Tag Archives: Jesus

My [imperfect] church

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After Sunday’s service, there was an endearing exchange that occurred at the back of the church. An elder was praising our girl for her great game on Friday night. Jokingly, I asked him if she was now speaking to him. The reason for the ribbing was her “insistence” that he jinxed her team when he came to root for her in his town wearing that town’s fan gear. She said she was going to blame him for their addition to the “L” column. Despite the bad apparel choice, he cheered for her team (and her specifically) the entire game. All of this playful teasing was followed with raucous laughter, lined with appreciation, love and support – and of course, basketball advice.

I have purposefully waited a few days to let the words in my previous blog ruminate in all our hearts. My intention was to share that no church anywhere is perfect, because they are full of sinners. If you are looking for the perfect church, you won’t find it because all are filled with imperfect people. My writing was also to proclaim that a veil had been lifted from my myopic vision. God showed me how I contributed to the problem, keeping me from my heart’s desire is to encourage others in their faith.

I don’t want to be a stumbling block or obstacle – which required me to take a long look in the mirror of my soul and get real with God. Rather than forgiving, I internalized hurts and perpetuated a problem. I do have a fervent wish to love without reservation – just like Jesus did, and in my inner recesses, I think he would be grieved by how we who love him have turned away both the lost and the found by our actions.

Many years ago, I had a friend who believed in Jesus but never attended church. She would always quote Matthew 18:20 (For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them. [NIV] ) as her reasoning. Whenever I asked if she would like to go, she would respond that churches were full of hypocrites. Well that is true, but I didn’t really feel like our shopping trips and fun excursions counted as church. I know Jesus was in our midst, but that didn’t fill my longing for church.

This is not a condemnation of anyone’s views or church attendance patterns. This is more a love story of how a collective group imperfect people work together to encourage each other in God’s love and what that means to me, personally.

When our darkest hour happened, the first people to rally around were church people – our own and those from sister churches. I could write a tome on all the kindnesses that have been extended to us over the last six (has it really been that long???) years. Those acts of being the hands and feet of God were forever etched in my heart. Church, however, is so much more than Sunday morning service and helping out when a hardship hits.

SO. MUCH. MORE.

We eat together, serve together, craft together, study together, pray together, love together, and mourn together. Basically, we just do life which includes the messy stuff too.

Do we fail each other? Yes, but we forgive and reconcile. Like the time, Reed learned the hard way that casting the first stone might break the nursery window. The grace extended to him in that incident embodied encouragement and understanding. For me, Hebrews 10:25 let us not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another [NIV] is more in line with why my church matters to me.

Encouragement. We all need it.

Do we forget that verse sometimes? Yes, I am afraid we do, but when the Holy Spirit convicts our hearts, we return with repentant attitudes.

One of my favorites is how much we laugh together which I know has to be music to Jesus’ ears. Young and old – we really know how to fellowship. From quilting bees to freezer meals and from campfires to game nights, there isn’t a moment where you would not find some chuckles to be shared. Some jokes just seem to never grow old either.

The Herdmans in the The Best Worst Christmas Pageant Ever have nothing on us, as one year an exuberant preschooler hit the lit advent wreath which flung up in the air in what appeared to be slow motion before it came to rest – thankfully extinguished – at the base of the organ.

This, of course, is second to the pageant where the wiggly preschooler fell off the stage and was wedged upside down with only his feet showing between the piano and the alter area while the soloist lived up to the slogan, “The show must go on!”

Our senior pastor is often at the helm of many of those jokes as he encourages us to laugh with (and frankly sometimes at) him. Not many can say their spiritual leader has attended parties dressed as an octogenarian to celebrate someone being “over the hill”. He was also one of the chief cheerleaders as our Boy Wonder healed from surgeries, and his prowess with Nerf Dart Gun attacks on stacks of Styrofoam cups would awe anyone.

crockpot

We clip newspaper articles of each other’s children, exchange high fives, bake cakes for funerals, make jello molds (something I thought I would never do), exchange recipes, know who made what food for the potluck based solely on the crockpot, send letters and notes, (and laugh when we put the wrong card in the wrong envelope), create new traditions, cuddle babies, make quilts, sing Hallelujahs, hug and wipe away tears, help you pick up the pieces when life seems shattered . . . all out of love. A love for a God who made us all family even with all our flaws and imperfections!

So it was last Sunday, loved exuded as three generations of God’s people gathered around the back pew to laugh about the familiarity of friendship and the love of a game. No we aren’t perfect, but we are all trying to love God and love others. Somehow that just feels like home.

