Spiritual Terraces

Happy Friday!

              Congratulations, you’ve reached the end of another grueling work week. I’m especially excited for this weekend as it’s the beginning of the NCAA baseball tournament. I’m a big Ole Miss baseball fan and my Rebels will be hosting the regional round in Oxford this weekend. Fingers crossed that the results will be better than last year when the Rebels flamed out in their own regional after posting the best regular season in school history.

But on to today’s faith reflection…

              Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of traveling to Southwest Iowa to spend time with my girlfriend’s family. Her family is a proud farming family whose connection to their land pre-dates the Civil War. Upon receiving the grand tour of the farm, I noticed a few things immediately.

              First, it was impossible not to notice the flooding that the area has suffered. Fields recently planted with crops looked more like fishing holes than an area suitable for growing row crops. Please keep the farmers of the Midwest in your prayers as they recover from what has been a nightmare of a year to this point. Second, the dark, black soil of the area is striking. Living in Tennessee the past two years, I have become accustomed to rocky, red clay. I’ve quickly discovered the clay isn’t ideal for developing lush lawns and gardens! (I’m kind of OCD about grass!) The rich soil made me nostalgic for my youth spent in rural Southwest Indiana. However, the most intriguing aspect of the landscape was a feature not seen on the farms of Haubstadt, Indiana. I noticed large mounds that were covered in grass. The mounds were maybe five or six feet wide and extended the length of several football fields. What in the world were these peculiar mounds and what was their purpose? It turns out that these mounds have a name --- terraces! It turns out the terraces are strategically placed to prevent the erosion of the striking black soil. You learn something new every day!

              Just as the rich soil blanketing the Midwest can erode and wash away, so too can our faith erode and wash away when the storms of life come. To prevent this erosion, we need to strategically place spiritual terraces in our daily and weekly routines – figurative mounds that keep our faith in place and allow us to grow our spiritual bounty. Here are a few practices I’ve found that have kept my faith from eroding and washing away with even the most violent of storms.

Daily Scripture Reading – Ok, this one should be obvious! However, it is crucial to spiritual development and growth. It’s not necessary to read an entire book of the Bible or even entire chapters. Simply reading a few verses a day adds to the richness of your spiritual soil. I often find myself alternating between Old Testament and New Testament passages. (Apparently my OCD ended at lawn care and didn't carry over to my bible studies) I find that this practice helps me more clearly understand the relationship between the two testaments or covenants. Thus, the entire plan of salvation comes into greater focus.

Weekly Repentance – We all make mistakes. Every week. Every day. Probably even every hour. Maybe you're making a mistake right now by reading this blog! (Hopefully not) The good news of the Gospel allows us to repent for our mistakes and un-Christlike thoughts. Admittedly, it’s an opportunity that I don’t make as much use of as I should. Since my move towards a deeper faith, I have genuinely felt a deeper conviction while living in sin. Thus, I am led to seek repentance on a regular basis. For as we read in 2 Corinthians 7: 8-10: “Even if I caused you sorrow by my letter, I do not regret it. Though I did regret it- I see that my letter hurt you, but only for a little while- yet now I am happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you to repentance. For you became sorrowful as God intended and so were not harmed in any way by us. Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.” Hey you just got your daily scripture terrace covered for the day!

Small Group Study – This is one of my favorite things about the Evangelical churches I have been a part of. I’ve been affiliated with a couple of small groups over the past two years – one on Wednesday nights and one on Sunday nights. I’ve been amazed at the camaraderie that develops from these groups. Close friendships have been built with people I never suspected I’d become friends with. These groups have allowed me to gain a greater perspective with regards to those with backgrounds different than my own. I’ve also found these groups keep me accountable and on the narrow path of following Christ. I feel challenged, refreshed, and on fire each time I leave one of my small group studies. If you are not currently involved with a small group, I suggest finding one as soon as possible.

              The above are just a few of the many spiritual terraces that exist out there. I often do not follow these practices as well as I should. Maybe you will resolve with me to build strong terraces? We never know when a torrential rain will sweep through and threaten the rich soil of faith we have long cultivated. Leave a comment below with some of the spiritual terraces you employ in your walk with Christ.

Have a great weekend.

In Christ,

Kendal May

My Story

Welcome to my blog!

