Making Your Way Through the Circus

Posted on January 17, 2017 by Paige Givens

 

The first grade teachers at my school take the kids to the circus every year. Last year when I looped up to first grade with my class, I was excited to take my students. A teacher friend said to me, “It’s really fun, but getting from the bus to your seats with all of the kids in tow can be overwhelming.”

Yeah. Understatement of the year.

I prepared my kids ahead of time to put their hands on the person’s shoulders in front of them so that we wouldn’t get separated. And that’s all I did.

So when we got off the bus and started towards the entrance, I first noticed the crowd. It looked as if everyone in Alabama had come to the circus. I had not been since I was a kid, and the crowd was way bigger than I remembered, even on a Friday morning. There were workers for the civic center standing not five feet apart yelling into megaphones. Their directions were so loud that they were hard to decipher, they were sort of “barked” rather than told, and they were at some points conflicting.

“Groups over here! Each person must have a ticket in their hands!”

“If you’re a group come here! Give me a count for your tickets!”

“Single file!”

“You must have your ticket out!”

And on and on and on it went.

Crying babies, yelling children, barking adults. And clowns. Which led to crying babies, yelling children, and more barking adults.

I noticed immediately that my kids were forgetting to do the one thing I had told them to do. They let go of the person in front of them. And they stood wide-eyed and open-mouthed, just looking around in confusion.

So I did what any good adult would do in this situation: I joined in the yelling and barking of orders.

“Guys! Grab ahold of the person in front of you! Follow the person in front of you! You will get lost if you don’t!”

After about twenty feet of me walking backwards and bumping into the crowd which was just so full, I lost about half of my kids.

One adult. Seventeen first graders. And I’ve lost half of them. Pure terror.

The good news is, it only lasted a few seconds, which felt like an eternity to me. I quickly found the line of wide-eyed, open-mouthed children and ushered them back to the other half of my wide-eyed, open-mouthed class. I knew I had to do something for all of us.

By the way, if you’re a first grade pro who has taken your class to the circus like 18 times in a row, just scroll past all of my dramatics and shake your head at me. I finally got it together! 🙂

“Look guys. There is so much noise here. There are so many people who are bumping into you. Yes, there are clowns. There is cotton candy. There are toys. And glow-thingies. But your job is to look at me. Follow me. The shoulder thing? Yeah, that’s not working. Let go of the person in front of you and look at me, the teacher. I’m taller than all of you. Do you see my head? Do you see me? Okay. Do you see me now? Keep looking at me, okay? Follow me and you will not get lost. Do not pay attention to the yellers, the crying people, and the fun toys and food. Pay attention to me and you will not get lost.”

Little by little, they all lost their glazed over expressions and nodded seriously at me. And every one of them followed me easily to their seats.

They just needed to know who to follow.

Look, ya’ll.

In our current society, we are living in a circus. It. Is. A. Circus. Every single day social media is filled up with another story for us to fight over. We have fought over Chick-fil-a, Target, a cup at Starbucks–a CUP, I tell you!–radio hosts, Christian authors who don’t say what we want them to say, and Christian authors who–SURPRISE–don’t agree with all of the alternate lifestyles that are popping up every day. We  fought about two very human people who ran for office as if each of them had the power of heaven and hell. And we are still fighting.

This post is not about my thoughts on Chick-fil-a, although I do enjoy an occasional chicken mini or two. Or six.

This post is not about my view on Target’s new restroom policies, and Starbuck’s choice of cup to sell in December.

This post is not about Rick Burgess, a very popular radio host in my region whose extrememly painful journey with his daughter is being publicly picked apart by everyone far and wide…who have suddenly become experts on family relationships. This is not about his family, although that situation sparked the moments I’ve been spending with Jesus and the words I’m sharing now.

Oh, I have opinions. And I have convictions. Strong ones. I have beliefs. And it gets really tempting to shout scream holler share my convictions. Conviction is important, especially to the Christian. We need to know what we believe and why we beleive it. And we need to examine ourselves before the Lord to see if our convictions hold true to Him and His word.

But that is not what this post is about.

We’ve heard enough on everyone’s stance. We don’t hear another person’s.

This post is about what happens to me when a new exhibit comes to the circus that we call our modern society. And I’m sharing this because I think it’s happening to some of you, too.

So, this past weekend, when everyone’s Facebook and Twitter and whatever else blew up in the Southeast and beyond with the conflict between radio host Rick Burgess and his daughter, the megaphones immediately started blowing.

He turned his back on his daughter. She threw him under the bus. He threw the Bible in her face. She jabbed him right where she knew it would hurt. She is nothing but a sinner. He is not without sin. Divorce is a sin. Gluttony is a sin. Homosexuality is a sin. His is worse. Hers is worse.  

And then came the crowds, the peddlers, the entertainers, and the spectators. They called from every single side.

You’re not showing love. We shouldn’t condemn others. Throw the first stone. Are you without sin? She’s intolerant. He’s intolerant. You’re intolerant. You’re judgemental. You’re a redneck. You’re a hippie. You’re not like me. You don’t agree with me. You’re promoting hate. 

And on and on and on and on. And. On. It. Goes. Until the batteries on these megaphones will start to fade out and the crowds will grow hoarse from their screaming and the lights will begin to lose their luster. We will eventually simmer down from the current argument but our own personal feelings of frustration and anger will fester and grow until the next exhibit comes upon us.

