This blog post was written by Theresa Adams, a Redeemer member, wife and mom, who would love to have her own roller skating rink & thinks getting her kids to eat kale is a major victory!

Loving others. Serving others. Meeting needs. All of those things can seem so daunting. So overwhelming. It can be paralyzing to know even where to begin. Sometimes people do get immobilized and don't even start. They think the circumstances have to be just so. They think when their kids get older when they have more spare time when they don't have such a heavy class load when they find a cause that breaks their heart then they will begin. I get it. I was that person. I wanted to "do something." I wanted to be a drop in the bucket that would turn into an ocean of loving, compassionate acts. But I didn't even know where to begin. I didn't know what broke my heart. What would make me weep? Sometimes I didn't even want to know that a need was out there. 

When you are living in oblivion/innocence/ignorance, it is so effortless to look the other way. Once you are made aware, it makes it near impossible to go on living without doing something. There is no going back to blissful naivety once you've become acquainted with a need. It's like Nehemiah. He was a Jew, born in Persia during the exile, so he didn't know Jerusalem other than he had relatives there. When he inquired as to the conditions among the Jews there who had survived exile in Jerusalem he went from being unaware of having his heart wrecked. "They told me, "The exile survivors who are left there in the province are in bad shape. Conditions are appalling. The wall of Jerusalem is still in rubble; the city gates are still cinders." When I heard this, I sat down and wept. I mourned for days, fasting and praying before the God-of-Heaven." (NE 1:3,4) The need was not directly affecting Nehemiah, yet he wept. For days. He sought God and then he set out to meet the need.

Perhaps you think: God wouldn't use me.  Why in the world when He has his pick of all the great, kind, loving people on the planet would He ever want to use the likes of me to accomplish something for His Glory? Why would He entrust me to love others?  To serve others? With my past? With my weaknesses? With my judgmental tendencies?  With my greed? With my selfishness?  With my potty mouth? With my grades? Whatever the reason you think you aren't "good" enough to accomplish something for His purpose have you ever thought that when we say we are incapable of being used by Him that we are saying He's made some mistake?  

God made each one of us perfectly and intentionally. He doesn't make mistakes.  It's not as though He had some terrible no-good-very-bad-day when He was creating you.  He knows you from the hairs on your head to the tips of your toes.  He knows your thoughts, your words, your heartbeat and the rhythm of your soul. It's because of the exquisite detail that makes you -you- that no one else can accomplish what you can. No one else can meet a need in the specifically same way as you. No one else can love as you love. Your gifts, skills & compassion differ from mine. What breaks my heart may not break yours. 

If you find yourself longing to "do something"  to serve your neighborhood, your city, your county, your campus, but you don't know what said something is can I encourage you to pray about it? To ask God what breaks your heart? He will be faithful and reveal something to you. He did to me. Years ago it was human trafficking that first gave an awareness to the myriad of needs of our world, country, state, county. And I began small. Sending letters & cards to a shelter in Greece that housed women freed from trafficking. Then it was building an awareness of what went on in our county and connecting with local resources.

 Since that time there have been many different opportunities I've been able to take part in: from giving my credit at a consignment store to a homeless woman so she could buy clothes with dignity, to having garage sales for at-risk-teens, to providing Christmas presents to kids whose parents were unable to provide one of their own.. I don't share this with you as a "look-at-me-I've-got-it-all-figured-out" kind of pat on the back, because truly, I am pretty sure I mess up & miss opportunities on a regular basis. 

What I hope to do by sharing with you is to encourage you. I too once wanted to love others. I wanted to "do something," I wanted to help to serve to make a difference. Sometimes I wonder if that is what Jesus meant when he told his followers: "Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples." (John 13:34,35)  He didn't say people would know we were set apart because of the fish logo on the back of our cars. Nor by the verses & well-meaning quotes we share on Facebook. Not even by the in-depth knowledge of doctrine we may have. None of which are insignificant.  But by our love. Maybe it's just me, but I don't think it's by the feeling of love, but rather the action. An outpouring of activity regardless of the outcome. Regardless of what we gain in return. Love as He loved us.

