A lamp unto my feet

In the fifth grade I purchased my very first cassette tape with my own money. I chose Amy Grant's "The Collection." I listened to it all the time. I learned how to harmonize. Amy and I sounded awesome together. If you asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would say Amy Grant. For years. I even loved her "Lead Me on" phase. I shied away from the whole "Baby, Baby" crossover situation, mostly because that was some terrible music.
I could digress into so many trails right now, but I'll stick with my intent. One of the songs on that album was "Thy Word." Words inspired by Psalms that say, "Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. When I feel afraid, think I've lost my way, still you're there right beside me. Nothing will I fear as long as you are near. Please be near me to the end..."
This song (that I sang with the backing vocals cassette--another story for another day) has been such a touchstone for me vocationally. I did not end up being Amy Grant, but looking back at almost twenty years of career, I can now see some of the threads God has been weaving.

It's a good time for a graphic to break up all these words. Here's a lantern for your viewing pleasure.

I always thought I would decide what I wanted to be (read DO) and God would bless it and magically make it happen. I also had a healthy confidence in my dreams and God's providence and KNEW that someday I would be acclaimed and/or well-known and famous. Like Shelley's-on-Oprah famous.

Shelley Jones is my favorite thing!

God's path is so different though. While the Psalmist is singing of the Word of God (written and ultimately through Jesus), our daily lives are the living out of His Word as well. It occurred to me at some point that a "lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path" are not the same as a God-GPS which illuminates an entire route, giving exact turn-by-turn instructions and warning of traffic and road-blocks. I think a lot of us expect the GPS version of our calling and/or life's work, but we're met with just enough light to show us our next few steps.
Glennon Melton over at momastery.com always says, "do the next right thing." That's what my vocational life has looked like. It has looked like dreams dashed. It has looked like humility and sacrifice. It has looked like service when I wanted it to look like superstar. It has felt like maybe I peaked in high school and was floundering in the real world. I have kept taking small steps. The next step I could see to take, then another and another. And now sometimes it looks like same-old until I look at it through God's lens.
God's "perspecticles" (credit to Glennon again) show me that I have always been a stage-setter. One who prepares a place for others to bring their gifts. One who goes ahead and thinks through the plan and sorts out and welcomes. In youth ministry, I prepared for a weekly service and facilitated for both volunteers and students and the youth pastor to bring their gifts to the space. Many times those gifts were of art--music, dance, mime, drama, speaking, singing...I helped create situations and spaces for students to spread their wings on missions trips and create life-long friendships at summer camp. Hopefully, I nudged them closer to the cross. My vocation and calling were intertwined as I sowed into their lives and set the stage for them to learn and develop their gifts. I fumbled through much of this experience, learning as I went.
I tried to leave this path several times, but The Lord always nudged me back on, giving me just enough grace to keep going. Then, when I slowed down a bit and listened, I could feel the grace truly leave, and I knew that another path was not far off.
That's when the real panic can set in. You know, know, know that you're about to take a sharp turn; but you keep looking too far down the lane in anticipation...you begin freaking out.
Just do the next right thing. Keep praying, keep applying, (keep resume-ing) and keep going back to the last thing you knew to be true.
My sharp turn took me back to my alma mater doing event planning. The vast majority of my events were for either current or potential donors, or "friend raising." Again, I found myself setting the stage for people to share and grow their gifts. Such an honor to help give back to the university that gave me a full scholarship. And to work with people who are like family.
I have attempted a few wide steps that felt like they might be sharp turns over the past few years; but at this point, I feel so blessed to be doing a job that allows me the flexibility and head space to be a mom. I am not struggling with learning all new systems, people and places. I am surrounded by familiarity and a good sense of what to do at work. This cracks the door a little for me to continue dreaming about other places I can set the stage for my child to bring his gifts and for you to bring yours. Your gifts of worship and art and writing and faith and encouragement. Your songs of lament. Your stumbles and fumbles, because those are gifts, too. As my wise new friend Emily Stone said recently in a sermon, "God wastes nothing." All the good jobs, the crappy jobs, the late nights. They weren't wasted. Experiences and unrealized visions and longings are all useful in God's economy. Doing shift work at an un-airconditioned Georgia pillow factory in summer with interesting characters who found their lottery numbers in the daily Ziggy cartoon...not wasted. Perhaps even then I was setting the stage for someone's gift of glorious sleep. ;)

"Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. When I feel afraid, think I've lost my way, still you're there right beside me. Nothing will I fear as long as you are near. Please be near me to the end..."

Telling the stories

I made a craft. I should pinterest the ))(*&(*&# out of it, except I got the idea from pinterest. It was nearly a pinstrosity, but I was able to pull it back from the brink...rip some paper off, restain, repaint...I did it over a year ago. 'Cause for the love of Pete, I NEED a creative outlet!!! It's nothing to write home about, but I do love the meaning.

"This is my Song" start

One canvas says "This is my story." The other says "This is my song." From the old hymn Blessed Assurance. On the story canvas, I chose words and passages I find meaningful; and on the song canvas, I pulled from an old hymnal.

Adding some paint

These are the two things we carry in life. Our stories and our songs. Our tales of setback and overcoming, our funniest moments, our memories, our soaring ballads and minor-keyed heartaches. I have felt compelled of late to tell my stories. However uninteresting or uneventful. I need to make markers and altars in my own life. What I don't have are the dramatic or shocking testimonies.

All painted and waiting for letters

There is nothing wrong with those. But those are not my story. What I do have is a faithful God in both little and small ways over the course of many days and nights.











These sit atop my piano, which is not often played. There's a book of hymns that was my grandmother's, published in 1913. She played piano and sang for her church for many years.

I had a heck of a time figuring out how to get the lettering on. I didn't want it to be handwriting. I wanted large statement letters. Somehow, in a fit of frustration at Hobby Lobby, I came home with smallish Scrabble-looking letters. I was underwhelmed with the result.

But then, as any good English major does, I found it fraught with MEANING. You have to get close to these guys to read them. To see this is my story and this is my song. Our stories and songs don't yell. They're the intimate parts of us, aren't they?

It's a little messy, somewhat thought out, and artsy but not art. A lot like me.