Thoughts on Worship

Over the last month or so, I have been considering the hows and whys of worship. My thoughts are vast and varied, so in an attempt to clarify them, I thought I would pose some questions and discuss them here. If interested, feel free to post your own thoughts. No right or wrong answers here.

The history of the Christian faith clearly exhorts the believers to gather together for worship.

Acts 20
7 And upon the first day of the week, when the disciples came together to break bread, Paul preached unto them, ready to depart on the morrow; and continued his speech until midnight.
8 And there were many lights in the upper chamber, where they were gathered together.

Nehemiah 9
1 Now in the twenty and fourth day of this month the children of Israel were assembled with fasting, and with sackclothes, and earth upon them.
2 And the seed of Israel separated themselves from all strangers, and stood and confessed their sins, and the iniquities of their fathers.
3 And they stood up in their place, and read in the book of the law of the LORD their God one fourth part of the day; and another fourth part they confessed, and worshipped the LORD their God.

Psalms 26
12 My foot standeth in an even place: in the congregations will I bless the LORD.

Acts 4
31 And when they had prayed, the place was shaken where they were assembled together; and they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and they spake the word of God with boldness.

Acts 11
26 And when he had found him, he brought him unto Antioch. And it came to pass, that a whole year they assembled themselves with the church, and taught much people. And the disciples were called Christians first in Antioch.

Hebrews 10
24 And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works:
25 Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together...

The God I know is not frivolous in the commands He gives. Moreover, I believe His purpose in any commandment is to bless us. Considering that, what is the importance of gathering together? Can one worship effectively alone? How does gathering prove a blessing to the members?

Master Wicke Gets a Haircut

I wasn't the only one around here that got an important haircut last month. So did Master Wicke. His very first one.

Here he is before: (Notice the long comb over strands)



And here he is during:



Something's telling me he didn't like it much.

Old Friends, Insecurities, and Waaay too Much Information

Can you imagine anything worse than seeing your old high school boyfriend four months after giving birth? Yes. How about when he just married a woman 10 years your junior? I mean, when she talks about crow's feet, she is actually referring to the anatomy of the bird whereas I am discussing a relatively new feature of my face.

But, as it turned out, she and I do have one thing in common. We both did something really physical in the last year. They ran a triathlon together, and I pushed something the size of a watermelon out of my woohoo. Of course her physical activity probably left her with a six pack and mine left me with a stomach pooch that in all likelihood I will never get rid of, but...whatever.

It isn't at all that I wanted to work any subtle charms on the old him; it's just that I don't want to be thought of as a dodged bullet. No woman, at least one that's honest, wants to be seen with a sense of relief, as in, "Wow! Glad I didn't get stuck with that one."

And these are the thoughts that I was dealing with as we all stood together visiting in my home town: me, Mr. Wicke, our children, said high school boyfriend, his wife, his brother, his brother's wife, their kids...you get the idea. As happy as I always am to see them, it is a group that is bound to bring up some insecurities, which I was doing my best to put behind me when Logan stood in front of me, poked me in the belly, and said, very loudly, "Your tummy's squishy."

Awkward pause inserted here.

Clearly it was up to me to break the silence. "Isn't she cute?" I laughed. And to her, "That's because there was a baby in there four months ago. Now go play."

Ahh, children. Why is it that they choose to be honest at the most inconvenient times? As the conversation continued, I considered this as well as the cost of renewing my gym membership, but then two things occurred to me: 1) I really hate the gym, and 2) the money might be better invested in a muzzle.

Blessed Women

We women get used to doing things with one arm and our brain divided in pieces. It's just the way things are. I have yet to see a man conduct a meeting with a baby on his hip or teach a lesson while bouncing a squalling newborn or feed a baby while trying to give important feedback, but every mom knows how many of our important jobs are done this way: noise in one ear, peanut butter smeared somewhere on our clothes, monitoring homework while finalizing preparations for a presentation. This is not a complaint. It is simply a statement of fact: One armed and a divided brain. That's our reality more often than not.

I have an amazingly supportive husband, but I think the other men might look at him sideways if he brought the little ones to a meeting. However, in my service as a leader in our church's women's group, our meetings are always punctuated with crying babies, toddler messes, and various interruptions; to tell the truth, I am amazed at how much we women can accomplish amidst these circumstances. Gratefully, God gave us the blessed ability to multi-task. He knew we'd need it.

He also knew we would need each other. These blessed, good women who offer without hesitation to watch my baby when I need to visit someone in the hospital. Who quietly pick up my fussy child to soothe him when I am teaching. Who notice I haven't yet eaten and say, "I'm already done. Let me take him for you." Oh, how I need these blessed, good women who link arms with mine, and in our turn sometimes pull, and sometimes are pulled, who sometimes push and sometimes are pushed. Arm and arm, hand over hand, together, we will make it up this hill.

Oh, blessed women. My friends. The village that will help me raise these children. My brain may divided, but it is you who put my soul back together when it is in pieces. How I need you.

