clear the room: how worship changes the atmosphere around us

After about four years, I still don’t have a great relationship with our wood stove. Because of our home’s configuration, the stovepipe veers horizontally out the exterior wall before going up again, and this jog creates issues. If the fire isn’t prepped right (more on this in a minute) the smoke floats out of the vents and fills the house, rather than going pleasantly up the chimney like it’s supposed to.

So when the kids ask if we can light the wood stove, I generally put them off. Not this weekend, maybe another time, I don’t really want to suffocate on smoke right now. Let’s save it for an emergency power outage in winter, okay?

clear the room: how worship changes the atmosphere around us

Right, like that’s the perfect time to open the windows to air out the house. In the middle of winter on those really cold days, the temperature rises to 2 above in the sun. If someone opens the door, frosty air billows in and visibly rolls across the floor…so that’s definitely not when we want to open all the windows to clear the smoke out.

But now that it’s May, it is the perfect time to mend my relationship with the wood stove. I want to be storm ready, and maintain a cozy atmosphere in every part of the year. So we need to be in the habit of prepping the wood stove, which entails preheating the back area of it with a mini blowtorch – maybe you can see why I’ve been stubborn about this, because the irony of needing to preheat a wood stove annoys me for some reason – so the air gets warm enough to rise up the pipe and create a current strong enough to push past that sideways jog. It’s just basic science. (But also, annoying.)

When the fire is lighted in the fireplace, the air contained in the chimney is warmed, becomes lighter, and rises. The hotter the air and the higher the column of heated air, the more powerfully it rushes upward.

– Jean-Henri Fabre, The Secret of Everyday Things

I was thinking about this last Sunday, about the atmosphere we create – or rather, partner with God and others in creating – as we worship. The songs, the prayer, the attention goes up…or they’re supposed to, at least.

At the same time that the hot air rises, cold air, which is heavier, flows toward the fireplace, accelerates combustion, becomes warm in its turn, and joins the ascending column…To this incessant flow of air through the fireplace we give the name ‘draft.’

– Jean-Henri Fabre, The Secret of Everyday Things

Our attention toward Jesus creates the momentum of a current. My eyes are on Him, your eyes are on Him, the smoke rises. The room is warmer, vision is clearer.

But our distraction – wondering what others think of us, what our kids or other people are doing, wondering how we sound or when the song will be over – is cold air that blows attention sideways and down, disrupting the draft and pulling smoke into the room, distracting us and others.

In that case, we choke and stifle on what God is wanting to do. Rather than joining in with the worship that is actively and always occuring, we hold back…and in so doing, we hold others back, too.

Maybe I sang too loud. She’s clapping off rhythm. I hate clapping. Ugh, this song again. If our attention isn’t vertical, it’s sideways.

This cold air necessarily lessens the draft by mixing with the hot air and lowering its temperature, or it can even blow smoke back into the room.

– Jean-Henri Fabre, The Secret of Everyday Things

And it’s not just worship during church services, but in our everyday abiding we also create a current and shift the atmosphere. Our spouses, kids, and coworkers know when our attention is directed upwards.

[Exhausted Parents. Photography by Kavanagh, age 6]

Over the years, especially in hard seasons, I’ve noticed with my kids that if I’m in a funk, they follow. Or, if they are dwelling in gloom or malaise and I’m not attuned to it, I follow them and get sucked into it, too – thus abdicating my leadership in setting the atmosphere.

On those really difficult days I have to find small things to strengthen the draft, like drinking a few gulps of water, memorizing a short verse, washing a couple dishes. Picking up a tiny area. It’s how Holy Spirit taught me to retake authority, take back the land, in small increments at a time. We redirect our attention to what He is doing and what He wants to do – often in creating beauty and order – and the smoke starts to clear again.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

– Philippians 4:8

We make room for Him. The thorns, cares, and distractions of the world are clutter in our minds that overflow around us, choking out space, focus, and simplicity. So we surrender them: Lay them on the altar, let them pass through the fire. Some can be picked up again after our vision has cleared and we know what to do with them, and others need to burn entirely.