But meanwhile, I’m like one of those first graders in the circus. I started out on this path knowing exactly where I’m going, and then I hit the megaphones. And I started hearing the accusations and the yelling and the rudeness. I started swiveling my head to the left and the right and watching the fingers jab in my face because what I believe doesn’t match up with what someone else thinks should be right.

I start to lose my foothold, so I put  my hands on the shoulders in front of me. That’ll be okay, right? Maybe a favorite Christian author or blogger that I respect so much. Or even a pastor. Ooh, how about one that’s on TV? But then the person whose shoulders I’m grabbing onto stops and joins the fray, and I’m suddenly lost. I’m wide-eyed and open-mouthed, and I’m not getting to my destination anytime soon this way.

When society erupts over a new fight, I know where I stand in my faith. I know Who I belong to. But when I start looking to the left and the right and to other humans for all my answers, who–just like me–are sinners and imperfect, I get lost.

What should I believe about sin, Jesus? It’s wrong, right? It’s all wrong, right? Is one worse than the other? But do we celebrate one sin and not the other? Do we laugh off one sin and hide the other? Lord, am I a sinner if I shop at this place? Am I hateful if I eat at this place? If I show kindness to this person, am I condoning what I think is sin? But what about me? I’m a sinner too, Jesus. No news there. Jesus, if I don’t agree with them, I can still associate with them, right? Lord, I am so mad at that one “megaphone hog” that’s being hateful to me because they don’t like what I believe! I wish I could just…ughh! Jesus, where do I go from here? Jesus, where do I place my foot next?

Jesus?

Jesus.  He is what is missing here. I have started focusing more on the yelling, even the object of the yelling, and even the conviction that starts the yelling…more than Jesus. And that’s exactly where the devil wants me to be.

Jesus? What do you want me to do? Where do you want me to look? 

And suddenly, it all fades away.

Beloved. There is so much noise here. There are so many people who are bumping into you. Yes, there is yelling. There is sin. There are imperfections. And trouble. But your job is to look at Me. Follow Me. Following other humans? That’s not working. Let go of the person in front of you and look at Me, the Teacher. You’re Father. You’re Guide. I’m bigger than all of it. Do you hear Me? Do you see Me? Okay.  Keep looking at me, okay, Child? Follow Me and you will not get lost. Do not pay attention to the yellers, the cryers, the noise, the distractions of your enemy. Pay attention to Me and you will not get lost.

And that is enough. I no longer feel the need to make a political stance, share my opinion, or my views on a host of things that affect the hearts of so many people. I’m not belittling anyone’s feelings or heart, here. But I’m noticing the greatness of my God. He is more important than your feelings or mine. He is more important than the argument.

Friend, if you feel caught up in the current trappings of our imperfect world full of imperfect people, follow the only One who is perfect. He will get you through the circus. He will get  you to your destination. He will use His Word, His voice, and yes, other imperfect people (just don’t grab on too tight to their shoulders, okay? Because no one is perfect.) to show you the way.

“He, your Teacher will no longer hide Himself, but your eyes will behold your Teacher. Your ears will hear a word behind you, “This is the way, walk in it,” whenever you turn to the right or to the left.” Isaiah 30:20-21

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When We Worship the Music Instead

Posted on January 12, 2017 by Paige Givens

“I just can’t worship the way I want to at that church.”

“I feel like I haven’t even been to church.”

“Their music is so boring. What would it hurt to add some drums? They hardly ever even stand up. I need some energy.”

“It’s too loud in that place. And I’m not singing off of a screen. They just sing the same words over and over again. I’m not doing that.”

“We don’t even talk like those hymns anymore. How am I supposed to worship with those words?”

Many who’ve grown up in the Bible Belt (and beyond) of the United States have heard the words mentioned above, or something to their effect. I once traveled to beautiful Brentwood, Tennessee, for a writing conference and  I noticed that there were beautiful, large churches… like everywhere. Seriously, they were all down the streets. That’s not an uncommon sight, especially in the southeastern part of the country.

I feel SO wonderfully blessed to live in a nation where I can worship freely, at the church of my own choosing (the one HE tells me to serve at). But sometimes I wonder if we as a body of believers have become somewhat spoiled in our “churchgoing” acts, and have used those acts to replace the real act of worship. In some areas of our nation, we have so many churches of different sizes, music styles, and program offerings that we tend to sound and act as if we are at a “church buffet”, picking and choosing whatever fits our appetite at the time.

Especially in the area of music. You KNOW what I’m talking about here. Those comments above? You’ve heard them. You may have even said them. I’ve said more than one of the lines as an excuse to not “worship” somewhere. Not my style. Not my brand. Not my preference. Not my decade. Not my genre.

So the Lord is constantly teaching me about worship. And it has taken years to get a few things through my thick skull. I’m vulnerable here, sharing these things that He has taught me. Because worship…it’s what we were made for and I just think that I’ve had it all wrong at times.

Any time that our focus, our preferences, our attentions, and our hearts shift from God to something or someone else, then our worship shifts as well.

When the music in our churches causes us to argue and fuss, then our focus is shifted from God to the music. When the music in our service dictates whether we feel like worshipping or not, then our focus is on the music. And our feelings. And we start worshipping the music instead of God.

No one that I know loves singing more than me (except maybe my parents and sisters..but I don’t know–I love it A LOT!). I. Love. Singing. I love listening to music. I love playing music on the piano. I teach a music class after school. I. Love. Music. Oh my, yes I do!

I especially love Jesus Music. I grew up in “The Singing Munchers,” as our friends affectionately called my family. We sang at all kinds of churches, and we still do on occasion. My dad is a Minister or Music and my mom is a Choir Director at church. I can’t imagine going to church and not  singing.

But, friends, God has taught me–and it has been painful at times–that singing and music is not entirely what worship is all about. At many churches, we still have “Worship” time and then “Preaching” or “Bible Study” time. Aren’t they both acts of worship, though?

For such a long time, I equated our music and singing time at church as my weekly “Worship”. But then, what did I do when it was over? And what if I didn’t like the songs? Would I just miss the worship then, and have to wait until next week to worship?

Ya’ll. You have to be patient with me, I know. I thank my Father that He never left me and He continued to teach me in my ignorance and selfishness.

Worship. It’s not about the music. Yes, singing praises to God is part of our worship, but it’s not the whole thing!

And here’s another newsflash for Paige: Worship. It’s not about me. That one right there is a game changer.

When the worship shifts from me and my preferences, it doesn’t matter if I like the song or not. It doesn’t matter how I feel.

When my focus shifts to the Lord, to His goodness, grace, mercy, and power, every song becomes beautiful. Every beat hits the spot. Everyone’s voice and spirit are in perfect harmony, and every word speaks to my heart. When my focus shifts to the Lord, the worship continues past the music and singing, and onto the offering of tithes and gifts–that’s worship; and onto hearing the preaching of God’s Word–that’s worship; and onto the time of prayer and invitation to the altar–that’s worship, too.

At one pivotal moment in my life as a young adult, I came to the realization that when my focus shifts to the Lord, my worship continues past Sunday, onto Monday. When I roll out of bed, rub my eyes, and open my Bible for a daily devotion time–that’s worship. When I hear Him telling me on Tuesday to go and encourage a lonely friend, to show them love, and I obey–that’s worship.

It’s not about the music. It’s not about me. It’s about Him, and only Him. It’s obedience, and it is a beautiful thing.

2 So they hosted a dinner for Jesus there. Martha served, and Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with Him. 3Then Mary took about a pint of expensive perfume, made of pure nard, and anointed Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of theperfume. ( John 12:2-3)

Image result for mary wiped jesus feet with her hairphoto from mudpreacher.org

In this beautiful story of Mary and Jesus, I see an act of worship. Mary worshipped Him by offering up her most prized possession, a jar of oil that was about a year’s worth of wages, and washing his feet with her tears, then drying them with her hair.

I also see Martha’s worship, as the scriptures say that “Martha served” her Lord.

I see that Lazarus sat with Jesus, which is something that I love to do. Some of the sweetest times of worship that I have known have come from simply sitting with Him, hearing Him whisper to my heart.

I don’t see a mention of singing as we know it today in this story, although it could have happened.

This story…it’s such a sweet reminder to my heart of what worship is and should be in my life.

I love Sundays. I love my church family. They are truly my family and they love me like no other. If you need a church family to love you and take care of you, I encourage you to visit my church if you live close by.

And I love to sing. I LOVE TO SING.

But, sweet friends, I love God more. I am shifting my focus from the music to Him. I encourage you to try it, and I think that the more we shift from us to the Lord, that we will find Him singing to us in ways we could have never imagined before!

He will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17)

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Come to the Table

Posted on December 21, 2016 by Paige Givens

I stumble upon a gathering.

The table settings are exquisite, impeccable. The dishes are beautiful, the glasses are sparkling, and the linens are white. Yes, they are so pure and so white.

There are gifts, perfectly wrapped and placed under a tree.

And the guests, they are …wonderful. Beautiful, happy, so gracious in their manners and movements. They beckon me to stay.

It all beckons to me. The contentedness, the comfort, and the joy. It invites me to come and sit for awhile.

I look down. At me.

My shoes are scuffed, my clothes have seen better days time and time again, and my hair is a mess. In my hands I hold a clumsily wrapped package of something I am convinced no one wants. My cheeks burn red. This is no place for me.

I am turning to leave when a voice stops me.

Come, Daughter. 

Not me. You can’t possible mean me. These are not my people. This is not my place. I have nothing to offer. This is too clean, too pure, too perfect for me.

You belong here. Come sit at the table. By Me. There is room for you.

I know this Voice. It’s the voice of my Father, the One who loves me and pursues me.

I step towards Him, at first tentatively, but He beckons me again and I can’t help but run those last few steps. To Him.

He makes a place for me, He gives me new clothes, and He shows me exactly where to put my gift.

The food is filling, the guests are friends, and my gift is needed.

I came with almost nothing to offer, with filthy clothes, and had long-since thought I’d lost my invitation.

But He was waiting for me. He had a seat just for me. He even clothed me! He used my little gift in ways I wouldn’t have dreamed.

And now, He invites you to the table. You are not too dirty, too clumsy, or too awkward. You have something to offer whether you believe it or not. Your invitation is still open.

He accepts you as you are. But when you accept Him, you won’t stay as you are.

You can’t sit with Him day after day and stay unchanged.

Your place waits for  you at the gathering. Will you come to the table?

