'm Sarah! I'm not sure we've met...?"

Now, time for true confessions:

A guy at church was kidding me about that article... yes the one where I complained that no one talked to us at church. As he's talking to me, I'm finding my way to my seat, stepping over a lady I don't recognize. He and I chat about our various experiences with such churches right up until church starts. At the end of church, several of us went up to pray with a family that was leaving to do mission work. I stepped over lady again to get out. At the end of the prayer, I turned and tried to get to her... but she and her daughter were hurrying out the door.

I am fairly certain not one person in that room spoke to her. While I sat next to her talking about that article where I complained about unfriendly churches.

That, boys and girls, is what is known as irony...

And I feel horrible.

However, I have to remind myself: there were 200 people in that room. SOMEONE could have stuck out a hand and said, "Hello! My name is...." But I'm fairly certain no one did. And I doubt we will get a second chance to say hello to her.

“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing.” Hebrews 13:2

Don't Quit

originally published at Word for Today

I am a wanna-be runner. I will train and run and begin to almost feel like a runner, and life, illness, or an injury will set me back. But for whatever reason, I am determined. I will not release the thought of being a runner, so it’s back on the track... so to speak. At least it’s back to the training plan.

Lately it has been a little easier to get back to my plan as I have a very patient running partner. She is consistently ready for me to get back to it, yet understands my need for a break when illness or injury call for it. She won’t let me get away with “I’m just not feeling it today...” because she knows what my ultimate goal is: to be a runner, with maybe a distance race completed eventually. 

Hebrews calls me to the same single-minded dedication to the hope I have: “Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” (Hebrews 10:19-24)

Yes, He who promised is faithful, but there are days that I might lose my grip on my hope. These verses give me two remedies for that. First, “draw near to God with a sincere heart.” That is truly some of the best news in the New Testament -- that we don’t have to take our petitions to God through a priest. These scriptures remind us that Christ gave us the confidence to enter the Most Holy Place, cleansed by his very blood. Nothing can prevent us from doing that on a daily, even hourly, basis.

Sometimes I just don’t have it in me to do that, though. When the unemployment seems to drag on longer than I ever dreamed, or the news from the doctor wasn’t what I hoped it would be, when family news is disappointing or hurtful, sometimes my heart is too broken, too fragile, or too wounded to approach the throne of grace.

That’s when I look to my running partner... or those that “spur me on toward love and good deeds.” God placed us here to be in community so that we may do just that. When I have the strength and energy, it is my time to spur others on toward love and good deeds. Other times, I let those that run this race with me encourage me to simply put one foot in front of the other, to approach the throne of grace.

Let’s run victoriously today.

Starting Over -- One More Time -- and More Perspective

It is looming.

I'm still in my 30's, you know? :-) I am saying that as often as possible because in about 6 weeks I won't be able to say that.

A big birthday is looming. Last year, I wrote about some things I've learned in my 39 years on that birthday (don't expect another list this year -- I may have learned a few things this year, but not 40 more!)

A year ago when I turned 39, I was staring down 40 with my 'fight face'!! It was ON and I was going to win. I made goals for my running and set off to meet them. All went well until.... (cue dreadful music) an injury! Bummer. Recovered from the injury right around New Year's, so I was in the calendar year of the birthday, still staring it down (and from 9 months away). Big plans and goals. I was going to stomp this birthday into the ground, so fit would I be!

Well, again, if you're following along, you know that I have been laid low for weeks at a time battling migraines, then the headaches caused by treating the migraines (go figure). Started surfacing from that conundrum about the time I went on the mission trip with Ashley a few weeks ago, which I returned from with a horrific case of the creeping crud.

Here is where the perspective comes in: for my birthday, I would be so happy to go the whole day without a migraine, and to sleep through the night without a coughing fit. Forget how I look -- though one of those days would probably GREATLY improve the bags under my eyes -- and forget how much or how fast I can run -- that may upset the migraine balance. The battle with minor health problems has made me increasingly grateful for a day that I can go and do what I can when I can. For my 40th birthday, if I can still walk across the street unassisted, I'm good!

Starting over?

It's another Monday, another day that, for this precise moment in time, I feel relatively healthy. I am lacing up my running shoes and starting over. Almost from absolute square one. I wish I knew how many 'do-over' Mondays I've started over with my running this year alone, let alone in my lifetime. Here's the deal: I will not stop. God has granted me one more day, and for today, the health to try to tackle it.

Am I frustrated that the November me (before I got hurt) could run circles around this starting over me? Not really, honestly. I guess there was a moment in time when I spent more time looking back at where I had been, and why can't I still be there, blah, blah. But now that just wastes too much time/ energy. This is where I am. This is today. I do the best I can. I train and run and make the most of today's workout while I can -- I don't know when my health will allow me to do it again. But I can't spend time kicking myself for not being where I was or where I want to be or where I should be.

