Amy Writes

I have decided to show a little grace to myself and allow a re-post of an older entry for this week's Remarkable Faith post. Now that Steven Tyler the Idol Judge moves me to tears almost weekly, I find this post to be maybe truer for me than before...enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------- As I've said before, my mind tends to wander a bit on Sunday mornings. It wanders to the store, it wanders to the calendar, it wanders to the mismatched paint colors above the east door. Sometimes it wanders to scripture unrelated to the message - I consider that some kind of victory, although I'm not sure it's a point in my favor, since it's still evidence that could be used against me, should someone be peeking over my shoulder. Anyway, one Sunday this summer, my mind wandered to the Aerosmith concert we were planning to "attend" the next night. I noticed that I was starting to feel giddy, which started me thinking: Why am I 187 ...

As I've said before, my mind tends to wander a bit on Sunday mornings. It wanders to the store, it wanders to the calendar, it wanders to the mismatched paint colors above the east door. Sometimes it wanders to scripture unrelated to the message - I consider that some kind of victory, although I'm not sure it's a point in my favor, since it's still evidence that could be used against me, should someone be peeking over my shoulder. Anyway, one Sunday this summer, my mind wandered to the Aerosmith concert we were planning to "attend" the next night. I noticed that I was starting to feel giddy, which started me thinking: Why am I 187 times more excited about that concert than about being here this morning? Why can I already feel it in my bones? What is it about the prospect of Steven Tyler screaming on stage that excites me more than being here, worshiping my Creator? So, as I followed my mind on this little sojourn, I came to a couple of possibilities, but I...

A few of us have been wrestling a little bit lately with what it means to live in the grace of God. What does it mean to live fully covered by the Gospel? To embrace the freedom Christ secured for us on the cross? For me, last night, it meant big hair and hard rock. See, over the summer, I'd started to get a little self-conscious about my holiness. I was part of a study at church that consisted of mainly older, wiser, more conservative and traditional women. While I still felt largely like a voice of dissent - a raging postmodern compared to this crowd - there was a certain feeling starting to set in. An old nemesis. I can't believe I didn't recognize it, as we' spent so much time together in the past. Guilt. Guilt that I wasn't the teetotaling, perfect homemaking, gentle-speaking mother that I was being mentored to be in this class. I used my powers of wit and sarcasm to mask and suppress it, but with each chapter and interaction the guilt seeped deeper...wit...

You probably know by now that I'm a music lovin ' girl. An aficionado of the concert event. A live performance snob. My many years of arena shows have been fulfilling. Not in a Jesus-replacing kind of way, but in a "talent like this is evidence of God" and "emotional response this powerful is evidence of a soul" kind of way. Regardless of who is onstage singing about what, and what they did before or after the show, I have that kind of affirming experience. Now, you know how I feel about Billy, and the decision I made regarding his last tour. We've been through that. And you know how I feel about Third Day, and how I got way up there on my high horse about their ticket prices at their last show here. I'm becoming far more protective of my live music budget in my old age, which makes these upcoming decisions kind of difficult. So I seek your advice. First, you should know that I am in possession of a very hot ticket for the end of May. VERY hot. An...