This is how we redirect the current upward, and clear the air, the congestion, the smoke in our eyes that prevents us from seeing.

So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on the things that are above, not on the things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.

– Colossians 3:1-3

Ephesians 4 puts it this way:

…to put away your former way of life, your old self, corrupt and deluded by its lusts, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.

– Ephesians 4:22-24

The things we’re stubborn about can get in our way and prevent us from creating the environment we really want and were made to live in. So we burn the old, earthly things so they can no longer stir up the current and blow smoke around, and thus we clear the room:

Put to death, therefore, whatever in you is earthly: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed (which is idolatry). On account of these the wrath of God is coming on those who are disobedient. These are the ways you also once followed, when you were living that life. But now you must get rid of all such things: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive language from your mouth.

Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have stripped off the old self with its practices and have clothed yourselves with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator.

– Colossians 3:5-10

Ephesians 4 parallels that, and gives us more heat to draw the current upward:

So then, putting away falsehood, let each of you speak the truth with your neighbor, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil.

Those who steal must give up stealing; rather, let them labor, doing good work with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths but only what is good for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.

– Ephesians 4:25-32

I know this is a ton of scripture. But Ephesians is on one side of the room and Colossians is on the other, and both are shouting the same refrain: Make room and prepare the way of the Lord.

They praise God from one wall to the other, proclaiming the atmosphere we’re made to cultivate and walk in:

Therefore, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.

Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

– Colossians 3:12-17

Now is the time to prepare, wherever we are, so we and those around us encounter Him continually. To mix my metaphors, we are not thermometers, but thermostats – we’re not just here to read the room, but to shift it. So are our eyes, thoughts, and attention directed toward Him, toward His works, toward His will? Have we cleared the room so we’re not making ourselves or those around us choke on smoke we’ve stirred up?

We’re learning to set the atmosphere so when someone walks in, they’re not entering a cold space. We’ve have prepped the wood stove, the fire is lit, and the current is already strong and headed upward. You’re here to worship, to see Jesus? Great, join us, it’s already happening.

If someone opens the door on a cold day and frosty air billows in, there’s a strong draft already in motion to carry it toward the fire, warm it, and send it higher. We’ve taken on the new life that continually rises. And with our attention drawn to Him, every moment is worship.

undo, redo: the answer is repentance

My old crossword puzzle book is a magnificent doorstopper with over 200 puzzles in it. I’ve taken it up again, and whether they want to or not, my family inevitably gets roped into helping me with it.

“What’s fish-eating bird that starts with E, only four letters?”

“Kingfisher!” our youngest hollers.

Four letters, starts with E,” I repeat.

“Eagle!” says a kid who shall remain nameless.

Four letters…”

“Emu!”

“Four! Letters!”

“Oh…how do you spell emu?”

Headdesk, headdesk. Are they even listening?

Sort of. They are doing what I do, what you do, what we all do: Taking the little bit we know and running with it, rather than attending to the full picture.

undo, redo: the answer is repentance | Shannon Guerra at Copperlight Wood

I do this when I think I have the right answer to a crossword clue based on only one letter. Dateless, four letters, starts with S? SOLO, easy. It works perfectly with the S but not so much for the other letters, and after a while I peek in the back (don’t tell) and realize the correct answer is supposed to be STAG.

Duh, of course. Erase, erase, erase, brush the rubbings away, write the correct answer, try again.

Next clue! Crescent-shaped – six letters, the second one is a U.

If you, like me, thought it should be CURVED…you, like me, would also be wrong. Sigh.

None of the other letters worked with their corresponding clues, so I stole another peek in the back (that answers section really is quite handy), and found the correct answer is LUNATE. (What?! So fancy.)

I think the lesson here (other than that I need to expand my vocabulary) is that when I am faced with a problem, my first response isn’t necessarily the right one. Sometimes it is good – sometimes I remember to pray, to trust, to worship. But other times, my first response is to rifle through the cabinet and eat a handful of chocolate chips.

