Neverperfect.Alwaysreal

in which I admit failure and move on

2011-10-22T09:01:00.002-04:00

Well, we're nearing the end of the month, and I haven't done a great job of keeping up with my 31 Days of Gratitude. I have still be grateful...don't get me wrong! But I have not been great at posting, that is the thing.

And with returning to preaching tomorrow and to office hours next week, the likelihood of posting for the rest of the month will go waaaaay down, so I am admitting failure and moving on.

I did write a newsletter article for church that I think is not too shabby, so here goes with that:

***

Hello Everyone! It’s good to be back from Maternity Leave and getting back into the swing of things. Especially at this busy time of year when we are looking toward Advent and Christmas, it’s good to be an active part of this community of faith again. However, I’ve learned a few things during my leave that I’d like to share, things that I think are especially pertinent at this time of year:

1. Be Here Now.

This is one of my husband’s favorite new phrases, and a reminder to both of us. Strange as it seems, when my children are swarming around me (well, Jack and Irene – Maggie doesn’t swarm yet…but she will!), sometimes it can seem very much like an escape to browse something on my iPhone, or to log onto the Internet and do some shopping, or to pick up a magazine and start paging through.

Strangely, adding an additional activity like one I mentioned above seems to create a distraction away from the chaos of small children demanding attention. And, factually, it does. But that’s precisely the problem, because then I am distracted from my children. While they long for me to meet their gaze, I am studying a screen. While they desire human attention and interaction, I am interacting with a machine.

During this time of Maternity Leave, I have had no excuse to use the computer “for work” or to be glued to my phone in case something was needed of me. Of course, I have taken calls and answered emails, but there is not as much of a sense of urgency as I usually feel. And so, I have unplugged a bit more, and been more present with my family. I’d like to keep this up even after being back at work. There is a time and a place for multi-tasking, but when it comes at the expense of interaction with my children, it takes away from our relationship and our home life.

2. Slow Down.

We live in such a hurry-scurry culture that it is easy to feel compelled to function at warp speed, even when doing things that require no rush, like unloading the dishwasher on a Sunday afternoon when there are no other demanding tasks ahead, or getting through the grocery store in a hurry even when there is no appointment to run to. It can make a huge different to slow down and be intentional about interacting with family members, with those who provide services at places of business, with friends, and with neighbors (and yes, my classic urging to even slow down with other impatient drivers on the road). The interactions are richer, more focused, more gentle, more authentic. When you really see the person you’re looking at and really hear the person you’re speaking with, it’s remarkable how good you can feel.

3. Don’t Cram.

One of the reasons that we are not Here Now and we can’t Slow Down is because we cram too much into our lives. One of the biggest joys of this leave time has been just being with my family in our home without rushing to an activity or appointment each day. It’s all too easy to have each night of the week stocked with an activity (even an enjoyable one) or an appointment or a meeting. It seems to happen sometimes without us even noticing how full the calendar is getting, until we realize that we haven’t eaten a home-cooked meal in three weeks and we haven’t needed to run the dishwasher but once in the past week to wash water glasses and coffee cups!

Sometimes, the more we run from one thing to another, the more we get accustomed to that pace, and we somehow tell ourselves that if we’re not that busy, we must not be doing enough and we’re lazy or boring. Actually, there’s nothing that says we can’t set limits on our time and say no to things that we know will just take us away from what we value most. We are allowed to declare what it is that we value, and we are allowed to declare what it is we would prefer not to commit to right now.

There are different seasons of our lives—times when we’re willing to spread ourselves thinner than others, times when we’re eager for something new and stimulating, and times when we need to clear the plate and keep some space. I can’t help but think of church life in writing this, because I know that you may read this and think, “Well, the next time someone asks me to serve on a committee, my answer is no!”

Truthfully, one of the things that I love about this church is that we don’t have tons of committees fighting over building space and calendar space to meet as often as possible. Our committees meet when they need to meet, and ad hoc groups of folks pull together the activities that need to be arranged. I hope that this culture allows people to commit to those things that truly want to be a part of, and to know that they need not feel guilty when they set clear boundaries about not being able to do certain things. That being said, I hope that you have found a place within the life of the church to serve in a way that is life-giving to you and also helps to meet the needs of our community!

I pray that as we enter the holiday season, you will be able to join me in remembering these three realizations and making plans and commitments accordingly. Our lives can be so much richer when we enjoy the commitments we’ve made, we’re spending time with people we love to be around, and we are taking the time to put one foot in front of the other without having to run from one thing to another.

more grace

2011-10-13T20:44:00.001-04:00

Yikes! Life is getting ahead of me!

There's definitely something about having a third child that kind of tips the scales in favor of forgetfulness, less time, less focus, and less room in the brain for things.

I want to keep up with my 31 Days of Gratitude, but I feel like each day would be a repeat of being thankful for grace! However, I guess there's nothing wrong with that, either!

family

2011-10-09T20:22:00.002-04:00

This weekend was so wonderful. Sometimes, I hate the idea of looking into a weekend that seems like it might stretch on forever, without lots of plans or tasks to complete. But this weekend was the perfect balance of downtime and activity.

Yesterday, we went to a fall festival at a local orchard/garden center, which was so lovely. While we were there, we bought apples for the recipes we made this weekend.

Last evening we went to an Octoberfest party at a friend's house where there were lots of other kids; the kids had a good time, the baby was passed around, my husband and I had the chance to reconnect with some friends we hadn't seen in a while.

Then today, we (naughty naughty) skipped church and went to the closest Wegman's grocery store as a treat. The baby was cranky, but it was still a nice trip. After having lunch there, we headed home and made an apple pie. Thanks to the genius teachers at the kids' daycare, I learned that they can help cut up apples with plastic butter knives, so they were hard at work (and occupied) the entire time we prepped the apples. The pie was DELICIOUS (recipe here -- the cooked syrup for the filling makes it, I'm convinced) and my husband then used the leftover apples (we were a little chop-happy with them) to make these pork chops.

Such a wonderful weekend! Happily exhausted this evening, but it is so worth it.

thankful for cooking

2011-10-08T08:22:00.000-04:00

Today I am thankful for cooking. I have made the following recipes during the past week:

Chicken Rosa Rosa Bake

Pumpkin Dump Cake

Homemade Pumpkin Spice Latte

Chicken Roll-Ups

I do not cook much at home, but with some extra time on my hands, I've been more into it. I hope that I can keep up the habit after I start back to church at the end of this month...it's fun, much better for us, and much more economical! And mostly tastes better, too!

Tomorrow we're baking an apple pie. Should be fun!

grace

2011-10-05T20:30:00.005-04:00

Today, I'm thankful for grace.

Grace because even when I stumble (ahem, no post yesterday), I get back up and try again the next day.

Grace because God lets the little things slide, and so should we.

Grace because we're all human and we all make mistakes.

My favorite story about grace comes from my experience of CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education/chaplaincy internship) a few years ago. My son Jack was just turning a year old, so I was still a new mother, and I was scattered. On that day, we were supposed to have a list of goals and objectives we'd come up with for our own personal and professional growth during the internship. We were supposed to have it typed up and copied so that each person in the group would have a copy.

I forgot. It just completely slipped my mind.

I sat there, thinking how I could cover for myself. I could handwrite the goals and hope that I'd be called on after break so I'd have time to run copies. I could jot notes and hope for an extra-long break so I could type them up and make copies. I could dig a hole in the ground and crawl on in.

Eventually, I just admitted defeat. I spoke up, confessed that I had completely forgotten to complete the assignment, and the director said, simply and kindly, "That's okay, you'll go next week."

I was dumbfounded. No guilt, no lecture, no disappointed-eyes. Just grace. It was wonderful. It was an example to me of how I want to treat others.

Thank God for grace.

"Thankful" image from mtsofan on flickr.

"Swedish Proverb" image from http://jennyanddukefamily.blogspot.com/

thanks for the challenge

2011-10-03T21:03:00.003-04:00

Today I am thankful for several blogs that are run/written by Hugh Hollowell, one of my favorite people to follow on Twitter and to read online. Since I "met" him on Twitter a year or two ago, links that he's posted, articles that he's written, and challenges he's put forth on Twitter to help those in need have stretched me in my faith and in putting action behind my beliefs. Today, I read the following posts/articles that he either wrote or linked to, and they, once again, stretched me. So, today I am thankful to Hugh for the challenge.

Articles:

Visiting the Prisoner

Why I Help Addicts Shoot Up (side note: I really didn't want to read this article, but taking Hugh's recommendation that it was one of the best he'd read in the last year, I did, and I'm glad for it.)

Also, if you feel moved to action, Love Wins could definitely use your support. Hugh works tirelessly to have a ministry of presence and friendship with those he meets, and he writes candidly about his work and his journey. Sometimes he loses support because those who had been providing it disagree with something he's written (probably something that stretches them beyond where they want to go!) and so I know that Love Wins would value your support if you can spare it.

Image by mtsofan on flickr.

today I am thankful for...

2011-10-02T21:03:00.005-04:00

A wonderful dinner with my inlaws to celebrate my mother- and father-in-law's upcoming 40th anniversary. It was a really nice evening out, and to top it off, the baby slept through the entire dinner, so I got to enjoy it with two hands! Thanks, Maggie!

Totally looking like I am up to something in this picture...can't remember the exact context when it was snapped...but notice sleeping baby tucked away at the right! :)

31 days of gratitude

2011-10-01T21:45:00.003-04:00

Inspired by this post over at Remodeling This Life, I decided to take the plunge and do a blog challenge that will get me posting every day (or so I hope).

There are a variety of "31 Days Of..." going on around the Interwebs, and I decided that I would like to do 31 days of gratitude.

Today, I am grateful for Emily's post and for the chance to come along on this challenge, to get myself posting again, and maybe even writing more again, too.

Image by mtsofan on flickr.

yay! I won!

2011-09-07T09:06:00.003-04:00

How cool is this? I won the book from this giveaway over at The Non-Consumer Advocate, a site that I visit every day and which inspires me immensely to consume less and to be more frugal and more aware of what, and how much, I waste.

Thanks, Katy!

these post-baby days

2011-09-03T09:39:00.003-04:00

I've decided that I'd like to post this here instead of just writing about it somewhere else, because if anyone wants to give me feedback, I'd be glad for it. I also want to be transparent about the difficulty of the "baby blues" days of postpartum life, even though of course these days are nothing like the days would be of someone who truly has postpartum depression. I'm not even attempting to suggest that my struggles are comparable, but I just need to process them, and, fortunately, upon this third baby, I think I understand a little bit better why I feel the way I feel and what things are upsetting to me (despite the fact that I know the bulk of it is hormonal and will poof itself away at about one or two months postpartum).

First off, let me say that I don't like hormonal things. I don't like to blame a mood on something I can't control, or to complain of being sad or weepy or irritable because of "hormones." And yet, I know that it's a very real phenomenon. It's real to feel a certain way during pregnancy because of all the hormones coursing through to help the baby grow, and it's normal to feel a certain way after birth because of the hormones that get your body back to "normal," start breastmilk flowing, and get you bonding with your baby. So, I know intellectually that hormones are doing things that cause me then to feel a certain way, like irritated one moment and weepy the next and nostalgic for the worst parts of pregnancy the next.

Here are some things I think I've figured out this time about what's going on in these post-baby days:

1. I feel a certain sadness the further away I get from the day of the birth. I have felt this all three times, and it always baffles me, because labor is painful and not that much fun and is just all the way that the baby gets out. But in the postpartum days, admission to triage is tinged with warm, glowing light; the moments of clenching my husband's hand during contractions makes me a little spritzy with tears; the nurse's kind words to me seem something I can never repay. And, of course, the moment the baby actually enters the world seems to be so wondrous and beautiful that I wish to relive it over and over again. Now, that last bit is real, because the moment of birth IS so momentous, and I think that's the thing.

There are lots of experiences in life that we can replicate (true, things are not the same each time; every moment is unique; I get that, really I do, but I still maintain that in some ways we can replicate certain moments.) You cannot replicate a birth. It is a stand-alone moment that will never happen again. You can remember it; you can tell others about it, but you know that it is not going to happen again. There will never be another singular moment when you meet your baby for the first time, and realizing that in the postpartum days is a little rough.

2. In the postpartum days, I want things done NOW. This mostly causes friction with my husband and me. He doesn't understand why something must be done RIGHT NOW when it could be done tomorrow morning. But for me, there's some kind of all-consuming urgency about needing to fold the laundry right this minute, or empty the dishwasher, or put the baby swing together. I don't know what the urgency is about. I guess it's some sort of lizard-brain drive to make sure that everything is ready for my baby, so that no matter what she needs, it will be available.

3. I worry about giving my other children enough attention, while simultaneously being frustrated by their loudness, roughness, and into-everything-ness. I love snuggling the two-year-old, and I miss snuggle time with her. The four-year-old is already a handful, but even more so when there isn't as much attention to give him directly. And the baby just looks so tiny in contrast to these giant children stomping around my house!

I think this is enough for now. The realization of why I'm so nostalgic for the birth-day of the baby was helpful for me, as I've always dealt with this in the immediacy of the postpartum days and I haven't always known what to do or why I feel that way. I remember with Jack (4yo), I actually wept over the loss of feeling him move around my belly during pregnancy, even though of course I was so glad to actually have him OUT, and with me in person, and I had longed for his presence intensely all during the pregnancy. I suppose there is a certain grief that we go through as moms as we get used to having the baby with us instead of inside of us, and it takes time (and some hormones adjusting) to realize that we are so grateful that they're here instead of inside. I mean, seriously, we don't want to put them back in the belly!

If you've read this, thank you, and any feedback you have or anything you'd want to share about your own experience of pregnancy and the postpartum period would be helpful. I'm going to attempt to post more often during these days, to get some of these feelings out while they're acute, and before the hormones change and I'll be in a totally different place (which will also be its own blessing.)

you know, you don't have to keep it

2011-06-18T09:45:00.003-04:00

I'm working on decluttering.

With the help from The Non-Consumer Advocate, my own pesky pregnancy hormones, and my desire to get our house sold, if anyone ever wants to buy it, I've been decluttering a good bit lately. Well, I should say, when I have the energy to do it.

Today I think I had a minor breakthrough. I was looking at this fruit dish that we had gotten as a wedding gift (7 years ago), which we have used on the table often, but which has mostly bothered me, because it's very hard to keep spotless. I guess you'd call it stainless steel, but it is really really shiny, or it's supposed to be. Let's just say we have trouble keeping it looking nice, even though it is useful for fruit. But with two small children, other things often end up in there. Duck sauce from nights of Chinese take-out, small stones and twigs that Jack has collected (including his "favorite rock," as he declared a few days ago), random halves of granola bars and other disgusting cast-offs. So, the fruit dish thing is not really working for us.

I was looking at it today, in the midst of cleaning with my Cleaning Angel, and I was wondering how to make it better. And then I had an original thought, maybe a thought I've never had before: "You know, you don't have to keep it."

It was, for me, a bit of a burst of lightning. And so I wiped it off and tossed it in a bag with other items that are on their way to the Goodwill. And I hope I have that thought a lot more often from here on out.

some ramblings on what is required

2011-05-12T09:44:00.000-04:00

I was doing some writing (on the extraordinarily helpful 750 words site) this morning, and ended up writing about what we do and do not HAVE to do in our lives.

Right now, we're getting ready to put our house on the market, with the impending arrival of our third baby in September (or August) -- it seems as though we are all on top of each other in this house.

However, I have learned that a family who lived in the house "way back when" raised 5 girls (!) with, yes, 2 parents, in the very same house where the four of us are currently squished. (And yes, it's just me and my husband who feel squished; the kids could care less.)

So, here are some ramblings on anxiety and what is required...as I looked back over them, I thought perhaps they would be helpful to other people as well...

I'm really trying to remember that everything is fundamentally okay right now. I am healthy, my family is healthy, we have a place to sleep, we have a house which is stable and warm and dry and secure, we have enough resources to get what we need in terms of food and clothing and sustenance. There is anxiety about the house, in terms of selling it, and there is anxiety about moving, and where we would go and how we would afford it if we can sell the house fairly quickly, but those things do not make or break us, and they are not even required. They are optional. We don't HAVE to sell the house. We don't HAVE to accept an offer that someone makes. If we get a super-quick offer, we can always decline it, I guess, and take the house off the market, although we might have some people mad at us.

The only things we HAVE to do are take care of one another and survive each day. We don't HAVE to spend lots of money on things that don't matter. We don't HAVE to have a bigger house -- it might feel cramped where we are at times, but we can make it work. We don't HAVE to have our house in decorator-style fashion, where it looks like a million bucks and is ready to show to people. We can just have it the way we live in it, and we can relax about it. We don't HAVE to paint things and get rid of the mold [yes, we have extraordinarily ucky mold in the basement, blech], but even if we stay, those things will be a good idea (definitely the mold...why didn't we address that like, three years ago?) We don't HAVE to redo the fence but it will look nicer if/when we do. We don't HAVE to mow the lawn, but it's such a clean, fresh feeling when the grass is not insanely long and scraggly. All these things are optional, though, and I need to keep reminding myself of that. Basically, what I am required to do is to care for my children, to try to take care of myself and be healthy, and to be the pastor of this congregation. Even with that, there are only so many things that are actually essential. I need to stay connected with people, and stay in contact with them about how things are going in their lives. I need to touch base with our friends at home to make sure they know they are loved and thought of by the congregation and by me. I need to prepare sermons that help to impart some kind of wisdom, or at least provoke thought. I need to let people know I am thinking of them when I am thinking of them! But there is not all that much that I HAVE to do in my life. So I can calm down with some anxiety about all of the "have-to's" that seem to dominate my thoughts...there is only a very small amount that actually HAS to be done in the great, grand scheme of things. The rest is just extra, and I can relax. Right?

Good Friday Homily - Last of the 7 Last Words of Christ

2011-04-19T16:14:00.001-04:00

Hello, anyone and everyone. I have never participated in a 7 Last Words of Christ service before, and so I am not sure what the meditations are normally like. Here is my first draft of my thoughts for Friday evening, and my portion for the 7 Last Words is, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit."

If you care to leave feedback, I would really appreciate it! I am worried that I am not ending the service on a "dark" enough note...what do you think?

Sometimes my children seem so trusting of me that it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart when they are walking toward me and trip over something on the floor (yes, almost always the case in our house -- a toy, a book, a stuffed animal) and they fall, on their way to me, while I am sitting there with my arms open. How could I have failed to catch them? It breaks my heart when we are looking forward to doing something, and then for whatever reason, our plans must change, and I see real tears, not just crocodile tears, but real tears, pouring from their eyes and I have to explain to them that we’ll need to do something other than we had planned. It breaks my hearts when we are running late and I am stressed and I turn from “fun, engaged mommy” into “stressed, short, snapping mommy” and can see the distress on their faces. In all three of those examples, we could say, “Well, that’s life, get used to it,” but as the parent, the one somehow put in charge through biology of protecting them and modeling responses for them and educating them, it breaks my heart.

And it especially breaks my heart, though I guess in a good way, if you can say that about a broken heart, to see them go right back and trust me again. To see them pick themselves up off the floor and come rushing into my arms to be comforted, because even though I’m the one who “allowed” them to fall, I’m also the one who comforts. To see them look forward to the next outing I offer them, because even though I’m the one who had to break the news about the cancelled event, I’m also the one they count on to provide something new. To see them try to engage me, or laugh when I attempt to be funny, or tell me the answer when I ask them something about their day, even though I was the one who, a few moments ago, was distant, or distracted, or short with them, because even though I temporarily withdrew my attention from them, as soon as I can give it back again, they crave it and lap it up like cats drinking milk.

This is what children do, and do over and over again, at least assuming that for the most part the parents in the equation are mostly nurturing and provide some degree of love and warmth. Actually, children will even return again and again to parents who mostly fail to provide nurture and support and warmth, again because of that parent-child bond and love. It is in extreme cases that there is a true severance in the relationship, that there really is no further interaction or care.

And since all of us are children, even if we are not parents, we know what this might be like, to run to our parents for comfort, for support, for healing, in the worst moments of our lives, when we feel most vulnerable and as though the rest of the world has turned on us.

Perhaps this puts us in the right frame of mind to hear these last words from Jesus, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Jesus’ final breath brings into play this parent-child relationship, the beyond-theological relationship, the ultimate trusting relationship.

The famous Scottish theologian, Dr. William Barclay, writes, "Jesus died with a prayer on his lips. `Father, into your hands I [commend] my spirit.' That is Psalm 31:5 with one word added-- Father. That verse was the prayer every Jewish mother taught her child to say last thing at night. Just as we were taught, maybe, to say, `Now I lay me down to sleep,' so the Jewish mother taught her child to say, before the threatening dark came down, `Into your hands I commit my spirit.' Jesus made it even more intimate, for he began it with the word Father. Even on the cross Jesus died like a child falling asleep in his father's arms."

Whatever our theological beliefs about Jesus’ crucifixion, the how’s and why’s of it, God’s involvement in it or distance from it, Jesus assures us in his dying breath that he trusts his father completely, in life and now in death.

In one of our funeral prayers, we say the words, “For whether we live or whether we die, we belong to Christ who is Lord both of the dead and of the living.” Jesus asserts the truth of this in his belonging to his Father even upon his death.