 If your heart is to love others (Or you want to have that heart) and you'd like to serve alongside those in our county who are already meeting a need here are some possibilities. The list is by no means exhaustive, but it's a start. And isn't that what we need sometimes? Just a start?

http://www.engedirefuge.com/engedi_house.html

http://www.skookumkids.org/

http://www.bellinghamhopehouse.com/

http://www.amysplaceforyouth.org/

http://thewhatcomdream.org/

http://www.reboundwc.com/who-we-are

http://www.pass-the-hat.org/

-This weeks post is by Ashley Bowie, a member at Redeemer. She pours an excellent cup of coffee, and loves words the way some people love their pets, or children.

Every March my family celebrates a special holiday. On March 19, 1988, my parents adopted three children from the bad side of life. I was only four; I had a sister who was five and had taught me how to tie my shoes, and how to talk to people and a happy rowdy brother who had just turned two. We were a mess for sure. We had been through a lot in our collective short years and had all the fears and bad habits that came with it. But on that special day, we walked into a new home. We had new beds that were just for us, a big back yard with a wooden swing set, clothes, toys, and family, oh boy was there family. On our first night, there was a huge party. It sort of happened by accident. Everyone knew we were coming home, and they all wanted to stop by and say hello to the kids my parents had chosen. We met neighbors and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. Everyone who had prayed and cried with my parents as they went through the soul trying process of adoption was there to celebrate. I still remember meeting our next door neighbors who had a girl my age, and proudly showing her my bed, a top bunk if you can believe it, and the first stuffed animal that was ever mine. 

After all the cake had been eaten, and the presents had been put away, I was staring up into the passionate blue eyes of my new Mom and the gentle hazel of my new Dad. They kissed me and said, "Welcome home, I love you." I don't have many memories before that day; maybe I was too young, or maybe God was protecting me, but I remember every moment of that day. To this day, we all remember and cherish March 19th. It's the day the orphans came home, the day the emptiness was made full, the day we became a family. We call it Gotcha Day because as my Mom and Dad always said, "that's the day we got-cha."

God adopted you. You were born into hardship and subjected to the neglect and abuse of this world; you carry the fears and bad habits that come with it. And then one day, God brought you home. He gave you a safe place, He cares for your needs and gives you family, so much family. Do you remember the day that God "Got-cha?" 

Easter is just around the corner. This is the time of year we remember with sober minds that God sent His only son, to die on our behalf, to bridge the gap between creator and created. This is also the day that God "got-cha." On that day, He paid the price and decided that you belonged to Him, that you would come home, and you would be His child. 

Romans 8:14-17 "For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of adoption as sons by whom we cry, "Abba! Father!" The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs - heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ..."

Maybe you think the day that God gotcha was a day that you finally gave up or a day your eyes finally opened. Maybe you were at the end of your rope or at the bottom of the pit. Maybe that's when you saw it, when you finally realized that God has adopted you. But He has wanted you from the beginning and has been calling you home to Himself since the day you were born.

Romans 8:29 "For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, in order that He might be the firstborn among many brothers."

When I was adopted, I was rescued. I was rescued from neglect, and abuse and fear. But I was also brought home. I was given care instead of neglect, compassion instead of abuse, and love instead of fear. It took a while for my little heart to understand that. I didn't realize that I would be fed, so I hid food. I didn't know that mistakes would be met with kindness, so I lied. I think sometimes we focus so much on what God has saved us from, that we forget to recognize what he has saved us to. You were pulled out of the filth of the world so that He could embrace you as His child. You have no need to hide, or cover up. You are home. You are safe. 

