When orphans worship.

When orphans worship, their voices are loud, their eyes are closed tightly, and their little hands are gripped together. Your jaw will drop as you watch them physically enter into the presence of a king.

When orphans worship, their voices ache to express their hearts. Their songs are ones of desperation and admiration to a creator who they know holds them in his palm.

When orphans worship, your eyes fill with tears as you feel God all around you. Physically, you are overcome and spiritually you are one with your Lord.

When orphans worship, their last care in the world is what you, I, or their friend thinks of them. They sing loud, undignified, and with passion.

When orphans worship, you begin to wonder if this is what it is supposed to be like for us. You begin to wonder why God's presence is so strong there, but we struggle to enter into any meaningful worship in our clean, well lit, and finely carpeted buildings.

When orphans worship, you are easily convinced that there is nothing else on their minds. Their deep expressions can tell you a thousand stories about the throne room.

When orphans worship, their instruments are their voices and the clap of their hands, but you'd probably swear you also could hear percussion, guitars, and booming pianos.

When orphans worship, they appear as though they have learned something we haven't. While you and I find it so hard to believe that we have a God who loves and desires us, they take no interest in such foolishness.

Copied from Wrecked for the Ordinary.

poverty.

Last night Southside had the privilege of worshipping with the residents of Sunset Terrace. Sunset Terrace is a government housing complex here in Brownwood. Southside has pretty close ties with them. There is a ministry that makes sack lunches on Saturdays for the residents because most of the kids who live there are on the free lunch program at school and don't get those lunches on Saturdays. Every single Saturday the doers ministry is at the church at 10am making over 200 lunches.

Every Saturday. Rain or shine. Cold or hot. wet or dry. Every Saturday.

I have only helped with that ministry once since I have been at Southside, but I was blessed that one time and I plan on helping again.

Anyway, back to the point. Last night we moved our night service to Sunset Terrace to worship with the people. The band played Christmas music and Danny preached. I had planned on staying in the building, but there were SO many kids there that I decided to go outside and help the girls that were playing with the kids. The kids were different than most kids. There were a few wrestling matches I had to break up, a few curse words I had to hush, and lots of rowdy kids not interested in hearing the Christmas story not involving Santa Claus and presents. It was a time that I needed patience. Patience I did not have. We went inside after Danny was done preaching and I began to see the people's hurting faces. These people aren't like me. They don't have a plush and comfy life I have gotten so used to living. At first that's what made me sad. I was sad that they were poor.

Then as I sat and watched them more intently and actually SAW them I realized a lot of these people are much worse off than not having money. They have no hope. No Peace. No Jesus. That should sadden me more than them not having presents to put under the Christmas tree. I become so selfish sometimes and it disgusts me. I want to see people as Christ sees them, but more times than not I see people as lesser than me. That's not fair to them. I am majoring in Social Work so sometimes I get caught up in seeing these people as "clients" and people I am supposed to help get out of poverty. More importantly, as a Christian I am called to help them out of poverty in a whole other way. Why do I forget that so easily?

So listen... I stand corrected...Apparently a lot of bloggers do not fit all of my criteria I posted last time. So sorry for the misunderstanding...

This week...well let's just say...it's been a little bit of a slap in the face...

Piled on top of 2 papers to finish...I have just been sad...Joshua has been such a good fiance this week too. He has probably said some things under his breath about me...but for the most part he's been sensitive and wonderful...that's why I love him....and why I am spending my life with him.

I don't know where us as humans get the idea of being fake. I have often struggled with being real. There have been times in my life when I have tried being real and it didn't go too well.

This semester has been hard...that's a bit of an understatement...don't get me wrong GREAT things have happened...but it has still been challenging. Things haven't exactly met my expectations.

Being real..it's a beautiful thing. I often envy people who are real. However, I never seem to be able to achieve it. This realness...

So many times I have used the good things in my life that have happened to cover up the way I have really been feeling. Why is it such a struggle to be real? Why do I feel as if people want to see me being happy and fake all the time?

I have been convicted of that this week. So here I am...trying to be real. It's a process...

Join me?

Third time's a charm... right?

Facebook has become so complicated and public! There is no where to write my thoughts without having to agree to join this or that group or RSVP to this and that event.

I feel like I would really really enjoy blogging, if I kept it up. I have tried it 3 times now... and this time I would like to continue. When I think about it, the only people I know who blog are people who

1. Are married

2. Have families or

3. are starting families.

Well, I fit none of those criteria. However, I am close to being married...207 days close to be exact. but who's counting? I know that there are not many people who will follow this thing (as I think I have said before) but it'll be fun. A way to get my thoughts out...Lord knows I have a lot of those!

so for the third time...here goes nothing...