Communers not Consumers: 6 Ways to Build Community in your Church

What do you want in a church?  A strong youth program, a fantastic minister, visionary elders, lots for your kids to do?  

Would you trade all of that for community?  You know a church where everyone knows you, not your mask but the real you, and loves you anyway?  A place where you are integral, where you are missed, where you are needed?  A place where you know everyone.  Their hurts are yours, their joys are your, their children are like your own nieces, nephews, grandkids.  No, if you had that, you'd be a part of that church for the rest of your life. 

Scrubbing Soap Scum for Jesus

One Wednesday I woke up and scrubbed the bathroom. It was the start of an amazing day from God. 

I live in the Wyoming desert.  Rock Springs is one of a pair of twin communities almost a 100 miles of highway away the next town.  We have the hardest water of anywhere I have ever lived. I would like to write, “I am constantly battling soap scum,”  but it’s more like soap scum is constantly winning battles I forgot to show up for.  But this Wednesday, I made a bottle full of the “magic” soap scum cure (Dawn and vinegar) and went to work. 

'Twas the Day after Easter

'Twas the day after Easter and the plastic grass is semi-glued to the candy.  Halves of plastic eggs are lurking in the yard ready to pulverize bare feet and become shrapnel for the push mower. Tummy aches and leftover sugar highs are making parents more miserable than the kids.  Tiny suits and dresses hang in closest and photos are sent out to develop.

'Twas the day after Easter and millions of people brim with the joy of the Lord.  They rejoice in the love of Christ's sacrifice, they revel in the morning arrival at the tomb; they shout with the millions on high, "He is risen! Christ is risen indeed!"  But Monday has arrived.  Spring break is over and it's time to go back to work, back to school.  It's time to return to the mundane and leave our spiritual high behind. 

What is an Older Woman Worth?

I once had an older woman tell me she doesn't go to church

anymore because "...church is for young folks and children. They need that in their youth to set them straight. I'm not in need of it now, and no one needs me there."  How my heart broke for that woman!  But I know that she is not alone in her thoughts, even if others may not drop out of attending worship as she had done.

The Diligent Woman: An Interview

Angela Legg blogs at The Diligent Woman and has a new edition of her book To Be A Handmaid of the Lord coming out very soon!  I had the privilege of interviewing her for you today.  (Interested in just buying the book?  Check out the review.)

Angela, I know your family has been an inspiration in your writing; can you introduce them and tell us about yourself as a mom?

Bryan and I have been married 22 years this June. We have five daughters, all at home. They are currently ages 19, 18, 13, 8, and 6.  Hmm, I never thought about describing myself as a mom—authoritative but hands-off? I’m a no-nonsense kind of mom. I teach them the things they need to know and then stand back and give them room to act on the knowledge.

To Be a Handmaid of the Lord: A book review

When I recently wrote "Sister Value Yourself," an old blogging friend popped up in the comments, Angela Legg.  She spoke up on this post, I'm sure, because she and I share a soap box or two.  We believe women should be encouraged to eat of the meat of the Word of God.  That so many of the failings of women in our culture are because they don't recognize their value in God's eyes.  That the most important thing we can do as teachers of women is point them back to God's love and His word!  

It's these ideas that drove the new edition of her book, To Be a Handmaid of the Lord.  I reviewed the first edition two years ago when it was designed as challenging Sunday School or homeschool material for pre/young teen girls.  And I was impressed with it then. 

Twitchy and Giggles or Why I I Have a Communion Problem

Standing at the front, a solemn brother reminds the congregation that the bread he holds in his hands is the body of Jesus Christ.  Sitting in the pew, I raise an eyebrow as the kid I JUST told to put her feet down sneaks them back up.

He entones, “Let us pray.”  With half an eye open, I keep watch on Twitchy and Giggles ready to thump them if they get too loud.