The real answer, of course, is about abiding and proximity. I know that one. Knowing and doing aren’t always the same thing, though, which is why we’re also talking a lot lately about going back, undoing, and redoing – or maybe what we really mean is repentance.

Let’s go back a little farther than that, though. Repentance comes later, after something has gone amiss.

We usually talk about sins in a big, broad, generic way, but the Bible often specifies between ways of, shall we say, blowing it. Like so, real brief:

  • Sins: These are basic mistakes. Whoops, I tried but I messed up, I’m sorry. You probably know that it literally means “miss the mark,” which means we aimed and intended to do the right thing, but got it wrong. SOLO looked like the right answer, but it was actually STAG. Drat.
  • Iniquities: This goes back to the root word avon, meaning “distortion or bent.” It’s more like a learned misbehavior, often (but not always) generational. They can be defense mechanisms, wrong beliefs we grew up with, or bad habits and coping skills (see also chocolate chips). It is a perversion or distortion of what is otherwise right. CURVED seemed like the obvious answer, and I’ve never even used the word LUNATE in a sentence until now.
  • Transgressions: This is outright wrongdoing and rebellion – and ironically, it’s what we usually mean when we use the word “sin.” This is when we know the right thing but refuse to do it, or we know something is wrong but we do it anyway. The intention itself is willful disobedience. Who cares what the clues and corresponding letters are? I’m going to write GFYXRT in the boxes because I want to, so there.

Wasn’t that fun? So now we know there are several ways to get the wrong answer in life…and that explains a lot.

But here’s some good news:

He does not deal with us according to our sins
nor repay us according to our iniquities.

For as the heavens are high above the earth,
so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far he removes our transgressions from us.

– Psalm 103:10

You’ll notice, of course, there’s a stipulation here: This is about those who fear Him. Not just anyone. It’s for those who look to Him in obedience and abiding, for those who trust and surrender, for those who repent and go back to undo and redo. Without abiding and surrender, we miss who God really is and we fall for Churchianity that is generally either harsher or fluffier than a genuine relationship with Jesus.

Because He deals with us differently depending on whether or not we find our answers in Him:

I dealt with them according to their uncleanness and their transgressions and hid my face from them.

– Ezekiel 39:24

But then there’s this interesting contrast:

Once God has spoken;
twice have I heard this:
that power belongs to God,
and steadfast love belongs to you, O Lord.
For you repay to all
according to their work.

– Psalm 62:11-12

Okay, to sum up: He removes the sins, iniquities, and transgressions of those who fear Him — and this requires our repentance and surrender. But He deals with (unrepentant) transgressors according to what they’ve done. And He repays all according to their work.

Huh. How do we reconcile all that together?

To the Hebrew!

Maaseh: Work, deed, act, labor, product, accomplishment. Meaning: an action, a transaction, activity, a product, property.

Did you notice the word “transaction?” I think this is our clue. Something is given in exchange for something else. We repent, we get forgiveness…and so much more.

Could it be that at least part of the work He pays us according to is repentance? Because this is the turning that keeps our eyes on Him. This is the surrender that admits we don’t know what we’re doing and we need His answers. This is the humility that confesses we get it wrong on our own.

Repentance – undoing, and redoing – is hard work. It requires attending to things we’d rather not deal with.

When I started this afghan a few years ago, I didn’t know what I was doing. There was no pattern in mind, just a basic seed stitch and stripes to keep my hands busy. But as I went, I loved what it became more and more. And as I loved it more, I liked the beginning less. It didn’t fit the rest of the pattern, I didn’t like the sequence of colors, I hated looking at it. In iniquity this blanket was conceived…and when we know better, we do better.

But do you have any idea how much work it is to un-knit 250 stitches to create a new edge? So much work. Tedious, annoying, repetitive, and you can’t read a book while doing it because your eyes have to be on it the whole time lest you drop a stitch and revive the phrase “swears like a knitter.”