Moment by Moment

The other day, while I was thoroughly enjoying another monthly massage (I'd so rather pay a membership fee to Massage Envy than the gym!) my mind began to wander. Like when I'm driving and suddenly I find myself five miles down the road and don't remember getting there? Like that. But I hate when that happens during a massage. I want to relish every blessed minute of soothing muscle relief, and that requires that I be totally present. "In the moment" my college acting coach called it. That ability to live in the present, to be completely focused on what is happening right now, is a quality that makes a great actor, but I have also learned that it also makes a great mother, a great friend, a great daughter, a great sister, and a great spouse as well. I know this. I just wish I were better at it.

It is impossible to be in the moment for every moment of my life, but it is what I strive for. Sadly, more often than not, I find it just out of reach behind the to-do lists of my life. My undisciplined mind runs forward to all the things I need to do, making it difficult to relish the present. Being in the moment is just as impossible when I am months and years away, drifting backward in time, wistfully remembering all the things I've done or, worse yet, all the things I missed doing. Regret has the ability to poison even the best moments.

When I find myself outside of the present, I give myself a little shake and try to remember how to get back there. I try to listen. I'm so easily distracted. My favorite people in the world make me feel like I'm the only person in the room; they listen that well. I know that if I'm really focused on not only what the other person is saying, but also on what they are feeling, most of the work is already done.

So what if no one is saying anything at all? Then I focus on the senses. What is it that I'm experiencing? Hearing? Smelling? Feeling? Seeing? On really great occasions, I try to take a mental picture.

Sometimes that requires that I ignore the moment stealers--or all the stuff that tries to take me someplace else. Like this afternoon. I love rocking my baby to sleep. It is a sweet moment of grace in an otherwise mundane day. Today I ignored the unmade bed and the pile of laundry waiting to be put away. Instead I forced myself to look past it to the window where outside the sun was illuminating the tree top against the light blue sky. I felt the weight of the baby's head on my arm, his hand holding tightly to my shirt front. I smelled him, that heady scent of baby lotion and newborn skin. I watched his lips pucker around his pacifier and his eyes flutter closed, his eyelashes thick and dark. Ignoring the ringing phone downstairs, I listened instead to the whirring of the overhead fan and the otherwise quiet of the house, briefly silent for a few minutes more until the bus arrived bringing the kiddos home from school.

How many moments of grace like these do I overlook because the essence of me is elsewhere, wishing, regretting, planning, or worrying? Admittedly, there are things to plan for, to-do lists to cross off, and I'm not against sentiment, but I pose the question: Is it possible to live life without really experiencing it? I think so. What a shame it would be to miss so much of this one ride on the merry-go-round. Life is made up of precious moments. I intend to live in them.

Things to Entertain You

I have a house full of guests today, so I am busy playing with them, but if you want to see one of the most creative practical jokes I have ever seen, go here.

And if you want my husband's perspective on my teary reaction to my kids' first day of school, you can read it here.

I Found my Heart at UW

Mr. Wicke and I met at the University of Wyoming LDS Institute, which is remarkable in that it sets us apart from all of the other couples at church who customarily met at BYU, which was the tradition in our California ward, or, here in Arizona, who knew each other since attending high school at Westwood or Mesa High. But it's also remarkable since he had no business being there.

Why would a Mormon boy from northern California ever consider attending the University of Wyoming? My mother takes the credit saying that she "prayed him there," and as I have become a firm believer in mothers being given an extra ear in Heaven, I don't dismiss it. But I also don't disregard Brother Lawton who once attended UW himself and who at church one Sunday suggested to my Mr. Wicke that he look into it. Ultimately, however, Mr. Wicke insists he gets the credit because it was, after all, he who turned down the full-tuition scholarship from BYU to come and find me--oh, that and to get an education, I suppose.

Whatever the reason, I'm glad he was there that night. Glad because I get to spend forever with him, but also because it just goes to show that two Mormon kids, whose life ambition doesn't include attending BYU can still stay active in our church, find each other, marry in the temple, and have a really good life. All of that AND because I really love the University of Wyoming.

Oh, I know. They're a rowdy bunch. Just ask anyone from BYU who comes over for a football game. But they are also down to earth, solidly good people. Some of the best friendships of my life were developed there--people I still maintain deep connections with.

My college experience was made the day I auditioned for and got into a musical theater troupe called Centennial Singers. I knew it would be a great performing opportunity, but I had no idea what profound joy these people would bring to me. I found a new family there.

Some of them got together over the weekend, and while my heart wanted to be with them, my body needed to be here with my kids preparing them for the new school year. I dream that Heaven will be a place where such choices don't have to be made; I dream that it will be a place where I can be with everyone I love all at the same time. Until then, and until I can see them in person again, I want my UW soul mates to know that big pieces of my heart walk with you every day. You have changed me for better for good.

Mr. Wicke and I send our love.

Post Edit: If you want to see these people in action and read exactly what I feel in my heart about these fantastic friends, go here. Jen says it perfectly.