Not at my table

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Twice on my trip to Kentucky, I was invited to dine at the home of one of the most adorable Sunday school teachers.  Cloaked inside her petite exterior is one of the biggest hearts I have ever met. A heart that has been equipped with the gift of hospitality which made my own heart do flipper-de-loos each time I crossed the steps into her adorable cottage style home.

Lovingly known as “Miss E” to some, she has a personality that draws near.  (On a side note, she is a teacher (not just on Sundays), and I have long been drawn to other lovers of learning.) Her humble home just exudes “Come on in. Sit a spell. And the proverbial Southern favorite, “Y’all eaten yet?”.

On that last one, she didn’t have to ask because we were invited there for that very reason.  Well, that and of course, good old-fashioned girl time.  One night we even had dinner and a movie – a chick flick with pizza and tissues.  All girls will get that combination.

Clearly a proud momma, her decor consisted of artwork done by her very talented children.  Rooms filled with a delightful mix of family heirlooms and inviting, cushioning chairs beckoned my soul to slow down and relax.  All of it beautiful without being showy.

But there was something present that the eye could not see, but the spirit could certainly feel.  This home – this communion of souls – was filled with the grace that only can be found when God’s love is present.

One moment will be forever etched in my memory.  For our first dinner it was requested that we bring our own beverages to accompany the meal.  Grabbing our favorite drinks – a Coke in a bottle and McD’s sweet tea in the Styrofoam cup – we happily arrived feeling we were allowed to add something to the evening’s experience.

As we gathered at the table, Miss E informed us that we could place our beverages in the goblets already on the table.  One among us protested that wasn’t necessary.  In a gentle but firm reply, we were informed that at her home we WOULD NOT be using those containers.

As my Mama would say, “We are not common people”.  That old saying was fitting here. We were not just guests. No! We were beloved sisters in Christ – blessed with the gift of friendship.

Looking back, I realized that someday that’s how it will be at Jesus’ table.  Imagine it! He will want only the best setting  for his girls.  All the junk (rage, bitterness, fear, worry, doubt) we allow into our lives really doesn’t belong at His table anyway.  I don’t think Jesus cares about the quality of the china, but he does cars about the way we approach the table. It is the effort that we give to each other through his grace that matters. If that (like Miss E’s glasses) is how we come together, then the dining will be divinely appointed!

Not so long ago at the table of one sweet lady, I was served with Southern hospitality and dined, grace-filled, like royalty.

Comforted to know I really am, and thankful to have been reminded.

 

Miss E and I waiting for my train to arrive

Miss E and I waiting for my train to arrive

 

 

The day I had wine with Jesus

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communion cupA few years ago, my family took a spring break trip to Florida to visit my sister and brother-in-law.  It was a mild winter, but the warmth and the Florida sun (which I miss most days) were welcome hosts.  We had plans to attend one of the theme parks, and I REALLY wanted to go to the Holy Land Experience (which for lack of a better description is a theme park without rides).   I learned about HLE the year before when we were stuck in traffic trying to get to dress fittings for my sister’s wedding.  My Nannie bursting with joy said, “I really want to go there someday!” (Sadly, she never did, but she walks the streets of gold today.)

We were just going to go for the morning, but we kept finding more shows or more things to see and do that we stayed the whole day. Our party included three generations who all enjoyed themselves. I didn’t really intend for this to be a travelogue; so, you will have to check out the website if you want to learn more.

Our visit coincided with Easter week.  We had heard over the radio and internet to arrive early that they were expecting record attendance for such an important week for Christians.  They were not wrong, but my fear of crowds didn’t really overwhelm me there.  (The theme park was another story.)

As today we mark the anniversary of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples, I wanted to share my experience of dining with Jesus.  At HLE, one of the opportunities you have is to have communion with “Jesus” – an actor who humbly takes on that role.  My inner skeptic was a little leery, but from the moment I stepped inside the cave style dwelling, my imagination allowed me to transport myself to a time many years ago.  Each person – man, woman, and child – is given a beautiful little cup carved from olive wood from the actual Holy Land (not the one in downtown Orlando).

“Jesus” talks with everyone, engaging both in his words and his eyes.  He literally serves you bread and wine, and he blesses everyone there as he prays for the group as a whole.  It was a mesmerizing experience – one that my children recall fondly.  I remember having tears in my eyes because I knew that this actor was soon to be playing His role in the Passion.  I knew the story by heart before that encounter, but it felt so much more real knowing that the “Jesus” with me was soon to be handed over.

Most of the other souvenirs from that trip have either been outgrown or garage sale fodder, but not those little wooden cups.  We each still have them and lovingly we bring them out each Easter as a remembrance of the time we had wine with Jesus.

