Little Things part 5 (Sunday June 24)

When I was little and I was by myself, I used to sing a song to the Lord.  It was a simple act of worship arising from a simple song.  The song was I Love You Lord (and I Lift my voice); it is a repetitive song and it allowed me to meditate and pray while I sang.

The summer before I left home for college I sat on the swings of my elementary school playground, singing that song and praying.  It was a time to say good bye to my past, say goodbye to my childhood.  It was a time to let go of the past's familiarity and trust God's guidance for the future.

I sang this song a few other times since then.  But its been years since it has come to my head.

This morning I gave my first sermon.  There was some nervous energy running through me as I sat in the CM Office.  Sunday School classes were cared for, and still and hour before the service started, so I sat down and and began to pray.  As I did one song came to mind: I Love You Lord.  Even when I'm alone I don't sing aloud.  This is the one song I sing aloud; loud enough to be heard.   As I began to trust God for my role in the service, I continued to sing.

As the service started I sat in the pew, and listen to announcements and responsive readings, and sang the songs.  Then the worship team began to sing, I love you, Lord.


My sermon was about ministry (taken from Matthew 14:13-21)  It was about giving our best and watching God take what we have and make it so much better.

Here is the audio of the sermon
 
--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away
 --Jesse Letourneau

Thaing up the school year

Almost a month ago my first year of seminary came to a close with a Thai ceremony.

According to the ex-missionary, current professor who shared the ceremony with us, in Thailand people take small strands of cotton string and tie them around the wrists of friends and loved ones.  As they do so, they say a blessing over the gift's receiver.  This ritual often accompanies a time of transition. To end our time together as classmates in "Religions and Culture" we took the last twenty minutes of class to share encouragement, blessings, and string with each other.

Traditionally, the strings are only worn for three days.  I have had mine on for three weeks.  I have kept them as a reminder.  I have kept them hoping to remember the feelings of that day.

As we went around the room and shared blessings one with another I found myself standing in one place waiting for others to come to me.  I didn't feel that I had anything to share with the others.  This has been a theme for me this semester.  This semester my sin and shame have been very close to my conscience.  And on this day I was feeling particularly unworthy.

There has been a second theme this semester.  This year God has repeatedly reminded me of my worth before him.  In chapels, academic reading, friends, counseling, and many more times this year the refrain God has played for me is that I have incredible worth and incredible value in his eyes.

The third stanza for this semester was my learning to stop and receive this love, this acceptance.  Sometimes it encourages me to action, other times I can barley take it all in.  I have saved bulletins, I have rehearsed conversations already spoken, I have tried to hold onto the feelings of acceptance that seems so fleeting.  So now I wear around my left wrist a reminder of the blessings spoke into my life on that day nearly a month ago.  I did return a blessing to others when I could find the words.  But mostly, I stood in the corner and tried to take it all in.  I tried to push back the tears in my eyes and the lump in my throat as I received the love God had for me that day.

Yet feelings are so very fleeting.  However, we are not called to feelings but to relationships.  I was reminded of this truth by reading this blog.  I have been trying to find ways to hold onto feelings and memories, rather than living in the now.  Living in relationship.  Living with my God.

This summer has been hard.  There is a lot of free time.  I find myself spending a lot of my free time on the pointless and selfish.  I find myself running from the man of God that I began to see myself as this semester.  It has been the boring, non-fulfilling life of one called to so much more.  What I need is to move from the "hard" life to the arduous one.  To move to a posture of working at the relationship, to give to it, to stay with it despite the fleeting feelings of the moment.






--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau