My Conductor

Several years ago, I attended a concert, a community band comprised of accomplished musicians who simply enjoyed playing, with a friend. I was blessed by the music, but something else spoke deeply to my heart throughout the evening. I saw in this band a picture of our lives with the Lord.

The musicians, seated in their positions on the stage, each warming up and preparing their instruments. Wind instruments were assembled. Basses tuned. Percussion instruments adjusted to the right tone. Cymbals hung on a rack, ready to be used. Music stands adjusted. Random notes played, each individually warming up, creating a clamor of noise.

Then, the conductor walked onto the stage. Immediately, the orchestra was silent and still. Eyes locked on the maestro, his eyes sweeping from side to side, making contact with those before him. The rise of his baton brought the rise of the instruments. The musicians’ eyes still locked on their conductor. At his cue, the music began.

Each musician intently looked at the music before them, not just reading it but allowing it to direct their every movement. They weren’t distracted; they didn’t look around at anything else. They kept their eyes only on the music and the maestro. They weren’t looking at the audience, though they were aware of them.

This wasn’t new to them. Years of practice had prepared them for this time.

They didn’t compare themselves with others in jealousy. What if the percussionist wanted to play as much as the trombone? Can you imagine the chaos if the cymbals played constantly? The beautiful music flowed from a group united in purpose and focus and willing to do their specific part. What if one, even once, had decided he didn’t like that song and decided to play one he liked instead? Can you imagine how it would have ruined the music?

I see such a beautiful description of our lives with the Lord in this picture. He is the conductor, the maestro, and the one who wrote the music and created the song for our lives. He’s written it out, note by note, for us to follow. The Bible contains everything we need for the beautiful music, the plan he has for our lives. And as our eyes are locked on him, our focus solely on his lead, we know what to do, when to do it, following the notes he’s written, glancing up at him to maintain the rhythm. Being content to play the part he’s given us, not jealous of another’s instrument. Being surrendered to play the music before me, not thinking I have another song that I’d rather be playing. Joining my little part with those around me, working together under the direction of the Master, creating music that brings joy to his ears, and touches the lives of those who hear.

Playing my life to an audience of one. And recognizing that others are also watching and listening.

Healing Comes

Over the course of the past 13 years, I’ve worked as a pastor in several different churches around the Bay Area. I earned my Master of Divinity to be qualified to do so, but in some ways, this was never the plan. Growing up, I always thought I would serve overseas, probably in China, and homeschool my kids, because that would be my only option.  

So, when I got into church ministry, I chafed at it. I longed to be set loose, to be freed up to minister at large - to anybody and everybody. Every time I took on a new role and was handed a stack of business cards, something within me sensed, “This isn’t how I’m supposed to serve.”

In this present season, in which I’m not pastoring through a local congregation, I find myself ministering in more organic ways in our neighborhood, through friendships at my children’s school, and in our city. Recently, I’ve found some other ways of ministering, through hospice chaplaincy and spiritual direction, that feel much more authentic and truer to who I am and how God made me to be.

I want to share a moment I had a few weeks ago at Silver Oaks Memory Care in Menlo Park, visiting a new patient of mine. In that moment, suddenly the veil lifted, and for a brief time, everything came together for me. I felt so deeply loved and cared for by God and by an unexpected patient of mine in a profound and beautiful way.

This patient, who I’ll call Dee, could actually talk to me. Many of my hospice patients have dementia or Alzheimer’s, and some are so close to passing that they’re no longer able to communicate.  They can barely lift their heads; they must stay in bed, and they require a lot of support for daily living. 

But Dee could comprehend that I was her spiritual care chaplain, part of her healthcare team, and she understood what I was there to do. So, after I got her situated in her wheelchair in her shared room, tucking one shawl around her shoulders, and tucking another shawl around her tummy to keep her hands warm, she jumped right in.

“When I feel afraid, I talk to Jesus,” she told me. She looked at me with her clear blue eyes, words simple and straightforward.

“Oh! That’s wonderful,” I said. “Tell me more!”

“He looks right at me.”

Playfully, I asked her, “Out of curiosity, what color are his eyes?”

“Blue,” she told me.

My heart laughed, but I understood, so I continued, “And what does he say when you talk to him?”  I kept my tone light, but she responded with an earnestness that disarmed me.

“He says, ‘Do not worry. Everything will be okay. Your mom is doing well, and she wants you to know that.’”

As we continued talking, Dee told me what she could about her life, her parents, her husband, and her children. At points when her memory would fail, she would simply tell me she didn’t know the answer to my question.

Were her parents kind to her? Her mom was.

What was her husband like? Kind … sometimes.

How many children did she have? Two … or maybe 4. (We decided she must have had two, then after they got married, she must have felt she had 4!)

As I felt our time drawing to a close, I said to her: “There’s a Bible verse that says, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.’ (Romans 10:15) You’ve brought me such good news in how you’ve described your faith to me. Could I lay my hands on your beautiful feet as I pray for you?”  She readily agreed.

I sat down on the carpet in front of her, but her feet were enclosed in fuzzy peach slippers. So, I put my hands on her ankles. They felt cold to my touch, but they warmed up as I held them and prayed. I began praying for her, praying for her to be able to shed the sadness that she’d experienced in her lifetime. I prayed for her to continue to lift her concerns up to Jesus because he cared for her.

Suddenly, I felt something stir deep within me: a subtle awareness of the disconnect between what I was praying for her and what I was personally experiencing in my own life. I felt so convicted that I needed to do what I was praying for her to be able to do. I needed to shed all the sadness I’d been carrying around from my decade-long career as a pastor that never quite fit right. I needed to shed my burdens from my past, my preoccupations over the future, my perpetual unease with my present.

I must have stopped praying – because I suddenly felt Dee place her gentle hand on the top of my head.  The roles unexpectedly reversed, and tears broke forth – from me. Something within me dislodged, and I couldn’t continue. I couldn’t keep praying through the tears. So, my patient started praying for me.  Her voice comforted me, and now it was her words that reassured me.  I was now the care recipient, and her soft voice spoke similar sentiments to what I’d just expressed. Except now she repeated the words Jesus’ said to her, “Everything’s going to be alright. You’re okay. God loves you. You can trust him.”

I honestly can’t remember exactly what she said, and I don’t know how long she prayed, or I cried. But I can tell you how I felt—like this chaplaincy work had been set up for my healing, and this was the work for me in this season. These patients were part of my healing, my restoration, and my experience of forgiveness.

God meant me to be there for them as much as he meant them to be there for me.

I cried harder than I expected, and she just kept stroking my hair, so gently. And touching my shoulders, just like I imagine my own grandmother would do if she lived nearby.

My tears ended somehow, and I wiped my eyes. I wrapped up our prayer time, with a softer voice, humbly thanking God from my heart for this powerful exchange and profound encounter. I opened my eyes at the end and looked straight up into Dee’s face, smiling into her blue eyes. I simply thanked her for ministering to me.

I gave her a hug and told her I’d come visit next month. I would bring my violin, and we could talk and pray together again.

I know that when I do, there will be mutual ministry between us, once again.  And in the meantime, great belovedness.

Tina grew up on Long Island, New York, in an intergenerational home of ethnically Chinese parents raised in Taiwan. After studying English literature at Harvard College, she went on staff with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship and served the multi-ethnic chapter for 6 years. In this capacity, she also ministered to the broader community as one of the Harvard Chaplains. 

Over the course of 12 years of local church ministry in the Bay Area, she ministered in a variety of ways as she completed her Master of Divinity at Fuller Theological Seminary. She has served as a pastor overseeing life groups, outreach, and discipleship.  She has also had significant seasons serving as an interim pastor in various contexts.  

As a wife and involved mother of three elementary-aged children, she is now focusing on the ministry of spiritual direction and serving the broader community as a chaplain. She loves to write, play volleyball, and puzzle with friends. She has benefitted greatly from several NEWIM retreats during her years of service, including the Writers' Getaway. Listen to her experience here.

Connect with her at christinetenghenson@gmail.com.

Overcoming Loneliness

Do you know what it’s like to experience loneliness, even though you’re connected with God and a ministry?
 
I did. And that’s when God led me to the founders and directors of NEWIM who took me under their wing, encouraged me, mentored me, and prayed my first book (Letting God Meet Your Emotional Needs), into publication.
 
That was more than 25 years ago. And this week, my eighteenth book with Harvest House Publishers releases—The New Loneliness: Nurturing Meaningful Connections When You Feel Isolated. This book again includes a brief story of my desperation for spiritual mentors, and how God placed me in a room full of women who introduced me to the benefits of NEWIM.
 
People have always struggled with loneliness at one time or another. But now it’s far more persistent—due to increased technology, habits we developed from the COVID lockdowns, reliance on AI, and the convenience of looking online for not just essentials, but relationships and social connections too. I call this “the new loneliness” in which we now tend to look at screens more than faces, text more than talk, and conduct our business online rather than in person. The result? Fewer conversations. Even less transparency. Next to zero relationships. Loneliness.
 
Whether your loneliness is caused by your work or living circumstances, a ministry situation, a subconscious preference for internet rather than interpersonal connections, a misunderstanding or falling out with someone–or just feeling inadequate, unprepared, unsupported, or overwhelmed—you and I were never designed to live this way.
 
Jesus came to offer us purpose and life (John 10:10), not pain and loneliness. In close relationship with him, we can experience not only joy and contentment, but more fulfilling relationships with others as well.
 
How can you and I overcome this new type of loneliness? These three steps are a great start:

1. Reconnect with God

People will always let us down. That’s why we’ve got to constantly keep our eyes on Jesus. The more we know of his character the more we can trust him and the more readily we can extend trust toward others. Every day this week, repeat to yourself these three truths about God: “He is with me. He is for me. And he has a reason why I’m here.” Then commit to getting into his Word regularly and discovering more about who he is and what he’s capable of.

When you reconnect—or start to really connect—with God through his Word and a focus on his character, you’ll find your value in him, as well as the priority he set for your life—to love him with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength, and to love others as yourself (Matthew 22:37-39). With a better understanding of who you are and why you were created, you will be more equipped to resolve whatever is causing your feelings of loneliness.

2. Re-evaluate your heart and hurts.

Have you surrendered to God your past hurts, insecurities, and feelings of inadequacy—all which can interfere with enjoying healthy relationships? We are all wounded in some way and left with scars of betrayal, abandonment, broken relationships, insecurity, or wondering if we are really loved for who we are. These scars can mask longtime hurts we didn’t know we had, and keep us from developing deeper friendships with others. Sometimes, out of a fear of being hurt, we keep those who extend toward us at a distance, and thus it’s easier to text than talk or communicate via a screen rather than face to face. As you seek to better understand who you are in the light of God’s grace, forgiveness, and transformation, you can more easily trust those whom God brings your way and start developing more meaningful relationships with them. Start by asking God to take inventory of your heart and your hurts, while you remember he is the God who makes all things new—even you! (2 Corinthians 5:17).

3. Reach out to others in the body of Christ.

Who haven’t you connected with in a while because you’ve been so busy? Whose company did you once enjoy but the reconnection process is something you keep putting off? Do you have a trusted Christian friend you can talk with when your loneliness creeps in? When we look to our devices for guidance, distraction, or to fill that niche more than human touch and interaction, it can keep us from experiencing the peace and comfort God provides through our sisters in Christ. How long has it been since you’ve felt connected with a group of believers in a local church or through an organization like NEWIM? As you put yourself in the place, literally, where God can surround you with like-minded believers, you can grow spiritually and emotionally and not feel as lonely.
 
You don’t have to be a part of this culture’s new loneliness statistics. You can push through the hesitation to connect and find yourself equipped by the Lord to be a confident and compassionate follower of Jesus who can encourage, serve, and extend grace toward others in the kind of meaningful community God intended.

Cindi McMenamin is a national speaker, award-winning writer, and author of 18 books with Harvest House Publishers. She was the founding president of the Inland Empire Chapter of NEWIM in the mid-1990s and for the past several years has co-led the NEWIM Writers Getaway with author Kathy Collard Miller, happening April 1-2 in Three Rivers, CA.

To find out more about her books, speaking ministry, or coaching services for writers, see www.StrengthForTheSoul.com.

Cindi’s newest book, The New Loneliness, releases this week and will be the topic of NEWIM’s Reading Books with Friends discussion on May 4. Pre-order The New Loneliness with Amazon’s low-price guarantee

Looking for Jesus

The sign held a note of desperation: LOOKING FOR JESUS. PLEASE BRING HIM BACK!
 
Drivers passed by the house in their neighborhood to see the beautiful Nativity displayed at Christmas. They admired the wooden stable and statues of Mary and Joseph gazing at Jesus lying in the manger. Imagine their surprise when they learned the figure representing the Baby was missing, and the owners were looking for Jesus.
 
The thought of looking for Jesus is one that keeps playing over in my mind. Celebrating Advent with my church family, I thought about those who heard the prophecies and anticipated the arrival of the Messiah. They were looking for Jesus to bring hope, peace, love, and joy to a weary world. The gospel writers record the familiar accounts of those who were looking for Jesus at the time of his birth: 

• Mary looked for the Baby, the Son of God, she carried in her womb.

• Joseph looked for Immanuel, God with us.

• Shepherds looked for a Baby lying in a manger in Bethlehem.

• A caravan of Magi looked for the King of the Jews.

This year as I read the story from Luke 2, I continued to the scene when Mary and Joseph brought their firstborn Son to the temple to be circumcised. They were greeted by Simeon, who is described as “righteous and devout …. waiting for the consolation of Israel; and the Holy Spirit was on him” (Luke 2:25). 
 
Simeon is not identified as a priest, Pharisee, or teacher of the law. He is not mentioned anywhere else in Scripture; yet Luke writes, “it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah” (Luke 2:26). Simeon anticipated the arrival of the one to bring comfort to the nation of Israel. He longed for the fulfillment of God’s promise for his people. Simeon was looking for Jesus.
 
As Simeon took the Child in his arms and blessed Him, another first century saint approached the young family. The widow Anna “never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying” (Luke 2:37). She praised God and spoke about the Baby to those who waited for God’s redemption of Israel. Anna was looking for Jesus.
 
I was impressed by the timing of this scene. At eight days old, Jesus had not taught great lessons or preached powerful sermons. He had not performed miraculous signs and wonders, uttered his first word or taken his first step; yet the Holy Spirit revealed his presence to Simeon and Anna because they were looking for Jesus. They waited in expectation for God to send their Savior, as the prophets foretold. He was finally here!
 
This caused me to wonder…what (or who) am I looking for this Christmas? Is it to find just the right gift for everyone on my list, try a new recipe, see the latest movie, or purchase another ornament?

As I hear the Christmas story read aloud or watch as it is re-enacted in church, as I sing the carols and celebrate Advent, I want to experience in a fresh way the birth of our Savior, when God took on flesh and walked among us. I want to remember he did not stay in the manger but came to be the Savior who stretched out his arms to die on the cross for our sins, reconciling us to our Creator so we can have peace and everlasting life.
 
As Simeon and Anna were watching and waiting for Jesus to come the first time, I pray we also will look for him. I pray we will see him at work in our families, among our neighbors and co-workers, and in our personal relationships with him. I pray we will be watching and waiting, anticipating his Second Coming. I pray this Christmas and throughout the coming year we, too, will be looking for Jesus.

Ginger Niemeyer has been involved in church ministry for more than 30 years. She served on the staff of Peoples Church in Fresno, CA and currently volunteers as a Bible study teacher and in women's and prayer ministries at her church in Sanger, CA. Ginger enjoys writing Bible studies and helping people see how practical Scripture is for everyday life.

Ginger has attended several NEWIM Springs Retreats in Three Rivers, CA where she enjoys interacting with other ministry leaders and spending times of silence and solitude with God. She also finds inspiration by participating in the NEWIM Monthly Writers’ Group. Reach out to her at gingerniemeyer@gmail.com.

A Christmas Miracle

Do you know what it’s like to need a Christmas miracle? 

I do. And to this day that miracle-needing time in our lives became the one Christmas we will never forget. 

Five days before Christmas, my family had no job, no money, and no gifts under our little Christmas tree propped in the corner. Our three children had taken the news “No gifts this year” bravely. They were sad but accepted that this year we would focus on Christ’s humble birth, make little gifts for each other, and bake cookies together. We all agreed that no one would tell anyone outside of our family our plans for a warm, cozy, but bleak holiday. 

Christmas that year was on Saturday. Imagine our surprise when, on the Monday before Christmas, a knock came on our door at dinnertime. Three friends arrived with gifts, which they placed under the small, empty Christmas tree. Back and forth they went, until the floor was piled high with gifts.

“This is going to be the best Christmas ever!” exclaimed our children.

“We have a little something extra,” said one of these friends, handing me an envelope. In it were five movie tickets (we had not been to a movie all year), and a check for $127 dollars. “Just a little extra from your many friends who love you.”

We finished our dinner in wonder, thanking our Savior for a surprise “save!”

Friday morning found us packing the van with clothes, children, a dog and a cat, and three large black garbage bags in which we put our unopened gifts. Up they went with the clothes into the cargo carrier, firmly closed atop the van, and off we went to Southern California to spend Christmas with my parents. 