Precious memories. . . indeed!

Jesus and his peeps

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I found this picture on hypervocal.com. I would love to credit the original creator. It is not listed on their site.

Jesus & Judas – I found this picture on hypervocal.com. I would love to credit the original creator. It is not listed on their site and it is stunning work.

When Clo was just over a year old, Reed taught her to say “What up my peeps?”.  Seeing that curly-headed bundle of sweetness toddle around saying such a thing made anyone within earshot burst into laughter.  It was one of the first things my future brother-in-law heard my kids say. Big brothers, argh!

A quick look at my Facebook account reveals that I am just shy of my own 400 peeps. (I’m not actually counting, and I had to go look it up.)  I have been blessed with such amazing friends that my cup runneth over.  Some of the KF’s (Kandy’s Friends) I have only met once and others I have never met in person but business dealings have connected us across the miles.  I epitomize the saying that it isn’t what you have but who you have in your life. A closer look would find that there is an inner sanctum – the tight circle of besties that are there for me before I even need to send out the bat signal. Yet missing in that number are a few who have brought me heartache through the years, and though I have forgiven them I just haven’t been able to stick my heart back into their drama.  For some of those relationships it took me years to realize that we weren’t good for each other. I read a book once that in a nutshell brought relief to this girl’s heart and soul.  The author relayed that God calls us to forgive those that hurt us, but He doesn’t call us to live with basement dwellers – those that perpetually bring us down.  That simple statement was freeing to me.

A while back I went with a friend whom I admire to our church’s regional women’s leadership conference.  One of the speakers was a really young priest (I forget which denomination), but she was a dynamic speaker.  She spoke on the thousands that came to see Jesus, but that mostly he was surrounded by a group of close friends. Later, she talked about those hurts committed against us by those closest to us.  This is something that I really understand.  What came out of her mouth next totally shocked me.  “Jesus gets it.  He gets when someone you love lets you down and hurts you deeply.  Remember – here she paused and lowered her voice – he only ended with 11 friends because one of them (Judas) defaulted.”

What did she just say?  Her words rained down like a soothing balm to my soul.  The point of her talk was a reminder to take our hurts before the Lord of Lords because he understood hurt and betrayal.  I love Jesus, and I love “talking” to Him, but never once in forty years had I thought about that He too was let down by his friend.  And not just once either – Thomas doubted, Peter denied and those are only the examples of the ones we know about.

Jesus laughed and cried with his friends (not just the disciples).  The sweetest verse to me is John 11:35 Jesus wept (NIV) when he learned of his friend Lazarus death. That verse reminds me that he did hurt emotionally. His heart leapt when He celebrated with His friends.  He rejoiced. He attended weddings and parties, and He stayed up late just talking with His friends.  He also retreated, prayed, rested, and loved.

Hey – wait a minute!  We do all those same things, but seldom do we stop and think that Jesus – in His humanness – did a lot of stuff with his friends just like us.  Why did I never stop to think that he too was hurt by them as well? As Easter is approaching, we remember that Jesus was fully God and that he took on the sins of the world, but we forget that he was also fully human, feeling the same things you and I experience.

He was wounded by humanity, but his heart was wounded by one close to him first.  Simply the sweet little priest was right; Jesus gets it. When we are hurt or wounded, we really can turn to him.  He’s there with open arms and listening ears. Although, I don’t think he would really say it, it might be easier to reach out if we envision him saying, “What up my peep?”  You never can tell . . .

A new beginning

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christmas angel

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:

. . .  a time to plant Ecc 3: 1, 3a (NIV)

 These verses in Ecclesiastes have been some of my favorites for years.  Today they couldn’t be more fitting.  I am happy to announce that I am following a dream that God planted, watered, and tended in my life.  But just like any great garden, I am starting out small and building from there.  Starting today, Kandy Noles Stevens Ministries and “got grace? events” begins.

This dream began about this time a year ago, and more details on how it came to fruition can be found in my newsletter released today on Facebook.  This is an exciting time in our lives, and it also one that we want to be very careful that we cling close to the hem of Jesus’ garments to know that we truly are following where He leads us.

What does this change for my family?  Right now, not much other than I will be taking some weekends away to spend writing the books that have been slowly coming together.  It will also mean some travel as several churches have called asking for me to come and share my stories.  My blog will continue to be my thoughts and family’s experiences. The reality is none of this would be possible without friends speaking God’s truth in my life and praying that I would be smart enough and bold enough to take the first step.