All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags.     Isaiah 64:6

For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him. 2 Corinthians 5:21

Let us celebrate, let us rejoice,
    let us give him the glory!
The Marriage of the Lamb has come;
    his Wife has made herself ready.
She was given a bridal gown
    of bright and shining linen.
The linen is the righteousness of the saints.  Revelation 8-9 (The Message)

white-setting

 

 

 

 

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Away In A Manger

Posted on December 15, 2016 by Paige Givens

“6While they were there, the days were completed for her to give birth. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”  Luke 2:6-7

He took His first breath of our flawed air in a borrowed stable. There was no room left to give Him. The crowds gathered in the town were carrying on with their responsibilities as always, unaware that the Savior they’d been waiting for was here.

Did the wind know? Did it sing along with the music of the Messiah’s newborn cries? Did it whisper He’s here! to the trees? Did they sway with the wind, in praise of their Creator, Who had come to earth? Did the animals know that their Master was among them, sleeping in their manger?

manger

Heaven knew. Their precious Jesus had left them for a time. God’s Son, the treasure of heaven and earth, had left glory to go to a people that gave Him their leftovers.

The innkeeper gets a bad rap sometimes. I’ve condemned him several times in my soul. He seriously had no more rooms? Couldn’t he have made room for the King of Kings? But He didn’t know that the Lord was close at hand that night.

And here’s the thing about us. We do know that the Lord is close at hand, and we still give Him our leftovers. We give Him our leftover time (if any’s left), our leftover efforts, our leftover money and resources, even our leftover worship.

He knew this was how we’d be. He knew what we’d do. He knew what it would take to save us, and yet He still came that night two thousand years ago as a Baby to sleep in a manger, on a borrowed bed of hay.

He came, knowing that He would die for us.

Some thirty-three years later, He would borrow another resting place after His death on the cross.

“57 Now when evening had come, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who himself had also become a disciple of Jesus. 58 This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate commanded the body to be given to him.59 When Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, 60 and laid it in his new tomb which he had hewn out of the rock; and he rolled a large stone against the door of the tomb, and departed. ”    Matthew 27: 57-60

He was placed in a borrowed tomb. For three days. When Mary Magdalene came to the tomb on the third day, she found it empty.

“11 Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12 and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.

13 They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” 14 At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.

15 He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.”

She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).

17 Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

18 Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.”      John 20:11-18

He took His first breath as the Risen Lord in a borrowed tomb. There was no grave that could hold Him. The followers and accusers alike were carrying on with their responsibilities as always, either in sadness or false triumph, unaware that the Savior they’d seen crucified was here, living and breathing again.

Did the wind know? Did it sing along with the music of Mary’s cries? I have seen the Lord!  Did it whisper He’s alive! to the trees? Did they raise their branches and leaves with the wind, in praise of their Creator, Who had risen from the dead? Did creation know that Jesus had defeated death and walked among it once again?

Heaven knew. I’m sure the angels were rejoicing with a thunderous roar when their treasured King breathed life again and defeated the enemy once and for all.

Do you know He’s alive? Do you know the Lord is close at hand? Does He have your first fruits or your leftovers?

You see, He left the glory and wonder of His home, of heaven. He left to come and be near to us, with all of our shortcomings and failures. He came for us, so that we could be with Him in heaven some day.

Thank you, Jesus, for being near to me.

Away In A Manger (To Be Near To Me) Paige Givens, 2014  

 

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Mary’s Treasure

Posted on December 9, 2016 by Paige Givens

 “7 And she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.8 And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9 An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. 11 Today in the town of David a Saviorhas been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”13 Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
    and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”16 So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17 When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19 But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”                     Luke 2:7-19 (NIV)

To anyone else, she was just an ordinary girl who went about her business quietly. But to God, Mary was someone very special. She had found favor in His eyes. Mary was chosen to be the mother of Jesus, the Savior born into this world through a miraculous virgin birth.

From the things I know of Mary (as she is portrayed in the Gospels, particularly the book of Luke), I picture her to be a young girl, quiet and gentle. I picture her to be pleasing to her family and friends. I think of her as one who silently watches and contemplates as she works diligently, even while those around her are scurrying busily to complete their tasks.

Can you imagine how this rule-following, people-pleasing young girl felt when she learned that she had found favor with the Almighty God?

And then, can you imagine how she felt when she realized the full implications of living her life as a young, unmarried girl who was suddenly mysteriously pregnant?

I’m sure she did a lot of pondering. If it was me in my very imperfect form,  I would have wanted to do a lot of explaining to others. And then I would have wanted to do a lot of hiding when the stares and the whispers and the outright condemnation came. And then I would have wanted to do a lot of begging when my betrothed wanted to “divorce me quietly.”

I would have done some mourning when I had to leave my home and family, especially at a time when I was “great with child”.

What did she do? What did she do when the first pains came and she had no place to lay down? No shelter over her head? No mother’s hand to hold on to?

What did she say when she realized that the old barn was really it? That she was going to have to lay down on the grimy, dirty ground and have the Baby that was going to save the world?

What did she think when He was born? When she was able to hold her Creator in her arms? What went through her mind when she looked into the eyes of the One who could see into her soul?

How about when the special occasion was crashed by a bunch of shepherds and wise men who wanted to see and worship the Baby? How did she react to their entrance?

I’ve always wondered…did she know? Did she know what He would go through some 33  years later? The angel had told her that He was the long-awaited Messiah. Did she know what would be required of Him to save the souls of all of us? To save her own soul?