Allow me to introduce myself:

Just shy of turning 30, I work as an accountant for a medical device manufacturer in Murfreesboro, TN. I’ve lived in the Nashville, TN area for just over two years. Over the past two years, I’ve developed a fascination with theology and now feel compelled to write down my thoughts. But before I get in too deep, I think it’s important to understand where I come from spiritually and culturally.

I grew up the oldest of two children in a typical American middle-class family. I call Haubstadt, Indiana my hometown. As the name would imply, it’s full of Germans. About 1,600 of them to be exact. I feel fortunate to have grown up in such a supportive and engaged community. Throughout its existence, Haubstadt has been linked with one large institution – the Roman Catholic Church. It was in the timelessly preserved sanctuary of Saints Peter and Paul Catholic Church that my faith formation began.

To be fair, my entrance into Church life actually began with my Baptism at Good Shepherd Catholic Church in Evansville, Indiana. My grand entrance into the universal body of Christ took place only a few short weeks after my birth in 1989. Little did I know, this day would play a crucial role in my life 27 years later. Shortly after the birth of my younger brother, my family and I made the short move to Haubstadt from Evansville. After all, my father had grown up in the well-kept town and was well aware of the quality of life it would offer. My faith formation continued after my enrollment in the elementary school at Saints Peter and Paul. Following the typical trajectory, I received my first Holy Communion and made my first confession during my elementary years. In these days, I cherished my role as an altar server. Although I didn’t verbalize my feelings, I always looked forward to the days when I would don the white alb and serve at Mass. To this day, I clearly recall the feeling of holiness that overcame me each and every time I walked across the altar during Mass. I now know that feeling was the Holy Spirit. It was then that I felt a small spark of a call towards the ministry.

To my dismay, the local Catholic elementary school only went through the fifth grade. I was heading to public school. With the new school came freedoms such as a more relaxed dress code. On the flip side, my religious education and formation was greatly slowed. Sure, I attended religious education classes on a weekly basis, but it sure wasn’t the same. I continued my slide away from the faith throughout middle school and high school. I received the sacrament of Confirmation sophomore year, but certainly hadn’t made my parents Baptismal faith my own. I competed in sports through high school which greatly shaped my worldview. More on that in a later post.

After a successful high school career, it was on to college. I chose to attend Murray State University, a brief three-hour drive from home. During college, my slide away from faith became a full-on sprint away from my religious upbringing. No, I never intellectually rejected my faith, but my actions certainly showed how far I had fallen. It was in those years that I began to dabble with alcohol.  My college years were filled with overconsumption and regret. Not all was lost in college however. I made many great friends and received an outstanding education in my field of accounting. After a number of interviews and a few stressful months, I received a full time offer to start with the audit team at Crowe Horwath in Grand Rapids, Michigan. God was faithful even when I wasn’t.

I was excited to move to Michigan and get my career moving. Over the years, I had developed a great appreciation for craft beer. Anyone who knows anything about Grand Rapids knows that it is one of the best cities in the country for craft beer lovers. This was going to be great! The only problem was that I didn’t know anyone in town. This led to lots of nights alone on the couch with a 6 pack of craft beer and a documentary. Regrettably, I continued to overdrink. I had turned an exciting hobby into a detriment. In the meantime, my career advanced and I passed the CPA exam. The completion of the CPA exam was the culmination of a very trying 20 months. Although I didn’t recognize it at the time, it was God leading me through those exams. God was faithful even when I wasn’t.

I grew to love the state of Michigan. In fact, I still love the place today and often daydream about a cottage on Lake Michigan. Unfortunately, the seven-hour drive from Haubstadt made it difficult for me to see my family on a regular basis. I had approached the leadership of my firm in Grand Rapids about transferring to the Nashville, TN office of the firm. Graciously, the leaders of the firm obliged and a few short months later, I was a resident of Franklin, TN.

Here’s where the story starts to pick up. I had attended Church in Grand Rapids, but never really embraced my faith. I had still not yet claimed for myself the faith my parents showed in having me Baptized as a child. It wouldn’t stay that way for long.  In June 2017, I was making a routine trip down Mallory Lane in Franklin headed for Wal-Mart. I had no idea what the implications of this innocuous trip would be. As I headed down the road, the Lord clearly told me to purchase a Bible at Wal-Mart. By the graces received in the Sacraments administered to me previously, I obliged. I strolled into Wal-Mart and left as the proud new owner of a New King James Bible!