It had to be done, though.

After deciding which row should be the new edge and where the old stuff should be removed, I wove another cable needle into the new “first” row, and un-knit all those stitches, pulling the old yarn through each individual stitch in increasingly long lengths, casting it across the couch over and over and over, and pulling it through the old loops and stitches all over again. You can’t just rip it out knitting; you have undo it a stitch at a time or else the loose (“live”) stitches will run like a gigantic hole in pantyhose.

It takes about four times as long as the original process, and yes, it is as miserable as it seems. It took me two weeks to undo it all.

But now the new edge matches the rest of the pattern…and I’m happy with it, now that I know what I’m doing. I don’t mind looking at it anymore – in fact, I love it.

If we are avoiding looking at something, it might mean we need to attend to it all the more and do some repenting. That area we’d rather not deal with is probably the one that most needs undoing and redoing…or at the very least, a little more maintenance.

Untangling, realigning, reordering. Life is messy and repentance is a lifestyle, not a checked off event.

But the redoing comes with great rewards, because since He repays us according to our repentance, we can ask for bold things:

My mouth is filled with your praise
and with your glory all day long.
Do not cast me off in the time of old age;
do not forsake me when my strength is spent.

O God, from my youth you have taught me,
and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds.
So even to old age and gray hairs,
O God, do not forsake me,
until I proclaim your might
to all the generations to come.

– Psalm 71:8-9, 17-18

And here we start to see some of the reward of stewarding our days, attending rightly, learning better and doing better. We realize what we missed, and we pick up on what we were oblivious to before.

We draw better boundaries, we go from glory to glory. Whatever happened in the past, we’ve moved forward from. And when we’ve done that, we have stewarded our days with glory, filling them with praise.

P.S. That fish eating bird, four letters, starts with an E? ERNE. Who knew? (Not me.)

stewardship of days

Last month, that weird illness I mentioned a few posts ago blew through the Valley here and hit about two thirds of our family. So once we recovered from those fevers and aches and exhaustion, it seemed like the perfect time to expose the boys to the chicken pox and get that over with, too.

(Haha, cringe…but really, if you know, you know: It’s not sickness, it’s immunity.)

stewardship of days: how we advance a culture of wholeness & healing

It was mild and they had great attitudes about it. But any illness can throw sleep schedules off, and for the first couple days we were up at all hours, and also sleeping at all hours: One morning up and doing at seven, another night still too awake to fall asleep before one.

So I stayed up long after Vin turned off his light, and read about General Washington’s attack on Trenton. You know, the famous one that proved Americans were lethal even at Christmastime: the crossing of the Delaware in the middle of the night, and the silent advance to catch the enemy off guard while they were still sleeping off their revelries.

Out in front, a company of Virginians led the way, men whose instructions were explicit. There could be no sound, no alarm given to whatever Hessian outposts might lie in their path.

– Jeff Shaara, The Glorious Cause

I quietly turned pages in the dim light. It was 1776 and I marched along with the bandaged feet in the snow, watching for enemy scouts, absolutely loving the gutsy strategy of our country’s forefathers.

Suddenly from his side of the bed, Vin snored loudly. I gave his pillow a push.

“Shh! We’re about to attack Trenton and you’re going to wake the Hessians!”

He mumbled an apology and rolled over, and I kept reading. He made this march years ago, but it’s new to me as I’ve been delving more and more into history. It’s been a fun switch, because as I’ve grabbed more of his history books, he’s been reading more of my psychology books, and that’s not something we planned; it just…somehow happened…which means the Holy Spirit is up to something.

I’ve also been reading Ezekiel, and he, too, is dealing with the sick and the scattered and the need to purge enemies from the land in a fight for freedom:

You have not strengthened the weak; you have not healed the sick; you have not bound up the injured; you have not brought back the strays; you have not sought the lost, but with force and harshness you have ruled them. So they were scattered because there was no shepherd, and scattered they became food for all the wild animals.