“But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” Luke 2:19 (NIV)

She tucked away the events of His birth in her heart and thought about them often, as all mothers do. She had the best war stories of all, I’m sure. While the other ladies talked about how long their labors lasted, how bad their pains were, all she would have had to say was “I had to lay in the floor of a barn with no one’s help but Joseph…”

I can just see their faces now…”You win, Mary!”

And what about His first words? I’m sure she treasured them, too. And His first toddly, wobbly steps. The first time He proudly built something with His carpenter father, Joseph.

Did she remember those first steps as she heard the wondrous recounts of the Savior who walked on the water? Did she remember His first cries as He preached to a crowd of thousands? Did she recall bandaging His little boy-wounds as He healed the sick and the weak with just a touch of His hands?

Did she remember the first time He called her Mama as she stood at the foot of the cross where He hung dying? When He took care of her, even in His time of death?

“26 When Jesus then saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing nearby, He said to His mother, ‘Woman, behold, your son!’ 27 Then He said to the disciple, ‘Behold, your mother!’ From that hour the disciple took her into his own household.”            John 19:26 (NIV)

I don’t know exactly what was going through her mind during these events in her Son’s birth, ministry, and death. But I know that Mary treasured the moments of His birth for a reason. She knew He was special. She knew He was the Messiah. She knew her boy was the One that all creation had been waiting for. The angel had told her He’d be the Most High King.

mary and jesus

But at the moment of His birth, as He slept in His mother’s arms, I think she just simply treasured Him and His love. She forgot about the pain of society’s censure and possible rejection of a young girl who became pregnant out of “nowhere”. She forgot about the stress of moving and having a baby in less-than-convenient circumstances. She just held Him and treasured Him in her arms and in her heart.

Aren’t you glad that this Christmas, you can treasure Jesus and hold Him in your heart, too?

This week’s song is so special to me. I heard these words whispered to my heart right after I got married, before I had my own sons. Each year the words become sweeter and sweeter as I watch my boys grow and think about the relationship Mary had with her own Son, Jesus.

Mary. A servant of the Lord. A ponderer. A treasurer. Mother of our Savior. May we treasure Him the way she did.

Mary’s Treasure   

A baby cries, the stillness breaks. It’s a sound that all creation awaits.

And Mary sighs, does Joseph weep, as they watch their baby fall asleep.

And Mary treasures these things in her heart; Mary treasures these things in her heart. 

The star shines brightly over Bethlehem in a tiny stable, no one had any room for them.

But that’s all right, because soon all will see this is Messiah; He has come to set them free. 

Then the shepherds leave all they have to follow the star that will lead them to the Son of Man

And the kings bow down to worship Him, this tiny Baby who will save them from their sin. 

And Mary treasures these things in her heart; Mary treasures these things in her heart. 

Will she remember little fingers she loves so much as He grows to a Man who heals with a touch of His hand? Does she understand?

Will she remember the cry of her baby boy as He calms the sea with just the sound of His voice and speaks the dead to life again? 

One day she will remember all these things she’s treasured in her heart…

As her baby boy walks to Calvary, and He is bruised and battered and scarred.

But for now He’s asleep in her arms, so she will treasure His love in her heart.

And we can treasure His love in our hearts.

Paige Givens, Copyright 2005 (BMI)

 

Sharing words this week with holleygerth.com and faithalongtheway.com.

 

 

Posted in Devotionals, Music and Songwriting | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

I Played My Best For Him

Posted on November 28, 2016 by Paige Givens

I have a list of songs for every holiday, every occasion, every season. Basically, for everything! Being a lover of music, I call up memories by listening to songs.

Christmas songs have to be my favorite of all. I love the jolly ones, the jingly ones, and especially the mysterious ones, the ones proclaiming that the mystery of Christmas… isn’t really a mystery at all.

“The Little Drummer Boy”  never made my list of Christmas songs in the past. It’s not jingly, it’s not jolly, and it’s not mysterious. At a surface-level listen, “The Little Drummer Boy” is not…anything but extremely rhythmic and full of fun rum-pum-pum-pums.

However, one night as I was driving home from an event alone (extremely rare for this mama–I almost always have my two sidekicks in the car with me!), I listened–really listened–to the words of “The Little Drummer Boy”, and the Lord used it to speak to me. In the song I saw myself and I was changed.

The main idea of the song is that a little guy is beckoned by “them”–I picture kings and wise men–to bring gifts to see the Newborn King of Kings. The little boy is poor and has no gift to bring. He only has his drum, and he plays for baby Jesus.

The words that mean the most to me are these (minus a few rum-pum-pums):

I played my drum for Him 

I played my best for Him

Then He smiled at me, me and my drum.

the-little-drummer-boy

How many times have I felt like I had nothing to give? How many times have I felt like my best was not enough?

This little drummer boy, one who was surrounded by kings in all their splendor, had nothing. Nothing but his drum. He had no physical gift to hand over to the Creator of the World. What he did have, though, was better than any wrapped trinket or shiny present.

He had his all. And instead of keeping it to himself, he shared it with the very One who gave it to Him in the first place.

He played his drum. He played his best.

I saw myself there. How many times do I feel as if  have nothing to give, nothing to offer, when the entire time I am hoarding the very gifts that the King of the World has so graciously given to me?