No one was going to send me back, this wasn't an accident, there were no regrets and no "plan B" incase this didn't pan out the way they had hoped. If you know anything about post infant adoption, you know that children who have been through a lot, take a lot of love and a lot of work. Attachment disorders, identity disorders, stunted emotional growth, and pathologically deceitful tendencies, these words were in the file of myself, my brother and sister. Imagine what would be in your file right now. Imagine the labels the world would put on you and try to convince you that you don't deserve the love of a Good Father, or that it would be too much work to make you whole again. 

Romans 8:38-39 "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Now imagine the impromptu party that happened on your gotcha day. The angels that stopped by to see the child that God had chosen, the family and friends that had prayed for you and were so proud and thrilled that you are now a member of the family. And when the lights go out, and everyone goes home, there He is, your good and great heavenly father looking at you with bright and unending love saying "Welcome home, I love you.”

Current blog post written by Becca Wellan. A devoted and caring friend who loves coffee and talking about Jesus. Oh, and did I mention she loves coffee?

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you. He will never permit the righteous to be moved.” - Psalm 55:2. 

It’s a Sunday morning, and a friend of mine asks me how I’m doing. I’m tempted to smile, say “I’m good!” and walk away. But, the word “good” tastes bitter on my lips, and I swallow it, along with all the other words I can’t say. With sincerity and compassion, he tells me I can give him an honest answer.

“Honestly...” I look out the window as though the grey sky is listening, too, as her sobs fall in droplets down the stained glass. I start sobbing, too. 

“I feel terrible.” 

He could have turned away. He could have awkwardly muttered “I’m sorry,” and turned to someone more cheerful, a conversation more comfortable. Instead, he prayed for me. Another friend prayed with us. Then he offered to help me with my practical needs so that I could get through the day. 

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you.” 

Promises like this have always been mildly abstract to me. Jesus will sustain me? How? I always pictured a wave of superhuman strength taking over my emotions, crashing through every last drop of weakness. 

But this never happened. 

Encourage
Verb | en·cour·age | To inspire with courage or hope

In a moment when I felt like my heart was being crushed by calloused hands, and I stood completely helpless, I grew courageous, by degrees, when my brothers and sisters in Christ stood with me. Amidst my great fears, I felt hope. They didn’t try to fix my situation; they didn’t talk too much. They didn’t use Jesus band-aids and Christian cliches (ex. Jesus loves you, you’ll be okay). 

But, they held me together. They listened, they prayed, they reminded me of the goodness of God. They reminded me of His power to restore lost souls and heal broken hearts. 

That day, in a hundred ways, my brothers and sisters were a source of incredible strength to me. Strength I could never have found on my own. Strength found only in speaking, hearing and believing the truths of Jesus. 

Through the Christ-like compassion of God’s people, God Himself sustained me another day.

At the heart of the gospel lies the glorious reality of friendship. Through His sacrificial death on the cross in the place of hopeless people, Jesus, a friend of sinners, brought us into a deep, immovable friendship with the creator of the galaxies (Mark 2:13-17). 

We shattered our friendship with sin. He sacrificed Himself to bring us back. 

And because He is with us now, the church is called to be God’s active, hope-filled, light-giving presence in the world. Because we are restored to friendship with Him, we are called to “bear one another's burdens” (Galatians 6:2), to “encourage one another” (1 Thessalonians 5:11) and to “be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Ephesians 4:32). 

He does not promise to miraculously heal us or change our circumstances though we wait for Him to come in waves of superhuman strength. Rather, He often shows us His grace and boundless love through other believers. God’s people are God’s presence in a broken world. 

FREE Ice cream!
That is a great way to start any conversation. If you need help moving, you start off by offering free ice cream before you ask for favors. If you want people to come to your charity event, you promise them free ice cream before you say anything else. If you want someone to read a blog about self-discipline, you promise them free ice cream at the end.

Self-discipline is not one of the darlings when it comes to character traits. In a culture that grows steadily younger as we age, self-discipline feels like drudgery. Most of us can maintain some level of discipline in one or two areas for a small measure of time. "I'm dieting for 21 days, and then I get a break"No TV for a month and then binge fest 2016." When you're discussing your weekend with co-workers, no one says "I was really self-disciplined, I didn't overspend or over drink, or Netflix and yoga pants for eleven straight hours."

