I got distracted during church today.

To be honest, that is nothing new.  I feel like I live my whole life in some form of distraction or another.

But before I get into that, I wanted to share some pictures with you of what our summer has been like.

We've snap chatted.

We've gone to the beach.

We've been swimming.

Technically this is the pool at the beach house where we were staying but we've pooled it up other places as well.

We've gardened.  Some more willingly than others.

We've cooked.  A lot.  And by "we" I mean "I".

We've suffered from Olympic hangovers.  

Although, God bless the Olympics.  Watching hours and hours of sporting events has kept my kids from killing each other.

We've started football practice.

I can't even with this picture.  So.Handsome.

Also, we've been a whole lot of ridiculous.  Forgive us, it's the only way we know how to be.

Back to distraction.

For some unknown reason I had a flashback during the beginning of worship this morning.  Back to the first time I willingly stood up in front of people to share something that was on my heart.  It was in church and I was around 11 years old.  I remember it was winter and I was wearing my favorite snowman earrings and my softball jacket.  I looked something like this:

The elementary years were not kind to me.

Oh.My.Goodness.  I'm laughing so hard right now.  Feel free to join me.

Ok, everyone catch their breath?  Good.  Let's continue.

So I thought about my first time speaking to a group and what I looked like.  And I mentally started writing this cute Facebook post to go with this picture.  Something about how everything has to start somewhere even though it might be uncomfortable looking and more than a little awkward.

And then.

Then Pastor Brian started his sermon and I was on the edge of my seat.  Razor focused.  Something I don't even know how to be normally.

It was one of those rare mornings where the people in my pew were quiet and nobody was touching me or each other.  I didn't have to give the stink eye to anyone or subtly reach over and pinch someone back to attention.  It was nothing short of a miracle.

Brian's sermon was titled "Reimagining Our Reach".  He talked about meetings Weaverland's ministry team has been having.  How they have been looking at data compiled from a survey our congregation was invited to take.  How they are asking questions on how we can be more effective in our outreach to our community. 

This past week I've been reimagining my own reach, although I did not have such a nice title for it.

I'm not quite ready to name it for you yet but I'm about to step into a new leadership role.  A role that I feel severely under qualified for.  Straight up, I'm scared to death.

This week I've been a part of emails where I've seen my name attached to "Ministry Chair" and I felt freaked out.  But there have been too many "coincidences" for this to be anything other than the leading of God.

There have been a couple of times this summer when Jake wanted to try something new but was kind of afraid too.  On those occasions I've said to him "Jake, a lot of times something that is fun and exciting is a little scary too.  Sometimes we need to do things scared."  And now Jesus is saying the same thing to me.

So that is where I am at.  Not knowing how this thing will look but trusting the One who does.

Knowing that it might be a little uncomfortable and awkward but also knowing that everything has to start somewhere.

So, if you think of me in the coming weeks I'd love to be covered in your prayers.  Prayers for wisdom and creativity and continued excitement.  Prayers against doubt and disbelief.

I want to honor Jesus thru all my uncomfortable scared awkwardness.

In four days we are leaving for the beach to spend time with my family.  I am beyond excited to spend all that time with the four members of my first family plus the other nine we've added over the last 14 years by marriage and birth.

I've been thinking about water, how soothing sitting on the beach is.  How relaxed I feel listening to the waves crash and recede, crash and recede.

Simply glorious.

I've also been thinking about my spiritual life.  How it needs some water.  I was flipping thru my journal this morning and I came upon an entry from February of this year.  I had written about how I'd fallen away from a consistent time of Bible study and how this area of my life sees so much ebb and flow.  I wrote about how it was time to stop the ebb and get the flow going again.

Except I didn't.

Oh, I did ok for a few months but, to continue with the water metaphor, I've been mostly drifting this year.  There's not been a lot of deep diving going on in my spiritual life.

And yet.

Yet, I feel the tug and pull of Jesus.  Not that he is tugging and pulling me like I'm a stubborn donkey (altho...) but the tug and pull of wanting to feel his presence. 

I taught the 6th grade girl's Sunday school class this past Sunday.  It was about prayer, spending one on one time with God.  And I felt like the worst kind of hypocrite.

The lesson plan made space for the kids to write a poem or short paragraph about spending time alone with God.  It gave prompts such as, why it's important, what makes it difficult, how you feel when you can't get time alone with God.

I wrote this:

Responsibility weighs heavy

there is so much to do

prayer falls by the wayside

replaced by monotonous activity

My soul shrivels

deep thought ceases

I become robotic

drained of life

David says

"My soul pants for you

like the deer pants for water."

how accurate

I feel dry and dusty

barren like a desert

I want life

dunk me in Your river

I started reading in 1 Peter this morning.  Verse 3 of chapter 1 says "In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead."

New birth.  These two words immediately conjure sunshine, warmth, flowers, puppies, and babies in my mind.

But when I think beyond those first thoughts I realize this:  birth is painful and messy.  It's amazingly disgusting (have you ever watched an animal give birth?).  It's hard.  It can take a lot of time.

But it's worth it.

I have been "born again" to use the Christianese term.  I've trusted Jesus as my savior which means I've admitted to my own failings and my need to be saved.  Saved from a meaningless life.   Saved from following the selfish desires of my heart.  Saved from walking alone in my sin.  

But even tho I've been born again sometimes I need a rebirth.  A new commitment.  A fresh start.  

And when I need to put in the hard, painful, messy work of a rebirth Jesus is more than happy to be my coach.  To remind me to breathe.  To remind me that the end result is worth it.

Jesus is constant even when I am not.  

So here's to a new start.  A new commitment.  A rebirth of my passion to follow Jesus.

He is good.  He is faithful.  He is worth it.