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. James 1:17

What better way to show  gratitude for these gifts than to use them to glorify the Giver?

What are your gifts, sweet friends? What do you have to offer? Are you an encourager? A prayer warrior? Are you an artist, a preacher, a listener, a creator?

You have a gift to give. You have your BEST to give. Jesus–like you and me–is “a poor boy, too.” He made Himself poor like us. And–yes–until we are made full and perfect in Heaven, we are all poor in some way. Jesus understands our poorness. And He wants our all.

So this Christmas, this year…whether I’m singing, writing, playing, teaching…I’ll play my best for Him. I’ll sing my best for Him. I’ll write my best words for Him. I’ll teach to the fullest. For Him.

Rum-pum-pum-pum.

 

P.S. Here’s an awesome version of “The Little Drummer Boy” that I found that does have a bit of the sound of mystery that I love this time of year!

 

The Little Drummer Boy

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Kindergarten Students Write About America’s Week

Posted on November 10, 2016 by Paige Givens

It’s been a long week,  America. We’ve fussed and argued and cried and argued and prayed and argued and resolved to stop and then kept arguing. We are like kids stuck in the backseat on a trip that has no end in sight, and we’re tired and whining and arguing. 

My newsfeed is full of it, and I can’t seem to stop reading it, even when I say I don’t want to anymore. The arguing–it is a vacuum churning over our dirt, America, and we are the ones getting sucked in instead of the dirt.

If we put half as much effort into spreading love–real, honest love–not the kind that says I love you so I’ll say whatever you want to hear–unconditional love–not the kind that says You must 100% agree with everything I say to love me–we might could get out the path of the churning wheels and try cleaning up our own dirt.

My kindergarteners, they are so honest and funny and pure. Their understanding of this wonderful country that they live in is just beginning. Their thoughts are beginning to take shape about the land of the free and the home of the brave. And I get a front row seat to their innocence and profoundness.

So I’m choosing to lean more their way. I’m choosing to celebrate this land, the one that God has shed His grace on since our conception. This land was made for YOU and ME, not just me and the ones that agree with me!

I leave you with my kindergarteners’ thoughts on our week, America. They had no agenda, no motive to these writing pieces, except that they wanted to put their thoughts onto paper . They wrote without the fear of offending others, without the fear of being picked apart, without the fear of being verbally assaulted just because others disagree with them. They are beginning to learn the joys of writing and I pray that joy isn’t sucked up by the vacuum of arguing someday.

I’m so thankful for the ones who have sacrificed home, family, and comforts to make this land yours and mine. Happy Veteran’s Day! God bless America.

What did you think about Election Day/Evening?

asleep-on-couch

“I fell asleep on the couch!”

I wish I could’ve. I wish I could’ve.

I was more like this one…

stayed-awake

“My mom stay(ed) awake.”

Apparently with the crazy-loud hooting night owls.

This friend learned about the candidates from his parents, who just happened to be registered to vote at a church.

church

“I went to church and learned about Donald Trump.”

Oh, the irony here.

And before that big ol’ vacuum cleaner gets cranked up, just calm yourselves down. No, this child did not go to church and hear his pastor teach about Donald Trump. His parents voted at a church and then told him about the candidates. Mr. Trump, our President-Elect, stood out in his mind, maybe because he is now the President-Elect. 😉

This friend chose to draw a picture of herself with “that boy who won last night.”

drawing

“That boy’s” hair is spot on! 😉

What do you know about Veterans?

vets

“Veterans are strong and they never give up and they ride a Jeep!”

What do you want to say to Veterans?

fighter

“Thank you for being a fighter!”


thank-you

“Thank you for being a hero!”

 

This is what I want to fill my newsfeed with. No arguing here. Just pure, straightforward thoughts.

Happy Veterans day to the fighters andthe heroes  who never gave up. We honor you.

Posted in Teaching, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

What if You Had to Vote for Moses?

Posted on November 8, 2016 by Paige Givens

“There’s no one to vote for.”

I’ve heard it over and over. I’ve even said it a few times.

“There’s no good choice for our next President. What are we going to do?”

I admit, I have moments when I think about the future with uncertainty and no small amount of anxiety. I heard someone ask how we as a nation got to the point where our two choices for President are the two left.

And yes, I was hoping and even praying months ago that God would bring out a strong leader from the United States who would just blow us all away with their leadership and integrity and dignity. Someone like Moses in the scriptures, or even Noah, or like the Apostle Paul.

And then I got to thinking…would I have even voted for any of them?

Would I have voted for Moses? The guy who didn’t really know where he belonged? The one who was born a Hebrew but raised in splendor as a royal Egyptian, and then left it all? Would I have voted for Moses when I found out he’d killed someone and ran?

By human standards, Moses was not really leadership material. He could hardly speak. He was married to a non-Israelite. He was just a shepherd from nowhere. Would I have voted for him? Would I have even considered him?

God did. God used Moses to lead His people out of Egypt. And God allowed Moses to continue showing his own human-ness and imperfections as the Israelites fledged around the wilderness. Yet God still used Moses. Through Moses and his staff, God did many miraculous works.

I’ve read his story so many times. So many times, in fact, that I forget the humanity of Moses and even the Israelites. They’d waited in slavery for so many years that they had to be skeptical of his leadership. If I’d been there, I can’t say that I’d have voted for Moses.

