An interview with two Enneagram 2’s: The Helper.
Even the strongest people need help and the world just wouldn’t function without Helpers.
It’s not about getting life right it’s about getting God.
Do you know someone who identifies as a “Reformer” or are you one? We’d love to hear how this interview with two 1’s resonates with you. Get to know Worship Leader Rebecca Boganwright and Executive Director of Operations Brian Chellette as they get to know themselves a little better.
It’s hard to say where my day begins because so often one day blurs into the next with an inability to find restful sleep. You see I have a pretty intense arthritis that’s keeps me not just from finding rest but at this point in the progression of the disease, I am rarely ever able to escape the pain that comes from the damage that has been done to my body.
I share all of this not to evoke a response from you but to share that I write my story from the place of deep struggle and hurt. Continue reading Am I Willing?
At first glance it’s easy to see that the bible has been well used. The corners of the brown leather cover appear old and worn, exposing the cardboard underneath. Many of the pages are crumpled or torn and others are starting to curl at the edges. The binding is almost completely separated from the cover, held together by a homemade patch job that appears to be the work of someone adept at using a hot glue gun. Open the pages and you’re immediately drawn to the handwritten notes on every page, complete with dates and often accompanied by prayers that reflect a personal intimacy with God we all long for but rarely experience.
If you continue to flip through the pages you’ll discover a picture tucked away among these passionate prayers and priceless wisdom. It too is worn, not from age but rather from being held close, like a prized possession that it’s owner refuses to put down. Through the smudged fingerprints you’ll see the picture of a skinny teenager, dressed in khaki pants and a navy blazer, smiling awkwardly and trying to pretend he’s cool. But it’s only when you turn the picture over that the real treasure is revealed. On the back of the picture written in blue ink is a prayer. And although the ink has begun to fade the prayer still echoes as clear and true as it did when it was first written. “Take his life and let it be, consecrated Lord to thee.” The bible is my grandma’s, the picture is mine, and the words are the prayer she has fervently and faithfully brought before God on my behalf every day for the last 18 years. Continue reading The Power Of A Praying Parent
“Hey Merea. Since Pastor Matt is talking about singleness this weekend, would you share your thoughts on singleness with the blog readers?”
Welp. Sure. I don’t love being the spokesperson for the single life. Can I be a spokesperson for something else? Ha.
Friends. Let’s be real right off the bat here. That’s our vision right? Hope that’s okay.
If I could have, I would have gotten married at 23. But the right man didn’t come along at that point. And I’ve dated some guys, some real great ones, some real not so great ones, made lots of mistakes along the way. Even in my 30s now, I find myself still making efforts to do the right thing, still making mistakes, still need God and His grace like crazy. Continue reading Undivided Devotion
Watching my parents growing up, it seemed that marriage was pretty simple. They loved each other no matter what and stayed together with never a word of divorce. My wife Becca experienced the same thing. Consistency and seemingly relative ease. As we began dating, we heard many people refer to their marriages in terms like “the old ball and chain, the old lady”, and other degrading terms that were just jokes but seemed to accurately encapsulate the reality of their marriage. We were determined to be different and since we were both Christians, we figured we would soar. Continue reading Building A Real Marriage
It’s difficult to turn on the TV or scroll through social media without seeing another breaking news story about sexual assault and someone in a position of power. If your mind is full of questions and frustrations, ours is too.
This weekend, we’re joining the conversation to talk about God’s heart for the abused and how to get help when it feels like life is anything but good. If you know someone eager for answers about where God is in all of this, invite them to a location. Pastor Matt Brown will be facilitating an essential conversation about sexual abuse with his wife Tammy Brown and Sandals Church worship leader Christina Crowley.
Our blog this week highlights some of Christina’s story…
I was 7 years old the first time I heard the three little words, “Don’t tell anyone.” Little did I know those words would become the bricks I would use to build my walls of self-protection. Continue reading Don’t Tell Anyone!
Several weeks ago, Pastor Matt gave the campus pastors inspiration for a New Year’s Eve weekend service focused on prayer. Something he said stuck with me: “Forget what we’ve done, forget what we’re doing…we need God to move…I want our church to get on our knees and pray.” Yes and amen, pastor!
The idea here is clear: if we want God to move, we need to pray. And this is biblical. The passage that forms the structure of this weekend’s service is 2 Chronicles 7:14-16 (NLT):
Then if my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sins and restore their land. My eyes will be open and my ears attentive to every prayer made in this place. For I have chosen this Temple and set it apart to be holy—a place where my name will be honored forever. I will always watch over it, for it is dear to my heart.
If… Grammatically speaking, this 2-letter word typically forms the beginning of a conditional statement. In this translation, the “then” that typically follows the “if” is not present, but it is implied. If my people who are called by my name…then I will…
Understanding conditional statements such as this in scripture is important because we spend a lot of time waiting on God to move in our direction, on our behalf, to bless us or show us the way or answer our prayer. And this, too, is biblical (see Isaiah 40:31, ESV). But, a lot of times, I believe God is waiting on us to move in his direction. One of my favorite examples of this is a crucial exchange between Moses and God as the Israelites are stuck between two impossibilities: the Egyptian army behind them and the Red Sea ahead of them. The Israelites are freaking out, Moses is telling them to chill out, and then this: “The LORD said to Moses, ‘Why do you cry to me?’ Tell the people of Israel to go forward” (Exodus 14:15, NLT). This was not the time to wait on God. This was the time for them to move forward in faith, per the instruction God had already given them.
