Everyday Disciple: Tammy's Story

This post is part of an on-going Everyday Disciple series. We're celebrating here what it looks like to follow Christ faithfully in the day-to-day. I am thankful to share the stories of gracious friends and readers, and I have sought to preserve and honor their voice in the post below. I invite you to join me as we listen to their experience as an "everyday disciple."

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I remember when I first met Tammy at the women’s Bible study at our church. I walked away from our brief conversation with a gut-level awareness that I had found a kindred spirit. We now meet for lunch as often as our busy schedules allow, to talk about writing, life, and our shared desire to see hurting people made well. It is a delight to share some of her story here with you today.

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I am a psychotherapist. I have a private practice working with teens and adults.

I absolutely love helping hurting people feel better. I have the honor of witnessing people begin to be free of their pain and being a part of God’s work in people’s minds and hearts.

When we address pain in therapy, I think it models the help and abundant life Jesus offered to us. I believe people can live more “abundantly” as they learn to ‘solve the solvable problems’ or ‘cope ahead’ to deal with an upcoming stressful situation or find comfort in healthy activities instead of in things that bring more pain.

I’ve been learning a lot lately about Internal Family Systems therapy. The theory behind this approach is that we all have an “internal system,” made of different parts, some we like, some we do not like.

For example, there might be a “part” of someone that does not want to get out of bed, that is scared and overwhelmed. But there is also another “part” that wants to get up early to run ten miles, do a crossword puzzle, and change the beds. This part is also scared and using perfectionism to try to feel better.

In therapy, I help people learn about this inner dialogue and conflict, and help them to see, hear from, and be with these various parts of themselves. The goal is to help them start to understand both parts and learn to validate their conflicted internal feelings. In that moment, they can find their “true Self,” the one grounded, centered, and calm in the midst of these “parts.” I believe in this place they can find healing and experience the Holy Spirit pouring into their minds and hands and feet, empowering them to live in abundance.

The Christian community is just beginning to understand and support those who are suffering with mental illness. But, we would all be surprised at the number of people in our churches who are dealing with ‘functional’ anxiety and depression. (Not to mention those struggling with addiction to pornography, to drugs, to alcohol, to control and power.)

They get up, go to work, take care of their kids, and, all the while they are screaming inside. The shame and the stigma keep them from whispering it out loud: “I am a Christian and I am sad. I feel alone. I am afraid.”

We want people to admit they are sinners, but often, as Christians, we do not want to admit we need feel bad and need help. I get it—we all wish we had it all together all the time. But we don’t, and it is silly to pretend otherwise. It is okay to seek help. It is okay to admit we are struggling. I wish Christians knew that healthy, normal people go to therapy. It helps.

Sometimes horrible things happen to people, and sometimes people’s daily lives are torment. Some live with depression, anxiety, terrifying memories, illness, and pain. I, on the other hand, can hardly tolerate having a cold for more than a week. Because of my own faith, I believe there is light and there is love in the midst of all kinds of pain. If I can help people see this and experience it, then I know and am reminded how God is present in my life and theirs.

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If you would like to be a part of this project, I would love to hear your story. Contact me for more information.

Everyday Disciple: Scott's Story

This post is part of an on-going Everyday Disciple series. We're celebrating here what it looks like to follow Christ faithfully in the day-to-day. I am thankful to share the stories of gracious friends and readers, and I have sought to preserve and honor their voice in the post below. I invite you to join me as we listen to their experience as an "everyday disciple."

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For our first story, I thought I’d stay close to home. Scott and I first met working on the leadership team of a summer camp. Little could I have known that first day, when he showed up on crutches still recovering from knee surgery, that four years later we’d be married.

Now, I see Scott lace his thick work boots each morning, clip on his ID badge, and head out to another day of work. Each evening, I listen for the creak of the storm door as he comes home and talks of the successes and challenges of the day. He’s passionate about manufacturing and about creating efficient and creative work. It’s a joy to share some of his story with you today.

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I work as a manufacturing engineer at a company that makes parts for commercial aircraft. I program inspection equipment, 5-axis milling machines, and am part of a development team for electro-chemical machining.

Simply put, I work on processes to make our parts as efficiently and accurately as possible. I take simple hunks of metal and turn them into complex parts. But I also get to be a part of the process that makes airplanes more fuel and cost efficient, which can make the ability to travel and “come together” more accessible to people.

I really enjoy making improvements to the processes we use.  I love learning new processes, seeing how someone else approached a problem, and trying to apply the things I’ve learned from past experience to make the process better. I like it when my improvements mean that I improve the job of the people running machines.

For example, I recently was put in charge of improving the tools used for a process we’d been doing for years. It was the initial cutting at the beginning of making the part. We were removing a lot of material quickly, but the tool made a lot of noise and wore out fast. It was an expensive way to remove the material, and it created a lot of waste.