My sheep were scattered; they wandered over all the mountains and on every high hill; my sheep were scattered over all the face of the earth, with no one to search or seek for them.

– Ezekiel 34:4-6

What this looks like might be different in my community than yours, but often it looks like dark pockets of deep dysfunction. It goes far beyond immaturity and lack of education or church attendance. It looks like foolishness flaunted and depravity glorified, like whole swaths of people who need forgiven because they do not know what they do. They can’t see where they’re going and they don’t even know they are blind because the darkness is so familiar, and light is so foreign.

Also, in some of these same pockets, it looks like doctrine that’s only talked about on Sundays in voice tones that aren’t used the rest of the week. It looks like hidden magazines in the bottoms of closets, and religious books on display. It looks like awkward conversations with those who speak the name of Jesus freely and correctly because that Name usually only rolls off the tongue in all the wrong ways, and reverence on Tuesday feels out of place.

I don’t mean all that as one who looks down and condemns, but as one who looks back and remembers.


I was in junior high when I had the chicken pox. My most vivid memory of it, aside from the itching and fever, was reading (and rereading, multiple times) a book that had been newly released for my age group containing vivid depictions of bullying and suicide, complete with how-to instructions.

I think I got it from school; at least one adult in my life had read it and approved. And this was normal. If you, too, grew up in the secular 80s, you know how normalized certain things were that had no business being normal for kids.

So now we’re middle aged, with our own kids growing up in a culture that (still) needs shepherding.

And here’s the question that keeps me up at night lately: How do we strengthen the weak, and create an atmosphere of wholeness and healing? How do we remove the enemy from the land, bind up the injured, bring back the strays, and seek out the lost?

And really, this: How do we help the lost want to be found? Because if you know them, you know some who say they don’t want to be.

The more he thought about it, the more he saw that what they needed was the presence among them of holy men who would teach the ignorant, nurse the sick, comfort the sorrowful, and put the fear of hell fire into sinners like himself….

They taught the children, nursed the sick, converted the sinners, and praised God night and day.

– Elizabeth Goudge, Gentian Hill

That’s another book I’m reading. It’s so good, about a small community living on the coast during a different war. The enemy is near, trying to invade their land, so they prepare, and watch, and drill.

And here we focus more on God’s nearness, but also, the more we’re in His presence, the more we have eyes to see the infiltration of the enemy. We steward our days differently when we know what we’re fighting for, and what we’re fighting against. Because we do not fight against flesh and blood, but often it’s flesh and blood that fights against us.

Somehow we need to love them toward healing while protecting the hearts involved, but also go after the real enemy who seeks to destroy us all.

So we advance silently, walking with their bandaged feet, remembering our own wounds that made us limp in the dark, too.


Strengthening the weak and healing the sick isn’t always about late night baths and checking temperatures. Sometimes it’s about doing the unexpected, learning something outside our wheelhouse, and making a preemptive attack before the enemy gets a chance to put his pants on.

And this is why the boys had chicken pox; it had been thirteen years since the last time we’d heard of a local case close enough to take advantage of it.

“It’s not because we want you to be sick,” I told the boys. “It’s because we want your body to have a chance to fight it.”

But as I spoke, I heard God telling me the same thing about some hard situations. I didn’t want you to be hurt; I want you to be protected, and trained up to withstand attacks.

And that looks like creating an atmosphere where healing thrives, where immunity is strong, where humility is revered, where attempts at entertaining sin and sickness are immediately confronted with the disinfectant of truth in love, and shown the door.

Yes, we allowed sickness in a small measure, but we also did all the things to quickly show it the door and create strong immunity: garlic, oregano oil, baths, tea, rest. (Also, um, tons of Super Mario…because, Gen X parents, yo.) Easiest chicken pox ever; the boys might be a little sad they can’t do it again.

