By Daniel Thomas, CGS Musician

I am stressed out.

This month is a perfect storm of scheduling that has left me three steps behind on almost every task I have, and running on even less sleep than my insomniac body and mind normally gets. When I was younger, I (like many others) thrived on this stress, and I even gained energy during these times. It is that adrenaline, that excitement, that lets us pull all-nighters to write a paper or cram for a test, that doesn’t mind staying at work the extra couple of hours to get the project proposal done, that can clean the house and do all the laundry, and after all that can go out for a beer with our friends, then get up the next morning and do it all again. Now I want to chuck it all in the air and go crawl under the covers until April.

Perhaps it’s me getting older, or perhaps it’s that my overcrowded schedule now affects not just me, but my family. But what I’ve also found is, while my younger self also thrived on sharing just how stressed I was with everyone I knew (and this was before social media), my older self wants to keep it to myself. Put my head down and get it all done as best I can.
There’s an argument to be made on both sides of this: if I don’t let people know that I’m struggling, how can they offer me support and help? Surely my friends, my family, my co-workers would be more than willing to reach out and lend a hand when things get tough. I know that they would, and I’m grateful and appreciative for them. On the other side (and this is the side that currently prevails), what do I really have to complain about? I have a job, a loving family, a home, and my health, and I’m not in imminent danger of losing any of those things. Even at my most stressful times, I recognize I’m in better shape than billions of other people. So why is there the impulse – within me, and within so very many people, especially on social media – to not just share our struggles, but to prove that we’re the most stressed? Half of the posts I see are about what’s gone wrong with someone’s day – not directly reaching out for help, not directly asking for prayers – but the passive-aggressive “look how hard it is for me” trolling for “aw, poor you” comments and clicks on the sad face. Is this how we “win” today?

The verse I think of when in these situations is Galatians 5:22-23:
22 By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things.
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I use a variation of this when I pray with Joshua at night – I ask God to help us be loving, tolerant, forgiving, kind, and thoughtful. I try and remember that no matter how stressed we might get, no matter how “bad” things seem to be (and I use the quotes to again remind myself how lucky we actually are), that the path Jesus walked was lined with positivity, and that trying to salve our bruised souls through a competition is only going to add to our struggles and burdens.

I hope that when you feel stressed or overburdened that you can simply reach out to your loved ones and say “I need a little help.” I think you’d be surprised at the response.

Greetings and blessing to you my fellow church members. As a member of your church council, I am told this is my month to write an article for the bulletin and update you on some of the actions and directions of the council.

At our Council meeting in December we discussed the need to address the needs of our members and friends who are especially vulnerable to infection. Out of that, I was appointed to lead a task-force to address these concerns. As I reviewed the available literature on infection control and churches I found a wealth of information and the universality of this problem across religious communities. The following people have agreed to be a part of this committee: Joy Larsen, Sophie Jobe, Judith Steger, Sara Tiller, and Susan Duran. We are working on a number of ideas to include disinfectant hand wash stations, changing the possibilities for the passing of the peace, providing gloves for service in the kitchen, providing masks. We have more work to do and further prayerful discussion to consider all the ways that we can decrease the risk of infection from communicable diseases in church. Some other areas being discussed are evaluating the standards suggested by the CDC and schools, evaluating our cleaning practices, having available pins for members who wish to communicate their vulnerability to disease so we can respect their needs. We have found many handy fliers that can be posted in key areas of the church to remind us of the most important practice which is hand washing. Unfortunately we were unable to meet in February mostly due to my inability to set up an online meeting, so our next meeting will be March 5th. I am so thankful that we are able to address the needs of the most vulnerable in our midst. More to come!!!

Bob Charves, RN and church council member
 

by Rey Lambatin, Choir Director
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As part of the special celebration worship we did this past Sunday with Christ Community Church, one of our choirs, the Keynote Vocal Group, sang “Sisi Ni Moja,” a song partly in Swahili and partly in English. Composed by Jacob Narverud, the title translates "We Are One," the theme being that all human beings have much in common. I believe this rings especially true in CGS where quite a number of our members come from varied cultures with different languages, backgrounds, and personal stories. Yet in spite of our differences, we are one in our needs and wants: to experience the joy of fellowship with one another, and to be encompassed with love and support from each other, our community, and our God. To help us understand more the song’s message, here is its full text:
 

We all laugh, we all cry, we all feel hunger, we all feel pain.
We all love, we all hate, we all hope, and we all dream.
We are one world, one people, and we all breathe the same.
A tribe of many languages, a group of many heartaches,
fighting for peace among the land.
Heja, heja, sisi ni moja. Heja, heja, sisi ni moja.
Heja, heja, sisi ni moja. Heja, heja, we are one.
We all want, we all need, we all seek passion, we all seek joy.
We all bruise, we all scar, we all fail, but learn to thrive.
We are one world, one people, and we all breathe the same.
In the darkness of the night and in the glory of the morning,
we walk along the path and find our way.
Heja, heja, sisi ni moja. Heja, heja, sisi ni moja.
Heja, heja, sisi ni moja. Heja, heja
Now we stand here together and lift our heats in song
To the rhythm of this moment in our lives:
Heja, heja, sisi ni moja. Heja, heja, sisi ni moja.
Heja, heja, sisi ni moja. Heja, heja, we are one.
 

About the composer: Jacob "Jake" Narverud was born in 1986 and is an American composer, arranger, and conductor. Holding degrees from the Conservatory of Music at University of Missouri - Kansas City (Doctor of Musical Arts, Master of Music, Choral Conducting) and Emporia State University (Bachelor of Music, Voice Performance), he has taught at both secondary and collegiate levels. A native of Meriden, Kansas, Narverud is the Founder and Artistic Director of the Tallgrass Chamber Choir since it was established in 2009. He is currently based in New York and is an active guest conductor for district, regional, and all-state choirs across the country.

By Pastor Manda
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

That last sentence is familiar to you. But how many times have you connected it to prayer? The tangible things of this life are all, by design, finite. But prayer – that connection to God herself – is immortal. There is nothing that can separate us from the love of God, and still, the way that we relate to that God can affect our lives.

I remember the first time someone told me that I should be the first answer to all my own prayers. Before hearing this I had a hard time reconciling the practice of prayer that had been taught to me with the way I understood God. I didn’t believe that God was Santa Claus, or a wish-granting fairy, or a holy judge who could or not grant me clemencies. So if prayer wasn’t a request for mercy or blessings, and it wasn’t a time to list grievances, what was it for?

When my mentor told me that I should be the first answer to my own prayers they introduced me to the idea that prayer can shape my thinking. By opening a conversation with God about the things that were on my mind and on my heart, they would be opened. I had to remember what God said about similar things in scripture, what I had learned from my community of faith, what others who had gone before me had hypothesized. This internal dialogue could open me up to considerations that were difficult to hear, shameful to admit, or too complex to understand.

That practice sometimes led me to hearing God speak in the voice of my mother. Sometimes it made me hear God in the voice of poets, historical figures, friends, or enemies. Each time, because I was searching for the voice of God, I had to carefully consider if these people had been speaking the Word. Sometimes I had to decide if I was choosing to make God how I wanted to see them, or if I was allowing God to be something other than I desired.
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All of this was discernment: figuring out, wrestling with, wondering. Which, it turns out, is exactly what prayer is.

A life of faith isn’t alive unless we’re taking part in it. We could barrel ahead with what we think is right but knowing our identity as people of God means stopping long enough to ask and discern what God’s will might be. I can think of at least 10 things happening in our community of faith that require prayer. What else is happening in your life that could use some prayerful discernment?