I’m still me – the girl next door who loves her kids and husband, who laughs at herself, and who loves wearing floppy hats in the garden.  I love watching a good football game, snuggling puppies, and donning jeans and baseball hats, but I can pull off pearls while sipping iced tea on a porch with Southern charm.  But above all of that, I am just a girl who LOVES Jesus and who appreciates all He and His dad have done for me.

So even though this is not at all how I pictured my life, clearly they have a much better plan than I ever did.  With each day, my excitement builds as I learn slowly to let go and see what blessing is around the corner.

Since right now, this is a very small operation consisting of myself and a dear friend working as my assistant, ministry partner, and sister in Christ, we just ask for prayers.  Please pray that we are earnestly seeking God’s direction and that we are obedient to his plans.

It took us at least 5 months to settle on a name, and I want to share how much of a family operation this is.  When he was in the 4th grade, Sawyer was working on his God & Country supplemental badge for Cub Scouts.  There are a series of faith activities that the Scout and his family complete together.  One of those activities involved dissecting the verses from the second chapter of Luke.  We worked on this side-by-side, talking through each one.  When we got to Luke 2:52,

And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men. (NIV)

I asked him how did Jesus grow?  You could almost see the wheels turning in his head.  (Remember he was smaller than me back then.)  His answers went something like this:

“Mom, he got smarter! And, he got bigger. And . . . and . . . (now with a perplexed look on his face) he got grace?”

That moment took place over six years ago, and I still haven’t forgotten it.  That same favor extended to His one and only Son is available to everyone.  Even in the deepest, darkest, moments, He is there simply waiting to be asked in.  The comforter, healer, and friend is a big part of my story.   Yet, that is the amazing thing about my story. It is only through the  abundant, lavish,  grace of Jesus Christ that I have been able to take my mess and make it a message. 

Thank you for being a part of the journey.

Kandy

If you have not already received the newsletter and would like to receive one, please e-mail us at mominmn75@gmail.com.

 

A letter to my son

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For the book contest give-away, please see the February 15 post.

Reed  – I can hardly believe four years ago at this hour, I was still trying to figure out where you were.  No answers were coming, and my heart was frantic after seeing the story in another mother’s eyes.  Yet, I clung to the hope only found in Jesus that you were okay.  I simply didn’t (and still don’t) know any other way to operate.  And even though, Daddy and I (along with Sawyer, Erin, and Cloie) didn’t receive the news we wanted, God still provides!  He provides the blessings of friendships, memories, hugs, and sometimes more than anything else, rest. 

 

In these four years, we have tried our very best to remember and honor your most important legacy of loving God with all our hearts, souls, and minds.  And I think that you would look down and smile at the ripples in the pond that your death created not only in our lives but in the lives of family, friends, and strangers. 

 

Just to give you a quick update of those ripples:

 

  • Many have shared that because of the faith of one sweet little redhead that they got right with God and are DEFINITELY going to see you in heaven now.  (Even if we never know the full story this side of heaven, this news is incredibly comforting.)
  • Your dog and best friend continues to touch the lives of others when he goes to visit friends at nursing homes.  The love you poured into him through the countless hours spent together shows in the way he gingerly and tenderly gives back.
  • The best friend who you spent most hours with is an awesome guy who I know you would still be proud to call your friend.
  • The best friend who shared your faith is probably one of the most live out loud Christians I know and is also a tireless worker at Reed’s Run.
  • The best friend who shared your church has grown into the most amazing prayer warrior and quiet leader.
  • Many other friends continue to share the difference that you made simply by being you, and now they, too, are making their own ripples.
  • Your love of reading lives on in a reading program up north at a daycare we chose to adopt. 
  • Your love of Star Wars is known far and wide.  People still joke and laugh about your send off.

 

Things are not always rosy. But when we feel sad and blue, some sweet person will send us a tangible reminder of God’s love, or we will hear that beautiful cardinal sing.  It’s then that we know that God is present in the here and now, and He is big enough to withstand our doubts, worries, and grief. 

 

When I look at your siblings, I am often reminded of the tangled web of emotions that you shared with each of them.  Those unique relationships are the impetus of your legacy cheetah program.  I can tell you that Sawyer’s comedy routines have only gotten better with time, and that you would hate them (because he still gets big laughs around here).  Erin has moved a long way past her first days of learning to shoot hoops.  She no longer has a “Laura, Mary, Carrie wind-up” to just be able to get the ball through the hoop.  And yes, we still cheer just as loud as we did back in the driveway with the “Ingalls” girls.  And Cloie, oh Reed, you would not believe how much of you is a part of her.  Her passion for learning and her heart for loving others are identical to yours.  She even has your penchant for opening the wrong side of the parmesan cheese.  Oopsies! 