We like to talk about compassion, and kindness and grace and peace. We share with one another the things we accomplished for the Kingdom, the dreams and longings of things we want to do, projects we want to be a part of, and the moments we could feel the presence of the Father. We like to talk about ice cream. 

Self-discipline is like broccoli.

Genesis chapter 5 is an account of the generations from Adam to Noah. It follows a simple pattern; "When Seth had lived 105 years he fathered a son, after that son he lived 807 years and had other sons and daughters and then he died. All the days of Seth were 912 years." That’s a paraphrase, but it follows the same pattern for ten generations, except for one. 
Genesis 5:21-24 "When Enoch had lived 65 years, he fathered Methuselah. Enoch walked with God after he fathered Methuselah 300 years and had other sons and daughters. Thus, all the days of Enoch were 365 years. Enoch walked with God, and he was not, for God took him." 

What is the difference between just "living and dying" and "walking with God?" I think I know. Broccoli. I'm sure you have seen the evidence in your own heart, so this won't come as a shock to anyone. We have a tendency just to do whatever is easiest. Maintaining a close relationship with God is not the easy thing to do. 

Every day we are bombarded with messages that tell us we are the most important thing, our desire is what is most important, and our immediate happiness is the key factor in every decision. This is slavery. To chase after desire that culminates in itself, only to have to chase something bigger and brighter next time. You think you're chasing down happiness or fulfillment, you think you're headed for your ice cream, but all you end up with is a stone cold block of ice. 

I think even we believers fall for this scheme sometimes. We want the songs that make us feel good, the sermons that inspire us to chase our dreams, and little chats that start and end with "I'm fine thanks, how are you?" But the life of the believer is frequently compared to farming. Our life is hands in the dirt, sweat on your brow, and broccoli on your plate kind of life. 

I’m not always great at it, but I’ve learned a few ways to prep and eat broccoli over the years that are quite delicious.

1. Study with fellow believers. No matter what’s going on it helps to know we are not alone.

2. Set an alarm reminder to pray. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, at first, set your alarm to a time of day you know you usually have a few minutes of free thinking and dedicate that time to pray. 

3. Set your bible on top of your phone at night. Seriously, if it’s the first thing you touch in the morning, maybe it will help you remember to crack it open and dig in.  

Self-discipline can sometimes feel like legalism. And it can be easy to talk yourself out of practical steps if you look at it that way. The funny thing is, though, the more you study, the more you pray and engage in Christian community, the more you want to. What a gracious gift to us! It’s like discovering that you really do like to exercise or eat healthy food. Even if you only give it a few minutes a day, at first, God will still hear and still help. 

We know that God saved us through Jesus. He saved us from a life of fruitless chasing after desires of the flesh to a new life bursting with the fruit of the spirit. 
Galatians 5:22-23 "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things, there is no law."

Our tree needs to be tended to with prayer and meditation and diligent study. Galatians 5:25 "If we live by the Spirit let us keep in step with the Spirit." Being prone to take the easy way and to wander away from our savior, it makes sense that by His Spirit we are called to keep in step with the Spirit. Keep walking, keep digging, keep pruning and keep at it. 

The truth is, God sees our wicked hearts, sees how we are making a mess of things just trying to get what we want, He rescues us from the mess and puts true joy in our hearts. He pulls us out of the wreckage and replaces the shadow with substance, the plastic toys for the real deal. There's your ice cream; you just have to eat your broccoli too.

-This weeks post is by Ashley Bowie, a member at Redeemer. She pours an excellent cup of coffee, and loves words the way some people love their pets, or children.