If he were here today, mumbling and sweating his way through a debate, he’d be touted as weak. If he insisted on letting his brother speak up for him, he’d be laughed off the ticket.

Would I have voted for Noah? The “crazy” who predicted rain when it had never even sprinkled ? Would I have believed him? Would I have helped him build his strange contraption called an ark, or would I have given up after the first 50 years?

Noah didn’t have a huge following…of the human kind. As a matter of fact, no one but his family followed him onto that ark full of animals. The world was so corrupt that God decided to wash it clean with a flood. However, Genesis 6:8 tells us that “Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord.” Through Noah and his unwavering faithfulness, God showed the world that His promises will never fail.

Noah’s story is so much more than a child’s Sunday School tale. It’s a true story of a man’s blind faith and trust in a Father who is still God when the world seems to have turned its back on Him. If I’d been there, I don’t know that I would have stood behind Noah and his ark.

If he were here today, Noah would be ridiculed in every shape and form on all social media known to man. He’d have his own Twitter hashtag of harrassment, there’d be memes for days, and he probably wouldn’t even make it to the debate stage. He’d be too busy building anyway.

Would I have voted for Paul? I’ll go ahead and say it right now…

No.

This one…this one gets to me.

I would’ve been too scared to vote for Paul…formerly Saul, killer of Christians. I would’ve questioned his honesty, his sincerity, his changed heart. I would’ve doubted his whole Damascus Road experience as a hoax to “get support” from followers.

Paul was not a stranger to the role of leadership. Formerly Saul of Tarsus, he was a leader in the persecution of the early Christian church until he was temporarily blinded and permanently changed by God on the road to Damascus, where he was headed to persecute Christians. From that moment on, Saul became Paul, and he set the world on fire for the Christ who had invaded his heart. He wrote many letters of the New Testament, and shared God’s word until he died his own death of persecution.

If Paul were running today, he’d have his work cut out for him. He’d have some convincing to do…to show the followers of Christ that he was who he said he was. Would there be enough time to change the hearts of so many doubters and skeptics? Would I even be listening to him or would I be too busy running for the hills?

This is not a political blog post. I am not telling you who to vote for. This is a post about how it’s not late or too hopeless for God to change a nation. If God could use people like Moses, Noah, and Paul to change the world, could He not use anyone today? He placed regular, imperfect people in specific places in time and chose to use them to change history forever.

Even when His people doubted, when they strayed (faaarrrrr from Him), and when they feared, God gave them a new start. And He used flawed people to do it. He can still do that today.

No matter who’s on the ticket!

 

“God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: ‘I AM has sent me to you.'” Exodus 3:14

“By faith Noah, being warned of God of things not seen as yet, moved with fear, prepared an ark to the saving of his house; by the which he condemned the world, and became heir of the righteousness which is by faith.” Hebrews 11:7

“Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle and set apart for the gospel of God…” Romans 1:1

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” Jesus Christ, John 16:33

Posted in Devotionals, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 12 Comments

The Path No One Knew Was There

Posted on November 1, 2016 by Paige Givens

Your road led through the sea, your pathway through the mighty waters–a pathway no one knew was there! Psalm 77:19

Have you ever found yourself on a road that you didn’t intend to be traveling? It can be surprising, challenging, and maybe even a little scary at times.

I am not known for my skills with directions. Or even driving. As a matter of fact, I’m more known for my lack of ability to follow driving directions.

My sisters and I were supposed to sing at an event in North Alabama about a year ago, and for some reason, we all decided that I should be the one to supply the directions. Yes, me. I’m not sure what prompted this sudden lack of sense on all of our parts, but it happened, and we all relied on myself to provide directions to the event.

Well, in keeping with tradition, did I decide to check my GPS for directions to this tiny town in rural Alabama? Or maybe Google maps? Nope. I used MapQuest. Yes…Yes, I did. Now, I’m not sure about your past experience with MapQuest, which was great in it’s beginning stages of online use about 16 YEARS AGO. But in the twisting, winding country roads of my great state, MapQuest can quickly land you at an old pumphouse when you were really headed to an amusement park.

Not that I’m speaking from experience or anything.

So I printed off (yes, printed off) MapQuest directions to the event and as soon as we left the well-known highways of home, we got lost. Further and further we drove. The worst part is, at first we didn’t realize we were on the wrong path. See…we sing while we drive. Like three-part harmony singing. Close-your-eyes-and-belt-it-out singing (except for the driver 🙂 ). And there we were, singing our hearts out and driving our way off of any MapQuest path there ever was!

When we realized we were lost, there was no way that MapQuest could help us. We stopped singing and started looking. An uneasiness crept in, followed by a full on panic that we wouldn’t make our event, followed by another full on panic that we’d never find our way out. We had to call on our contact at the event when we finally found a fledgling signal. A contact who–at first–couldn’t even figure out where we were! He asked us to call out landmarks. There was some grass, some trees, pastures, a few stray cows, and a road. That was all.

It was not a good feeling.

Finally–FINALLY!–we saw a sign for the “town” we were in, though I use the word “town” pretty loosely here. We told our contact the town, and he said, “How in the world did you end up there?!?” He enlisted the help of several friends at the event, much to our dismay. They were all gathered around his phone, calling out roads and turns. By the voices of those who knew the terrain, we were led to a path that you wouldn’t even know existed. Once we landed on this wonderful, rutted, potholed path, we reached our destination in what seemed like a few minutes, and relief enveloped us all.