So, how do we move forward as we anticipate 2018? In the 2 Chronicles passage, we are to move toward God by a) humbling ourselves (i.e. recognizing that God is God and we are not); b) praying; c) seeking his face (i.e. becoming aware of the presence of God in and around us); and d) turning from our wicked ways (i.e. repenting from our sins). If we do this, then we can be sure that God is always faithful to do his part. Whatever follows the “then I will…” is as good as done. And who doesn’t want God to “hear from heaven, forgive their sins, and restore their land?”
However, there is one very significant difference between the context for the 2 Chronicles passage and where we stand today. In 2 Chronicles, King Solomon was leading the Israelites in a dedication ceremony for the first, magnificent temple built in Jerusalem. This was to be the singular, unique space for the presence of God to manifest and dwell. The Hebrew word shekinah captures this concept. As followers of Jesus, we experience a grand and mysterious reality that words simply cannot articulate: our physical bodies are now the temple of the Most High God.
This brings beautiful, New Testament meaning to verse 16: “For I have chosen this Temple and set it apart to be holy—a place where my name will be honored forever. I will always watch over it, for it is dear to my heart.” God has chosen us. God has set us apart to be holy. We are the very place where the name of Jesus is to be honored forever. God will always watch over us, for we…are dear to his heart.
As Sandals Church moves toward God in prayer this weekend, are you ready to humble yourself, pray, seek his face, and turn from your wicked ways with us? Then, we will see God move in and through us, the temple of the living God. And what a sight to behold that will be! Let’s do this, church.
The stars were as freckles on the cheeks of the night sky. They danced and hummed like neon; like a vacancy sign. Being a bit nosey, the moon bled its secondhand sunlight through the top of the stable. Reflecting off of a newborn’s eyes that were but minutes old. Underneath those eyes was a tiny chest. Rising and falling.
Inside that tiny chest was a little heart pushing blood to a multitude of organs. A miniature liver, a brand new stomach, and a very young brain to name a few. The baby, a boy, was getting sleepy as he rubbed his eyes. Fingerprints, unique to him, pressed into his finally subdued tear ducts. Showing his gums to the room, he yawned largely.
Also in the stable was a woman and man. The woman was clutching the newborn and rubbing the fuzz on his head. Afterbirth and blood had dried and bound the hay and dirt to her legs and feet. She didn’t mind though, as fatigue was calling her toward sleep. It had already come for the man as he was asleep next to her, propped up against the wall of the shelter.
She got up, feeling how tight her muscles had become and shuffled to one of the mangers. Lowering the baby into the manger, she pulled tight his blanket. Not soon after she waddled back to her spot next to her man the three of them all fell asleep for the night. As the three slept off the night’s events, the outside was peeking in from holes in the roof and walls. It felt as if God was breathing over them and playing metronome for their dreams.
Wretch that I am, with red hands outward, this is the gift that found me. Fashioned cell by cell, in a virgin’s womb and delivered in a manger of hay. This first Christmas’ present was not concealed by wrapping paper nor fanciful bag. There were no bows on my undeserving endowment.
God Himself was made into a human being and born into this world. I rack my brain in search of words that are better to make that statement explode off of the page. There are none that I know. The beginning and end took on a pulse, accepted a mouth full of teeth, to reach me. To reach us.
Magnitude that steps outside of space and around time made himself into an eight pound infant. The hands that knit together DNA, the ones that pulled up mountains and pressed down oceans, became flesh and bone. As a gift, the highest of high was born low for us.
I can’t help but wonder what was worse for God the father that night, the chosen inability to silence the baby’s tears or the known eventuality of his life. For this was the header of a love letter to be punctuated with torture and death. The manger would give way to the cross.
I can’t help but wonder what it felt like to send him to us. Was it like a good friend moving out of state? Was it like a daughter being walked down the aisle? Was it like a son going off to war? Perhaps it was something like we will never know. Perhaps we should be thankful for that.
I can’t help but wonder if it was worth it. I know what evil we are capable of. Things that I have said and the things that I have done have been as spit on that gift. I have refused the present and I have left it unopened. Did you know that as you sent him still? Did you see me refuse it the hundred times before I accepted it? Did it make you think twice?
As I write this now I am looking at ornaments on the Christmas tree in my living room. Each one of them a different memory, a different story. A couple of them are beautiful and made out of blown glass or polished ceramic. Most of them, however, are ugly. They are made out of paper, plastic, and some other mystery material better to be left unknown.
The ugly ones, those are my favorite. They stick out like beacons of light on a foggy coast and they direct my thoughts to memories to very safe havens. Telling stories unique to my life, my story, and my family they make me feel at home. Collectively on the living room evergreen and radiating their worth.
I like to think that God thinks of us, believers, this same way. I like to think that we are all bound together by a tree and safe inside God’s living room. My hope is that God looks at all of us and is flooded with memories of love and adoration. The pretty ones, right next to the ugly ones all equally enjoyed by the one who dressed the tree.
Down at the bottom at the foundation of the tree is a gift. The gift is wrapped in a stable with holes in the roof and walls. It is held in a manger filled with hay. There are three people sleeping inside of it. A man, a woman, and a perfect little boy.
Reflect on this…