By 4:00 pm we found ourselves in the carpool lane, stopped due to Friday’s rush hour traffic, horns honking at us. Our annoyed and exhausted response was, “We can’t go any faster than the car in front of us!” At the same moment, the alternator indicator began to fluctuate. We knew that meant trouble, and so my husband made his way across seven lanes of traffic to the right-hand shoulder. 

To our surprise, a woman followed us across and stepped out of her vehicle saying, “You’ve been losing Christmas gifts on the freeway!” Sure enough, the latch on the cargo carrier had broken, and the clothes were there, but not a single gift. We were stunned.

“This is going to be the worst Christmas ever!” moaned our youngest daughter.

We didn’t know what else to do but pray, “Lord, you know what has happened. Please, we need a miracle. Show us what to do.”

Without my husband saying anything, I already knew what he was planning to do. He was going to exit the freeway, cross the bridge and re-enter the freeway to find the gifts. He was then going to put the car in park and grab the gifts… wherever they were. I continued to pray silently and even more desperately, Lord we could spend Christmas in the ER! Please help! We need Your intervention. 

As we were crossing the bridge, the alternator fully died. Losing the steering and braking capacity of the van was frightening. But as God would have it, we coasted safely into a large, empty parking area with a garage and a mechanic at the end of the lot.

My husband propped up the hood of the van and walked, shoulders slumped, to see if the mechanic was still there at 4:30 pm on Friday, December 24. It was unlikely, but there was a chance. Meanwhile the children and I prayed again for help. To our surprise, up pulled a sheriff’s car driven by an officer with the biggest Navy Seal tattoo on his forearm I’d ever seen. “It looks like you’re having trouble. Can I help?”

“We’ve lost all our Christmas presents somewhere on the freeway, and our alternator has gone out,” I responded weakly. Silently I wondered why is it that speaking the trouble seemed to accentuate the problem? It seemed hopeless, made worse by the thought that I would return home to my friends telling them a story of loss upon loss, despite their generosity.

“Well maybe I can help,” the officer replied, at which point my children ran to get my husband, and off they went to try to locate the site of the Christmas gift drop.

The kids and I prayed again, remembering that the meaning of the Hebrew word, Jesus, is “help, deliverance, salvation, and victory.” 

I called my parents, asking them to drive the 45 minutes to pick us up, knowing full well that they too would be stuck in Friday afternoon traffic with thousands of people who just wanted to get home for Christmas. When they arrived, my husband still had not returned. The wait was long, and our tension mounted with the ever-so-slowly passing minutes.

Well after sunset, the men returned, smiles on their faces, and all the Christmas gifts intact. 

“This really is the best Christmas ever!” we exclaimed, all of us laughing with joy and wonder!

The story unfolded. It had taken the two quite a bit of time to locate the site, but when found, the officer refused to get out and pick up the gifts. Instead, he exited the freeway and called in a tag team, which consisted of two other sheriff’s cars. They entered the freeway, lights flashing, zigzagging across seven lanes of traffic bringing it to a full stop. Not surprisingly, the seven lanes of traffic on the other side of the freeway slowed to watch. We believe they were witnessing a miracle.

The officer retrieved all the gifts, which had dropped close to the center divider, unharmed. Now here we were, all rejoicing together. Our relief and gratitude were overflowing, as we thanked the officer, who had rescued not only our gifts, but our hope, our faith, our hearts, and our Christmas! I think he may have left us as happy as we were!

What about the broken-down car? The alternator was replaced a few days later. The cost? $127! 

As we headed for the best Christmas ever, we thanked God for the miracles. I breathed a sigh of relief, Oh Lord, you have done an amazing thing for us. We asked for a miracle, and You gave it to us! You rescued us. Thank you so very much!

God’s response was a whisper in my spirit and was the best gift of all: I knew you wanted to give good gifts to your children. So, I gave them to you, not once, but twice… so that you would know that I am a good and gift-giving God, and that I love you.   

Matthew 7:11 says, “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” 

Trust your gift-giving God this Christmas. 

Betsy Stowe has been a pastor’s wife, a worship leader, women’s ministry director, and the happy mom of three grown children and six grandchildren. She spends her time helping women and saa good cup of coffee, a good visit with friends, a brisk walk with her husband and her dog, and a game of tag with her grandchildren. You can reach her with comments about her article at betsystowe@sbcglobal.net.

"This article was first published on November 28, 2018, at Crosswalk.com. Used with permission from the author."