And that’s the story of how Paige was never asked for directions again.

Friends, have you ever ended up on a strange path? Have you ever been in so deep that you saw no landmarks? Nothing familiar? Sometimes we don’t even realize we’re headed in that direction.

It can start with a stray thought. A thought we have no business inviting in. Without realizing it, the thought takes root and sprouts into small actions. Small actions become big ones, and all of a sudden we look around and don’t even recognize where we are or how we got there. We’ve left the familiar highways of home and we’ve ended up on a strange path. How do we get back?

It can start with a trial in our lives or in the lives of our loved ones. We can end up on a path we never asked to travel. One full of despair. We can be surrounded by the unknown, by fear, and by doubts. How do we get back?

It can even start with obedience! God can call us out to a place that we didn’t intend in our own plans to go to. It can be exciting. It can be challenging. It can even be a bit scary. We wonder, If I go down this path can I still get back home?

Here’s the thing. No matter what path you are on, no matter how you got there, how far you have gone, or how deep you are in, HE can get  you back home again. HE knows the terrain. God can get you back by using a path that no one even knew was there.

He did it time and time again in the Bible. We are reminded of how He brought the Israelites towards home in the Psalms. “Your road led through the seas, your pathway through the mighty waters–a pathway no one knew was there.”

The Israelites were surrounded by Pharaoh’s army. And by oppression of the past. And by doubts. And a sea.

Friends, the whole time they traveled, their path was right there, under the mighty waters. No one even knew it existed.

But God…

He knew. He could’ve gotten them out on any road. And He chose the sea. The path cleared before their eyes, and He got His children across and on the path towards home.

What path are you on today? Are you lost? Are you troubled by sin, by despair, by sickness? Are you on a new path of new opportunities, but it’s still one that’s unfamiliar? No matter where you are, He can get you where you need to be.

He can get you home, lost one.

He can get you well, sick one.

He can get you to the next open door, hopeful one.

He can get you from the impossible to the  possible.

Listen for His voice, because of all the twisty, tangled roads in this world, His is best, and it’s usually right before our eyes. Listen carefully, look closely, and tread confidently. He’ll lead you to the greatest places.

On a path you didn’t even know was there.

 

Posted in Devotionals, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | 11 Comments

The Broken Puzzle Piece

Posted on October 6, 2016 by Paige Givens

“Mrs. Givens, I can’t finish this puzzle. This piece is broken.”

My kindergarten student held a single puzzle piece out to me that was missing an edge.

“Wait!” said a friend. “Here’s the broken part.”

“So? It’s still broken. I can’t finish this one.”

“Yes, you can. They’re all broken up anyway. Just ah-tend (pretend) that this is two pieces instead of one.”

Wait. What?

I KNOW that was You, Lord. What a word, spoken from the lips of a little, pure child.

We are a broken people living in a broken world. Every day, those around us hurt for a multitude of reasons. Life throws darts at us that break us into pieces.

Maybe YOU are broken…reading this right now, thinking That’s me. That relationship, that physical problem, the stress, the defeat, the depression, the sin…it’s left you feeling like a pile of broken pieces.

Rahab was a broken woman. In the Old Testament book of Joshua we first see her as a woman of ill repute from Jericho. The first time she is mentioned in the Bible, she is referred to as “a prostitute whose name was Rahab” (Joshua 2:1). But Rahab looked through all of the broken pieces of her life and saw the only One who could put her back together again. She saw a Father who loved her enough to not only spare her life, but to use her in spite of her brokenness. Rahab was used to help the Israelites overtake the city of Jericho.

It comes as no surprise to me that God chose to use a woman like Rahab, in all of her broken glory. Her life was spared–and put back together–by a scarlet cord.

Behold, when we come into the land, thou shalt bind this line of scarlet thread in the window which thou didst let us down by…and whosoever shall be with thee in the house, his blood shall be on our head, if any hand be upon him.Joshua 2:18-19

Have you ever noticed what makes a puzzle distinctly a puzzle? When it’s all finished, and you are standing back to admire all the pieces put together, you still notice the faint lines of each piece. The lines weave and wrap their way through the entire big picture.

Without each piece, the puzzle will be incomplete. Even the “worst of the worst”…the pieces that are themselves broken by kindergarten fingers…are needed in order to fit the big picture.

Every broken piece of your life matters to the One who puts it all together. Even the ugly pieces, the ones you don’t want to remember. The broken, bent,and scratched ones. They are all important to your Maker. And the thread that holds it all together?

That’s the thread of Jesus.

It’s His blood, sometimes referred to the Scarlet Thread in the Bible. His blood takes even the dirtiest broken pieces of our life and makes them clean again.

Give Him your broken pieces today. Even the ones you wanted to throw away or sweep under the rug. He’s the Master Artist, and He’ll make a beautiful portrait of grace out of our broken, misjointed pieces.

Rahab’s bigger picture was more beautiful than she would’ve dared to imagine. In the New Testament, the “prostitute whose name was Rahab” (Joshua 2:1) is named in the very lineage of Jesus Christ, the Messiah.

The Giver of the Scarlet Thread.

The Builder of broken pieces.

The One who is ready to take your broken pieces today. I can’t wait to see the masterpiece!

Image result for a broken puzzle piece

 

Posted in Devotionals, Uncategorized | 6 Comments