With help from other people, I was able to find a different tool to replace our old one. The end result was to do what originally took us 30 minutes in 5 minutes, while also cutting the cost in half. It was exciting because I empowered the guy running the machine to be a lot more productive—and improved his working environment by removing a lot of the noise from the tool. I also saved my company a lot of money, freeing them to do more things with that money such as making more jobs or giving more to the community.

My faith encourages me to make the world a better place through creativity. I’m doing my best work when I’m able to use my imagination and creatively make something new, but I’m also constrained by the rules and order that God put into his creation. I experience regularly the massive amount of work and energy that goes into making comparatively simple things and am amazed at how balanced and excellent this earth is. In this way, my work gives me an appreciation for God as a Creator.

Doing good work like this, as a Christian—seeking understanding of how the world works and applying that understanding to actually change something for the better—adds a small piece to the reputation Christians have in the workplace. I have opportunities to build relationships—and friendships—with all kinds of people. I can model integrity through honest and thorough work. I can be creative in the solutions I try. I think working this way gives Christians a reputation as people who are thoughtful, creative, and hardworking. I might not be these things all the time, but when I can do it and do it well, it slowly builds on the positive reputation of who Christians are as workers.

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If you would like to be a part of this project, I would love to hear your story. Contact me for more information.

Everyday Disciple: The Unsung Stories

It is rare for the churches I’ve attended to invite others to the front to share. It’s typically reserved for progress reports of church ministries and events, visiting ministry partners, and people leaving to go on missions trips. 

She fell into that last category. They called her forward one Sunday, gave her time to share, prayed over and commissioned her. She was nervous but passionate, her pale cheeks flushing as she shared her desire to serve God and be willing to take risks for Him. 

I had once been her—a graduating senior, about to embark on an international ministry adventure. Freshly out of school for the first time since age five. Leaving behind the security of family, friends, culture, schedule. It was exhilarating and terrifying—like plunging from a cliff. 

She was praised by the pastor. I remember him saying, “I want to thank you and commend you for taking this step of faith. You could have done anything with this next year, but you’ve decided to entrust it to the Lord. You’re going to the true frontline of mission.”

I thought of the other students, clustered throughout the sanctuary, those entering traditional, not explicitly Christian jobs, those who would never be called to the front. What was being communicated to them as they watched their classmate at the front of the sanctuary?

The girl with the long flowing hair and quick smile, about to enter a grueling MFA program.

The boy with the auburn beard and flannel carefully tucked into belted jeans, who had already secured an engineering job.

The girl with the cropped dark hair and thick framed glasses, working the late night shift at the hospital. 

Were they not on mission’s frontline? Were they not faithfully entrusting their lives to God? Was their decision to enter the workforce a lesser calling? 

Even if church leaders would balk at such a suggestion, it’s sadly what gets implicitly (or explicitly) communicated by how we talk and what we celebrate. 

Sometimes obedience and faith lead us to seminary or to a foreign nation. Sometimes obedience and faith lead us to cultivating a small business or working a traditional nine to five. There is no divide between them—they are simply different callings, with their own joys, challenges, and temptations. 

Both invite us into the thrilling adventure of watching and participating in God’s work in the world. Both uniquely position us to live faithfully as disciples of Christ. Both are on the frontline of mission.

I can see them now—face after face of Christians I know who work “normal” jobs each day, who faithfully go about their work, as disciples of Christ. Their stories go unheard, uncelebrated. They do not scatter out into their workplaces with the sense that the Church is commissioning and supporting them in their work. 

But we can begin to change that through the stories we tell. We can pause to celebrate stories of everyday faithfulness. These everyday saints in our midst have stories to tell. They are stories of how God is working in our ordinary lives, of how He uses our work to shape us as His disciples. They are stories of how He enters our simple human existence and touches it with His glory. These stories are all around us, if only we take the time to listen.

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If you would like to be a part of the Everyday Disciple project, I would love to hear your story. Contact me for more information.

I Should Be Writing

I should be writing. 

Instead, I’m standing in the dim light of our basement, transferring articles of our dirty clothing from the wicker hamper to the washing machine. The smell of damp and mildew surrounds me, and I wonder at the haze of cobwebs catching the thin rays of light coming through the window. I am suddenly inspired to scrub minor stains and change the sheets. 

I should be writing. 

Instead, I’m planning our meals and making a list for the store. I’m clipping coupons and browsing through sale ads. I will save us money while still filling our house with the smell of fresh baked bread and homemade chili bubbling in my teal Le Creuset. I will have extra on hand for when others join our table, planning in advance for spontaneity. 

I should be writing. 