I have missed many opportunities in my lifetime due to not wanting to do something just because everyone else was doing it. Stubborn? Just a little. You'd think by now I would realize the reason that so many people are doing something is because it's fantastic. Can't tell you how much my life was changed once I got over myself and started texting. I'm beginning to wonder if Lent is a little bit like this. Do I miss out in my relationship with Jesus because I don't set aside those "40 days of Lent?" I realize not everyone observes Lent. When I was younger, it seemed as though only those in the Catholic Church observed the period between Ash Wednesday and just before Easter Sunday. Now it seems like each year with the hint of spring comes many people, no matter their faith, giving up a vice/behavior/habit for Lent. Whether it be drinking, television watching or fill-in-the-blank. Instead of setting something aside they may add something, like going to church or eating fish on a Friday. If that is what Lent is- giving something up just because that's what everyone else does then I'm not interested. But if Lent is the idea of a "season of soul-searching and repentance. A season for reflection and taking stock" then that is intriguing to me.

A few years ago for the first time, I declared "I’m giving up dessert for Lent." To be honest, I think it was more of a weight-loss plan that a practice of prayerful self-denial. I don't recall anything being different in my walk with God off or on the sweets. I do recall my husband very kindly requesting I find a different vice to give up should I ever declare to "do Lent" again. As it was that year my birthday, our anniversary, other family members birthdays all fell within that period. Made celebrating a little difficult and I haven't observed Lent since.

 If you were to observe Lent you'd be in a sense imitating the 40 days that Jesus withdrew into the wilderness to prepare for His ministry, only you would be preparing yourself for Easter. Whether you did that by avoiding certain foods that would feel like a sacrifice to you, adding to a devotional reading, fasting, praying, choosing to be wiser and more engaged with your time whatever it may be I think it comes down to a choice.

Do you choose to set something aside for a time, not out of obligation or legalism, but out of a desire to reflect or if need be to repent?  As the time of  Lent approaches, I am drawn more and more to the idea that any time spent quietly pondering or being more intentionally focused on Jesus is a time that can only benefit those choosing to do it.  Does not doing it affect His love for you?  No.  The last thing I would encourage anyone is to "do more."  He already loves you to perfection. Nothing you do or don't do can make Him love you any less nor can observing, this time, make Him love you anymore.  But what if observing Lent caused your love for Him to grow? What if it caused you to know Him a little more?  What if it allowed you to be more connected to Him because you'd spent time being purposeful about your pursuance of Him?  Worth it?  Maybe it's just me but I think with any relationship if you put in 40 days of intentional time in you would leave that season with a stronger relationship.  The cord that tethered you to one another would be strengthened. More durable and less likely to give way under the strain. 

If you choose to observe Lent this season here is a link to the “Journey to the Cross” devotional that could be used and modified by you for you to use during your family devotional time during Lent.

This week's article is by Theresa Adams, a Redeemer member, a wife & a mom, who would someday love to have her own roller skating rink & thinks getting her kids to eat kale is a major victory!

This week’s post is by Brandon Adent, a deacon at Redeemer Church. He likes music, words, and words about music.

As the crow flies, baby, well I ain’t so far from you
but since I don’t have wings I can’t get home as fast as I want to

I remember the first time I tucked into a Rory Gallagher album; I’d never heard sounds like that from a guitar. Squeaks and squawks and chirps accompanied each tone, the kinds of sounds you can only get when you’re really going for it and know exactly what you’re doing. They had an urgency and a transparency to them, an odd mix of happiness and grief, and a willingness to face and embrace both of them, wherever that took him.

This was what Rory was known for: long, intense shows (over three hours long) playing his heart out.

Rory could really play, but he could write and sing, too. Particularly in his earlier records, he had joy in his voice. You could tell he was having the time of his life.

Even with so much joy, his songs talked so much of pain. particularly a song called “Too Much Alcohol”. The story is pretty simple: his lady is driving him nuts, and he medicates with pure alcohol:

Whiskey make me drowsy
And gin can make you think
Well, a common cold can kill ya
But, my baby turned me to drink

I went down on 31st Street
To pick up a jug of alcohol

Yeah, I told the guy to put in some water
But he wouldn't put in a drop at all
One hundred per cent alcohol
Well, let me have some

This kind of thing was pretty central to the blues lifestyle. Not surprisingly, a lot of these guys didn’t live to be very old (Rory himself died at 47) and those that do aren’t in great shape in later life. They lived a hard life, some by choice, others because those were the cards they were dealt.

Some may dislike the blues, but I love them. I like to be happy, but there’s no sense in faking; sometimes, happy song just won’t do. Occasionally, the biblical thing to do would be to sing the blues.

The blues have hope at their core. The big question, though, is where we put it. Do we look for comfort in God (in Whom it's perfectly found), or do we look for it in drink, sex, money, or power which can never give us the rest for which we long?

The Hope We Have

In the case of a certain psalmist, the writer of the 137th psalm, the source of the turmoil comes not from relationship trouble, but a longing for home:

By the waters of Babylon,
there we sat down and wept,
when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there
we hung up our lyres.
For there our captors
required of us songs,
and our tormentors, mirth, saying,
“Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

Jerusalem has been destroyed. The psalmist is being held captive in exile, and forced to sing one of the celebratory songs of the temple, and they’re just sick of it. The psalmist would rather lose the ability to make music than to sing one more happy song from Jerusalem.

How shall we sing the Lord’s song
in a foreign land?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
let my right hand forget its skill!
Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth,
if I do not remember you,
if I do not set Jerusalem
above my highest joy!

Even the happiest songs of Zion are sad.

At the same time, though, the psalmist knows they can’t forget Jerusalem, and they don’t want to. They miss those songs and the city in which they were sung, when they could sing these songs happily and with joy, as they were meant to be.

Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites
the day of Jerusalem,
how they said, “Lay it bare, lay it bare,
down to its foundations!”
O daughter of Babylon, doomed to be destroyed,
blessed shall he be who repays you
with what you have done to us!
Blessed shall he be who takes your little ones
and dashes them against the rock!

Just when we thought it wouldn’t get any darker, like Rory being willing to drink poison to numb the pain, the psalmist prays for the violent death of their oppressor’s children, and cries out for justice from the only One who can truly administer it impartially.

Being Honest

That’s pretty dark, right? What would you do if you heard someone pray that way? The more “spiritual” thing to pray for is deliverance from oppression and grace and mercy for the oppressors.

Often, that’s what we should do, but not always. The psalmist is just being honest about their feelings and desires, and they’re sick of putting on a show, both literally and figuratively.

When I’m not doing so well emotionally, I often feel that I have to put on a similar show. I have to pretend like everything is great when it’s not. I have to smile and laugh and be happy when I just want to curl up in a corner and cry.

The Bible says that sometimes a happy song just isn’t going to work. As much fun as it is to sing happy songs, there’s value in expressing sadness, too, particularly when that sadness drives you to the Savior.

I’m not saying completely remove the filter. There’s definitely a line between honesty and just spilling things, a fine line though it might be. Honesty is inviting people to see what’s troubling you, as opposed to spilling your troubles all over whether or not it’s welcomed. Spilling quickly turns to wallowing, either on one’s own or otherwise.

Look for the Light

Many blues songs “resolve” at wallowing, which is really to say they don’t resolve, at least in a way that lifts us from the mire for good. That's sort of the point, really. We hope for something better than what we have, but there seems to be no one or nothing that can save us from where we are.

However, there is hope, and the psalmist knows where to put it; in the Lord, who He is, what He's done, and what He will do.

While God waits awhile to act on the psalmist’s prayer, He does. Kingdoms rise and fall, and Edom and Babylon are no exception.

Ultimately, though, God sent his own Son to be crushed for the wickedness of the world, including sins of ours, those of Edom, and those of Babylon, so that all who trust in Him will be able in inhabit a city and world so beautiful that it makes Jerusalem look like a slum.

Even in the blues, there can be joy. Even in the blues, there is hope.