This is me. Starting over, and grateful for the grace that allows me the day and the health to do it.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Romans 12:1

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22,23

Re-do

I knew as soon as I wrote this about being a generally healthy person, the creeping crud would be lurching off of my keyboard to attack me. It took longer than I thought, but I am indeed, sick of the garden variety. Just a general yukkiness that is punctuated with coughing fits as soon as I lay prone for longer than 12 seconds. I don't run fever -- if I am running fever, I am sick, SICK, SICK, nigh unto death, and get me to a medical professional muy pronto. Alas, I am not running fever, so I still show up and do all that is required of me various and sundry places, trying to keep my groaning to a minimum. At home I do a lot of schlumping around and sighing. Oh, and of course cooking, cleaning, and laundry. Stupid fever never shows up when I need it.

So, I am going to run a blog re-run for today -- from a time when I had actual thoughts inside my head. Enjoy. I'll be on the couch reading a magazine and calling it "research" for a writing project. And sighing.

Run the Race
by Sarah Stirman

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. (Hebrews 12:1 NIV)

This passage from the book of Hebrews has always been one of my favorite verses. In the few-and-far-between seasons of my life when I am a runner, I love to meditate on this verse as I run. Life is a race -- A marathon! -- and I am so encouraged to think of the great cloud of witnesses that surrounds me.

The phrase in the version with which I am familiar reads "the sin that so easily entangles." This phrase kind of tripped me up. To me it sounded as if sin is a creeping vine that seems friendly, enticing, and harmless until you realize that you’re in too deep and helplessly stuck.

While I know that’s true of sin in so many ways, it didn’t fit with the running analogy to me. Most runners I know avoid running through foliage. Also sin, in my own personal experience, is much more like a wrecking ball in the cartoons than it is like a vine -- creeping or otherwise. By the time I have identified the sin (wrecking ball), I am lying flat on my back, complete with stars and birdies circling my head, wondering how I got there.

However, more recently I have come to think of this phrase in a new way. I am struggling with forgiveness -- even somewhat struggling with laying down the badge that identifies me as "someone wronged." I know this is not the life Christ has called me to embrace, yet I battle with finally laying down this burden of another’s sin. I have prayed and thought and meditated about why this is so difficult to let go.

I recently prayed asking God to let me run this race victoriously. That’s when this verse came to mind: I must throw off the sin that so easily entangles! Sometimes I cling to my past sins and let them weigh me down. Sometimes I cling to another’s sin against me and let that weigh me down. It’s impossible to run with perseverance the race marked out before me if I am clinging to all of the burdens of the past -- my own or anyone else’s. Christ calls me to run victoriously and I can’t do that with my hands full of old junk. It hinders me and I must lay it down if I want to run the race ... victoriously.

The apostle Paul gives us this victory thanksgiving: "But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him." (2 Corinthians 2:14) I love to think of the "triumphal procession" as the time we are being led in as a victory parade after we have finished our race victoriously. We already know who wins this race. Now, let’s run it victoriously!

Posted: 04/26/2006URL: http://www.heartlight.org/articles/200604/20060426_runtherace.html

Who Will Move the Stone?

In the study "No Other Gods" by Kelly Minter, Kelly leads us to realize that our God is the God of all gods. She pointed us to what I believe to be one of the most disturbing accounts in the Bible: when God tests Abraham by callling him to sacrifice his son, Isaac. (Read the whole account here, in Genesis 22:1-19)

Abraham dutifully set out to obey God's shocking and seemingly nonsensical command. On the way, Isaac, not missing what was going on around him said, " "The fire and wood are here, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?" (v. 7) Abraham sounds as if he has mighty faith when he replies: "God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son."(v.8). I have frequently wondered what was going through Abraham's mind when he replied to Isaac. Did he have any idea what would happen -- that God would prevent him from killing Isaac, but a sacrificial ram would be caught in the nearby brush? Did he think that God had already provided the 'lamb' -- and Abraham was walking with him? What was he thinking? Did he really believe that God would provide?

Hebrews 11 tells us that he really did -- he just had a different train of thought than what happened:

17By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had received the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son, 18even though God had said to him, "It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned." 19Abraham reasoned that God could raise the dead, and figuratively speaking, he did receive Isaac back from death. Hebrews 11:17-19

This gives me a different image in my head: Abraham knew that God had it. Abraham had no doubt as to God's power. There may have even been a part of Abraham that couldn't WAIT to see God do His thing and raise his son -- yet another reason not to bring along the Mrs.

Less than amused she would be, I might assume.

I have claimed Abraham's reply for many things lately: God will provide the lamb. God will provide.

Not too long ago, Preacher Phil pointed out Mark 16:3, as the women were on the way to the tomb of the crucified Christ. They were still going, but they wondered "Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?" Most of us know that they showed up and it was already done for them. The same God who allowed his son to die a brutal death to be a blood sacrifice for our thoughtless and/ or willful sins, flicked a finger to move an impossible stone. Phil asked us, "What stone do you need moved in your life?"

It made me think of a loved one who is watching her son struggle with addiction -- and pick it up again and put it down again, over and over. Who will move her stone?

Dear people have legal wranglings and money matters and broken relationships that could potentially wipe out any financial planning for retirement they have done. Who will move that stone?

What about waiting for medical results that seem only logical to be horrible?
Or 'bankruptcy' and 'foreclosure' seem the only option?
The money is gone, but not everyone is paid?
The hurt is too awful to forgive, the sin too monstrous to redeem?

Who will move those stones?

God will provide.

It sounds trite, but sometimes it's the only answer I can depend on.

Mary-Minded

Same song, next verse, eight months later. Last night my 10 year old son and I experienced a feeling of déjà vu as we traveled to the same emergency room to have the same foot x-rayed so a (different!) doctor could tell us that he had fractured his ankle the same way he did eight months ago. Same injury, different season. Now, instead of trying to figure out how to keep toes warm in 40* weather, we have to figure out how to keep a cast dry in swimming pool season. This too shall pass.

Of course our emergency room visit took a while and we got home at bedtime needing to eat dinner. By the time we ate and medicated and propped the foot in bed, I just wanted to collapse in my own bed. Collapse I did, but sleep wouldn’t come. I kept thinking of the injury. Even though we witnessed indescribable grief and pain at the hospital, I could only think of my own baby boy and his painful injury. I kept replaying the moment in my mind over and over. I didn’t even see it happen – only heard the awful wails after the fact – but I pieced together in my mind what he relayed had happened and watched it like a movie stuck on the same loop.

I finally crawled out of bed to find a new image to put in my brain. I grabbed my Bible, curled up in my chair, and started reading. “Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother…” (John 19:25) That’s as far as I could go. I thought of the horrific images Mary must have had burned into her brain. I imagined the black days between Friday and Sunday. Her baby boy lay motionless behind the stone and she longed to think of him as the pink, squishy newborn she had nursed or as the precocious young man in the temple speaking wisdom. But she couldn’t shake the image of the broken body on the cross. Was her joy complete when she saw him whole again – or could she only think of the tortured body on the cross? He forgave me for my sin that kept him nailed there – I wonder if she ever did?

Mary probably never struggled to grasp the enormity of what it cost for her to have eternal life. There was likely never a communion meal of remembrance that Mary composed a shopping list in her head or counted the minutes until the restaurant opened. The image of her own baby boy broken and nailed to a cross was a picture in a locket forever in her brain. Each moment of remembrance was filled with agony of the memory combined with flooding gratitude for what it means for each of us.

May I be Mary-minded and walk in constant remembrance and gratitude of the precious lamb of God sacrificed so that I may be pure before the throne of God.

How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal
Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts
that lead to death so that we may serve the living God! Hebrews 9:14

Run the Race

by Sarah Stirman
on heartlight

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. (Hebrews 12:1 NIV)

This passage from the book of Hebrews has always been one of my favorite verses. In the few-and-far-between seasons of my life when I am a runner, I love to meditate on this verse as I run. Life is a race — A marathon! — and I am so encouraged to think of the great cloud of witnesses that surrounds me.

The phrase in the version with which I am familiar reads "the sin that so easily entangles." This phrase kind of tripped me up. To me it sounded as if sin is a creeping vine that seems friendly, enticing, and harmless until you realize that you’re in too deep and helplessly stuck.

While I know that’s true of sin in so many ways, it didn’t fit with the running analogy to me. Most runners I know avoid running through foliage. Also sin, in my own personal experience, is much more like a wrecking ball in the cartoons than it is like a vine — creeping or otherwise. By the time I have identified the sin (wrecking ball), I am lying flat on my back, complete with stars and birdies circling my head, wondering how I got there.

However, more recently I have come to think of this phrase in a new way. I am struggling with forgiveness — even somewhat struggling with laying down the badge that identifies me as "someone wronged." I know this is not the life Christ has called me to embrace, yet I battle with finally laying down this burden of another’s sin. I have prayed and thought and meditated about why this is so difficult to let go.

I recently prayed asking God to let me run this race victoriously. That’s when this verse came to mind: I must throw off the sin that so easily entangles! Sometimes I cling to my past sins and let them weigh me down. Sometimes I cling to another’s sin against me and let that weigh me down. It’s impossible to run with perseverance the race marked out before me if I am clinging to all of the burdens of the past — my own or anyone else’s. Christ calls me to run victoriously and I can’t do that with my hands full of old junk. It hinders me and I must lay it down if I want to run the race ... victoriously.

The apostle Paul gives us this victory thanksgiving: "But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him." (2 Corinthians 2:14) I love to think of the "triumphal procession" as the time we are being led in as a victory parade after we have finished our race victoriously. We already know who wins this race.

Now, let’s run it victoriously!

Originally published April 26, 2006.