Instead, I’m bent over the sink, hands coated in soap suds, scrubbing the pots and pans of past meals, scraping the few leftover cornbread crumbs into the trashcan. These dishes will not wash themselves. I pile up the dripping utensils of my culinary adventures, slowly revealing the table’s wooden surface. It’s dirty. I wash it. The stove is speckled with crumbs and grease splatter. I wipe it down, gently lifting the burners and drip plates. As I rinse my cloth in the sink, I notice the drain is developing a dark film. No time like the present. 

I should be writing. Instead, I’m scrubbing the drain of my kitchen sink. 

Anne Lamott says the key to writing success is to keep your butt in the chair. Day in, day out, keep your butt in the chair and write. 

This is perhaps one of the most challenging parts of the job. To stay in the chair, to stay typing out words, whether I feel “inspired” or not, whether there are dishes in my sink or not. I can’t—and don’t—wait to sit down at my writing desk until I feel struck by an idea or moved by the Muses. I sit down every day, and I write. 

Some days it comes easy. Other days, I can barely eek out a paragraph that satisfies me. It’s on these days that I feel the incessant urge to do household chores, to do anything to flee from the cursor mocking me with its steady blinking.

The truth is, there is something powerful and strengthening in just showing up every day in obedient discipline. It works the muscles of my resolve. There is something hard won in bearing the weight of days with little creativity, with a raging inner critic, with the challenging work in what I’ve been called to. But there’s only one way to do this: butt in chair…and write.

The Bible is Not About You

This post is part of an ongoing series on reading, interpreting, and studying the Bible. Click here for all the posts in this series.

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As I write this post today, which will be the last in this current series on studying the Bible, I sit in the tension of two truths. 

1. The Bible is not about you. 

As Western Christians, we get uncomfortable with that first statement. Some would take quite an offense at it. Some would use it to call into question my views of Scripture. 

In our time and place, we sit in Bible studies in which we hear too often the phrase “What this passage means to me is…” We sit in these studies or classes or sermons in which Scripture is read but then we sprint to how it’s about us. How it somehow relates to an aunt’s illness or a conflict with a co-worker, questions about the future or a sense of comfort and wellbeing. It’s as if the Bible becomes a Magic 8 ball, we shake it, flip it open, and slap the verse we pull out onto our current situation.

We must remember that the Bible is not first and foremost about us. It tells God's story. It was written in another time and place and, if you come from a Western culture, in a radically different culture. It was written for the ears of particular audiences, for a particular purpose, in light of a particular situation. 

2. The Bible has everything to do with you. 

Just as our God is not only transcendent, removed, wholly and holy other, but made Himself immanent and accessible, so it is with His Word. It is true that the Bible is not about us. But it is also true that it has everything to do with us. Yes, it tells God’s story—but He has invited us into that story. 

Scripture teaches us what God is like. It shows us how He works in the world. It tells us everything we need to know for salvation and proper relationship with Him. It models for us how to live in a way that pleases Him and embrace the abundant life He offers.

It can be applied to our lives and speak to our circumstances. Through the piercing, tender work of the Holy Spirit, it can move us to repentance.

It is God’s Word, written in time and space, but speaking to people in all times and spaces. It is both not about you and completely about you.

The Final Step

I think this dichotomy guides the way we approach Scripture. 

When we remember the Bible isn’t about us, we approach it with respect and care. We study it. We pay attention to genre and allow it to shape our reading expectations and approach. We read it in light of its immediate context of surrounding verses and chapters and its big-picture Redemption story context. We notice the use of words and literary devices. We listen for the Word spoken to the original hearers.

If the Bible were any other document, this is where our work would end. We’d put it under our literary and historical microscopes, analyze and dissect, arrive at a conclusion and that would be the end. But because the Bible has everything to do with us and our lives, we don’t end here. After we have done the careful study, we come to the place we can apply it. 

When we understand what God was communicating to the very first audiences of Scripture, we have a solid framework to take that message and apply it to our own circumstances. We can look for an appropriate and correct parallel to our situation and apply the same lesson. 

For example, that oft-quoted, oft-abused verse, Jeremiah 29:11, gains proper clarity. From our study, we know God is talking not to an individual but to a corporate group of His people. We know they are in the darkest days of their history—they will be brutally ransacked, many will die gruesome deaths, God’s presence in the Temple will leave them, and they will be ripped away from their homeland, the land of God’s promise and favor. But God says, “I know the plans I have for you (plural). Plans not to harm you (even though that’s all you can see right now, even though my righteous judgment would give me cause to cast you off). Plans to give you a hope (when now you feel hopeless) and a future (when now it seems all is lost).” This is the message that can be applied to a parallel situation. We know it isn’t just a warm and fuzzy sense that everything will be fine. It’s a sure promise in trial, when all is dark, that God will not abandon His purposes with His people, and that these purposes can never be thwarted.

And so we come to the final step. The place where this glorious and gracious story—that is so much bigger than you or I—touches our little world and shapes our hearts.