And to create a culture of wholeness and healing, we have to do all the things here, too, to keep the enemy out: worship, pray, confess, repent, study, learn, and grow. We discuss hard issues and process them together. We cover with grace as much as possible and confront only when absolutely necessary. (But also, we listen to country music and dance in the kitchen and, um, play a lot of Super Mario lately.)

We are shepherding and stewarding. So it also looks like deciding what we do with our time, and deciding what’s not worth that time, and deciding how to work smarter and not harder by doing things at the right times and not the wrong ones.

For example, when you only have a few minutes before you need to get a kid out of the bath, it’s probably not the best time to peruse the internet for solace and spiritual enlightenment, but there I was one evening, doing it anyway.

I scrolled to a 1-minute video that a friend shared, and a somber voice slowly intoned, “Dear Lord, I’m sorry for my impatience–”

…and I immediately clicked the X to close it.

Oh, the irony: No time for that, too busy, no thanks. Sad but true.

But also, I wasn’t just being impatient; I was prioritizing. An atmosphere of healing does not thrive in unjust condemnation, or inauthentic confession, or in watching gloomy videos when what we really need is a few funny cat memes before wrapping kids in towels and getting them to bed.


During the day, I still fight Bingley for desk space because he wants to lay across my arms while I write – which works while I’m typing (sort of) but not at all when I’m writing by hand.

When I don’t have words for anything else, I usually journal. And when that’s done and I still don’t have words for the project in progress, the last resort is to get up and do something else. This is why writers snack too much and end the day with dirty dishes and mugs all over the desk, like a college student perpetually in finals week.

Aside from all those dishes, though, were piles of papers that have accumulated for months – lists, notes for projects, cards and letters from a friend who’s much better at correspondence than I am. I need a file for those.

So I went to the shelf where the file folders are, and found one that looked empty, and behold…more papers.

Sigh. Story of my life.

These papers were more of the same. An old bookmark, old notes, another card from a friend. But also, look at this: these quotes I copied on scrap paper in painful handwriting years ago – and instead of writing the title of the book (which would’ve been helpful) I wrote the page number instead. I must’ve thought I’d remember the title, and clearly didn’t.

But it, too, has words for us here (and if you know the book they’re from, please tell me because I’ve scoured our shelves and the internet, and haven’t found it yet):

…cleanse our hearts of any unworthy motives…Let this become Your house of worship, of teaching, of ministering to human hearts, of meeting needs, of caring for little children. Let joy reign here and good fellowship.

Let this place be as a light on a lampstand, a beacon on a hill, shining out for all to see.

Again, the Spirit is up to something, making sure I’m paying attention, helping us find what we didn’t know to look for: Our hearts need cleansed, our spaces need dedicated, our purpose needs to be clear and remembered.

None of those are easy things. The simplest of them can bring us to our knees as we realize God has promoted us to the level of our incompetence so we recognize we can’t do anything without Him.

But we are present with this here, right now — you reading this, me typing this — and that is how we steward all the moments in our days, because stewardship is caring for what’s right in front of us, within reach, not distracted with other obligations and possibilities and needs.

It is my attention to my family, and my heart, and my attitude toward others, and all these relationships in the spheres around me. It is my efforts put toward the projects on this laptop, and that stack of books, and this student, and that client. It is this home, and this day, and the lesson I need to drive the kids to, and the hour I will spend there, working and waiting.

It is a million things, but it can’t be a to-do list or religious compulsion. It has to look like connection, and awareness, and Kingdom culture, instead.

We’re not showy about it, we don’t need to wake the Hessians. We take care of maintenance so we’re ready when a need arises; we have to steward well so we have wide margins that allow for freedom and power. Because the Spirit is up to something, creating an atmosphere of healing, wholeness, restoration, and strength. We make our silent advance — not in attacking, but in liberating — as we follow His promptings throughout the march.



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P.P.S. Remember when we talked about the Holy of Holies, and how we each hold the Temple within us, so caring for the Body becomes a sacred thing? I created a short study out of that, and it’s a free download. You may print and share as many as you need (it’s 11 pages) with your family, friends, kids, small group, etc. Right here: