Tag: songs

My Favorite Enneagram Resources

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If you and I were to sitting down for coffee, it wouldn’t take long before the topic of the Enneagram came up. I LOVE talking about the Enneagram!

Why? Because I love getting to know people and understanding them at a deeper level. But here’s the thing: I naturally put people into a box of what my own personality looks like and I struggle to see things from other people’s point of view. The Enneagram helps me “get” people better.

If you want to learn more about the Enneagram, there’s a plethora of great resources out there and it can get quite overwhelming trying to figure out where to start. So to help you out, here’s a list of some of my favorite resources.

Website

The Enneagram Institute – If you don’t know where to begin, this is the perfect place to start. This site has easy-to-navigate descriptions of the nine types. It also has a reliable and affordable test if you’re struggling to figure out which type is yours.

Books

The Road Back to You – This is a great primer for understanding the nine types.

The Path Between Us – I personally enjoyed this book more than The Road Back to You because it deals with our relationships with others. The book description on its Amazon page says, “Most of us have no idea how others see or process their experiences. And that can make relationships hard, whether with intimate partners, with friends, or in our professional lives. Understanding the motivations and dynamics of these different personality types can be the key that unlocks sometimes mystifying behavior in others―and in ourselves. This book from Suzanne Stabile on the nine Enneagram types and how they behave and experience relationships will guide readers into deeper insights about themselves, their types, and others’ personalities so that they can have healthier, more life-giving relationships.”

The Sacred Enneagram – I’ve never felt more seen than when I read this book. I will probably read this book again and again throughout my lifetime.

Instagram Accounts

@justmyenneatype

Music

Sleeping At Last – It may seem weird to have a music section on a post like this, but I can’t leave out Sleeping At Last’s enneagram-based songs. The music and lyrics of each of these songs are carefully crafted to reflect of the types in a way that words alone cannot.

Stuff for Your Home

All Good Things Collective Enneagram Line – The thing I love about these prints and canvases is that they have two for each type—one that focuses on each type’s strength and one that focuses on each type’s weakness.

Enneagram & Coffee – Because coffee.

 

If you’re wondering why I didn’t list any podcasts, it’s because I don’t listen to podcasts much. I don’t have anything against them, I’m just not a podcast person.

What are your favorite Enneagram resources? Tell me in the comments. 🙂

Words We Sing on Monday

estherguy6 Comments

Update (December 17, 2019): It has been one year since I wrote this blog post. It has also been one year since my last cortisone injections! Hallelujah! (Insert shouting and happy dancing here.) As I look back and read the words I typed a year ago, a different set of challenges weighs on my heart. But these words are still true: “God is with me. And today, when my mind is full of questions, that’s all I need to know.”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Yesterday in church, I found myself swept away by a song that spoke of the God’s goodness and repeatedly declared,

“You’re never gonna let,

Never gonna let me down.”

I wasn’t just singing words. I was remembering times when I desperately cried out to God in my pain and He flooded me with His comfort. I was worshipping the God I know, the God I’ve experienced.

I didn’t know that I was preaching truths into my soul I would need to hold onto the next day.

People ask me, “How are your hands?” more often than, “How are you?” Lupus has been unkind to my joints, adding difficulty to my life as a pianist. Every few months, I get multiple cortisone injections in order to continue to use my hands and play the piano. For those of you who are wondering, yes, the injections hurt. But the relief they bring and the music they allow me to produce are enough to keep me coming back for more.

Today, I visited the hand surgeon for my routine injections—one in each thumb and index finger. Four in total. “Do you think they’re working?” he asked. Then he answered his own question: “Well, of course they’re working. You wouldn’t be back here to subject yourself to this if they weren’t working.”

And then he spoke of the best way to proceed, expressing concern about the danger of repeated injections for so long. I told him, “The rheumatologist doubled my dosage of Plaquenil last Friday, and hopefully that’ll help me to not need shots as frequently.”

“Then, let’s see,” he replied. “Let’s see how things go with the new dose of Plaquenil, and then when”—not if—“you come back, let’s do an MRI and consider surgery.”

This isn’t the first time we’ve discussed surgery. In past visits I’ve barraged the poor doctor with a multitude of questions:

  • Will surgery affect my piano playing? (Possibly.)
  • If I get surgery, is it possible I will need surgery again? (Yes.)
  • What is the likelihood that surgery will be effective in my case? (It’s hard to say.)

The prospect of surgery has never sounded attractive to me. But as the doctor spoke today, the prospect of continuing as I have been looked equally unattractive. No option comes with a guarantee; and no option is without dangerous risks.

This is where I’m at. A place where I have no idea what the best way to move forward is. A place of unknown. A place where the mind easily imagines worst case scenarios.

So today I’m facing my worry with quiet trust. I’ve prayed short prayers—anything longer than a few words will bring me to tears. It’s not that I’m afraid of tears and emotion. I’m sure I’ll be ready to cry ugly tears tomorrow. But today, I want to process. To let the words of the doctor sink in. More importantly, to let the words I sang yesterday sink in.

You’re never gonna let,

Never gonna let me down.

You’re never gonna let,

Never gonna let me down…

After all, what’s the point of singing words like this on Sunday if I can’t continue to sing them as I face the darkness on Monday?

I’m not praising God out of naiveté. I can sing to God, “You’re never gonna let me down,” because I’ve been through the unknown and darkness so many times already and He’s never stopped being good or left me to fend for myself. He’s always been with me. He’s always brought me through.

God is with me. And today, when my mind is full of questions, that’s all I need to know.

“‘Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall call his name Immanuel’
(which means, God with us).”
“And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Singing My Theology, No. 2

estherguy2 Comments

pexels-photo-92083.jpegI’m a bibliophile. I live in a house that is overflowing with books. One of my favorite genres? Theology. Aside from the Bible, wanna guess what my first theology book ever was? Not some masterpiece by Augustine, Bonhoeffer, or even C. S. Lewis.

My very first theology book was Wee Sing Bible Songs…complete with a cassette tape. I acquired this priceless gem around the first grade. I had never heard of the word “theology,” yet deep theological truths were sinking deep into my heart as I sang along with the cassette tape that played over and over and over again in my parents’ car.

Jesus loves me, this I know for the Bible tells me so. Little ones, to Him belong. They are weak, but He is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes Jesus loves me…

God is so good. God is so good. God is so good, He’s so good to me…

I’ve got peace like a river. I’ve got peace like a river. I’ve got peace like a river in my soul…I’ve got joy like a fountain. I’ve got joy like a fountain…

The songs we sing matter. I don’t remember any sermons from the first decade of my life, but the songs I sang are still imprinted in my memory.

In the months that led up to my lupus diagnosis, my body was frail. I couldn’t keep down food and lost about 20 pounds in two and a half months. (If you don’t know me, I’m 4′ 10″, so those 20 pounds were significant.) I couldn’t get out of bed or squeeze a tube of toothpaste on my own. Simple things like walking and playing the piano were excruciating. This is when I truly began to understand: They are weak, but He is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me…

At first, I was hopeful that it wasn’t anything serious, and even if it was, certainly God would heal me soon. But as time went on with my health getting worse and no answers from the doctors, I felt like my time in this world might be coming to a close. And one evening, I asked my husband sit beside me as I lay in bed. Through tears, I let him know I loved him and told him my dying wish. I was sad at the thought of leaving him behind so young, but I was no longer afraid of death or what the future may hold. I had peace. I’ve got peace like a river. I’ve got peace like a river…

I remember wanting to read my Bible, but my fingers were too weak to hold such a bulky book. So I spent a lot of time lying in bed, alone with my thoughts. Nothing to distract me from the tender voice of God. I still cherish those moments. Yes, they were excruciating, but God’s presence was so sweet. I prayed with rawness and honesty; I didn’t have the energy to offer dignified prayers. And as I silently poured out my heart, God wrapped me in His loving arms. God is so good. God is so good. God is so good, He’s so good to me…

Someone once told me that there’s something about suffering that changes a person; suffering refines us. It is suffering that has taught me the depth and richness of the words I sang as a girl. And as chronic illness brings pain and challenges to daily life, these songs keep my mind fixed on the God who is strong and good, who loves me, and who fills my soul with peace and joy.

 

Yet

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One of my favorite words in the Bible is “yet.”

yet

ADVERB
1 Up until the present or a specified or implied time; by now or then.
2 Still; even (used to emphasize increase or repetition)
3 In spite of that; nevertheless
CONJUNCTION
But at the same time; but nevertheless.
(from English Oxford Living Dictionaries)
These three letters are easy to miss. We rush past “yet” to find the “good stuff,” not realizing that “yet” is the good stuff.
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?
O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer,
and by night, but I find no rest.
Yet you are holy,
enthroned on the praises of Israel.”
“O you hope of Israel,
its savior in time of trouble,
why should you be like a stranger in the land,
like a traveler who turns aside to tarry for a night?
Why should you be like a man confused,
like a mighty warrior who cannot save?
Yet you, O Lord, are in the midst of us,
and we are called by your name;
do not leave us.”
“Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
God, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer’s;
he makes me tread on my high places.”

God doesn’t stop being who He is just because life becomes hard. Darkness and suffering don’t negate God; they provide the canvas to make His light and goodness more visible.

So let’s make “yet” part of our anthem:

  • Though what I’m going through is hard, yet God is still good.
  • Though my heart is heavy and I don’t know how I’m going to make it, yet I will live with joy because God is my hope and my strength.
  • Though God seems distant and His silence is drowning the sound of my prayers, yet He is near, He hears my cries, and He’s working in ways my eyes cannot see.
  • Though my life is hard and messy, yet I will keep praising God, holding onto Him, and trusting in Him because He is still an amazing God who loves me and is able to accomplish infinitely more than I ask or think.

“Yet” is the kind of word where the tension between theology and real life thrives. It does not deny the reality of what we’re going through, but it chooses to focus on a bigger reality that our human eyes cannot always see. This word changes our perspective, taking our gaze off ourselves and lifting our eyes to the Almighty God who holds all things together and has the power to redeem people and situations.

 

 

“Weep With Me,” by Rend Collective

Weep with me. Lord, will You weep with me?

I don’t need answers. All I need is to know that You care for me.

Hear my plea. Are You even listening?

Lord, I will wrestle with Your heart, but I won’t let You go.

You know I believe. Help my unbelief.

Yet I will praise You, yet I will sing of Your name.

Here in the shadows, here I will offer my praise.

What’s true in the light is still true in the dark.

You’re good and You’re kind and You care for this heart.

Lord, I believe that You weep with me.

Part the seas, Lord, make a way for me.

Here in the midst of my lament I have faith, yes, I still believe.

You love me. Your plans are to prosper me.

You’re working everything for good even when I can’t see.

Turn my lament into a love song. From this lament raise up an anthem.

Yet I will praise You, yet I will sing of Your name.

Here in the shadows, here I will offer my praise.

What’s true in the light is still true in the dark.

You’re good and You’re kind and You care for this heart.

Lord, I believe that You weep with me.

 

Singing My Theology, No. 1

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Me and a friend from college were having coffee together. Our conversation meandered through the topics of life updates, marriage, ministry, and how awkward it is to be in our thirties. Somewhere in our meanderings, we found ourselves discussing painful seasons of our lives and the angry honest conversations we’ve had with God. This is when she recited a line from a song: “The Lord knows the way through the wilderness…”

“Wait! Were we in that class together?!” Yes, we were. The class was called—please don’t make fun of me—”Pastor’s Wife and Ministry.” I know. It sounds absolutely ridiculous. But there were things we learned in that class that carried us through some of the hardest seasons of our lives. The main thing that stayed with us is a song the professor made us sing at the start of every class. (I know this is getting cheesy, but stay with me. I promise it’s gonna get better!) This would be a good time to mention that I’m a pianist, and for some reason, this class met in the choir room. So our sweet professor would say, “Esther, come to the piano,” and together we would sing,

The Lord knows the way through the wilderness,

and all I have to do is follow.

The Lord knows the way through the wilderness,

and all I have to do is follow.

Strength for today is mine all the way

and all that I need for tomorrow.

The Lord knows the way through the wilderness,

and all I have to do is follow.

The professor was (and still is) an amazing woman. Her name is Marcia Lednicky, but everybody calls her Sister Lednicky—not “Sister” like a nun, but like the way that old school people in some churches call each other “Brother So-and-So” or “Sister So-and-So.” She was the wife of our college president, and before being the First Lady of Central Bible College, she and her husband had a dynamic ministry that brought them all over the world. Now that they’re retired, their lives don’t look that much different; they’re still traveling the world and ministering together.

The best things we learned in class came from the wealth of stories Sister Lednicky shared with us. The ones that left the biggest impression on me were about her daughter who died when she was a little girl. (She even told us some of the nasty things people said to her at the height of her grief.) She’s no stranger to pain and heartache. So when she started every class with this song, she was purposefully searing the words into our minds. The Lord knows the way through the wilderness, and all I have to do is follow.

“One day,” she would say, “you’re gonna go through a really hard season in your life, and you’ll be crying over the sink while you wash the dishes, and you’re gonna be singin’ this song! The Lord know the way through the wilderness…” Every single young lady in that class laughed. We thought she was being silly. But I think that over the years, every single one of us did exactly what she said we would do. I’ve had numerous “The Lord knows that way through the wilderness” crying sessions. Some while doing dishes. A few in the car. At least once while kneeling on my bathroom floor.

There’s something about singing our theology that has a way of speaking deep into our souls in ways that words alone cannot.

Sometimes our heavy hearts need words of encouragement, but some emotions are too profound for words. Music goes deeper; it can speak in ways preachers can’t. So sing your theology. Sing it loud for the world to hear. Sing it even louder for your heart to hear.