 

Reed time doesn’t heal all wounds.  Despite what some think, we have closed on houses and business deals, but we will never close on our children.  With that said however, each and every day that we miss you, we know that God knows exactly what it is like to lose a Son.  He knows our pain intimately.  This past year we have decided as we bring a close to Reed’s Run the theme will be “To rise from tragedy, cling to HOPE.”  Every day, we choose to do exactly that, knowing in heaven to you it will be a blink of eye when you see us again.

 

Always proud to be your momma! Now and forever, clinging that HOPE!

 

What good can come from there?

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I distinctly remember in the spring of 2004 having a conversation with my son, Reed.  We were listening to all the hype surrounding the NFL draft.  Most of the “talk” revolved around one young man, Eli Manning.  Reed was dismayed to hear all the analysts talk so poorly of a guy who was predicted to be (and later was) the #1 draft pick.  Most of the talk went something like this, “Well, he’s good, but he’s no Peyton.  He will be an NFL player, but he will never, mark my words, never win a Super Bowl.  He just doesn’t have that kind of talent.”

I remember how perplexed Reed was by all these not-so-nice comments.  Reed and I had a long talk about how controversy creates buzz, and buzz sometimes creates dollars in this world of instantaneous entertainment.  I also told him that I believed that the Manning family members are Christians that as Christians we don’t have to believe what our world is telling us.  We also said that we shouldn’t define greatness by the world’s standard.  Reed’s heart was cheering for one whom many perceived as the understudy, and he didn’t like that he was being beaten down when he hadn’t even started his NFL career.    

Unfortunately the talk surfaced again, when older brother Peyton and his team (Indianapolis Colts) won the Super Bowl in 2006.  “Blah, blah, blah, it’s too bad that little brother Eli (of the New York Giants) will never have a Super Bowl ring like his big brother.”  And on and on, it went.  That is until two years later, when the little brother and his team won the 2008 Super Bowl. 

I was so glad that Reed was still alive (as it was his last Super Bowl to watch on earth) to see that win. Despite all the dire glass-ceiling predictions about Eli, he had the kind of fortitude to just keep showing up and using the talents that God has given him. 

Last night’s victory led by the “lesser talented” Manning must have made one little red-head in Heaven laugh out loud.  Not only did Eli win a Super Bowl in 2008, but he and his teammates went for an encore performance four years later, winning in 2012. 

Recently, as I have been reading through the Bible, I came across a verse that made me sit up straighter and do a double take. 

John 1:43 – 46 (NCV)

43 The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Follow me.” 44 Philip was from the town of Bethsaida, where Andrew and Peter lived. 45 Philip found Nathanael and told him, “We have found the man that Moses wrote about in the law, and the prophets also wrote about him. He is Jesus, the son of Joseph, from Nazareth.” 46 But Nathanael said to Philip, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

Oh no – he didn’t! But, yes, he did!  Can anything good come from Nazareth?  You have to be kidding . . . but he wasn’t.  This Jesus couldn’t be as good as Moses, Elijah, Isaiah, and all the other prophets. Nathanael then finds out that Jesus is the real deal, but his initial thoughts were simply on this rival town and nothing good comes out of that.  After learning the truth by meeting Jesus, Nathanael becomes one of the disciples and follows him. 

There are other countless examples throughout the New Testament of Jesus standing living and breathing right in front of people, yet they would not believe that he is the Messiah.  At times even his own family doubted him.  The Pharisees, the Sadducees, the high priests, the government officials, and just average people – all doubted him. 

He continued to walk humbly and serving God his father, and people doubted and diminished his works.  People denied his abilities, and denied the prophetic claims that he was the one true Son of Man.

I, in no way, wish to imply that Eli Manning be equated with godliness, but I do want to parallel how we all have the tendency to miss the boat. This Jesus cannot be who he claims to be because it just doesn’t fit our (historically and now) idea of greatness. 

The Savior of the World, this Messiah, should be powerful, debonair, suave, magnanimous, and larger-than-life goes our thinking. He would deserve a 60 second Super Bowl ad.  A loving, caring, and humble servant does not seem to fit the picture of the “idols” we have today.  But oh, we would be so wrong. 

The hands that cradle us in our weakness were strong enough to take the nails for the sins of the world.  The heart that loves us despite our flaws (and right we are in life) was large enough to take on a burden that no other ever would be willing to take.  No, nothing good ever came out of Nazareth, but something absolutely, positively SUPER did!