As I mentioned, my hometown is synonymous with Roman Catholicism. It was the only thing I knew. In fact, I knew very few Protestants growing up. I had always been curious about Protestants and the Reformation. One day, I headed down Franklin Road and spotted Brentwood Baptist Church out of the corner of my eye. The building was huge and majestic in a contemporary sort of way. I had to know more! I went home and pulled up the Brentwood Baptist website. I listened to an excellent sermon from the youth pastor of Brentwood Baptist. Impressed and intrigued with the message I had heard, I loaded up another sermon. It turned out that the preacher of this sermon was another guest pastor – the pastor of a Brentwood Baptist campus in my new hometown of Franklin. With a renewed enthusiasm and my Bible in hand, I resolved to attend a service at the Brentwood Baptist campus in Franklin. This Church is known as The Church at West Franklin.

The following Sunday, I made good on my promise and made my way to The Church at West Franklin. Understandably, I was a little nervous. I had never darkened the door of a Protestant Church.  (What if they were strange!?) Imagine my surprise when I was informed I could take coffee into the sanctuary. I think I was sold at that point! All kidding aside, my interactions with the Church members that day and in the following weeks altered my perspective on what a Church could be. Everyone was so incredibly friendly and helpful! Shaking so many hands ensured that Capral Tunnel was in my future.  I was introduced to the enthusiastic preacher I had seen on my computer screen. The warmth of the membership at The Church at West Franklin was undeniably genuine. Each person I met remembered my name when I returned in the following weeks. I was hooked after that first Sunday!

Over the next few months, I developed a friendship with the enthusiastic pastor and others within the body. I even joined the pastor in a small group setting on Wednesday evenings with a few other believers with a similar background to mine. My curiosity and interest in theology spiked during this time. The spark I felt on the altar back and Saints Peter and Paul was now a roaring flame. I had never felt closer to Christ. I had finally sealed into my heart faith that my parents had put forth in my Baptism so long ago. Everything was wonderful, but there was just one problem. Baptism by immersion is required for full membership at The Church of West Franklin. I had discussed the issue with the pastor and decided internally that the time was not right for immersion. I began to seek out other alternatives. Being a student of theology, I turned to the writings of John Calvin. Calvin’s concise theology made sense to me and it didn’t hurt that he advocated for infant Baptism! That was it, I had to move to a congregation that practiced in the Reformed tradition!

Enter Cornerstone Presbyterian Church. This Church was also located in Franklin, TN and is a member of the conservative Presbyterian Church in America (PCA). Immediately, I fell in love with Reformed worship. It was reverent yet spirit-filled at the same time. Like The Church at West Franklin before, I got to know the pastor and other members at Cornerstone. This, I decided, was where I wanted to place membership. I completed a very through six-week membership class at Cornerstone. All that stood in my way was an interview with one of the elders of the congregation.  I never made it to that interview. In my heart, I couldn’t shake the feelings of joy and warmth I had experienced while attending the Church at West Franklin. I pushed the Baptism issue aside for the moment and returned to regular attendance at the Church at West Franklin.

Several months went by and the calendar flipped to 2019. I knew deep in my heart that I had to tackle the Baptism issue if I was going to continue attending a Baptist Church. I wanted to be faithful to God and his Word. The Word led me to confirm my belief in the validity of Infant Baptism. Still, I knew that West Franklin was where I needed to be. I was at a crossroads and needed to make a decision. I prayerfully asked God to lead me to the proper solution. Suddenly, the mud evaporated and the water was as crystal-clear as Torch Lake in Northern Michigan.  I was to proceed with immersion solely as a profession of faith. That is, the grace I received from my Baptism so many years ago was still sufficient. I came to see the immersion as the public affirmation of the Baptismal promises my parents made. My immersion was not a replacement of my infant Baptism but rather a fulfillment of it.  My faith was now officially my own. There was no more hiding that I was a Christian believer. On Sunday, May 19^th, I was immersed at The Church of West Franklin. Immediately, a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. I was following the will of God that I had resisted for so long. Just as before, God was faithful even when I wasn’t.

In Christ,

Kendal May