Archives for the month of: June, 2012

I had a brief moment of being myself a few nights ago.


I’m a rockstar princess who loves to perform. For the past four years, the extent of my “performing” was occasionally leading music for church services. I love doing that, don’t get me wrong, but it’s different than being on a real stage for a real audience. I lead worship for God. There’s a congregation joining in, but it’s all for an audience of just One.

This past Friday I worked way too many hours. My workday started at 7am and finally ended at 11pm. As I was driving home, a friend called me and asked me to meet him at one of the local bars. I was so tired that my eyes were burning, but I was just around the corner so I agreed. I walked in and was happy to see familiar faces. Some of my band was there. The band that I’d been leading worship with for the past five years.

The band that was playing at the bar knew the few guys in my band and asked if they wanted to do a few songs. They agreed, which is why they called me. They needed a singer. Without a second thought I agreed! It was performing, not leading worship. A change from our usual routine. This was a gig, not a church service. We had more freedom to be goofy and the guys had more freedom to show off their stellar guitar skills.

So I sang one of Taylor Swift’s songs with my worship team band in a smokey bar scattered with inebriated people. It was loud and chaotic and I hadn’t rehearsed. But guess what, I rocked it. My talented musicians backing me up had a great time and one of them even sang harmony.


Musicians make music. It’s just what we do.
Musicians who are in love with God make music for God. It’s just what we do.
So that’s just what we did.

Maybe my talents and gifts would be better used doing something more “christian”. But, for that one night, I was myself. Singing a Taylor Swift song at a bar. That was my act of worship. I was all in and fully enjoying and using the passions God gave me. It was an untraditional way to bring light into a dark place. It was an untraditional act of worship.

-andrea (the rebellious writer of this blog)


**Just to put you at ease about me being in a bar… I’m over 21 years of age. I was being responsible. I was with people that I knew. I didn’t dance on any tables. And, the best part of it? The only thing I had to drink the entire night was water.


Some days, I want to dive all in. I want to read every blog on the blogroll and crack a theological stalemate and pull a couple of books off of my dusty cubicle shelf and put all of my empty down time to excellent use. I want to be studious and industrious and full.

And then I get to work. I settle into my office chair. This is not a comfortable, satisfying “settle into my office chair”. It is a dismal settling down. Like settling into the chair in a doctor’s waiting room. You fully know that everything to follow this act of being seated will be dull at best, miserable at worst.

I settle down into my office chair.

All of my high aspirations settle down too.

Another day passes and I haven’t reached much further than to switch on the lamp in the far corner of my gray-walled world. Minds, like muscles, atrophy. I was going to work mine out today. But I settled instead. No blogs. No theology. No books.

How do you to inspire yourself to press through monotony? I am looking for suggestions because tomorrow I will march into this same office and settle into this same chair… and somehow, I want to keep my mind aloft.


~Annie Bolger Quick, editor

And then comfort comes.

Sometimes it’s quiet and gentle. Other times it’s more loud and abrupt. Sometimes it’s with a cup of tea. A nap. A book. A few quiet hours. With words poured out on a blank page. With some reassuring advice. A hug. A long run. A road trip. With yelling in my car. A baby’s snuggles.

Comfort comes with the acceptance of what’s happened and the desire to move forward.Comfort doesn’t come by forcing organization upon chaos, but by making sense of it. Organizing and beautifying the chaos, disaster, and heartache would be a discredit to it. The goal is to find hope and peace at the end of it without degrading the pain, but easing it in the light of truth. God’s truth. The only truth.

And that’s when comfort comes. Seeing chaos through the pure light of God’s truth.