What wondrous love it this: to know that Christ is our Lord, to know that God is also our Father, and that even in our dying, we will be received into God’s loving arms. For this trust and this freedom Christ came to us, died to save us, and goes before us. In his loving name, Amen.

new song I like

2011-04-05T13:15:00.002-04:00

This past weekend I was blessed (I don't like to say that phrase too much, but it truly was a blessing to me) to be with our confirmation class at a retreat at our conference's church camp and learned about this song during our closing worship. I never heard of the artist before and it was the first time I'd heard the song, and now I can't stop listening to it. Here you go:

the gift of grace

2011-03-09T16:50:00.003-05:00

I'm going to confess. I'm going to confess in a way that could leave me open to serious, flaming criticism and definitely judgment. I'm going to confess that I almost broke the law. But I'm going to confess how grace appeared in abundance, and how feeling like the eyes of my congregation could be upon me during a difficult moment was a blessing which held me accountable.

I went to visit a parishioner at our local hospital today. The parking spots there are notoriously tight. Often you will see a car taking up two spots. I often wonder if it's out of selfishness or if the poor person honestly couldn't fit their car into a single spot. The spots leave that kind of room for ambiguity.

Anyway, you probably know what is coming. I was pulling into a spot, listening to a Tell Me More podcast, not really thinking about spacial relations, and Boom! I knocked right into the car next to me. Immediately I felt that cold/burny/hot feeling rush through my body, and I said out loud, "Oh my God!" which I think immediately was both curse and prayer.

I jumped out of the car to see what damage had been done. There was barely a mark on the other person's car, which I quickly noticed was a beat-up VW Jetta. Then I looked at the front of my van and there was quite a tell-tale patch of scratchy smeared paint, the kind that says, "You hit something/someone, didn't you?"

I got back into my car and got out my business cards, ready to write a note and ask the person to call me. And then the thoughts came (this is the confessional part, REALLY confessional):

1. What if the person uses this incident to try to get me to pay for all of the work the car needs? (I mean, seriously, it was missing parts, it was kind of a mess.)

2. Did anybody see me do it? Meaning, could I drive away and park at another spot and pretend the whole thing never happened, or is there someone writing down my license plate number as we speak, ready to report me for a hit-and-run? (Definitely this is the most shameful confession.)

3. That last thought was quickly followed by thoughts about the scriptures for this upcoming first Sunday in Lent: Jesus' temptation in the wilderness. I was sure that if I drove away, I would be falling prey to some very bad temptation. How could I stand up and preach about this, knowing what I had done?

4. Looking around more for anyone who may have seen me. Was anyone standing right behind my van, watching to see what I would do, cell phone camera at the ready? (Yes, I thought this many, many times. I am fairly sure I am due some sort of penance for all the times I thought this.)

5. Who's that guy? Oh my gosh, the guy who drives that car is coming here!

And he was. I was never more grateful to see someone who could cost me a lot of money.

First I noticed that he had to go to the passenger side to even open the car (seriously, I'm telling you, it was a beater.) And then I jumped out:

"Sir! Sir! I am so glad to see you. I have to tell you, when I was pulling into my spot, I hit your car." I pointed out where the damage had been done on his car.

He looked at my car and gasped, "Oh no, look at YOUR car!" At first I thought he was mocking me, but he was really serious, upset on my behalf that the damage done to the bumper of my van was more noticeable that what had happened to his car.

He shook his head, "You think I care about a little bump to this beater? Look at it! Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?" I gasped. I kind of babbled for a moment about getting back in my car and sitting there thinking about what I should do and being about ready to put my business card in his windshield wiper (which I was seriously thinking about, along with all the other naughty thoughts about how to get out of any liability for this situation.)

"I'm sure, don't worry about it," he said, as he was getting in the car.

"Thank you so much!" I gushed, and made Namaste hands at him, not sure what else to do and pretty certain that he didn't want me to hug him.

He drove away, I went back in my car to lock up, and I went in and visited my parishioner, grateful for the gift of this generous angel--not someone who would try to exploit what had happened to get his beater restored to glory, but someone who probably didn't care a lick about the car; it was just to get him from point A to point B. And someone who gave me both the opportunity to do the right thing, and who gave me a whole lot of grace. Thanks be to God.

reverb 10: december 26 - soul food

2010-12-26T17:24:00.002-05:00

reverb 10

December 26

Soul Food: What did you eat this year that you will never forget? What went into your mouth & touched your soul?

As I write this, I can smell the coq au vin cooking downstairs. My husband is using his new Wusthof knives that were a gift from my mother--side note: yikes! now I know how much she spent on him!--along with his new cast iron Dutch oven (not Le Creuset, but that may still be to come). My husband loves to cook, and everything he makes is delectable.

That being said, there have been times when we've eaten something amazing that he hasn't cooked, and it has been amazing because there hasn't been the shuffling of children while he's cooking, and the rush to eat at a decent hour, and the awareness that the kitchen still needs scrubbed down. Some of our best meals last year include dinner at the Circular Dining Room at the Hotel Hershey:

And just recently we had a yummy fondue dinner at The Melting Pot in Towson, MD.

Who knew that they had a cookbook? I would love to make their classic cheese fondue...sooooo yummy!

I find that more and more I am trying to make choices that involve real, whole foods, less processed foods, less food on-the-go. It's still hard and I still grab fast food more than I want to admit, but I can see the it's not the fast-food meals that are enjoyable, but the ones that are homecooked or whole foods prepared by someone else and enjoyed with my husband. I realize even as I write this that it was certainly one of the things that we bonded on early on--our love of "fine dining." It has cost us a pretty penny over the years, but I don't think we've had any regrets about it.

reverb 10: december 25 - photo: a present to myself

2010-12-25T06:28:00.003-05:00

reverb 10

December 25

Photo - a present to yourself: Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you.

I suppose that I am going to cheat a bit because this photo is of my whole family, but I love it. It was taken as part of a family photo shoot including my sister-in-law and her doggie, and my brother-in-law and his wife and their son, for my mother-in-law (the great unveiling will be today when she receives a photo collage of the best shots!). It's a beautiful fall setting, we had a photographer who had done "belly pics" of me and some family shots when I was pregnant with Irene...so all of that is not particularly remarkable, but the best part is the way that we're all interacting together. I feel like this picture really captures who we are as a family at our best. Yes, I know that I need to be self-differentiated and all that, but having a unified family is one of the biggest gifts of my life right now, and I want to celebrate it!

reverb 10: december 24 - everything's ok

2010-12-24T08:21:00.003-05:00

reverb 10

December 24

Everything's OK: What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?

I have these moments here and there and I really love them. I think the best one can probably be described in this blog post from last summer.

Just the juxtaposition of what I deal with on a daily basis--seeing the aged who have lived through so much; dealing with people who are truly in crisis, yet will also make it; talking with people who help to remind me (sometimes abruptly, sometimes very subtly) that I am still quite young and some things will fall into place more easily than I think at this point in my life--all of these things help me to feel as though it is okay.

I think the one moment when this really his me in 2010 was right after Easter last year when I volunteered to provide devotions each Monday morning in April at the nearest UCC retirement community. I would rush up there to be there in time, and was late a few times, which was no big deal. And then as I would go around and visit after devotions, I would get this sense that time was fluid, that there was so much that we rush to do that is unimportant, that these folks who are in assisted living, or in the dementia wing, or in the more independent retirement-community-ish section, have lived so long, and contain within them so much wisdom and experience, and they know how to put things in their proper perspective.

(Now, to be fair, of course this is a bit romanticized; there are those who feel they have been "put in a home" by family who doesn't want to care for them at home, or who are unable to; there are those who truly are on the outer edges of dementia and don't know where they are or who they are and who are quite violent; there are those who are rude to the staff and who complain about everything, just as they have done their who lives; there are those who are rude to the staff and who complain about everything because they're hurting so deeply because they've outlived their siblings and their spouses and even their children...I don't want you to read this and think that I don't get that. I think that on the particular day I'm writing about, at least for me, I was able to see the blessings that come from being around a place where people have a lot of life experience and can see that the fact that you're stressing out about whether or not you have time to get an oil change that day will or will not really be a big deal. That is all.)

2010-12-23T09:41:00.002-05:00

reverb 10

December 23

New name: Let's meet again, for the first time. If you could introduce yourself to strangers by another name for just one day, what would it be and why?

Honestly, I love my name. I wouldn't change it. This one is quick. I really like the name Sarah; in fact if it weren't my name, I'd probably have chosen it for my daughter, but I'm not keen on have a Sarah, Jr., so she was spared that fate.

reverb 10: december 22 - travel

2010-12-22T15:42:00.002-05:00

reverb 10

December 22

Travel: How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year?

I actually traveled more in 2010 than I have in several years. In fact, probably in 5 years!

The last trip I had taken before 2010 was to Ghana in 2005 for my Cross-Cultural assignment in seminary.

This year I went to Cleveland to the National Office of the UCC for a gathering in May, and then in June I went to Chicago to the 2030 Clergy Gathering. Two flights about a month apart from each other! I felt like such a jet-setter :)

It's so interesting to me that once I settled into a full-time call, I was presented with so many opportunities for travel and conferences and networking events. You actually reach a point where it just can't be done anymore, or else you might have a mutiny on your hands at the church you have actually been called to serve!

I hadn't traveled for 5 years because a year after returning from Ghana (approximately), in 2006, the week after Valentine's Day, we found out we were expecting my son, Jack, and then I was working in a corporate position until he was born.

Then I was a part-time assistant pastor/part-time church secretary for a while, and just didn't have the opportunity or expense account to do any traveling or conference-attending, though I think I might have still had the chance to sneak to some local continuing ed kinds of things.

Then in May 2008 we found out that Irene would be joining us in January 2009, so there was another limit on traveling (beyond beach vacations, but that's by car.)

So, finally, the travel options have opened up. In 2011, I expect to attend General Synod in Tampa, Florida, and who knows what else? To be honest, I don't mind flying, but I'm glad I don't have to do it all the time. You just have to give up so much control, and you're at the mercy of the weather, security, engine problems, etc etc etc. It doesn't bother me to mostly keep my feet on the ground. :)

reverb 10: december 21 - future self

2010-12-21T13:03:00.002-05:00

reverb 10

December 21

Future Self: Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead? (Bonus: Write a note to yourself 10 years ago. What would you tell your younger self?)

Ummm, do not like.

Just going to report in on this one today. To be really real about it and some things that I hope might change for me in the next five years, as well as to address how I was behaving ten years ago (mind you, I was 18 and following the Homer Simpson rules for college--"There's a time and a place for everything, and it's called college"), I am going to take this prompt to 750 words and work on it there.

See you tomorrow!

reverb 10: december 19 - healing

2010-12-20T06:37:00.002-05:00

reverb 10

December 19

Healing: What healed you this year? Was it sudden, or a drip-by-drip evolution? How would you like to be healed in 2011?

This is my chance to gush about my therapist. She is a spiritual director/therapist/clergy coach, and I love her to pieces.

I called a clergy colleague right around Easter 2010 (how kind of me, no?) to ask her if she would have any interest in getting together and being sort of like CPE classmates for one another. Suffice it to say that in our conversation, I saw that this request was a bit overtaxing for her and that it wouldn't work, BUT she gave me a wonderful referral to the woman who is my current therapist.

Speaking of manifesting, if I may go there, it was sort of an uncanny thing, because in my mind I kept thinking, I need a new therapist, but I want/need a referral. I didn't just want to go to someone who I didn't know from Adam. I had done that before and it didn't go well (I mean, it wasn't horrible, but we definitely didn't connect.) After her, I went to a person who was referred by a friend, and she was wonderful to me in the year after my daughter was born, just helping me to reframe and stay positive, but she was also sort of meeting with me out of the goodness of her heart, and it was often difficult to schedule because she was a grandmother and had many family priorities. So when I was told about this current person, I thought I'd follow that lead because I had been praying for a referral, and it was a wonderful gift.

The biggest thing that she has done that has been helpful for me is to normalize some of the ways in which I tend to think that I am off-the-wall. She has helped me to understand why I think the way I do in certain settings, because of birth order, because of upbringing, because of the way I think. She helps to put things in perspective for me, and helps to alternately redirect me and affirm me as needed. She is definitely one of the most healing forces in my life right now, and has been since this past spring.

reverb 10: december 20 - beyond avoidance

2010-12-20T06:28:00.002-05:00

reverb 10

December 20

Beyond Avoidance: What should you have done this year but didn’t because you were too scared, worried, unsure, busy or otherwise deterred from doing? (Bonus: Will you do it?)

Well, the first thing I should have done this year is to get even more on top of finances. I like to pretend that I am rich, which, as a pastor, is not the case. I am realizing I have an affinity for shopping and for buying things, perhaps because, in most cases, I am a little bit bored. I enjoy deciding what to buy, researching where I will get the best price, comparing online, etc etc. This is not a good way to spend my time, and certainly is not ushering in the Kingdom, plus it is depleting my pocketbook and derailing our family goal of saving to buy a different house. I need to track expenses, to be more mindful of how I am spending (this is probably the top point), and to stop bringing junk into my home that I don't need or truly desire to have in the house.

Another thing that I'll just put out there because perhaps if it goes a little bit public it will help continue to spur me on toward the goal: I have been thinking more and more and more about going through a program to become certified to do practical counseling or marriage & family therapy. Not sure if I prefer to go through a full course of study for another Master's in something like Pastoral Counseling, or if I want to do a program specifically designed for pastors to get my MFT, but I think more and more about it these days. I audited a course at Lancaster Theological Seminary this fall called Ministry with Couples and Families and I really enjoyed it, especially learning more about systems thinking. So, at this point, I am not entirely sure how I would work it into my schedule, but for one thing, it may cure that boredom concern from the financial discussion above!

reverb 10: december 10 - wisdom

2010-12-17T15:12:00.002-05:00

reverb 10

December 10

Wisdom: What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?

Can we just listen to the Vengabus song again? I am brain-fried. That is why I get so far behind with these prompts...or why it would be better to do them one-a-day the way they are intended instead of trying to catch up like this. BUT, I said that I wouldn't harp on the fact that I get behind, so, onward and upward...

I think I have to honestly answer this one and say that I cannot think of ONE wise decision for this year, but I think that I have made lots of little wise decisions that keep me on the right path day in and day out (and then sometimes I stray, but blessedly find my way back again, for the most part).

I try to slow down, to be well-differentiated, to think of the long view instead of the immediate-gratification path. I try to be patient and to be strategic instead of impulsive. I try to be quiet instead of jumping in (especially thinking of church council meetings and other church gatherings for that one.) I try to err on the side of love and kindness and being gracious instead of telling other people when they are wrong and making nit-picky corrections, unless it really is needed. I try to love other people even when they are crotchety and cantankerous. I try to put kindness out into the world when all I want to do is scream and give people the finger.

I think all of those things are wise...

reverb 10: december 17 - lesson learned

2010-12-17T14:44:00.002-05:00

reverb 10

December 17

Lesson learned: What was the best thing you learned about yourself this past year? And how will you apply that lesson going forward?

Hmmm...the best thing? I feel like I have had some important realizations that will hopefully help me to be more mindful of some of my traits and habits and work to change some things and do more of other things. I don't know that any of them count as best, but here goes:

1. When it comes to finances, if I am not threatened or faced with severe deadlines, I am a giant slacker, and it is a problem. -- Working to practice financial responsibility without threats!

2. I was raised to believe that because I was smart/bright/innately intelligent, if I had to work too hard for something, I had already failed. This is a bummer because a) it gave me a sort of elite, looking-down-my-nose-at-hard-studiers kind of sensibility and b) it didn't train me how to work hard for things that don't come easily to me, but which are still necessary and/or worthwhile. I remember my parents saying things like, "Oh, so-and-so is book smart, but you are smart." That sounded like a compliment at the time, but now I wish they wouldn't have said it.

3. I learned that sometimes, because I was smart and capable, I felt as though I was left to do things on my own, and that made me feel lonely. It also made me feel as though if I asked for help or even wanted help, I was somehow less-than. I am learning that sometimes I just want to work as part of a team, whether I need to or not. This is also an important parenting lesson, because I see it in my son. Sometimes he pretends he can't do something so that I will accompany him while we do it together, and I want him to both know that he is capable and doesn't need me to hold his hand all the time, as well as to learn that I will not abandon him and leave him lonely if he can do something without my help.

Those are some pretty big realizations, huh? I hope that some of the putting-into-practice will help me to have an even better 2011, with even more realizations, than 2010 with some of its already-profound realizations!

reverb 10: december 9: party

2010-12-14T13:52:00.002-05:00

reverb 10

December 9

Party: What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.

I honestly do not remember a party from this last year; perhaps I can just say that there have been fun get-togethers on a smaller scale with other couples? Is that sufficient?

But I have to leave you with this, because every time I think about this prompt, this is all I can come up with:

reverb 10: december 8: beautifully different

2010-12-14T13:23:00.002-05:00

In the spirit of catching up, here is a response to the prompt from December 8.

Beautifully Different: Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.

Maybe the full spectrum of the reflection on this prompt can be something I can revisit at a later time -- ALL the things that make me different seem like they could take forever, although I know that I am not *that* different from other people in the Universe.

What came to mind when I read this, especially in answering the question "what you do that lights people up" is that I truly try to see each person as an individual, and think about the way that they are each a unique Child of God, and what that means for them. There are theories, of course, in systems thinking, and in premarital counseling, and in bereavement work, etc etc, but when it comes down to it, everything is on a case-by-case basis when you're dealing with human beings, is it not?

I feel like the times in my ministry when I've been most challenged have been when I've been trying to decide what to do in a given circumstance where I wish there were just a blanket rule that I could follow, but these have also been the times when I have had to dig deep, in terms of following my intuition, drawing on my training, praying deeply to God for help, and relying on the wisdom of the people themselves to tell me what to do.

This is the way that I feel I am beautifully different, in my ministry and as an ordinary human being.

reverb 10: december 14: aka, I lied

2010-12-14T11:50:00.002-05:00

Okay. Today is the last day I will start a post with a comment about how I will do better or what my plan is to stop missing days or catching up or blah blah blah. We can all see that apparently I am scattered. Ah, tis the season. But I will do what I can, and go from there!

reverb 10

December 14

Appreciate: What’s the one thing you have come to appreciate most in the past year? How do you express gratitude for it?

The thing that I came to appreciate most in the past year is the wisdom of the aged, and the stories I'm hearing from "a simpler time."

Now, that is not to be confused with telling you that these things are quaint. On the contrary, I want to defend these encounters from quaintness. I find myself really chafing lately when I talk about some of the blessings of my ministry that I encounter especially because people will say, "Oh, that's what you experience at a 'little country church' in your first call." It bothers me when there is this sense that I am only dealing with relics, and not with something that is still real and true today.

The people that I sit with, who tell me about "how things used to be" at time wear me thin, with their constant questioning of the digital age and technology and "how you young people do things these days," but at the same time, they help me to slow down.

I am having trouble being articulate right now about all the ways that I think this "small church/country" mentality is still worthwhile, but suffice it to say for this post that it is the thing I am appreciating most this year.

I continue to struggle with people who tell me things like, "This is just your first call," or to categorize "country church ministry" as something that pastors do right out of seminary before they move to the "big church" in the suburbs or the city. I think that this ministry is just fine, and I am determined to at least stay for the duration of the time I feel God has called me here -- whether that is 2 more years or 5 more years or 10 more years!

Oh, and speaking of that, as a footnote (not that you can footnote the Holy Spirit), I also want to say that my belief in the Holy Spirit has also been stoked this year, and that I truly believe that if we are tuned into the Holy Spirit, we can do anything, and God will be with us, watching and guiding us.

reverb 10: day 11, real time

2010-12-11T20:20:00.004-05:00

Okay, new strategy. I am going to try to do at least the post of the day for reverb 10, and I will go back and pick up missed prompts as I am able. So, here is the one that is actually for today, December 11, 2010.

reverb 10

December 11

11 Things: What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?

Oh, yikes. Let me think. These will probably be alternately silly and profound...well, hopefully profound. Perhaps not profound...let's see...

1. Financial Irresponsibility. Really working on this one. Right now I'm reading the book Your Money or Your Life and finding it really helpful.

2. Excess Material Stuff. This goes right along with #1. Need to continue to declutter physical objects and not buy things just for the heck of it. Trying to consume less, simply be, and live, more.

3. Yelling at my kids. Ugh, I do not like to be a yeller. Sometimes my son just pushes me over the edge! My mother used to curse me when I was a child (by the way, I remember seeing the book The Strong-Willed Child on her bookshelf and thinking, "Why does she need to read that?" Ha!) and she would say to me, "One day I hope you have a little girl just like you!" Well, I think my little girl has a strong will but is also a bit more docile, but Jackson...whooo boy, he is me in a little physical boy body, and he knows how to push my buttons! Working on staying level with me and remembering that he is 4, and he does not control the universe.

4. Negative self-talk. Did you know that there is actual scientific evidence that what previously we thought of a "new-agey" affirmations actually build new pathways in our brains? I think this website is one that gives some scientific info about it. It's Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. So, I am going to continue to try to replace negative self-talk with positive stuff, and hope that it helps to heal me and to direct my life in positive ways!

I'm kind of off-topic from THINGS here, aren't I...let's get back to basics...

5. The leather skirt from the Gap that I bought about 7 years ago. I really need to let it go, even though I think I either wore it once or not at all. I would like to wear it again, but it is simply not my size...

6. Crap from the basement. I have a wonderful "cleaning lady" -- I prefer to call her my cleaning personal trainer, because I usually work alongside her -- and we have decluttered many areas of my house, but we haven't yet tackled the ucky basement. Perhaps that will be in our future for 2011...

7. Junk on the side porch. Why is that a collection area for random yuck that doesn't have another home? We have an outdoor shed, so if there are things that belong in there, they should go in there. If they don't belong there, they should go in the garbage!

8. Credit card debt. I have made myself an "aggressive debt elimination plan" and if I may a nominal amount each month to eliminate some balances on smaller cards, I will be credit-card-debt-free by April 2012. This also assumes that I stop USING the cards, or that if I use them, I pay them off in full each month when I make new purchases. This is a serious goal, and I think I will feel much freer without credit card bills to pay each month. This also ties in with accumulating less material objects.

9. Collections of catalogs. Yes, there is something about looking at catalogs in physical form rather than shopping online, but seriously, how many catalogs does one need? I accumulate piles within a week's time...ridiculous! Plus, it feeds into the consumerism and materialism as I gaze longingly at the objects within the pages of said catalogs...better to be out of sight, out of mind.

10. Crap in my purse. I have so much junk in my purse, and yet even when I go places, I often leave the purse in the car and just take my wallet into a restaurant or store, especially when I'm pushing the stroller. So why do I haul so much junk around in my purse? I honestly don't know...I guess so it's there whenever I decide that I *do* need it, which is who-knows-when...

11. Man, this already seems like a lot to get rid of. Not that any of it is painful, but I guess since I did groupings of stuff and crap and whatnot, it's more categorical than it is just single items. Anyway, I think the final thing is to streamline my Netflix subscription. I currently have the unlimited 3-a-month, but I regret to confess that I just sent something back last week that I'd had since January 2010. I like not having late fees, but why am I also paying $20 a month to hold onto something for 11 months? Ridiculous! I need to maybe move to the one-a-month plan, so that when I really want something, it forces me to send the previous DVD back. That or use the Blockbuster or Redbox boxes that are all over the place in our town.

So, voila! At least I have one post done on the appropriate day...perhaps a goal of this week will be to catch up and STAY caught up!

reverb 10: day seven

2010-12-10T20:21:00.002-05:00

Catching up, once again:

reverb 10

December 7

Community: Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?

I really love my twitter community. Well, I shouldn't call them mine, my tweeps, that is, but I love that I have a community of pastors at the ready for questions that I can just throw out there, and within minutes have an extensive discussion going.

It's easy than keeping up with blog rings, though I tremendously adore RevGalBlogPals and would like to set a goal of posting there most during 2011.

One amazing thing about the interwebs is the way that everything intersects. Friends I've met on Twitter have become friends on Facebook, and friends I've met on RevGalBlogPals have become friends on Twitter and Facebook, and round and round it goes.

In person, I'm grateful for the community I've found with a few good friends this year, and the ways in which I have "guarded my fences," as my therapist would say, and withdrawn from community that wasn't nurturing me, even among pastors (imagine that!).

Looking so forward to continuing the Twitter community into 2011, and beyond!

if you don't read anything else today, read this!

2010-12-06T17:33:00.002-05:00

I know I am getting annoying if you are my friend on Facebook AND on Twitter AND you read my blog, but I was catching up on my reader today and I read this and you should read it, too.

reverb 10: day six: make (AKA I love my Keurig!)

2010-12-06T17:08:00.003-05:00

reverb 10

December 6
Make: What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

Okay, I'm going to take this very literally: the last thing that I made was a cup of Keurig coffee.
And I love my Keurig. My husband calls it "each-man-for-himself" coffee (which he says very pejoratively.) However, it is wonderful thing. We have one at church and we have one, now, at home (we also have a 10-cup maker...we are definitely a coffee-drinking couple.)

Anyway, I am not (most certainly not!) being paid by Keurig to write this, but I confess that I take any opportunity to gush about Keurig, and I also don't make very much stuff, so this is my chance to tell you what I do make.

Now, to be real. I would love, love, LOVE to get back into knitting again. But I would also like to read lots and lots of books that I haven't read that are on my shelf. I would like to knit a scarf, or something wonderful, or something that I can show off on this blog, even if it's a travel mug cozy for my Starbucks.

But I don't know when I will get to do any of this, because, alas, I have two small and active children. And they are a handful. And my son demands every ounce of attention until he falls asleep at night, which is not early enough for me to keep my peepers open after he finally crashes. So I read about a page or two of one of the many books on my pile, and then I read with one eye, and then I read with no eyes. And so I certainly don't think knitting will make a reappearance in my life any time soon. But a girl can dream....

reverb 10: day five

2010-12-06T16:58:00.002-05:00

reverb 10

December 5

Let Go: What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?

I think this was a formational year for me in letting go of ideas of parish ministry and learning more about what it is really like. Letting go of any desire to be the "ruler" of the church -- a desire that I barely knew existed, but which reared its ugly head at times when my own defenses against it were down.

I grew up watching my father be a truly beloved pastor -- until I was in seminary, I didn't even know that there was conflict in churches! Are you kidding me, everybody seemed to worship my dad and by default, our family!

Learning about the real nitty-gritty of ministry has been a process for me, one that I am feeling my way through every day. I came to my call with a desire to serve, not run, the church, but sometimes I need to be more hands-on than hands-off. I came to the call with a desire to listen to the people, but sometimes I'm still disappointed when they don't confide in me about things I learn through other parishioners. I'm learning that the church is the members--the way they support one another, the way they guide and strengthen one another. The church is NOT me...I knew this intellectually before, but I am putting it into practice, and that has involved letting go of some ego needs, letting go of some presumptions, letting go of some desires to come first in the minds of my parishioners.

It sounds so arrogant and haughty even to write about it here, but it is something I'm willing to confess. As humble as I thought I was, sometimes I even used my humility arrogantly, if that makes any sense. Ministering in a rural setting, with folks who have known each other before I was a twinkle in my parents' eye (which is true in most churches, certainly not unique to my situation), has been what has truly humbled me and what continues to teach me what true service in ministry is all about.

reverb 10: day four: wonder

2010-12-06T16:10:00.004-05:00

reverb 10

December 4

Wonder: How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?

This is an interesting question for me. When I think of wonder, I think of God, and when I think of something ongoing pertaining to wonder and to God, I think of the Holy Spirit.

Honestly, I don't know where I'd be in my life or in my ministry these days without a firm belief in the Holy Spirit and her work. (And yes, to me, she is a distinctly feminine force, to the point that when I see hymns that talk about the Spirit and call it "him," I think, "Who are they talking about?")

I love the days where I feel a sense of wonder--I strive for it to be every day. I love to get goosebumps when someone tells me an almost unbelievable story that can only be true if I believe in the Holy Spirit and the mystery of God.

I have learned more about wonder since becoming a pastor but also since becoming a mother. I try not to rush past the wonder that my children share with me when they see something that, to me, is ordinary, but to them is extraordinary.

Whether it's a train for my son (a real, live, moving and chugging and whistling train!) or the cat and her soft fur for my daughter, these everyday objects are where the wonder is. Isn't that the truth for those of us who are "grown-ups" as well? I believe that the more we cultivate wonder in the ordinary, the more it finds us, in both the ordinary and the extraordinary.

(Photo attribution: http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj245/shekinaspeaks/Invocation3.jpg)

reverb 10: day three on day four

2010-12-04T08:49:00.004-05:00

I am fairly certain that this month will go this way: that I will not get all of my prompts done on their appropriate days. But I will try to at least accomplish a response to each prompt at some point in the month.

Another side note: there is a question on the reverb 10 site that asks via Twitter:

"What's your creativity environment like for responding to #reverb10 prompts?
Do you listen to music? Is it quiet? Are you alone?"

I had to almost snort when I read this, since right now I am preparing to do this blog post with two children rolling around on the floor next to me, repeating each other saying "Ouchie, ouchie." And this while watching the Spiderman movie, which of course is not age-appropriate but which Jack now loves, thanks to my dear husband.

So, with all of that being said, time to revisit the prompt from yesterday, Friday, December 3.

reverb 10

December 3

Moment: Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).

The moment that first came to mind was during an intense period of ministry at the beginning of last summer. Beginning with Mother's Day, there was a time where we experienced just about 6 deaths in a row at church. On Mother's Day, an otherwise completely healthy woman had a heart attack, which led to a week-long hospitalization before her death on Friday. That was the first funeral of this particular period of illness, death, and funerals.

Then I had a funeral on the Friday before Father's Day, and on Father's Day another dear soul from the church passed away. Her celebration of life was held on the Wednesday after Father's Day.

It so happened that the week after Father's Day was also our Vacation Bible School week at church, and my particular moment happened the night before the funeral. I came outside the church building with my kids with me, into this beautiful dusky night, and in the field in front of me, the kids were playing kickball. They were laughing and running and having a blast, and many of their parents were watching and coaching and intervening when necessary.

Then I turned my head to the left, and there I saw the grave prepared for our dear soul's interment the next day.

The mix of the images and feelings and sounds: the grave prepared in the cemetery, the kids running and playing in the field, my own children at my side, the song "Untitled Hymn" by Chris Rice running through my head, my sense of call to this congregation and gratitude for being at this place -- all of this makes that particular evening experience my Moment for 2010.

reverb 10: day two

2010-12-02T12:27:00.003-05:00

reverb 10

December 2

Writing: What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?

I goof around online each day. I shop for things I don't need, I research items to buy that I also don't need. I click on links and follow links around and just generally waste time.

I love the website 750 words because it helps me to get writing done with focus and with a goal in mind. However, I make many stops at many links along the way to that site!

I would like to be more self-disciplined and more focused on writing--not for publication or for sermons, but to get words out of my head, to clear my mind, and to improve the general craft of writing for myself.

reverb 10: a day late, but hopefully not a dollar short

2010-12-02T12:18:00.003-05:00

reverb 10

December 1:

One Word: Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?

Settling.

I feel like 2010 has been all about settling in for me. It's not settling as in setting for something; that would have negative implications. But it's a settling in, a grounding of spirit, a maturation that I'm feeling.

I'm continuing to settle into being a wife (after 6 1/2 years, I'm still settling!),

a mother (Jack just turned 4 at the end of October and I'm still getting used to parenting him and also Irene, who will be 2 in January),

a pastor (getting closer now to that 18th-month-mark at church, starting to do things for the second time and continuing to build relationships with the people here, hoping that I'll continue to minister in this place for a good while longer),

and settling into being the adult version of me (at 28, almost 29, I'm still working on this and have a long time to continue working on it, but for now, it's good!)

At this point, one year from today, I would like to have my word be similar, perhaps "grounded," or "calm" or "energized." Other attractive words would be "progress" and for me, in 2011, that might take the form of the word "simplify."

May it be so!

for the benefit of humanity

2010-10-14T13:41:00.002-04:00

Here is a letter that I sent to the author of this article
that I read this morning via my friend @grammercie's blog.

I am not nearly an expert on trans issues, but I am learning and growing, I hope, and I was encouraged by Katie to write to the author of the article, and so I did. Here's what I wrote:

Dear Ms. Farrs,

I am writing to express my frustration over the language you chose to use in your article reporting on the body of Stacy Blahnik that was discovered yesterday. The way that you reported on the death of this young woman was scandalous and as though it was nothing more than tabloid fodder. Would you have reported in the same way if you were covering the death of someone's grandmother, or someone's beautiful young son?

Why would you choose to report the death of a HUMAN BEING in the way that you did, as though she was a freak, or an animal of some sort? The quotes you chose to include were offensive and salacious, and had nothing to do with the fact that a person had died.

"Two male neighbors, interviewed separately yesterday, said they would often see strange, white men in nice cars coming and going from the house during the day, when Stacey's boyfriend was at work." -- What does this have to do with anything? This seems to be a blatant case of "blaming the victim" before due process has been followed and an investigation completed.

"One of those men, who asked not to be identified, said "Stacey" was beautiful and could pass for a woman. "She was pretty, but if you didn't know what time it was, you wouldn't know what she was," he said. "She was built . . . and she drew attention from men just walking down the street." -- What does this have to do with anything? Why would you choose to reprint a man saying "you wouldn't know what she was," as though she is anything less than a fully human being?

"She had a body way better than mine, so much so she gave me a complex," Darlene said. -- This has absolutely nothing to do with the topic at hand. Why would you add fuel to the fire of speculation about trans individuals by including a quote like this?

"Whatever she was - transvestite, man, woman - she didn't deserve to die like that," one man said. -- Why would you end the article in this way? You may think that you were being poignant, or sweet in your ending, but this is horrible. Why would you quote an unnamed man, again speculating about "what she was" -- to close an article about a horrific death?

I know way less about trans individuals than some of my friends and colleagues, but as a minister in the United Church of Christ, where all are welcome, I find your article offensive and very rude in the reporting of a death of a fully human, beloved-of-God human being. I hope that you have learned something from the responses I know you have received to your article, and I hope that you will publish anything, whether an editorial, or an educational piece, that will help to make up for the disgusting way you have reported the death of this young woman. It was HER life, it was HER choice to live in the way that felt most comfortable in her skin, to be whomever she felt God had created her to be, whether or not that was a "man" or a "woman" the way society sees it. You have done the public, and the LGBTQ community, a great disservice in the way you reported this article, and I hope you will retract your statements.

cutting room floor 8/7/10

2010-08-07T16:28:00.002-04:00

A short passage that I still like, but that didn't make it into tomorrow's sermon:

This idea that we should rely on God for everything that we need, day by day, without hoarding and trying to store up for ourselves all that we need, is one that we DON’T live by in our culture, and to be honest, I can’t stand up here and tell you not to continue to save for retirement, to invest in your pension, to save for college for your children. We are in a culture in which not doing these things when we have the ability to do them could be seen as foolish.

That being said, I CAN stand up here and tell you that your life is still worthy, that you as a solitary single human being still have value, and that you can still live a good life even if you do not have these things. If something happens to our savings, we do not go “Poof!” and shrivel up and cease to exist. If we are not even able to save, and instead are living hand to mouth or even relying on outside services as a way to get our bread, we are still valuable, fully human, children of God, beloved by God every bit the same as those who are culturally self-sufficient.

reading Friedman, part I

2010-07-13T11:01:00.003-04:00

Finally taking a crack at reading Edwin Friedman's Generation to Generation, and loving it!

Here are some of my favorite quotes, and their associating page numbers:

pp. 2-3 "What is vital to changing any kind of 'family' is not knowledge of technique or even of pathology but, rather, the capacity of the family leader to define his or her own goals and values while trying to maintain a nonanxious presence within the system." (CHURCH!!!!! Yay, I can do it!)

pg. 3 "There is an intrinsic relationship between our capacity to put families together and our ability to put ourselves together."

pg. 7 For pastors when counseling: "to whatever extent we can use our unique access to families to foster emotional healing, we are always at every moment preparing the way for other, more spiritual experiences to come later."

And also, apparently, I would like to be Edwin Friedman (though not necessarily Jewish--nothing against it, of course, but just that I'm not!)

Here is his section on "Author's Experience" on page 7 (exclamation points mine):

"The ideas and examples contained here are based on a quarter century of continuous experience in the Washington, DC, metropolitan area where I have served ever since I was ordained as both congregational rabbi and family therapist (!) with a broadly nonsectarian practice(!). This experience came to include the teaching (!) and supervising of family counselors (!) from all the helping professions, as well as members of the clergy (!) from all the major denominational groups. The latter function has included counseling clergy families (!) with respect to their own problems, and the "coaching" (!) of clergymen and clergywomen with regard to their congregations and their community of faith (!)."

Huh! Who knew! I want to be Friedman!

And, finally, to close this portion of quotes (and, forgive me, there may be many more posts of this regard), Friedman makes a funny!

On page 29, talking about couples who are, so to speak, "stuck together." "In the latter case, their marriage might last 50 years, but their kids are likely to dysfunction all over America...."

Ha!

overwhelmed

2010-06-29T20:04:00.003-04:00

Last week, we celebrated the life of our music director's mother. She was 94, had lived a long and beautiful life, and died peacefully. This song was playing when she took her last breath, and I was asked to sing it at the funeral. For the days leading up, I listened to it nonstop, mostly to try to take the emotion out for myself. It didn't work...there's still a lot of emotion there.

Yesterday, I visited a gentleman who has moved into an assisted living facility. We at church thought that his wife moved there with him, but she's still in a rehab facility across town, in her last days, as he said.

My heart immediately broke when I saw that they weren't in this new place together.

Then he said, "I might be sinning myself, but I really pray for the good Lord to take her. No one should have to suffer like that."

He paused and said, "I know that might be bad, and if the good Lord wants to do something to me," he patted his chest over his heart, "I can take it. But she is the one who is suffering now, and I can't bear to watch her like this."

He told of how they had sold their home, and needed her signature, and he wasn't sure she'd even be able to make an X.

He told of how much he loved the new place, but wished that they could be together.

Then he asked who I was.

"The pastor of Lischey's church," I said.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, and immediately reached out to hug me. "It's so good of you to come."

I was so overwhelmed, I had to hold the tears in till I reached the stairway outside his door.

In one day, I could go from dealing with the mentally ill young man who visits our congregation and mysteriously goes into the bathroom with zucchini, to hearing a heartsick older man lament his wife's suffering.

If this is what God gives me to do with each day of my life, I will be forever grateful.

And overwhelmed.

meditation for music appreciation sunday

2010-05-16T09:33:00.001-04:00

In the middle year of studies, students at Lancaster Theological Seminary participate in a cross-cultural experience, traveling to a location somewhere around the globe to immerse themselves in the culture and the experience of Christianity as it is lived out in that place. For my class’s trip, we went to Ghana, West Africa.

There are many aspects of the trip that are unforgettable to me, but one of the most profound elements of the trip was the use of music in the culture. Music was everywhere: in worship, in daily life, in recreation, in grief.

I won’t soon forget one day when we went on a “field trip” to Wli Falls, where we hiked to beautiful waterfalls and then back to the entrance of the park for a lunch that had been prepared for us. Hungry children with big eyes and salivating mouths stared at us from behind tree trunks until at last our tour guide told us that, yes, it would be okay to share our food with them. They ravenously and gratefully scooped our leftover rice and chicken into their mouths. They might not eat a meal this big again for days. But still, when the drumming began, they danced. Their feet moved in rhythm, they clapped their hands, smiles appearing, the music moving something inside of them that was bigger and more powerful than their rumbling tummies.

In Ghana, at any time of day or night, if you listened closely, you could hear drumming. Drumming far off in the distance, drumming close at hand. The drumming began early, maybe shortly after midnight on Saturdays, as the drums prepared to accompany funeral processions that moved through the various towns and villages. The Ghanaians dance and drum their dead to the grave.

In the midst of worship services, they dance their offerings to the front of the church, drums pounding and voices joined in song. “Life is a struggle,” they sing, and still they dance.

Lillian Daniel, a UCC pastor, writes that “In music, we transcend reality. In music, we imagine a better world.” Certainly, this is what the Ghanaians do when they sing and drum and dance. Ghana is one of the most developed and successful nations in Africa, but the lifestyle is still a far cry from what we experience here. Food is not plentiful, work is hard, water is unclean. But singing and dancing and drumming are transformative.

In one of our anthems for this morning, the Sanctuary Choir will sing, “We are made for praise.” The word “praise” is found 404 times in the Bible, counting mentions in both the Old and New Testaments. The word music is found only 42 times, although words pertaining to music, like singing, and drumming, and playing, are found frequently, adding to the overall mentions of music.

Human beings have been enjoying music since the time of creation. Praise is an innate response from us, especially in response to God and in the midst of a musical celebration. Babies clap their hands almost instinctively when they hear music. Toddlers bouncing along to a beat is one of the most precious sights I’ve ever seen. As we grow older, we turn to music to express deeply the feelings that we have. After an especially bad day, we might turn on a sad song to help us get the tears out. When we are in a great mood, you might find us rocking out behind the wheel on the way home from work. Most of us can name the song we danced to at a wedding, whether with our spouse, or a son or daughter. We can remember the hymns that we chose for funerals of family members. Whether in moments of praise, or lament, or intercession, or thanksgiving, music transports us to a place where words alone cannot take us.

This gift of music is absolutely from God. Just as God is creative, we are given the creative gift of music to enhance our lives, both in our daily routines and in our times of worship. And we can be sure that wherever God is, music is there, too. Thanks be to God for this wonderful gift. Amen.

cool to be cold

2010-05-01T07:43:00.002-04:00

This is the newsletter article I published in our May 2010 newsletter at church. A good outlet for some of my recent concerns about the way folks are interacting with each in the world in general!

Cool to Be Cold?

I have to apologize that I might have a bit of an axe to grind in my article today—not with anyone here at church, that’s for sure, but with the world at large right now.

I’ve been noticing a lack of friendliness lately in the general public; when I’m out and about, I like to be friendly; I like to smile at others and I like to make small talk and have a sense of well-being from being around others.

However, I feel as though lately my smiles are falling on somber faces, my efforts at reaching out are being met with a sideways gaze, and there doesn’t seem to be much reciprocity in the world right now.

I don’t mean to suggest that people must placate me and make me feel better; perhaps I am being too sensitive in my dealings with others. But at the same time, I do believe that there seems to be a general trend of unfriendliness in the world right now.

Some people seem to think that it’s “cool to be cold;” that it’s more attractive to be sullen, to be serious, to refrain from smiling. It’s more stylish to be aloof, to be reserved, to withhold one’s affection and enthusiasm unless you’re sharing it with someone who you know deserves it, someone you know well.

Now, of course, you know this is coming from me, one who could be accused of at least quarterly preaching some sort of sermon with the general theme of “Be Kind to Your Waitress.” I do have a “thing” about kindness and courtesy and generosity.

But as I thought about this thread of coldness lately, I also was reminded of a story that I knew I’d read in Chicken Soup for the Soul a long time ago, and through the magic of the Internet, I was able to dig it up again. It has stuck with me, showing the benefit of a smile, even between soldiers whose countries were at war with each other.

I would love to use the influence I might have with our congregation to encourage you to be friendly, to be kind, to be courteous, especially to those you don’t know. Of course, our friends and loved ones expect it from us, but you never know when you could make someone’s day—someone who is in need of your kindness, your compassion, and perhaps, your smile.

The Smile

Saint-Exupery was a fighter pilot who fought against the Nazis and was killed in action. Before World War II, he fought in the Spanish Civil War against the fascists. He wrote a fascinating story based on that experience entitled The Smile (Le Sourire). It is this story which I'd like to share with you now. It isn't clear whether or not he meant this to be autobiographical or fiction. I choose to believe it is the former.

He said that he was captured by the enemy and thrown into a jail cell. He was sure that from the contemptuous looks and rough treatment he received from his jailers he would be executed the next day. From here, I'll tell the story as I remember it in my own words:

"I was sure that I was to be killed. I became terribly nervous and distraught. I fumbled in my pockets to see if there were any cigarettes which had escaped their search. I found one and because of my shaking hands, I could barely get it to my lips. But I had no matches, they had taken those.

"I looked through the bars at my jailer. He did not make eye contact with me. After all, one does not make eye contact with a thing, a corpse. I called out to him 'Have you got a light, por favor?' He looked at me, shrugged and came over to light my cigarette.

"As he came close and lit the match, his eyes inadvertently locked with mine. At that moment, I smiled. I don't know why I did that. Perhaps it was nervousness, perhaps it was because, when you get very close, one to another, it is very hard not to smile. In any case, I smiled. In that instant, it was as though a spark jumped across the gap between our two hearts, our two human souls.

I know he didn't want to, but my smile leaped through the bars and generated a smile on his lips, too. He lit my cigarette but stayed near, looking at me directly in the eyes and continuing to smile.

"I kept smiling at him, now aware of him as a person and not just a jailer. And his looking at me seemed to have a new dimension, too. 'Do you have kids?' he asked.

"'Yes, here, here.' I took out my wallet and nervously fumbled for the pictures of my family. He, too, took out the pictures of his children and began to talk about his plans and hopes for them. My eyes filled with tears. I said that I feared that I'd never see my family again, never have the chance to see them grow up. Tears came to his eyes, too.

"Suddenly, without another word, he unlocked my cell and silently led me out. Out of the jail, quietly and by back routes, out of the town. There, at the edge of town, he released me. And without another word, he turned back toward the town.

"My life was saved by a smile."

Yes, the smile—the unaffected, unplanned, natural connection between people. I tell this story in my work because I'd like people to consider that underneath all the layers we construct to protect ourselves, our dignity, our titles, our degrees, our status and our need to be seen in certain ways—underneath all that, remains the authentic, essential self. I'm not afraid to call it the soul. I really believe that if that part of you and that part of me could recognize each other, we wouldn't be enemies. We couldn't have hate or envy or fear. I sadly conclude that all those other layers, which we so carefully construct through our lives, distance and insulate us from truly contacting others.

Saint-Exupery's story speaks of that magic moment when two souls recognize each other.

I've had just a few moments like that. Falling in love is one example. And looking at a baby. Why do we smile when we see a baby? Perhaps it's because we see someone without all the defensive layers, someone whose smile for us we know to be fully genuine and without guile. And that baby-soul inside us smiles wistfully in recognition.
~Hanoch McCarty

gratitude instead

2010-04-13T21:10:00.003-04:00

I've been chafing a lot lately when I hear people say that they've been "blessed" to be in the situation they're in, or "blessed" to have a well-behaved child, or "blessed" to have a job that pays 6 figures.

I'm not trying to be difficult, but there's something about this that is getting under my skin lately.

It smacks of this insinuation that those who DON'T have what those folks have are NOT blessed. Those who have miscarried instead of carrying children to term are not blessed; those whose children have behavior disorders or are simply unruly are not blessed; those who have chosen a career or a calling that will never earn them a 6-figure salary are not blessed; those who live in a tiny 2-bedroom apartment instead of a 6-bedroom super-gigundo mansion are not blessed.

Perhaps I exaggerate. But you get the point.

Even with smaller things, like the ability to run a successful grief center (I just visited one yesterday and the director used this "blessed" phrasing), or who get a small promotion, and call themselves "blessed," make it difficult for me.

I think perhaps people are using this "blessed" phrasing to make sure they acknowledge God's role in their lives instead of saying that they're "lucky," which implies some frivolous bestowing of fortune by the universe instead of a benevolent God, perhaps.

But I was thinking that perhaps what I would like to hear best of all, and what I will hold myself accountable to say when even I would be tempted to let that phrase "blessed" slip from my lips, is "I'm grateful for..."

I'm grateful for my children.

I'm grateful for my home.

I'm grateful for my call to ministry at the church I'm serving.

I'm grateful that I have steady income and that my husband has a good job.

Yes, perhaps all of those things are also blessings, but I would like to talk about gratitude instead.

It's just something I've been thinking about.

spending time with the aged (otherwise known as a morning in a nursing home)

2010-04-05T12:56:00.002-04:00

During this month of April (and the first Monday in May), I volunteered (WHAT WAS I THINKING?) to provide devotions at one of our area retirement communities, for the assisted living folks at 9 a.m. (again--WHAT WAS I THINKING? Did I not realize this would also involve the day after Easter? Yikes.) and the Alzheimer's/dementia unit at 10:30 a.m. Then I am the "Chaplain On Call" until noon.

Actually, all of those "WHAT WAS I THINKING"s are a bit over-the-top. It was a very nice, and even quite Zen kind of morning. Granted, I don't think I'd be able to be a nurse there, but it was very helpful to be there in my capacity this morning.

Devotions consist of singing a hymn, sharing a story or meditation, prayer, and another song. Oh, and the assisted living folks need to be done at 9:20 so they can get to Bingo PROMPTLY at 9:30!

All joking aside, one of the aspects of my job that I truly do love is the time spent with the aged. It provides me with perspective that I might not otherwise have. It provides me with a long view that I might not otherwise have.

I don't have biological grandparents anymore (a fact that was received with shock by just such a one as a 91 (and A HALF) year-old member last week); if I didn't spend time in church with older folks, I might not encounter them much in my life.

It's easy to get wrapped up in a warp-speed, everything-is-important-RIGHT-NOW! kind of lifestyle, but spending time with those who are older can put it in perspective.

Sure, they can be grumpy, itchy, complainy, and crotchety, but they can also describe what they've lived through: their ups and downs, their striving and failures, the tragedies they've encountered and still forged ahead.

For this part of my work, I am deeply grateful today.

scrapped goodness

2010-03-27T08:45:00.002-04:00

I thought this kind of theme was where I was headed with my sermon this week. But, alas, it's not to be. I still kind of like this direction...perhaps I could save it for a study, or some sort of guided prayer time...

Luke 19:40:
He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out."

What is so real for you, so true, that if you didn’t share it, even the stones would cry it out for you?

It may be a burden that you’ve been living with for years, something you just don’t want to carry around anymore, something that is ready to be released. Or it may be an enthusiasm and an excitement about something that you just can’t keep to yourself anymore! Or it may just be a yearning to be more fully yourself, more fully the way God created you to be, instead of fitting yourself into a mold that someone else crafted for you at some point.

from the cutting room floor

2010-03-21T09:23:00.001-04:00

Love this quote from workingpreacher.org, but couldn't make it fit into my sermon for today.

“We can understand the economic and charitable logic beneath Judas's criticism, but we should also recognize that it resembles a rigorous, unyielding piety that cannot stomach a wild love like Mary's. Acts of true grace and love regularly get slandered as deviance.”

yardage

2010-03-02T13:16:00.002-05:00

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

This may be the most boring post you'll ever read from me if you have no remote interest in swimming or fitness, but for my own sake (and maybe for posterity's sake), I am posting the swimming yardage that I did this morning.

It makes me feel good to harken back to my high school swim team days and think in this kind of structure about swimming.

1 x 100 yd freestyle (with flip-turns!)
1 x 50 yd pull (just arms)
1 x 50 yd kick
1 x 50 yd backstroke
1 x 50 yd breaststroke
1 x 100 yd freestyle (with flip-turns again!)
(all of the above 2 x's total) = 1000 yards

bonus 100 yd = 25 yd freestyle sprint followed by 50 yd freestyle easy then final 25 yd freestyle sprint

Whew! 1100 yards in about 35 minutes this morning! Onwards and upwards!

"Behold, I Do a New Thing!" -- A Dramatic Confession

2010-02-16T12:04:00.001-05:00

Feeling a bit emboldened by the Holy Spirit the other week, I wrote this dramatic Prayer of Confession, to be read in three voices during worship. We presented it this past Sunday; I don't know if anyone liked it, but I did get some goosebumps partway through, so at least I was getting something out of it...

In case anyone else might be able to make use of it, here you go:

Behold, I do a new thing!

Really, God, seriously? I’ve lived on this earth, day after day from my beginning, and especially at times like these, when the winter days are long and dark and cold, I don’t see these new possibilities you’re talking about.

Behold, I do a new thing!

God, I’m telling you, I can’t see these new things you’re talking about. I go to work each day, come home and cook dinner each night, then we go to bed, get a few hours of sleep, wake up the next morning and do it all over again. Do you see our lives? They’re so monotonous!

Behold, I do a new thing!

God, you’re quite exasperating, repeating this phrase over and over again, as though saying the same thing another time is going to make a difference. What newness do you promise? All around us we see death, suffering, grief, pain. We turn on the television and see destruction, hopelessness, and hurt. I fail to see how this “new thing” you’re suggesting is real.

Behold, I do a new thing!

God, once again--

What about the new baby born in your cousin’s family?

What about the long-lost relative who recently reconnected with you?

What about the beautiful sunshine last Friday after too many days of snow?

What about the crocuses, waiting to bloom in a few months?

All these things are new…all these things are exciting…all these things are different…and all these things are of God.

Well, maybe you have a point. I mean, I’ve seen the pictures my cousin forwarded me of the new baby. He’s so precious, with his pink, puffy cheeks. And it was great to hear from my mother’s Aunt Mildred; we thought we’d never find her after she moved out west thirty years ago! It was so wonderful to learn of all that she’s been up to in these recent years. And yeah, I was so glad to see the sun after days of snow. And, I do like crocuses; I can’t wait for Spring…

Behold, I do a new thing!

God, forgive me that I sometimes get so bogged down in the dailiness of my life that I fail to see the new things that you ARE doing. Sometimes it seems like we really have to dig for it, but when we look deeply, we can see your hand at work. I’m sorry that sometimes all I see are my own two feet, trudging along; the loads of laundry, waiting to be folded; the dog, tracking in mud from the yard. You are still there, even when these mundane things threaten to take over my mind. I know you are there. I believe it.

Behold, I do a new thing! I am always with you; I am always creating new opportunities for you, new possibilities. Even when it seems hard to find me, I promise, I’m there. Don’t worry, my child, I forgive you; I understand how busy you are and how much the world asks of you. I don’t fault you for this. I just want you to know how much I love you, and I want you to know how available I am to you. I am doing new things all the time, and I want you to join with me in appreciating them! Be at peace, and rest in my assurance. I will bless you and keep you, all of your days.

peeling potatoes

2010-02-13T16:19:00.002-05:00

I find this recipe hilarious. I'll post the full text here, but here's the link to the post by Miss Conduct.

Here's the recipe:

Ingredients
1. Bell peppers. stuffable. and by stuffable i mean no funky shapes.
2. potatoes (didn’t see that coming did you). any kind. really.
3. onion (if you like)
4. salt
5. oil
6. SOUR CREAM.

preheat the oven to 350 at some point during this process.

1. get some bell peppers. pick your colour. if you’re not afraid of sweetness go for the orange or yellow. otherwise do red or green or hell, mix it up. make one of each and pick your favorite.

2. potatoes! peel them (google it) and then cut them into little squares. how little? this little. left over potatoes are not a big deal, i’ll tell you what to do with those at the end.

3. if you like onion, peel one that’s smaller then a bell pepper and grate it. then squeeze the grated bits to drain them (this is fun and not at all gross). then put those… on the side somewhere… the onion is a nice addition but won’t make or break the dish. [Note from Robin: I usually also season the potatoes with paprika and dill.]

4. drain the potatoes. then add oil, salt, and drained grated onion if you like, mix it all together and then stuff the peppers. when you stuff them, stuff them loosely – you don’t need to shove the potatoes in there. but fill up the peppers and then place them on the side in an oiled baking pan. your hands will get oily, so rub the pepper before putting it down in the pan. if you have any extra potatoes just spill them around the peppers. they get all nice and crunchy and i like them.

5. bake for about an hour.

6. when you put the peppers in your plate and cut them all up and stuff… douse them in SOUR CREAM. this is the most important part. SOUR CREAM. ok… maybe not… some people would disagree with me, but that’s because they are FOOLS.

Okay, I LOVE this recipe. (And please don't worry about why this paragraph is indented; I cannot figure out formatting with this daggone blogger program, and if I worry about it too much, I will not blog at all, so we shall just live with it.)
Anyway, I love this recipe not for the ingredients or the finished product, but because of the way it is so generously worded and the storytelling within the recipe.
I also love it because it discusses GOOGLING PEELING POTATOES!
I know longer feel alone in my un-domesticity. The interwebs, they comfort me.
The church I serve is even more rural and slightly old-fashioned than I realized when I accepted the call there, and that's no problem. It reminds me a lot of my childhood, and my grandma, and her Farm Women club and the Mother-Daughter banquets we used to attend with her.
But sometimes I don't think they get how undomesticated I am, and I admit, I'm not too keen on exposing my myriad lacks of domesticity.
For example, every time there is a fifth Tuesday in a month, they have "Soup Kitchen," which means they make scads of turkey pies which are then donated to a local soup kitchen for the next day's luncheon meal. I enjoy helping to peel the potatoes for soup kitchen; it's a time to be with the lay people who help with this mission, and to hear what's happening in their lives, while keeping my hands busy, which is great for keeping me from getting bored or fidgety.
I'll never forget one of the times when I showed up to help, and one of the older ladies said, because some of the folks peel their potatoes wet, and others peel them dry, that I didn't need to worry about those other folks, I should just peel my potatoes "the way you [I] peel them at home." Guffaw. Does she know the last time I have PEELED a single, solitary potato in this house?
But I feel better. Because if others are Googling how to peel potatoes, I am not alone. Thanks be to God! :)

tomorrow's sermon, last week's Scriptures

2010-02-13T16:14:00.002-05:00

We didn't have church last week, so I've had two weeks to work on this sermon, and I still think it could be refined. However, it may have to be as it is, and here's trusting the Holy Spirit to have my back tomorrow!

However, if you have any comments or critique, feel free to comment!

**************

Imagine that you’re at work, at the end of a long day, a day when you’ve been really grinding the gears, not making much progress. Maybe you are making calls, and every time, you get voice mail, and no one is returning your messages. Maybe you are on the road, in your truck, and you keep having to turn around because some passages are still blocked by snow. Maybe you are in a shop, waiting to make a sale, and you’ve seen hardly a customer all day.

And then Jesus comes along, just as you’re finally getting packed up to go home. Maybe you’ve just packed up your bag at your desk, and you have your keys in your hand. Or you’re on your way back to the warehouse with your truck, or you just shut down the register and are about to turn off the lights in the shop and head out the door. And here is Jesus, and he’s saying, try again. Make one more phone call, make a U-turn and find another road that’ll be open, turn the lights back on, wait for one more customer. And then he stays there with you, and suddenly, you’re getting people on the phone, and they’re giving you what you need. And you’ve made the U-turn and there, the road is clean and passable, and you can make your delivery. And here comes a customer, running late on their own schedule for the day, but prepared to make a purchase worth hundreds of dollars in profits.

And you turn and stare at Jesus in disbelief. What in the world? How did you do that? You don’t even know anything about this business, Jesus! And yet you’ve showed me up! I mean, I’m grateful, but…wow…

And then the weight of what this means hits you. Jesus has come to prove something. And now Jesus is going to ask something of you. But you’re not qualified! You fall down on your knees in front of Jesus: “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful person!”

“I couldn’t possibly do what you’re about to ask of me! I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t follow through on all the expectations you have for me!”

You would cry this as so many others have cried it in the past. As Jeremiah, who cried, “Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” And Isaiah, who cried, "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips.” And Paul, who confesses, “I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.” And, of course, Simon Peter, who sees the catch of fish that Jesus has procured in his own nets and cries out, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”

But through God’s grace, you are somehow transformed into just the person God needs in the moment to do God’s work in the world, and so you follow this strange man, this sort of wizard, this Jesus. Like Jeremiah, you hear the words from God: “Do not say, ‘I am only a boy'; for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the Lord.”

And like Isaiah, whose mouth is burned with a glowing hot coal, from the claws of a seraph saying, “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.” And then the voice of God calling, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And Isaiah rises and responds: “Here am I; send me!”

And like Paul, who professes, “By the grace of God I am what I am, and God’s grace toward me has not been in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them—though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me.”

And like Simon Peter, to whom Jesus says, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." And then the passage tells us that “when they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.”

You are part of a long lineage of those in whom God saw something that God needs for God’s kingdom here on earth. You are part of a great cloud of witnesses who are called by God for wonderful, world-changing work. You may not be so sure at first, but Jesus will come to you and convince you. Jesus will prove to you that he’s not somewhere off in the clouds, twiddling his thumbs, discussing pie-in-the-sky theology with scholars of old, but that he is with you, always with you, and knows about your life and is with you in it.

Jesus comes to us wherever we are: at work, at play, and shows us that he’s been there with us all along. He loves us and wants to be included in all we do.

There are times when we say to God, by our words in prayer and worship, and by our very behavior, that we know more about our lives than God does, that we are more expert about our needs than God is, that we are doing fine on our own, and that we’ll just let God know what we need when we need something.

But this is a time when God, in the form of Jesus Christ, comes to Simon, as he comes to every single one of us, and says, “I KNOW about your life. I KNOW about your work. I KNOW about your troubles. I am going to show you that I know about fishing, and that I can even do it better than you. Just in case you think you’ve got all the answers, I’m going to show up on a day when it’s not going so well, and I’m going to SHOW you that I am God, and you are not. I have power that you do not have. So listen to me, trust me, and when I invite you to follow me, follow me.”

If Simon were a runner, Jesus would’ve shown up at the track. If he were a mason, Jesus would’ve come to the job site to lay brick alongside him. But Simon is a fisherman, so Jesus comes on the boat.

If you’ve ever thought that you could not be called by God to do God’s work in the world because you’re just a sinful, fallible human, this week’s lectionary Scriptures are for you. All of the characters in today’s passages, from Isaiah to Paul to the disciples in the Gospel of Luke, are ordinary human beings who resist God’s call to them at first, but then decide to give it a try, and God is able to use them for remarkable work, work that has been recorded in the Bible to inspire and guide us for the ages.

As scholar Karoline Lewis says, “God sees something wonderful in me.” God sees something wonderful in each of us! God created us to be who we are! So then the question that follows is: “How is that who you are then becomes what God needs you to be?”

Preaching professor David Lose suggests that some of this becoming happens in the time of the worship experience, explaining that the word “worship” literally can be taken apart to mean “worth-ship.” He says that we tend to think of worship as something we are doing for God—that sometimes we act as if worship is all about praising God, “as if we worship this really needy God who desperately needs our praise. What if our idea of worship is reversed, that worship is where God calls us worthy, and forgives us, and calls us precious and holy, and then calls us into meaningful life, and calls us into tasks of purpose and meaning and community? We need to work on imagining that worship is the place you come to bed reminded of who you are: broken and vulnerable and failing and sinful, yes, but also precious and beloved and honored, and then, having heard that, you are sent out like [Simon] Peter, and Isaiah, and Paul, to [share who you are with the world, in the way that God would have you.]”

So, when we’re coming to worship each week, instead of looking it at as a time where we are obligated to offer something back to God, what if we can see it as the time where God is claiming US, that God is reaching down to us, that we are being divinely driven and directed to go forth from this place and do God’s work in the world, in all of the ways that God needs us to do God’s work? How would this transform what we experience each week? How would this inspire us in a different way, knowing that this is the place where we come to be fed and to be inspired and to be rejuvenated, instead of viewing worship as an obligation, or a task, or a habit to be enforced?

God is calling YOU. Do you know that Jesus is sitting at your desk next to you in your cubicle? Do you know that Jesus is riding along in your truck, or on your tractor, with you? Do you know that Jesus is right there with you, cleaning up after a potty-training accident if you’re a stay-at-home mom, or a stranded-in-the-snow mom?

Jesus walks alongside us, every moment of our lives, knowing us inside and out, and calling us to contribute to the Kingdom of God using the gifts that we already HAVE. Using who we are NOW, not who we will be when we’re refined and perfected in a few years. “[Jeremiah and] Isaiah and [Simon] Peter were called as they were, and made to be what God wanted them to be. God didn't wait to show up until they were ready.”

It doesn’t mean that God doesn’t continue to refine and develop us. One of the blessings we receive from God is the movement of God’s spirit all around us, encouraging us, improving us, creating the person we are meant to be alongside us. There is a wonderful quote by Leighton Ford that says, “God loves us the way we are, but too much to leave us that way.” We don’t have to do anything to earn, or even to keep, God’s love, but yet we can still continue to develop as people, on our journeys through our lives.

And even in the midst of our growth and development as people and as Christians, God continues to use us, right now, right in this moment in our lives. We might feel like we are very unlikely bearers of the Word, but God calls even us, to do God’s work in the world.

As we prepare to sing “You Have Come to the Lakeshore,” we could substitute lots of words for “lakeshore.” Lord, you have come to the barnyard; Lord, you have come to the high school; Lord, you have come to the restaurant; Lord, you have come to the warehouse; Lord, you have come to the office. No matter where we are, Jesus meets us there, and calls us our into the world to use our gifts, in partnership with him, to make the world a better place, and to show God’s love with everyone we meet! Thanks be to God! Amen.

all is continuum

2010-02-10T07:51:00.002-05:00

The older I get (and I'm aware, I'm still not very old at all), the more I think that life is a continuum.
There is no such thing as Arriving, as Getting There.
Rather, it is a continuum.
This is what I think on my best days.
On my worser days, I want to Arrive, to Have It, whatever IT is, to Be There.

This pertains to so many things: my weight, my home (both the house and the tidiness factor), my abilities, my career, my mindset, my spiritual life, etc.

Good days: I know that life is a journey, not a destination, made up of baby steps, at times two steps forward, one step back, that I need to take the long view of issues related to my body, to church, to faith, to parenting.

Bad days: DO IT NOW OR THE WORLD WILL END!
ALL OR NOTHING!
DON'T RELAX!
DON'T LET UP!
YOU'LL GET IN TROUBLE IF YOU MISS A STEP!
AAARGGGHHH!
(Sorry for the all caps, but yes, this voice yells. Loudly and frantically.)

So I'm working on giving more credence to the rational, long-range voice, and less to the all-or-nothing, do-or-die voice. It is a *practice,* I know...just as with what I mentioned above, there is no "success" of reaching this thought process. It is a daily journey, renewed each morning. This is both a blessing and a frustration. But mostly a blessing.

every day

2010-02-07T15:22:00.003-05:00

I think I'm going to try to write every day. Something, anything, to put up here on this blog. Even if it's just a quote, or even just a little tiny post like this one, about how I want to write something profound and significant, but am just writing a lil' somethin' like this. These are my good intentions, hencewith commenced....

Haiti

2010-01-16T21:07:00.004-05:00

I couldn't possibly say anything better than Songbird has here, so I highly recommend that you check out her post and follow the links for donating. We'll be encouraging our congregation to give through One Great Hour of Sharing with the UCC tomorrow during worship, and for weeks afterward as well. Let's all do our part to help, and let's not forget about the power of prayer.

why I don't ever want to retire

2010-01-04T13:52:00.003-05:00

Found this today in a book called Women Pray that was given to me by a wise mentor.

Whenever I think about retirement, I often think that I don't want to retire (unless my children need me to help care for their children; I would do that.)

Here is why:

God give me work
Till my life shall end
And life
Till my work is done.

~On the grave of the writer Winifred Holtby

Sermon: Arise, Shine!

2010-01-02T17:13:00.001-05:00

Imagine that you could look at the sky and know from the positioning of a star that it declares the birth of a king, a child with the potential to change the world in infinite ways in just 33 short years.

Imagine that you could look at a person and see the light shining from within them, that divine spark that we’ve each hold within us.

One of the most beautiful images I won’t soon forget is of each of your faces, illuminated by the candles that you held as we sang “Silent Night” together on Christmas Eve. We might have to start a new tradition of inviting groups of parishioners to come into the chancel that evening, to see what those of us up here can see: beautiful faces, glowing in the light of single candles, lit to remind us of the light coming into the world through the birth of the Christ child. The image of illuminated faces is a metaphor for the real, but invisible concept of the light that shines in each one of us, the divine spark in each of our hearts, the potential that each of us have by virtue of our existence as part of this human family, as beloved children of God.

Upon first glance, the Gospel lesson today appears to be one that we’ve heard many times, and so we know the story. It’s the passage that goes with the hymn “We Three Kings.” It’s the story of bringing gifts to the baby Jesus: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. It’s a predictable story, and one that we know well. But if we look deeper into the story, and we allow some outside, scholarly voices to guide us, we might uncover more details, that add even more luminosity to the story. Even with more facts, we get more mystery.

To begin with, in this Gospel lesson, nowhere can the word “kings” be found. Matthew tells us about three wise men, magi, which means not that they were magicians, but, according to scholars, that they were astrologers “who studied the heavens for portents of significant events.” Additionally, they were probably not alone, on horseback or camels, approaching Bethlehem, but part of a larger caravan that included servants and supplies, enough to make a journey of several weeks or possibly months.

We tend to picture three kings who ride up to Herod’s throne, get the word to go on to the baby in the manger, freshly birthed and scrubbed and a few days old, and then the wise men scoot off as if going down the block, led by a shiny star on top of the next streetlamp. But if we look closely here, we might also see that quite a bit of time may have passed since Jesus was actually born. If Herod is so threatened by what the wise men have seen: a star in the sky that foretells the birth of a king, a king who Herod realizes is not him, and he declares that all male children 2 or younger are to be put to death, then perhaps up to two years’ time has passed since Jesus’ birth occurred. This also puts a different spin on our images of the wise men coming into the manger; the phrase “on entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother” might refer to a toddling Jesus hiding behind his mother’s skirts, peeking around from behind her knees, instead of a brand-new, pink, puffy infant sleeping in a cradle.

To me, the most fascinating part of rediscovering the details of this Bible story is the suggestion that by the alignment of the stars in the sky, the magi could KNOW that a king had been born to the population. This is why they go and ask Herod: “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.”

When Herod hears this, we can imagine that sort of hollowed-out, cold feeling in the center of his chest, the kind of feeling you get when you hear news that you just don’t want to hear. These magi, these experts in telling of world events based on the stars in the sky, have come to look for the king of the Jews, whom they know is a small child, and who Herod must know, in one sweeping moment of unsettling certitude, is not him. This spawns Herod’s order to do away with male children two years and younger, a horrible, evil, plan to preserve his power, to rid the world of the one come to usurp him, a tragic decree because it causes the loss of life of so many baby boys, and yet not the one who was Herod’s target in the first place.

The reason that Jesus was able to live was due to the courage and the integrity of the magi, who, in keeping with the theme of dreams and visions in Matthew’s Gospel, had been warned in a dream that if they returned to Herod as they’d been commanded, to give word of where Herod could find the child, that Herod would not, as he had suggested, go and pay the baby king homage, but rather go and take the life of the child so that he could no longer be a threat.

The magi, whom we think we know so well because we’ve heard this story so many times, might have more to teach us than we originally thought. Upon first glance, the story is predictable: they see a star, they check it out with Herod, they go find Jesus, they give him gifts, they go on their merry way.

But when we unpack the details, we see the richness of the story, and the terror, too: the richness of the mystical skills of the magi to see important events foretold in the alignment of the stars. Terror at the reaction of Herod and the desire to maintain his power through the ending of many innocent lives, the way the effects of his decree must have rippled through families who were impacted by tragedy. The mystery of the dream that comes to the magi that causes them to disobey Herod’s order to return, and instead to continue back to their homes without telling Herod where to find the child.

The magi are trained to read the stars to find out major events happening in their day. But I’d like to suggest that they don’t just read the stars for the facts, they look at the stars and they see potential. They see in the night sky the telling of what might be, what is to come, what could change the world.

In fact, scholars also suggest that between the time that the magi first see the star, then go to Herod to inquire about the king, then set off for Bethlehem—they haven’t seen the star again since the initial sighting. It is after they leave Herod’s palace and are traveling away that the star reappears, perhaps just for them, just to guide them, and to take them to pay homage and bear witness to the birth of this tiny king, Jesus the Christ.

Upon first glance, this story seemed predictable, run-of-the-mill, same-old, same-old Christmas-time Bible passage, but as we uncover more and more of the details, we are more and more fascinated by the way in which the events unfolded following Jesus’ birth.

Upon first glance, many of our lives may seem predictable, run-of-the-mill, same-old, same-old. We get up each morning, we do our chores or our jobs for the day, we rear our children, we earn our paychecks, we go to bed at night, hoping for a sound sleep and another day to wake, feeling restful.

But when we peer into the lives of those around us, and certainly our own lives, and we really look, beyond the surface, beyond the assumptions that we can make that we’ve seen this all before, that it’s the same old tale, we realize that we each have a story, a unique and wonderful and painful and complicated story, about who we are and why we’ve done what we’ve done in our lives, about our hopes and dreams and who we can be when we let ourselves grow into the fullness of God’s image for us.

This past week, we celebrated the coming of the New Year, and though I’m not a fan of all of the hoopla that goes along with the celebration, with the year-end lists and the media’s emphasis on the changing of time, I would suggest that part of what the New Year’s holiday does, with the emphasis on making resolutions and having a fresh start, is to reconnect us with our story, each year. It’s the chance to look back over the past year, see what has happened, what has connected us to ourselves, to our friends and family, to new acquaintances and companions, and to God, as well as to see those things that pushed us away, that separated us from those around us, from ourselves, and from God. It’s a chance to say, I want this year to be different, I want this year to align more with the story of who I am and who I am called to be. It’s a chance to realize my potential, the potential that I see in myself, that others have seen in me, that God always sees in me.

It’s an artificial “fresh start,” a created holiday, a hyped-up cultural construct, but it can also be used to our advantage, to consider our best selves, to peel back the layers of what has become assumed, and to see what is authentic and original in us.

It’s a chance for us, perhaps, to consider what we might look like with our faces illuminated by candlelight, if we could see ourselves as others might see us in that moment. It’s a chance for us to consider the potential that we hold within ourselves, if we let our lights shine, if we give to the world the gift of ourselves, the best gifts we have to give.

There’s a beautiful quote by Marianne Williamson that had long been falsely attributed to Nelson Mandela; perhaps you’ve heard it before, but I think that it bears repeating as often as possible:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Jesus was one small child, but he bore God to a world in need, and he changed the world forever; we are each one small person, but we bear divinity and humanity and beauty: let us claim our light, arise, and shine for the world to see! Amen.

the things that mark our lives

2010-01-02T16:58:00.003-05:00

A paragraph that I couldn't use in my sermon, but which I think is worth holding onto somehow:

All the rigmarole with year-end lists, best-of and worst-of…we mark time this way, but we all know that the things that really impact our lives, and change our lives, are the things that are just as likely to happen on a Wednesday afternoon in May as on December 31. Things like diagnoses of illness, births of babies, commitments to marry the one we’ve loved for years and want to spend the rest of our lives with. Finding out that the one we love is leaving, finding out that a grandparent has breathed her last breath. These are the things that mark our lives, and don’t necessarily make it onto top-ten lists for Time Magazine.

We Three Kings...Well, Not Really

2010-01-01T09:02:00.002-05:00

I've recently discovered that I kind of enjoy having my sermon material edited and critiqued...I think it's a wonderful development for me, because I've kind of hidden my sermons till they're preached sometimes for fear that I will have to start from scratch because what I think I have is so awful. Or I haven't wanted to hear the criticism, or find out that my brilliant ideas aren't so brilliant (heh.) But I'm growing more comfortable with critique, and since I want to preach the best sermons I can preach, I'm putting some of my fodder out there for critique and questions.

Here is the portion of my sermon that goes back through some of the historical details of the magi in Matthew 2:1-12, which is the lectionary passage for Epiphany, which we're observing on Sunday, January 3 since we don't have a midweek service.

I want to take this in a more applicable-to-today's-life direction eventually, talking about how the Magi could see in the stars the potential of a king, and linking that to our ability to see potential in each other and ourselves...I haven't quite figured out how to transition into that yet from what I've got so far, but that's where I want to land. I'm thinking of ending with Marianne Williamson's passage (the one that is so often--though falsely--attributed to Nelson Mandela) about letting our light shine so that others can also shine. I see it a lot now, and maybe some will think it's overdone, but I have a feeling many in the congregation I serve have never heard it before, and it could help to bring it all together. What do you think?

So, here's the historical stuff, too...have at it!

*****

Upon first glance, the Gospel lesson today appears to be one that we’ve heard many times, and so we know the story. It’s the passage that goes with the hymn “We Three Kings.” It’s the story of bringing gifts to the baby Jesus: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. It’s a predictable story, and one that we know well. But if we look deeper into the story, and we allow some outside, scholarly voices to guide us, we might uncover more details, that add even more luminosity to the story. Even with more facts, we get more mystery.

To begin with, in this Gospel lesson, nowhere can the word “kings” be found. Matthew tells us about three wise men, magi, which means not that they were magicians, but, according to scholars*, that they were astrologers “who studied the heavens for portents of significant events.” Additionally, they were probably not alone, on horseback or camels, approaching Bethlehem, but part of a larger caravan that included servants and supplies, enough to make a journey of several weeks or possibly months.

We tend to picture three kings who ride up to Herod’s throne, get the word to go on to the baby in the manger, freshly birthed and scrubbed and a few days old, and then the wise men scoot off as if going down the block, led by a shiny star on top of the next streetlamp. But if we look closely here, we might also see that quite a bit of time may have passed since Jesus was actually born. If Herod is so threatened by what the wise men have seen: a star in the sky that foretells the birth of a king, a king who Herod realizes is not him, and he declares that all male children 2 or younger are to be put to death, then perhaps up to two years’ time has passed since Jesus’ birth occurred. This also puts a different spin on our images of the wise men coming into the manger; the phrase “on entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother” might refer to a toddling Jesus hiding behind his mother’s skirts, peeking around from behind her knees, instead of a brand-new, pink, puffy infant sleeping in a cradle.

To me, the most fascinating part of rediscovering the details of this Bible story is the suggestion that by the alignment of the stars in the sky, the magi could KNOW that a king had been born to the population. This is why they go and ask Herod: “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage” (Matt 2:2 NRSV).

When Herod hears this, we can imagine that sort of hollowed-out, cold feeling in the center of his chest, the kind of feeling you get when you hear news that you just don’t want to hear. These magi, these experts in telling of world events based on the stars in the sky, have come to look for the king of the Jews, whom they know is a small child, and who Herod must know, in one sweeping moment of unsettling certitude, is not him. This spawns Herod’s order to do away with male children two years and younger, a horrible, evil, plan to preserve his power, to rid the world of the one come to usurp him, a tragic decree because it causes the loss of life of so many baby boys, and yet not the one who was Herod’s target in the first place.

The reason that Jesus was able to live was due to the courage and the integrity of the magi, who, in keeping with the theme of dreams and visions in Matthew’s Gospel, had been warned in a dream that if they returned to Herod as they’d been commanded, to give word of where Herod could find the child, that Herod would not, as he had suggested, go and pay the baby king homage, but rather go and take the life of the child so that he could no longer be a threat.

The magi, whom we think we know so well because we’ve heard this story so many times, might have more to teach us than we originally thought. Upon first glance, the story is predictable: they see a star, they check it out with Herod, they go find Jesus, they give him gifts, they go on their merry way.

But when we unpack the details, we see the richness of the story, and the terror, too: the richness of the mystical skills of the magi to see important events foretold in the alignment of the stars. Terror at the reaction of Herod and the desire to maintain his power through the ending of many innocent lives, the way the effects of his decree must have rippled through families who were impacted by tragedy. The mystery of the dream that comes to the magi that causes them to disobey Herod’s order to return, and instead to continue back to their homes without telling Herod where to find the child.

*"Scholars" here refers to Paul J. Achtemeier's commentary in Feasting on the Word.

Pastoral Prayer for Christmas Eve

2009-12-24T15:12:00.002-05:00

I believe that one of my strengths in worship is merging together various existing resources to create a worship experience that is real and fresh for those gathered, but I often bemoan my lack of (or at least perceived lack of) an ability to write my own resources, so I've been trying to do this more often, and I figure that putting it out there might help me to get some feedback and to improve.

I general preach the Pastoral Prayer (following the sermon) off the cuff, but for tonight, I wanted to write something out, so here is what I've created:

Glorious and Incarnate God,
We give you thanks this evening for the opportunity to worship together in this place, for the excitement of celebrating the miracle of the birth of Jesus once again this year, for the hope, peace, love, and joy that you bring to our lives.

We ask that you would minister to each of us as we have need, that you might search our hearts and know those things that weigh us down, and that in your wondrous love and infinite wisdom you might lift our burdens.

This evening, we look toward the future with hope, knowing that life is full of possibilities because of the birth of the Christ child, who came to save us all through his example of a life perfectly lived: a life that brought liberation to the captives, freedom to those enslaved, hope to the downtrodden, and strength to the weak.

We look outside of ourselves tonight and we see hope for the world, we see hope for our nation, we see hope for the church.

And then we look back into our hearts and we see hope for ourselves, that we might love ourselves as you have loved us, that we might be gracious with ourselves as you are gracious to us, that we might forgive ourselves as you have forgiven us.

And so, in the name of the one who comes this evening in the form of a child, and as he grows in stature teaches us to pray, let us join together in the prayer of our Savior: “Our father…”

"I Preached That Church Down to Four"

2009-12-09T16:38:00.003-05:00

Was listening to back podcasts from Day1 on my way into church this morning, and heard this sermon by Will Willimon. Here is a portion, which I love:

"The story is told that Clarence Jordan, that great Southern, social prophet, visited an integrated church in the Deep South. Jordan was surprised to find a relatively large church so thoroughly integrated, not only black and white but also rich and poor; and this was in the early sixties, too. Jordan asked the old country preacher, "How did you get the church this way?"

"What way?" the preacher asked. Jordan went on to explain his surprise at finding a church so integrated, and in the South, too.

The preacher said, "Well, when our preacher left our small church, I went to the deacons and said, 'I'll be the preacher.' The first Sunday as preacher, I opened the book and read, 'As many of you as has been baptized into Jesus has put on Jesus and there is no longer any Jews or Greeks, slaves or free, males or females, because you all is one in Jesus.'

Then I closed the book and I said, 'If you are one with Jesus, you are one with all kind of folks. And if you ain't, well, you ain't.'"

Jordan asked what happened after that. "Well," the preacher said, "the deacons took me into the back room and they told me they didn't want to hear that kind of preaching no more."

Jordan asked what he did then. "I fired them deacons," the preacher roared.

"Then what happened?" asked Jordan.

"Well," said the old hillbilly preacher, "I preached that church down to four. Not long after that, it started growing. And it grew. And I found out that revival sometimes don't mean bringin' people in but gettin' people out that don't dare to love Jesus." (As told in Hauerwas and Willimon, Where Resident Aliens Live, Nashville: Abingdon, 1996, p. 103).

Love that bit about "I preached that church down to four."

Sometimes, maybe that is what God is calling us to do? Instead of keeping everybody happy, but not pushing ourselves to preach the Gospel as we hear/see it...but what if we did, and what if the church shrank at first, but then grew into what God intended? Are we on the cusp of this in our culture, anyway?

PS. To get the full Willimon effect, you really have to hear him tell it. I would encourage listening to the sermon. I know some people aren't fans, but I kind of like his blunt, gruff style.

Profound Scripture Passage of the Day

2009-11-17T13:55:00.004-05:00

Wow.

"No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other.

You cannot serve God and wealth.

Huh. Never quite heard it that way before. But there you have it, straight from Matthew 6:24.

Water Goats

2009-11-16T15:46:00.002-05:00

If you go to this website, GoatWorld.com, you can learn a lot about goats, and you can even see this picture:

That is a picture of a goat.

Yesterday, we drove past a pond on the way to church, and my son was chattering away in the back seat. Suddenly, I heard him say, "I saw water goats today! They were swimming!"

I questioned him further, laughing. "Water goats? Where were they? On the pond?"

"Yes!" he said, enthusiastically. "And some had their heads down!"

I started laughing hysterically. I believe he was referring to the creature you see below:
Ummm, that would be a swan, no?

Hehehehehehe....water goats! Where did he come up with that?

Friday Five: Friday the 13th!

2009-11-13T11:29:00.003-05:00

From RevGalBlogPals:

"The fear of Friday the 13th is called paraskevidekatriaphobia, a word derived from the concatenation of the Greek words Paraskeví (Παρασκευή) (meaning Friday), and dekatreís (δεκατρείς) (meaning thirteen), attached to phobía (φοβία) (meaning fear). The term triskaidekaphobia derives from the Greek words "tris", meaning 'three', "kai", meaning 'and', and "deka", meaning 'ten'. the whole word means three and ten. The word was derived in 1911 and first appeared in a mainstream source in 1953." (Wikipedia)

With thanks to my dear spouse TechnoGuy for the great suggestion, it's a Friday the 13th Friday Five!

1. How is this Friday the 13th looking for you?

So far, so good. I actually love Friday the 13th! I am a 13th-born kiddo, and so the 13th is always special for me. Then, I happened to find a way to get married on the 13th (of June), graduate from seminary on the 13th (of May), and become ordained on the 13th (of September!) The only super-special things that have happened on days OTHER than the 13th have been the births of my wee ones, but that's okay, because 1) you can't control when they come out! and 2) now they'll have their own special days/numbers.

However, I am a bit sad today. The youth at the church where I previously served as Assistant Pastor are grieving the loss of a friend today, and another friend is in a coma in the hospital. Both girls were involved in a 4-wheeler crash yesterday in the afternoon. One died instantly, and the other is in critical condition in the hospital. So, please send prayers their way.

2. Have you ever had anything unlucky happen on Friday the 13th?

I haven't! Possibly because I am always so excited for these days? I remember being especially thrilled when my birthday fell on a Friday!

3. Did your family of origin embrace or scorn superstitions?

On the continuum between embracing and scorning, they were probably smack in the middle. We didn't really talk about superstitions very much, or live by any.

4. Are there any unique or amusing ones from your family, region, or ethnic background?

Sorry that I don't have a fun answer for this! I really don't have anything to share....

5. Do you love or hate horror movies like "Friday the 13th"?

HATE HATE HATE!!!! I am a big fat 'fraidy cat! I don't like scary movies, blood and gore, anything like that. I actually am sort of afraid of the dark, in my own house. So, no scary movies for me!

Friday Five: Shiny and New

2009-11-06T08:42:00.003-05:00

Songbird at RevGalBlogPals writes:

"There's a new baby on my street, a double PK whose Mom and Dad are Methodist pastors and church planters. I'm hoping to go over and meet her today. I love new babies, the way they smell and their sweet little fingers and toes. Little K has me thinking about all the new things that please us with their shiny freshness."

Please share with us five things you like *especially* when they are new.

1. Cars -- I'll probably never buy a *new* car, but I love that new car smell!

2. Babies -- Once I got the epidural, childbirth was probably one of my favorite experiences in life EVER! Feeling that new life spill forth, hearing baby's first cry, meeting my new wee one. So wonderful, I think I might have to do it again soon! (But no, I'm NOT pregnant now!!!)

3. Coffee -- This is maybe not one of those "new" things, but the first sips of coffee in the morning are always the best. After that, it's all just downhill toward the caffeine jitters for the rest of the day!

4. Books, especially a new paperback novel -- LOVE having a new book. The anticipation of curling up with it, the unruffled newness of its pages; I love it! I've been trying to read more library books lately, but there's still nothing like a brand-new book from Borders.

5. Magazines -- Fashion/beauty mags are my guilty pleasure, and there's nothing I love more (when I have time to actually read it!) than seeing a brand new one waiting for me in the mailbox at the end of a long day!

A Button to Justify

2009-11-03T08:55:00.002-05:00

So, if you know me from Twitter at all, you know that I've been whining since Sunday about being sick. I'm not sure if it's bona fide H1N1 or just the seasonal flu (I am pretty sure it's flu, though, since it's come with fever and achy, don't-touch-my-skin-it-might-rip feelings), but it's got me laid up.

I have received lots of wonderful tweets from my good friends who have encouraged me to take care of myself and stay home; the world will not end if I'm not at church for two days. What's more, do I really want to be making other people sick?

And yet why is it so hard for me to give myself this grace? Why do I need the justification of my Twitter friends, who could end up (though they haven't) debating amongst themselves whether or not I'm too sick to go to work? If you have any thoughts on what my problem is, or how I can fix it in myself, I'd love to hear it. I seriously don't always get what goes on in my little brain. If it were anyone else, I'd say, with wide, generous breadth about the true seriousness of the symptoms: "If you don't feel well, STAY HOME!" Yet I simply cannot do the same thing, unequivocally, for myself.

It took my mom saying, without any hemming or hawing, that I should stay home. Then I could listen. My MOM told me. So here I am. And then I found the nifty CDC button, which will have an honorary spot on my sidebar till all this flu stuff blows over, to help remind me, and all of us, that we should take care of ourselves (and protect others from our germs) when we're not well, and that it shouldn't be this hard to do it.

Sunday's Sermon: Short and Sweet

2009-10-27T15:38:00.003-04:00

Have been meaning to share the sermon I preached this past Sunday. I began by reading both the passages of the Gospel for 10/25 as well as from 10/18, as noted below. We moved into a time of a congregation forum later in the service, so I preached just a short homily instead of a full message as usual.

*********

Mark 10:35-45

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” They replied, “We are able.” Then Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.”

When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John. So Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many."

Mark 10:46-52

They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.

“What do you want me to do for you?”

This is the question that Jesus asks, in two very different contexts.

The first time, it is in response to James’ and John’s demand, and the second time, it is in response to a very different plea from the blind beggar Bartimaeus, who cries out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asks, both in response to those who demand glory and to one who seeks healing.

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asks with outstretched arms, open hands, looking at us.

We come to Jesus, in all our different contexts, some of us seeking worldly goods, recognition, and a seat of honor. Some of us come, looking for Jesus to search us and know us, to discover our most wounded places, our griefs and our brokenness, and to make us whole.

Any way that we approach Jesus, we do so with our humanity in full view. Both the stories of James & John and of Bartimaeus showcase the different aspects of very human beings and the needs that we present. Desires for greatness, and desires to just be healed enough that we might experience all that life has to offer—all that it seems others already have access to.

I tend to pick on James and John in the passage from last week, but I don’t mean to imply that they are so bad. They give us a great view of a very human way to approach God, and I should be the first to admit that I have certainly approached God with requests that had more to do with my ego or with selfish, worldly desires than concerns about service, or mission, or healing. So I don’t mean to make it sound like it’s a mortal sin to stand in front of God with a misguided request.

And at the same time, the contrast with Blind Bartimaeus in today’s passage helps us to gain some perspective about what we are asking from Jesus.

We can look at ourselves and the requests we bring to Jesus and discern if they are in alignment with furthering God’s kingdom here on earth, or if they are more in alignment with furthering our own self-interests.

What kind of requests do you present to God? Do you truly show God where you are must vulnerable and in need of God’s intervention? Or do you prefer to hide those parts of yourself, and instead ask God for things that could be considered more superficial? Know that God waits, through Jesus Christ, to hear the desires of your heart—the things that REALLY matter to you, the things that keep you up at night, the things that haunt your soul in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon when you think you’re just going to go pick up the dry cleaning and instead find yourself sitting in the parking lot with tears in your eyes.

Regardless of the requests you bring, Jesus’ response will be the same: “What do you want me to do for you?”

Jesus longs for you to share with him what you need, and how he can serve you. Hear these words of truth, and allow them to bring the truth out of your soul, out of your heart, and onto your lips, that you might live your life fully, and in cooperation with the Risen Christ, who is here in our midst, today and always. Amen.

Toot, Toot!

2009-10-07T11:22:00.002-04:00

Those of you who know me from Facebook and Twitter are probably groaning at my ad nauseam proppage of my editorial, but I'm just a wee bit excited!

This is an editorialized version of my "Can We Talk?" sermon from a few weeks back.

Our local Sunday paper, the York Sunday News, printed it this past Sunday, October 4. You can read it here.

Son of a Preacher-Mom

2009-09-29T18:57:00.003-04:00

Oh, the things I can just imagine continuing to come out of my children's mouth since they're exposed to me as both a mom (woman, of course) and the church and sayings of the church.

Just spoken by Little Guy (who will be 3 exactly one month from today) while he was looking at the razor I bought at Target today: *cue singsong voice* "When you have a new razor, give it to Christ the Lord..."

Oh my goodness. Too funny.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2009-09-26T18:23:00.005-04:00

From RevGalBlogPals:
"There is something so nostalgic about this time of year, at least in the Northern Hemisphere. The nights grow cooler, crops are harvested, for some of us the leaves are beginning to change colors. The scent of smoke is in the air, pumpkins are in the stores (or on wagons, or in roadside stands for those of us in the country). I'm thinking of putting away my summer clothes and pulling out the sweaters. And I have a tub of Fall-themed items that my husband just lugged up from the basement. I'm looking for my scarecrow."

For this week, let's share some memories along with some hopes and expectations.

1. Share a Fall memory.
Each fall, my mom would take one Saturday to make applesauce with my sister and me. We would stop at Blessing's Farm Stand to buy Granny Smith apples from him (a stand that is now defunct; he has passed away and his farm has been sold; the barn torn down and the silo in ruin), then we would go home, stew the apples on the stove, and then mash them through a conical masher-thing, into a very fine applesauce below. I used to love to eat the sweet-tart applesauce while it was still warm, just freshly made. Delicious!

2. Your favorite Fall clothes--(past or present)?
I LOVE Fall clothes of all types! And favorite fall colors would definitely be the oranges and golds that mark the season, though I don't wear those colors in clothing! When the seasons turn, you can find me in greys, browns, plums, and blues, just like most of the rest of the year, but I love getting the sweaters out! I MUCH prefer fall dressing to the clothing that is required in the dog days of summer -- boots, and jeans, and sweaters, hurray!

3. Share a campfire story, song, experience...etc.
My favorite campfire experience would have to be of making s'mores. My parents live on a farm, and each fall they find a way to host a hayride of some sort. When I was growing up, they'd have one for their adult Sunday School class at the United Methodist church we attended; then it was for the youth group at the UCC Church we transferred to; one year I had a hayride gathering for my friends from school; another time it was my parent's "card club" (or social group, as it were!) I LOVE toasted marshmallows and s'mores, so campfires always meant that for me!

4. What is your favorite thing about this time of year?
I love so many things about fall. My favorite seasons are fall and spring--I love the "in-between" temps and the transitional feeling, though I'd be happy if the seasons lasted all year, and that we could just skip summer and winter! Probably my favorite favorite thing is the food -- I love eating heartier meals and stews, I love that apples are in season and all that goes with that, and I love pumpkins and spice-flavored breads, cakes, and pies. Ah, not a time for dieting!

5. What changes are you anticipating in your life, your church, family...whatever...as the season changes and winter approaches?
I am not sure of many "new" changes, more just continuation in my new call, where I began in July, and increased involvement as we get into the programmatic time of year and away from the rest of summer. I'm looking forward to continuing to bond with the people in the church, and hearing their stories and grower closer to them.

Slightly off-topic: I'm also looking forward to my son's 3rd birthday in a month or so, and hopefully soon he will be potty-trained!

Sadly, I am not much of a cook and so I don't have a recipe to share, other than to encourage you to eat apples and pumpkin pie!

A Start for Sunday

2009-09-22T16:11:00.003-04:00

As I'm working toward this Sunday's sermon, I'm thinking on this passage from Mark 9:38-50:

John said to him, "Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us." But Jesus said, "Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterwards to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.

"If any of you put a stumbling-block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell., And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.

"For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another."

Here are some lines that I jotted down which may or may not end up making it into my sermon...or they very well may end up taking over and being the main idea:

"Good deeds done without being done in Christ’s name are still good deeds. Good works done without being labeled “Christian” are still good works."

For Irene, on Her Baptism

2009-09-19T22:03:00.000-04:00

I wish that every person could at least one relationship that is of the nature of the one that I had with my grandmother. I’m not sure if my parents felt it when I was born, and was in the room with her, or if it developed as I grew older, but there was a soul connection between the two of us that is unique and for which I will be forever grateful.

I used to love the stories she’d tell me about the things I did when I was little, how I’d pat the floor next to me when I was sitting down with my pile of books to read, so that she would sit down and join me, or how I’d call her on my play telephone, just as I’d call many other people, and have long and involved conversations with them.

When I think back to the moments that I spent with her, I don’t always even remember what we did, or specific words of wisdom that she gave me, I just remember enjoying her company, feeling her love, and being cared for by her. Sure, I know that she drove me to piano lessons, and she always had a stash of red gummy Swedish fish in the dining room, and that she would make me a snack of blueberry Eggo waffles on the afternoons I stayed with her after school. I remember her hand-rolling pot-pie noodles on her kitchen counters, every counter spread with flour first, and I remember her making the BEST mashed potatoes I have ever eaten.

But there was something more, there was a connection beyond the activities, beyond the words, and I pray that either of my children might find that with at least one of their grandparents, or even with my husband or me, or with more than one of us.

I’ll never forget one day when my dad, my grandma, and I were sitting at the little table in the patio room, just the three of us, and I felt at complete peace. I just felt complete, as though the three of us were all connected, that there was some sort of unexplainable thread of being that linked from each of us to the next, that we were whole because we had each other.

And I suppose that I thought that Grandma would live forever. I was completely shocked when she died, and yet her death helped me make some very important choices in my life. It was in my time of grief that I declared that I would attend seminary, and soon.

In college, I had an advisor who suggested that for certain professions, one should be of a more advanced age and have more life experience, or wisdom, I suppose, before undertaking the training for that profession. He thought this applied to such roles as college professor, for himself, and pastor, for me. When I suggested that I might go from college straight to seminary, he discouraged it.

So, I found myself one year out of seminary, working in a job that I both loved and loathed, wanting something more, and suddenly, over the course of one weekend of ill health, my grandmother was gone. And it seemed as though my mortality was staring me in the face, which is a phenomenon that many of us encounter when we lose someone we love. And, what was I doing with my life? Even though I was only 21 years old, I felt as though I needed to make a more significant contribution to society, and to do it soon.

As I heard the stories that my cousins and uncle and family and friends told over the days leading up to and including the funeral, I learned of how many lives my grandma had touched as an elementary school teacher; I would say that it seemed as though maybe 75% of all those who had gone through the Northeastern School District in Manchester and Mt. Wolf had had her for the fifth grade, or perhaps another year at some point, and remembered her fondly. I also remembered the stories of how Grandma attended Millersville University to prepare to be a teacher, and then began her teaching career upon graduation. She had taught for most of her life, and even though she began young and learned a lot as times changed and she matured, no one ever mentioned that it would have been better had she waited until she was in her forties to begin.

I can’t say that I am grateful to Grandma for dying when she did; I wish she’d been there at my wedding—she liked Don from the very start, and I knew that after she first met him, if I went to visit her without him along, she would ask, “Where’s Don?” and look mournful for a few minutes until she accepted the fact that I was all she was getting that day.

When Jack was born, and my cousin Robin came to visit, she looked at Jack’s little hands and remarked, “Grandma always said that Emily (her daughter)’s fingers were like little matchsticks.” And I felt my breath catch in my throat—I wanted Grandma to be there to hold Jack, to comment about HIS little fingers, to know him, too.

But I’m grateful that I had 21 good years of knowing my Grandma, and of having that connection with her that I cherish so much, and that inspired me to suggest that we name our daughter Irene, after her.

The letter of James today says, “Who is wise and understanding among you? Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom.” It seems as though Grandma lived by this verse, though I’m not sure how familiar she was with it. It is my prayer that this might be a guiding sentiment for Irene’s life, and for all of ours, as well. James goes on: “the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.” And the passage for today ends by saying, “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.”

What wise words for all of us as we prepare to make the promises of the baptism covenant. For Don and I will make promises on Irene’s behalf today, promises that she will be exposed to this community and to the Word of God so that she might grow in relationship with God and that she might learn how to live out her faith in the world. But baptism is not just about the baby and the parents. Baptism is about the gathered community, who pledges to support the family and the child as well.

In other countries, we hear the adage: “It takes a village to raise a child.” And we might think of it as a quaint notion for countries less developed than ours. But even if we’re not aware of it, of course it still takes a village. And already I see that St. Peter’s Lischey’s will be a big part of that village for both of our children.

When Jack was baptized, we were at Trinity Church in Hanover, because I was a member there and my dad was still serving as Associate Pastor. Even when we talked about the promises of the congregation in the sermon that day, we knew that they were symbolic promises, made on behalf of the communities of faith that would some day nurture Jack, but that Jack would not be growing up within the actual congregation of Trinity.

But here, at Lischey’s, you will be Irene’s community of faith, and also Jack’s, now. And so the portion of the baptism liturgy that involves the covenant between the congregation and the child takes on a special meaning today, as you promise to support Irene, to nurture her fledgling faith, to love and care for her as you do all the children in the midst of this congregation, as you did a few months ago with Allison, as you have with countless children in the past. These are promises not to make lightly, but to be spoken with intentionality, and a vow of endurance that we, as both parents and congregation, will see these things through.

It is fitting that in the Gospel lesson for today, we encounter this passage: “Jesus sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

As you welcome the children that come into this congregation to be baptized, you are welcoming Jesus himself. And as you grow in faith with the children, you know that Jesus walks alongside you. The beauty of baptisms within the gathered congregation is that they give all of us the opportunity to affirm our faith and reaffirm our baptismal vows as we witness the baptism of one who is new in our midst.

Now as Irene prepares to receive her baptism in a few minutes, I offer the following pledges and prayers for her, which I believe also apply universally to the way that we all feel about our children and those we care for, which I also offered to Jack at his baptism. These prayers answer the question, “What kind of life? What kind of life do we intend for Irene? What kind of things do we hope for her, and for each one of us?”

Well, dear Irene, these are some things that I hope for you:

That you would find the kind of joy that you bring to our lives, and that you would be able to some day have a sense of just how much joy that is
That you would live boldly, without fear, and be able to take find a way to serve God doing something you feel passionate about like justice, or fighting against poverty, making the world a better place for your generation and those that will come after you.
That you will love others and be compassionate, following Jesus’ example
That you would find within you the special talents and gifts which God has given you, and that you would use them to the Glory of God and for your enjoyment. That you would not get too wrapped up in being expert in anything, but that you would sing, or dance, or play sports, or do algebra with a dedication to that work because it’s something God has given you the ability to do.
Now having said that, I hope that you would know just how precious your life is, before piling on any accomplishments or characteristics. Just because you exist, you are loved unconditionally, and there is absolutely nothing you can ever do to change that.
That you would never, ever doubt this love, even when your dad and I are being too busy, even if we forget to tell you enough
And most of all, most of all, I hope that you would never wish to be anyone else but you. God “knit you together in your mother’s womb,” specially, just the way you are, the way you are meant to be. You may not end up being the fastest runner, or the best singer, or the smartest or most talented, but who cares? That’s not the point. You are you, just as God has intended you to be. You are loved, cared for, blessed, and wonderful, because you, like each one of us, are of God. Amen.

Ring the Bells that Still Can Ring...

2009-09-08T15:04:00.002-04:00

I know this is probably old news to so many of you, but yesterday was truly the first time I'd listened to Leonard Cohen's "Anthem" the whole way through, and read all the lyrics. I'd heard quotes from it before, but never stuck it out. Here's a beautiful version of it from YouTube, and the lyrics follow. I hope that it nourishes your spirit today.

"Anthem"

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.

I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.

Ring the bells that still can ring ...

You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.

[ www.azlyrics.com ]

Wow, I Won!

2009-09-07T17:19:00.003-04:00

So, see that cool button over there on the right, with the apple, for the Cool Mom Picks Back to School Shopping Guide?

Well, that cool button won me $450 worth of shopping credits at Moxie Kids and Em Tanner Designs. (It's $200 and $250 at each site, respectively, or I might have them swapped.) Anyway, I am so grateful! And excited and honored! Yay!

Just had to share...that's my happy news for the week!

Can We Talk?

2009-09-05T18:23:00.002-04:00

“Can we talk?”

When I read over the lectionary Scriptures for today, I felt a burden had been placed on my heart in dealing with them for the sermon.

Lately, when he hears me sigh, my son Jack will say, “Mommy, why you said ‘huh’?”

I’m pretty sure I let out a pretty good ‘Huh’ on this week.

Now, you could probably say, Why even mess with the lectionary Scriptures this week, then? Why not just find another beloved passage to work with, preach another sermon, wait until these passages come up in another three years and deal with them then? But part of the value of following the Lectionary is having to deal with passages that we might not want to deal with, at times when we might not want to deal with them. Yes, there is value in that.

So, I come before you today, and I ask, humbly, Can we talk?

You might wonder why these passages make me ask this. Well, I have to tell you what’s been weighing on my heart the past few weeks, what has been getting me riled up in my spiritual life and in my secular life, in my time of keeping up with current events, and in my time of personal prayer. And, I’ll confess to you what this is—it’s certainly not something I thought I’d be talking about on my – what? – sixth? Sunday here.

So, I’ll stop hemming and hawing and just utter the phrase: health care reform.

I know you don’t want to hear this from the pulpit. I know there might be some of you whose knees just kicked out reflexively, and you’re ready to stand up and walk out that door. But wait, stay with me; I promise, I’ll be gentle. Because what I want to say is not that I have a solution that you should all buy into or that I endorse the views of one side or the other. What I want to say is, Can we talk? Here, at St. Peter’s Lischey’s, in Spring Grove, in North Codorus Township, in York County, can we talk?

Can we talk about what we hear when we read these lines from Proverbs 22: “The rich and the poor have this in common: the Lord is the maker of them all. Whoever sows injustice will reap calamity, and the rod of anger will fail. Those who are generous are blessed, for they share their bread with the poor. Do not rob the poor because they are poor, or crush the afflicted at the gate; for the Lord pleads their cause and despoils of life those who despoil them.”

What do you hear in this passage? Who do you think of when you think of the poor? Who do you think of when you think of the rich? Which one are you? And what does it mean to sow injustice? One person’s injustice is another person’s justice – that’s why we need to talk. One person’s definition of rich is another person’s poor. Where do we end up on this if we don’t talk?
That’s why I say today that it’s the heath care debate that I’m concerned about. I don’t want to talk about health care plans or options or reform—I’m having a lot of trouble with the way the debate is happening.

We are not talking—people, across the nation, are not talking. We’re yelling, and pointing fingers, and wishing ill on our adversaries, and what really makes me SAD more than anything, is that some of the meanest behavior is being done in the name of God, in the name of Christ.

Again, I ask, can we talk? Because some of what is being done, or being suggested, does not seem to me to follow the teachings of the Scriptures. It’s just a slinging back and forth of beliefs and retorts and ill-will, but there’s no conversation. So, can we talk?

Last week, the letter of James told us that “every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father.” James goes on: “You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger, for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness.” Today, James goes on to caution us against favoritism among our Christian brothers and sisters, and then he says, “Listen, my beloved brothers and sisters. Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him… You do well if you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ But if you show partiality, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors… For judgment will be without mercy to anyone who has shown no mercy; mercy triumphs over judgment.” He continues, “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, keep warm, and eat your fill,’ and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?”

What do you hear in this passage? What does it say about judgment? Likewise, what does it say about mercy, about kindness, about sharing? Are there exclusions? Are there exceptions? Is there something contextual we’re missing? You might say, “I don’t know, Pastor, you tell me.” But what I’m saying is, Can we talk? Can we talk together about what we think this means in our life together, in our context together? I’m not here to preach at you, but to preach to you and minister with you.

I don’t have a monopoly on the meaning of the text; I only offer my interpretation based on the training I’ve received and the time I’ve taken in prayer and study to work on this. But what do you have to say? Can we talk?

Today we dedicate our Christian Education program for the new school year, and we install the teachers who will spend time with our children, and with our adults, time in learning and study, learning the basics of the faith, the foundational stories that we all remember from our youngest years, reading closely over the Scriptures with more critical thinking as we get older. What do we want to teach our children? What do we want to teach our grown-ups? Aren’t we going to teach them to engage in dialogue? Aren’t we going to teach them to listen respectful both to their teachers and to each other as they discuss what the Bible passages mean to them? We, here, together, in this environment, can promote that kind of spirit of loving conversation and even debate, seeking to speak the truth in love (maybe it was a good thing that passage came up earlier in the lectionary for us a few weeks ago) and to discern what the truth really is for us, together.

I’ve been hearing in the news this week about a pastor, Steven Anderson, from Kansas, who is praying for God to kill President Obama. He preached a sermon just last week entitled, “Why I Hate Barack Obama,” and in it, he prayed for the President’s death. He is the preacher at a Baptist church, and has the opportunity to influence many people who are in his congregation and hear his sermons each week, and he is using his platform to suggest this kind of hate?

I just can’t abide it, and that’s why, only six weeks in here, I’m risking irritating you, dear people of Lischey’s, by using the gift I’ve been entrusted with here—the pulpit—to invite us to converse together in love. I promise, I will not be political each Sunday; I will not even be political once a month; I will listen to you, whether or not I agree with you, and I will mostly preach the Good News that is found in Scripture each week. But right now, at this particular moment in time, at this juncture in public discourse and in history, I need to use this moment to invite you to talk with me, to talk with each other, to talk with your friends and family, to promote love, not divisiveness.

We all want to hear the good news in Scripture, but we must also hear the challenge. What are we hearing today? We’re being reminded that to God, there is no distinction in favoritism between rich and poor; in fact, if we read the Bible closely, we see that quite a bit of the time, the poor fare more favorably than do the rich, throughout the Old Testament, in the Gospels, and in the Epistle lessons.

So what is the Good News for us today? It is that if we walk in the ways of the Lord, if we do justice, and love mercy, and deal kindly with the orphan, and the widow, and the poor person, and the stranger, we are in good shape. If we listen to each other and we speak the truth in love to each other and we work together at showing peace and kindness, we are in good shape. If we encourage others to stop yelling and start listening, to bridle their tongues and open their ears and hearts, we are in good shape.

The Prayer of St. Francis says this:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Let us remember these words as we carry on with our lives of service this week; let us seek to quell heated discussions and hateful remarks in favor of sowing seeds of love and peace wherever we go. Let us hear the quiet voice of God, calling us to be gentle and kind with each other. Let us answer the question: “Can we talk?”

I hope we can. I believe we can. I know we can. Amen.

Everyone Should Read This

2009-09-02T14:23:00.001-04:00

Please, my friends, take a moment to read this open letter by Brian McLaren on Sojo.net, and pass it on. VERY well-written, and sorely needed reasoning right now!

Friday Five: I Like Myself (Right?)

2009-08-29T08:22:00.002-04:00

Deciding to get in on the Friday Five from RevGalPals a bit late this week, but, better late than never, I suppose! Here is this week's starter:

Lately I seem to be encountering many people who have a very difficult time finding anything good to say about themselves. They are able to extend grace and forgiveness's to others but find it difficult to extend that same grace to themselves.

With that in mind, let's share some healthy affirmation today! Tell us five things you like about yourself!

Okay, so...5 things I like about myself:

1) I like that I am a good listener. As I'm getting to know my congregation, I'm doing a lot of listening, and I can affirm that I do believe I'm a good listener.

2) I can affirm that ...

Okay, can I just digress here a minute and say that this is hard? I would be part of the group that SingingOwl is mentioning, that aren't very nice to themselves. I'm only on #2 and already running out of things to lift up about myself...but I will keep trying...

2) Okay...I like that most of the time, I think I'm a good mom. I allow my kids to explore and take risks, and I care for myself so that I can also care for them. I have my moments, but overall, I think I'm doing alright with motherhood.

3) In that vein, I really like that I nurse the baby, and that I've been able to breastfeed both my toddler and now the baby. With the toddler, it was really a struggle in the beginning, as he was a snacker and so never let me get any rest because he wanted to nurse every hour, but I stuck it out, and that's something I'm proud of. Part of the payoff from that was that it was MUCH easier the second time around.

4) I like that I am a caring person, that I care for people both within and outside of my immediate circle, and that I go out of my way to try to let people know that I care by giving them my attention.

5) I like that I work for justice issues, in my own way. It feels good to be informed of what is going on in the world and to want to do something about it, even though sometimes I'd prefer to stick my head in the sand. Yet, when I see that others get results with their justice stance, it encourages me to keep going!

When the Rubber Meets the Road: Sermon for 12th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 16)

2009-08-23T17:24:00.002-04:00

I have come to the conclusion that pastors should be careful what they preach about in the pulpit on Sunday mornings…because you never know when it might come back to bite you. Or, rather, you never know when exactly what you profess on Sunday morning will be directly challenged, even as soon as you drive away from the church building after worship.

Last Sunday, I mentioned in my sermon, just a brief statement, almost an aside, that I hoped that perhaps part of the purpose of the sermon could be that during the week you might be reminded to be kind when you’d rather not be, for example, in traffic. I think my exact words were that the sermon “might help you decide to take a deep breath and be kind to someone in traffic when you’d rather just lay on the horn.”

Do you know how many people cut me off in traffic on the way home from church last Sunday? And quite a few of them were the ones that sneak in there ahead of you, make you slam on your brakes, and then proceed to drive at least 5 or 10 miles BELOW the speed limit! And they’re also the ones you can’t get rid of. Every turn you need to make, they make, too. You try to think of alternate routes so you can get away from them, but there aren’t any. You are stuck, and seething, and ready to just tap on the horn just to let them know that you’re not happy and then – wait – you remember the sermon. Or, in my case, I remember the words that I preached. Didn’t even listen to someone else saying them; Oh, no, it was me who said them.

This is not the first time that something of this nature has happened to me, that the words I’ve preached on a Sunday morning have come directly back to look me in the face, either later on Sunday, or later that week. Especially with my family.

One of my good friends said one time that all the work that you do on your own self and your way of living and your choices to change bad behaviors gets especially challenged, and is the hardest to live out, when you walk through the door at home to see your family at the end of the day. You can walk around all day feeling very self-actualized and enlightened, and then the sight of muddy footprints on the kitchen floor can send you over the edge at dinnertime.

Another author tells a story about how she spends time in prayer and meditation each morning, and one morning she was feeling particularly refreshed and ready for the day, till she went into the bathroom and stepped—in her socks—into a puddle of water left by one of her teenaged sons after he had showered. Then she shrieked like a banshee and wondered if all that prayer was for naught.

Today’s Scripture lessons offer us a few opportunities to consider the ways that the rubber meets the road in our spiritual lives, and by extension, our practical lives. From the Old Testament, we have the lesson in Joshua that brings us the familiar phrase, “As for me and my house[hold], we will serve the Lord.” The passage tells us that Joshua gathered all the tribes of Israel, and told the people that they needed to “revere the Lord, and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness.” He told them to put aside the pagan gods they had been worshiping when they were still in Egypt, and now to serve the Lord God, Yahweh.

Joshua gave them a choice, saying: “Now, if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether [you will serve] the gods your ancestors served…but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”

Then in the Gospel lesson for today, Jesus offers some confusing words, discussing the symbolic and spiritual nature of eating his flesh and drinking his blood, and those who hear him, including many of his newer followers, say, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” And Jesus responds, “Does this offend you? … The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But among you there are some who do not believe.” The Scripture tells us that “Jesus knew from the first who were the ones that did not believe, and who was the one that would betray him.”

Two parallel options of choices about what to believe; who to believe in. Certainly, there is a difference. The Israelites in the Joshua passage didn’t know about Jesus yet; their choice was about serving Yahweh over serving their pagan gods. The disciples, who, by the way, were more than just the 12 that Jesus started with, were being asked whether they could buy into Jesus’ spiritual teachings, which were very difficult and obtuse, or if they would prefer to turn away from him and go back to their lives as they knew them before they started following Jesus.

We have two different outcomes: in Joshua, we see the people responding to the challenge with these words: “Far be it from us that we should forsake the Lord to serve other gods; for it is the Lord our God who brought us and our ancestors up from the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, and who did those great signs in our sight. He protected us along all the way that we went, and among all the peoples through whom we passed; and the Lord drove out before us all the peoples, the Amorites who lived in the land. Therefore we will also serve the Lord, for he is our God.”

Whereas the Gospel lesson gives us a different reaction to Jesus’ confrontation. The Scripture says that “because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. So Jesus asked the twelve, ‘Do you also wish to go away?’” Now, of the twelve, their reaction is one of trust and steadfastness: “Simon Peter answered him, ‘Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.’”

In other words, Simon Peter says, What you are teaching IS difficult; you challenge us all the time; you make us a little bit crazy; you ask us to do things we sometimes think are impossible…and YET, who else can we follow? No one else offers what you offer; no one else knows us the way you know us; no one else loves us the way you love us; no one else speaks the words of truth to us the way you do. “You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

Those of us who follow Christ today don’t do it because it is easy. We might find ourselves sometimes wanting to be like the ones who walked away, who threw in the towel and said, “This is too difficult. Who needs it?” The Gospel lessons give us countless challenges, asking us to be more loving, be more caring, give more of ourselves, be more patient, more forgiving, more spirit-filled, less materialistic. We’re not to hold grudges, we’re not to hoard our stuff, we’re not to turn anyone away when they ask for our help. Some days, it all seems like too much! And then, as soon as we think we’ve got it right, or at least that we’re on the right track, that slow driver cuts us off, or our kids spill their milk, or wreck the car, or worse! And what does God expect from us? Are we supposed to be perfect, and just turn the other cheek, or smile and say “No worries,” or get out the checkbook and pay for the repairs?

I think that Jesus, and in turn, God, understands our frustration. The challenge is not to stop ever getting frustrated about anything ever again. And I also don’t think that the Scriptures are asking us to be a bunch of holy (that’s H-O-L-Y) doormats. I think there is a balance. We make the pledge: “As for me and my house, WE will serve the Lord.” We commit to Jesus; we mull over the difficult teachings, squeezing from them what we can apply to our lives right now, and storing the rest in our hearts and minds as we continue to seek to understand them better.

Even though I’m sure some could read today’s Gospel lesson with an eye to the ultimatum presented and see it as an all-or-nothing challenge, when Jesus says, “I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father,” I think what Jesus is really putting back to the disciples is that choice, that they need to be the ones to turn to God, and in turn, meet Jesus through him.

Life gives us plenty of opportunities to live out what we proclaim to believe. It is not so much a test as it is just a way of life. Maybe we notice the challenges after we’ve asserted something, just because we’re more aware and conscious. Or maybe life really brings challenges our way to either strengthen our resolve or cause us to recalibrate. No matter which way we look at the challenges, we know that God accompanies us on our path. We are not alone in striving to be who we’re meant to be. We’re not alone in living out our faith commitments. Whether it’s the proclamation that our household will be serving God above all else, or the affirmation that we will follow Jesus, even though the teachings are difficult and might ask a lot of us, we’re not doing any of it by ourselves.

There is a poem called “I’m a Christian,” by Carol Wimmer, that details out the real reasons we need the church and Christ: not that we’re already perfect because of our faith, but that we’re always working on it. Here are a few stanzas:

When I say "I am a Christian,"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble,
And need CHRIST to be my guide.

When I say ... "I am a Christian,"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak,
And need HIS strength to carry on.

When I say ... "I am a Christian,"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed,
And need God to clean my mess.

When I say ... "I am a Christian,"
I'm not claiming to be perfect.
My flaws are far too visible,
But God believes I am worth it.

So, what happens when the rubber meets the road? It’s not a test of right or wrong; not a judgment of heaven or hell. When the rubber meets the road, we profess and affirm what we believe with our hearts and our lips. Then we get to the task of living it out. Amen.

from around...

2009-08-22T08:06:00.002-04:00

Disclaimer: Only the quotes were supposed to be in italics on this post. Yet, somehow Blogger thinks I would like everything to be in italics. I can't make it stop! So, please read on and disregard the funky formatting for today...

"Here’s the bottom line: our churches are supposed to be challenging, not charming. We are supposed to be saving the world, not preserving nostalgia. In a broken and hurting world, whether or not our buildings have authentic period-appropriate copper gutters sometimes strikes me as a pretentious concern of rich over-educated white people. A church is a mission, not a museum."

A great quote from a great post over at Creatio Ex Nihilo: Ideas from Don Heatley's Spiritual Journey.

Another great post you should check out is this one, entitled "Woo woo, then laundry, then more woo woo" at Voila! with Bridget Pilloud. I love that she speaks to the fact that we are always doing sacred acts in the middle of the mundane...so true.

So, check them out! (And sorry again about the italics, and now, apparently, the bold font as well...)

how do we see?

2009-08-20T12:26:00.004-04:00

I am probably way behind the eight-ball with this one, but a friend of mine sent me an email with the following content:

Perception

Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes.. During that time approx. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:

The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk..

6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.

45 minutes:

The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities. The questions raised: in a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made.... How many other things are we missing?

One of the things that gave me pause when reading the email was the fact that the people who wanted to stop and watch him play were children. I know how many times I have rushed my son along when I am running late for something, or when he has practically screamed at me in the car to get my attention and show me something he sees.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could be mindful of all that is before us all the time? Even 50% of the time? That is my prayer for today...
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html

"God has no expectations of you"

2009-08-17T15:48:00.009-04:00

I just started reading this book: Contemplative Youth Ministry by Mark Yaconelli. I remember one of my profs in seminary talked about Yaconelli and spoke very highly of him. Then Jonny Baker recommended this book at a Continuing Ed workshop I did a few months ago. So, I picked it up after I had a few dollars to my name again, and I am in love! It speaks so directly to the type of youth ministry I think is necessary, and this particular passage brought me to tears last night as I was reading it:

...After a couple of hours, we were winding down...I blurted out, "So am I having a breakdown or not?" Morton paused, smiled at me, and then said, "Well, what do you think? You seem calm, comfortable, and open. Do those seem like the signs of someone having a breakdown?" I had to admit I was feeling a sense of rest and relief that was new and attractive. He said, "Mark, my guess is you had some encounter with God's love, and maybe now you can believe God has no expectations of you."

I know this is a bit out of context, and I apologize if it's confusing, but this idea that God loves us, just as we are, that God doesn't need us to be scrambling around *doing* things all the time, planning programs, making appointments, scheduling meetings...God wants to be in relationship with us, wants us to know how much God loves us, wants us to share God's love by being in relationship with others. So, so powerful. Thank you, Mark Yaconelli, for reminding me about it.

seeing Jesus in my son

2009-08-07T10:38:00.003-04:00

I have to admit, and it almost brings tears to my eyes to do it, but I must, that my almost-3-year-old son has been working on almost every. single. one. of my nerves lately. When I was a little girl, my mom would curse me with the words, "Someday, I hope you have a daughter just like you!" and, well, I don't necessarily think my daughter is cut from exactly the same cloth, but, whoo, boy! my son is just like me. In fact, while we were scrapping the other day, my husband said, "You two were made for each other."

That's all well and good, and even sweet when you write about it, but it's DIFFICULT in real life! Even earlier this week, when he was sick, I found myself more annoyed with him than ever, prompting my mother to look at me sideways, a look that clearly said, "Wow, you are the most un-compassionate mother ever." Actually, I don't know if she really meant it that way, but that's what I saw in her look. She was able to look at him and how pitiful he was with his little puffed-out lip (he had hand, foot, and mouth disease and got the little sores the worst between his lower lip and gums) and have compassion on him. Of course, she also wasn't the one who was up with him almost the entire night before, thinking that because he was sick he should be sleeping extra-well, but instead he bounced back and forth all night between his bed and mine, crawling all over me, scratching me when I didn't comply with his requests for proper positioning, and smacking me full-on on the head in the morning when he was ready to get up and I wasn't.

As I write this now, I am sitting at Panera, getting ready to dive into finishing my sermon for this Sunday. Yesterday, when I found out that a parishioner was in the hospital, I knew that the sermon wasn't going to get done and that I would need to utilize daycare today instead of having the day off and at home with the kids. I'll tell you the first thing I felt: RELIEF. And then, about 2.5 seconds later, GUILT. I should WANT to be home with my kids, right? Because otherwise, in the words of a former parishioner, Why did I have them, then? (She was half-joking, and you'd have to know her, so she wasn't being entirely evil.)

I'm finding parenting wee ones to be troublesome right now, especially with Jack. He is just such a handful. Yet, when I read this post at Process & Faith, I had a moment of clarity, or at least of possibility. Imagine if I could learn to see Jesus in my son. If I could learn to see that in the midst of all his difficulties, his strong-willed-ness, his obstinate nature and occasional hurtful physical outbursts, he still embodies Christ.

I especially took a breath at these words:

"...we literally encounter Christ in everyone we meet. When we see Christ in family, friends, and strangers, our relationships are transformed; they become opportunities for supporting, nurturing, and building up one another. No encounter is unimportant, because Christ always meets us in the “least of these” – in refugees from war-torn lands, harried store clerks, undocumented workers, persons with mental illness – as well as familiar companions – stressed-out partners, playful children and grandchildren, and difficult congregants. This is the meaning of 'lived omnipresence,' which is at the heart of process theology. God is present in everyone and can be experienced in our encounters with everyone."

Here's hoping that I can somehow see the person of Christ in the person of Jack, and that, perhaps, our relationship can be transformed.

argh

2009-08-06T10:18:00.003-04:00

Facebook and Twitter are BOTH down! ARGH! Where can I post my meandering thoughts? Well, I suppose...here! Just needed a place to say that. See y'all later when I have something of more substance to post...

a quote to chew on as we look toward another Sunday...

2009-08-03T09:49:00.003-04:00

"...the pastor's task is to gather people together every Sunday, center each week in a response to the risen Lord, and nurture a participation in the resurrection life in Christ that works as well on any Wednesday afternoon at 5 o'clock as on Easter at sunrise."

~Eugene Peterson, Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work

random baby shoe lust

2009-07-31T21:59:00.004-04:00

I've been feeling bad that I didn't post that much this week, so, here's one for you: it's totally not related to ministry, but I knew I shouldn't have clicked the link in the email that I got from See Kai Run. You see why?

I had several pairs for Jack, and now he's beyond their normal line, and they hadn't created the "Smaller" line when he was that small (thank you Jesus, my wallet is very glad about that.)

But, alas, I have discovered them for Irene, and I already have more than she needs.

I'm sure this pair is going to just add to the shoe chaos, and the money-spending. Good thing I'm working full-time again!

(And just in case you're wondering, I am not getting any money to write about this -- it's a combination of lack-of-posting guilt and baby-shoe-drooling that is compelling me to do this. However, if the good people at See Kai Run are feeling generous....ahem....)

Baby Steps

2009-07-28T11:33:00.002-04:00

I admit it, I'm having a little bit of a hard time adjusting. I am feeling like I should be moving mountains and doing great things just because I began as the sole pastor at a new church one week ago. Even with in that sentence, there is so much wrong! Of COURSE I should not be doing it all just in this one week!

But I've always been this way. I was telling a senior colleague yesterday that I remember the first day of ninth grade, when my class moved to the senior high school, I went home disappointed that I had not made any new upperclassmen friends. I had heard that ninth graders could become friends with upperclassmen, and darnit, I though it should happen right away!

I know it takes time. And apparently God/the Universe wants to help me know that. In the span of two minutes, I read the following two emails. The first is from sojo.net (the only Sojourners site) from their daily Verse & Voice mailing (which you can subscribe to here if you're so inclined.) It always includes a Bible verse and a quote from a theologian or religious thinker. Today's quote was the following from Joan Chittister:

"Every spiritual master in every tradition talks about the significance of small things in a complex world. Small actions in social life, small efforts in the spiritual life, small moments in the personal life. All of them become great in the long run, the mystics say, but all of them look like little or nothing in themselves."

The other email was my Daily Kabbalah Tune-Up from The Kabbalah Centre. I love this daily email; it has some of the most real-world, profound advice, and it's high-quality EVERY DAY. Today's said this:

"'Change the world' is the rallying cry of our generation. But the big secret is, because we are all connected, nothing outside changes until the inside changes. Working on correcting our personal flaws is what leads to global change.

Let this paradox sink in: The more you want to change the world, the more you have to change yourself. Today, focus on one tiny thing you can improve about yourself — or at least begin to work on."

I need to just relax. Just trust. There will be work to do, there will be projects, there will be people to sit with and there will be ideas that God will bring that I don't even know about yet. It's only been a week. Every day I am meeting new people, I am learning more about them, I am merging into their community. Thank you God for reminding me that I don't have to do it all by myself, and that I don't have to do it all in capital letters, all the time.

Gracious Receiving

2009-07-24T08:57:00.003-04:00

I have been thinking about posting something about graciously receiving since reading the discussion on churches holding baby or wedding showers for pastors, which was yesterday's Ask the Matriarch question over at RevGalBlogPals. That article was mostly about receiving gifts, and whether or not it is appropriate for a pastor to do so in the church context. GREAT discussion and ideas in the post itself AND in the comments! I highly recommend you take a look.

Reading the post and discussion had me thinking about gracious receiving in all its iterations, including that of compliments. And, by no mere coincidence, I actually read the email I got from DailyOM from Wednesday, and it was about "Receiving a Gift with Grace." You can read it here.

I learned about gracious receiving in great part from my friend Jen, who was a member of the church where I served as Interim Youth Director during seminary. She is one of the people in my life who has the best boundaries, who is very self-aware, who is capable of graciously stepping aside from duties she's been saddled with if she is feeling overwhelmed. She is also one of the most generous people I know -- she's the one who will go to the ends of the earth to get me exactly what I want for my birthday, and the summer before my third year of seminary when I was just about flat broke at all times, she took me out to delicious dinners and paid for me to paint pottery so we could hang out together while doing it. Even now that I am a *bit* more financially stable, she'll often grab the check when we have lunch or dinner together. She has taught me not to argue when someone wants to give you a gift, no matter how small or large (though of course the concerns about whether the gift is a tool of manipulation in a congregational setting apply...there are always exceptions to the rule.)

Jen also taught me that even if you are not happy with how you've performed, if someone wants to give you a compliment, you should accept it with grace, even if you feel unworthy. One Sunday, I sang a solo in the church, and I did quite a job on the high notes; it was a very less-than-stellar musical offering, to say the least. But the pastor complimented me and thanked me for my gift of music, and I remember giving a sort of wincing smile (in front of the whole congregation). After the service, Jen gave me a short, but effective, tongue-lashing, reminding me that if a compliment is paid, I should receive it with a smile and not rebuff the giver by shooing away the praise.

So, the article in the DailyOM about the transfer of energy when a compliment is received seemed especially poignant given what I have learned about how to handle another's generosity, whether it is with a physical token of appreciation or with a gift of verbal praise. It seems like a small thing, but especially in the context of serving a congregation, being able to graciously receive their compliments, whether on my preaching, my music, or my leadership, has been a life-changing experience. It allows me to open my heart to what the people want to say to me, and it also allows me to feel confident in my abilities (so that when the inevitable NON-compliment comes my way, I can handle it better.) Even small physical gifts have been received, and I have learned to return a gift in the form of sincere gratitude. It is a beautiful, circular exchange of positive energy!

Belly Dancing in the Chapel!

2009-07-22T15:37:00.002-04:00

There are moments in ministry where it is just absurd. Absurd, I tell you!

Now, I often find absurdity in life, but sometimes, for whatever reason, I find more absurdity in ministry, probably because the reality can veer so far from the expectations.

Today's example is mostly silly, of course.

I began at my new call on Monday of this week. We have quite a few members (proportionally) in a nearby retirement community/assisted living facility. So today, I went to visit there, thinking that I would get to visit a WHOLE bunch of people since they're all in the same unit. And you know where they were? In their rooms? Nooooo....they were in the chapel. Watching belly dancers. In the chapel! Absurdity!

So I went to visit the one woman who was in the dementia unit. There, they were having their monthly birthday party. So I got to sit with her and chat, but I left before the cupcakes were served. Didn't want to be seen as a mooch.

When I walked back past the chapel, I asked if the chaplain was around (because I know him.) They said he wasn't in his office, but since the belly dancers were being televised (!) on the closed-circuit channel (!), he had seen it and had called in to complain that a banner with the phrase "My cup runneth over" was included in the shot.

Hilarity, I tell you! Hilarity and absurdity!

And all this on my third day...

My Toddler Understands the Healthcare System

2009-07-22T07:57:00.003-04:00

This morning my son put his Fisher-Price blood pressure cuff around my wrist.

"Hold it, and I'm gonna pump," he said. Then he paused. "Two dollars."

Reaching for the squeezy pump, he paused again. "Three dollars."

I pretended to give him money.

Then he started to pump.

I think he knows how this works.

You Are the Message

2009-07-08T09:37:00.002-04:00

You should check out this piece on Jonny Baker's blog. It's just a short little wrap-up piece about the week when he was teaching at Lancaster Theological Seminary (of which I am an alum) this past summer for the Summer Academy (hey, we'll give Bruce Epperly and the gang a little bit of free publicity).

The picture that Jonny took is amazing! It's the pictures like this that make the worship he creates so fabulous. Has inspired me to try to keep a camera with me at all times so I can snap amazing shots (I can only hope) and eventually use them at some point...maybe in blogging?!

However, I think my son just broke my camera while I was writing this post, so my acquisition of a skinny-mini camera to tuck into my purse may have to come sooner than later...

RevGals Friday Five: Closet Case

2009-07-03T20:58:00.002-04:00

Okay, it's my first chance to play Friday Five since joining RevGalBlogPals, and I want to make sure I get the chance to play before going on vacation! (Also, packing for vacation is a great way to get thinking about all the crap you usually keep in your closet and how much you actually NEED...)

Today's questions:

1. Are you a hoarder, or are you good at sorting and clearing?
Little bit of both? I try really hard to keep my closet edited, but I have those things I just can't let go of. For example, I AM going to fit back into my "skinny" jeans someday, after I'm done having kids and whatnot. They're about two sizes smaller than I am right now, but they are definitely my goal jeans, and I think they're realistic. I try to use some of FlyLady's methods to help me sort through my closet, and I love the feeling of taking a big bag to one of the Salvation Army receptacles nearby. It's just that sometimes when I sort, I have trouble saying goodbye to something that's probably been in my closet for longer than necessary.

2. What is the oddest garment you possess and why?
Hmmm...oddest...I'm going to bring my husband in on this one, because I really don't have too many odd things. I really have tried to edit out the crazy, never-gonna-wear-it odd stuff. However, he hangs onto things more than I do, including 4 insanely ugly (I would love to show pictures if I weren't in the throes of packing for the beach) Hawaiian floral shirts that he won't throw away because "his grandma gave them to him and they hold sentimental value." Seriously. If you knew my husband, you'd know that's a bunch of bunk. He actually likes them. That's the scary thing.

3. Do you have a favourite look/colour?
I admit, I have a lot of black and grey. You just can't go wrong. I'm really trying to edit my closet so that I have a "look" to some degree, and that I have some classy pieces. My goal, once I begin at my full-time call, is to purchase some nice J.Crew cashmere after I start getting larger regular paychecks (an increase from working part-time for the last 7 months or so.) I think I look pretty decent in winter, with lots of nice sweaters and good pants, but in summer my look kind of goes downhill with too many flimsy t-shirts. I want to do more pulled-together short-sleeved sweaters and shells, and nice capris or long pants, not so many jeans and t-shirts when I'm trying to be professional!

4. Thrift/ Charity shops, love them or hate them?
I don't hate them, but I don't frequent them. I have some good friends who've gotten tremendous buys, but I am not a digger, and so I often avoid them unless I'm really in the mood to hunt for something good. It would probably be worth my time to become more frequent at them, though, even for household items. My friend just found a brand-new Kitchenaid stand mixer for only $100 at our local Goodwill!

5. Money is no object, what one item would you buy?
Well, I am going to say this even though I don't even know if I'd like them...but I've heard so much about Lanvin flats that I'd have to splurge on a pair. I would hope that they'd fit my feet nicely and be like walking on clouds and all the lovely things that people say about them. (If they didn't work out, I might have to chase down a Marc Jacobs bag.)

Well, I hope I made a decent go of the Friday Five! Looking forward to playing again in two weeks -- you probably won't hear much from me until at least next Saturday, if not later in the week of July 13th.

Blessings to everyone on the 4th of July weekend!

Singer in My Soul

2009-07-03T08:55:00.002-04:00

I think my brain is completely empty lately. Maybe it's the moving on from one place to another (though not yet, so I'm definitely in the "in between" time). Maybe it's that we leave for vacation tomorrow so I'm all twisted up with vacation-planning thinking and worries about whether or not I will forget anything (and HUGE amounts of negative brain power wasted thinking about how awful I'll look in a bathing suit this year). But anyway....

I offer up this poem/prayer by Joyce Rupp from Prayers to Sophia for nourishment both for myself and any readers this morning:

"Singer in My Soul"

Singer in my Soul!
I long for your song
in my empty heart.
Is there a place
where you can hang
your notes?
If not, whisper them,
in the thin air.

Chant little threads
of your wisdom
in the hollow spaces
of my emptiness.

Sing me the old stories
that strengthen me,
stories of your beauty,
tales of your compassion.

Enter into my day
with the tender press
of your unfailing love.

Singer in my Soul,
arouse my listless spirit
with the sweet sound
of your hidden presence,
and the gracious melody
of your continual kindness.

"There is a spirit in her that is...irresistible, beneficent, humane, steadfast, sure."
~Wisdom 7:22

Impressing Myself

2009-06-29T22:32:00.003-04:00

Well, who'da thunk it (or how do you write that, anyway?)? I actually wrote some good posts back in the day when I didn't "really" blog. I'm kind of impressing myself right now just reading them. So I think I'll refer you to them and see if you're also impressed (not really, who knows...but at least it'll give you something to do if you're bored.)

This one about a particularly awful church meeting.

This one about a quote that applies to both environmentalism and ministry.

And, this one, a rant about toy recalls back from the days when Jack, who is now a toddler, was a little bitty and referred to as "Baby J."

Happy reading!

Farewell Message

2009-06-28T16:55:00.006-04:00

Here is the message I preached at church this morning: shorter than the normal message, but it was a good thing because I did get emotional. I realize this may not be interesting reading for everybody, but I thought I'd share anyway :)

**************************************************************************************************

This has been one of the hardest sermons for me to write, ever. I think it’s mostly because I don’t want to say goodbye. As I mentioned in the letters that I’ve written, in the newsletter and the one that was mailed to members, I am looking forward to my next endeavor, my first full-time sole pastorate with St. Peter’s Lischey’s in Spring Grove…but I would like it if I could just close my eyes and click my heels and be there without the messiness of moving and the tasks of packing up, and the especially hard task of saying goodbye.

However, I do believe there is sacredness in being intentional about everything we do in life, and that includes saying goodbye. There is closure and an important sense of the moment when we take the time to say a proper goodbye, instead of just rushing off to the next thing.

In the Gospel lesson for this morning, we have a healing within a healing. We have Jesus being approached by Jairus, one of the leaders of the synagogue, whose daughter is so ill he fears that she has died. While Jesus is on his way to Jairus’ house, another healing happens. This is the healing of the hemorrhaging woman, who we might also know in more modern language as a woman who the Gospel says has been menstruating continuously for 12 years. In the language of the temple and according to purity laws, she should probably not have been among the crowd; she certainly “shouldn’t” have touched Jesus. But she had faith and the conviction that “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.” And it was so.

And Jesus knew that he had been touched—he felt a healing power go out from him and he asked who had touched him. Even in the midst of a crowd of people bumping and jostling up against him, he knew that this was a different kind of touch, one that had a different level of meaning and significance, where something had really happened, not just an unintentional nudge by someone rushing past.

It never really struck me in this passage until reading it this week that the healing of the woman happened while Jesus was on his way to do another healing. And so I’ve been thinking that we are all, like Jesus in the midst of the crowd, on our way to somewhere else. And for me as a pastor, I have to say that ministry is a bit like that at times. Ministry involves being on the way to something, whether it is a meeting, or planning worship, or making visits, and in the midst of being on the way, often something profound happens. Someone touches us, the ones who are supposedly set aside to touch others, and we are ministered to through the grace of God; or we somehow allow God and the Holy Spirit to move through us in a new and different way and have the chance to minister to someone who maybe, in all honesty, we hadn’t really planned on ministering to that day.

So much of what has happened here at St. John’s during the more than two and a half years since I began has been intentional, and planned, and so much has been of this other, more unexpected variety, where I’ve been touched when I thought I was on my way to somewhere else.

I learned about how much ministry could be done through the administration of the church; when I was working in the office I had the chance to get to know members of the congregation more deeply and with more regularity than I may have if I was only part-time as the assistant pastor for this whole time.

I learned how friendly and caring the congregation of St. John’s is—you not only offer up the serve, you do follow through. My first experience was coming here as a visitor when Pastor David was giving me more information about the Assistant Pastor position. He invited me to a Sunday service, but failed to let me know that it was Red, White, & Blue Sunday; you may have heard me tell this before…so I think I was wearing pink, and Don was wearing green, and of course we stuck out like visitors…but we probably would have anyway! Everyone was so friendly to us; helping us with the hymnals, just greeting us because we were unfamiliar faces. It was really impressive because that summer we had been visiting some other churches and did NOT experience that level of friendliness in many of the congregations we visited.

And the follow-through came quite quickly after that; I started working here when I was just about eight weeks from giving birth to Jack, and I remember the outpouring of cards that flowed after he was born.

Before Irene was born this past winter, I was rearranging rooms in our house and moved a box of those cards that were sent after Jack’s birth, and I know that when the cards initially arrived, they were signed with names of people I didn’t know very well yet, but when I read them through this winter, I knew every single person, and I knew of the love that you had shared with me and my family even when you barely knew us.

And certainly when Irene was born; the care and compassion given to us leading us to her birth and following was just tremendous, and made us feel like a real part of the family.

I think one of the hardest things about leaving will be moving our children to a new church from one where they have been so well-cared for. I hope that it is part of the culture at St. Peter’s Lischey’s to care for them as well as all the children here are, and I trust that it will be true.

On the Saturday prior to my trial sermon, when Lischey’s had an open house for the members to meet me and my family, we had told Jack that we were going to be spending the day at “mommy’s new church” (keeping our fingers crossed that we weren’t being too presumptuous.) One of the things he said that day that I will never forget was, “Is Jesus going to be there?” Of course, the reason that he asked if Jesus was going to be at church is because he knows that Jesus is here at this church. This is the place where he has learned about Jesus; we haven’t really delved into the life and times of Jesus in lessons yet at home (though we did touch on the resurrection the other day, not sure how well that went over…), so I know that he got it from Sunday school and nursery time here at St. John’s.

On the Sunday prior to my trial sermon, where we all got quite emotional, one of the things that brought me to tears was moving Jack and Irene away from this, their very first nest as newborn Christians, where they have been loved and held and taught. And I am so very grateful to everyone for that. You know the way to a mother is through her children, and this congregation will forever have a special place in my heart not only because of the love you have shown me but because of that very special love you have shown my little ones.

You have healed my heart and ministered to me in ways that I can’t even explain, and I’m going to keep this message short because by now I’m probably emotional, and we’ve chosen the hymn to give the essence of the Gospel lesson since I’m not really telling the whole story in sermon today.

As we’ve been on our way together, I trust that we have both grown and stretched, that we have nurtured each other and taught each other some lessons that we’ve all needed along the way. Now our paths will diverge, but will not separate completely. The beauty of the United Church of Christ, and York County, means that we will stay connected, collegially and spiritually.

I wish all of you amazing, manifold blessings in your lives and on your journeys with Christ. And I thank you many, many times over for the experience of ministry that you have given me here. Thanks be to God. Amen.

read it

2009-06-27T09:42:00.002-04:00

This is an absolutely beautiful poem on death and grief and faith.

You should go read it. Right now. Please!

It's Not About the Boxes

2009-06-23T07:12:00.002-04:00

I've got myself all in a tangle right now. I am irritated because I know that I had quite a few nice boxes for packing things -- you know the copier paper boxes that are nice and solid and have lids? Well, as I looked for them and couldn't find them, I realized that apparently I gave them to my dad (as if he needs anymore boxes. If you saw his house, you would appreciate this.)

As I'm sitting here stewing, I'm realizing more and more, it's not about the boxes. It's about the fact that I need to use the boxes to pack up my office at the church where I'm currently working to get ready to move to a new position at a new church. This is an exciting transition -- but it IS a transition, and I'm no good at them. It's a bittersweet move this time anyway; it's not like I'm so miserable where I am that I just can't wait to get out of there. It's a pretty good gig, I'm just moving on to a new adventure where I know God has led me. Yet, I still have to pack first.

It's not so bad, I have about four shelves of books, some files--probably 90% of which I won't be bringing unless they provide a template for something I'll be doing in the new place. So, over the next two weeks I just need to weed through everything and take what's mine, and leave the rest. Pitch some, pack some, store some away, leave the rest and say to the church, all of this stuff is still yours, it's not mine. I don't have to find a home for every errant scrap of fabric that has found its way into my office; I don't have to personally place every single thing in its perfect home, especially if it was in my space when I got there. I just need to pack up what I own and move on. And I think that's getting to me. I thought it was all good, but between this grouching over the boxes and the fact that I haven't a clue what I want to say to the people this Sunday when I preach (why am I preaching my last Sunday? why did I agree to this?), I know that it's getting to me. It's not about the boxes.

Choices and Being Conscious

2009-06-21T16:20:00.002-04:00

This is just a quick little jotting on an observation I made today (at least I think I made this observation; I'm still fleshing it out in my head.)

There's something about the awareness that what you do is a CHOICE that leads to a higher consciousness about your life. I know I'm on the verge of a discovery with this one, it's just on the tip of my mind, like when a word is on the tip of your tongue.

I've always been attracted to people (not romantically, but in that I-want-to-be-around-you-all-the-time-and-learn-from-you sort of way) who own their choices and who don't whine about being put-upon (even when I'm whining TO them) and who stop when they've had enough and don't overextend themselves. (And when they do overextend themselves, they don't act like martyrs, but instead know that they were the ones who made the choice to overextend themselves, even if it didn't feel like it at the moment.)

Add that attraction and impression of others to what I'm learning about parenting, where offering choices to a very strong-willed toddler is often the only way to make peace in any given situation, and I'm learning how strong the power of choice is.

The trick is, we have to acknowledge and own that WE CHOOSE. I'm reminded of the Sex and the City episode where Charlotte yells, "I choose my choice! I choose my choice!"

I think the thing that is unfortunate (and, to be honest, irritating to me -- which I know also means something) about people who don't acknowledge that their own choices have contributed to their life situation is that they're just going through life so unconscious of what is happening to them. I probably see a decent amount of myself in them, which is the cause for my irritation, and it's also because of my constant striving to be conscious, which of course is not foolproof.

So, the bottom line to this long and winding post...I'm committing to watching myself make the choices I make, and to take ownership for those choices; I think this will lead to even greater consciousness in my life and awareness of the things that I do, and the knowledge that the choices I've made have brought me to where I am today.

If you feel like, let me know what you think, and if I'm on the right track or not!

Durnit.

2009-06-20T07:57:00.001-04:00

Ugh, I am such a bad blogger! The "relaunch" of my blog was supposed to occur on Mother's Day, and tomorrow will be Father's Day...I've posted all of TWO TIMES since then! If there are any dear readers out there, I promise I will try to post more often, I really really will!

It's a Hippo-Eat-Dog World in the Playroom

2009-05-30T08:17:00.001-04:00

This is what I found when I went into the playroom this morning. Who knows what was occurring while we were all sleeping....

The Relaunch: Mother's Day

2009-05-10T16:10:00.003-04:00

Here is a little talk I wrote for church this morning. I'm using it to relaunch my blog (so to speak.) I'm relaunching because I think that having a blog to post to will help encourage me to get more writing done, and have an outlet for it. I have a lot of work to do on adjusting the sidebars and all that organizational stuff because I doubt I'll be posting much of anything about knitting anymore. And feel free to mine the archives for all kinds of nonsense -- who knows what's in there?!?!

Any new readers from Twitter, if you were brave enough to click the link I tweeted, welcome! Let's see if this is the beginning of a new journey or just a moment in the clouds together :)

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I am always sensitive in my preaching to not go on and on about my children or about motherhood. I know that people don’t want to hear about it every time I get into the pulpit and I know that there are people in the congregation who either don’t care for children and tales of their escapades, or who wanted to have a family and didn’t or couldn’t, or who just get bored hearing about the antics of the same old kids time after time. But apparently today I am allowed to gush about my little ones and how they have affected me, so I want to share some things with you about how motherhood has changed my life and also impacted my faith.

I believe that God has all manner of experiences and encounters and opportunities that he can use to teach us the lessons that we need to know throughout life—and those lessons are learned in different ways by different people, and we are each as different as every snowflake that falls and every blade of grass. And I also believe that although motherhood is for many a biological reality, and of course all of us here today had mothers, at least biologically, one can be a mother without bearing a child from her womb.

You can be a mother if you have literally adopted a baby, or if you are a godmother, or if you are an auntie, or if you are one of the many members of any village that it takes to raise a child, even though we no longer live in villages. You have been a mother if you’ve answered a call from a frantic neighbor with a new baby, and offered her an hour of sleep while you rock and walk and bounce the little one. You have been a mother if you’ve walked beside a teenager, allowing them to share things with you that they just can’t bear to tell their parents, and have helped to lead them in the right direction. Being a mother, or like a mother, can teach us all so many things.

For me, it has taught me many lessons already (with many more in store, I’m sure), and has been a tool that I believe God has used to help me learn more about myself and the world, and about God. One of my friends said to me right before Jack was born, “Well, now you get to really be a grown-up.” While I believe that at some point, we all turn into grown-ups if we live long enough, for me it really has been true that having a family has helped me grow and mature, both in my personhood and in my faith.

Growing up, it was always my sister who was referred to as being “good with kids,” or “kid-friendly,” or “the fun one.” I was more cerebral, always wanting to talk to the adults, not the first one to give my little cousins a piggy-back ride or play tag in the lawn. So I got the impression that I was “not-good-with-kids” and perhaps not even nurturing.

To my surprise, I think I am actually a pretty good mom, though! I can’t raise a houseplant to save my life and I’m still not the best one to play Legos with for hours on end, but I love my children and I think motherhood has come a bit more naturally to me than even I expected.

Here are some things I have learned about being a mom, about having children. Hopefully at least one of the things I’m about to say will resonate with you, whether you’re also a mom or not. These thoughts are both serious and irreverent, and presented in no particular order:

Being a mother means learning to operate on a constant, underlying level of exhaustion, and to wonder what you did with all the excess energy you had to have had before becoming a mom.

Being a mother means that from the moment you learn that a bundle of cells is growing inside your body to become a child, your heart learns to expand exponentially with love.

It means understanding why sometimes the only way your mom could communicate with you was through clenched teeth and with her fingers grasping the fleshy underside of your arm, as in, “If you don’t move over here and stop doing that right now, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

Being a mother means understanding how you can both simultaneously love someone to bits and be so irritated with them and their behavior, in the same moment.

It means sneaking into your child’s room at night after an especially hard day just to watch them sleeping so peacefully.

It means watching the faces they make in the moments of newborn sleep and feeling your heart hurt when they make what is only an involuntary frown, because it just looks so sad.

It means completely understanding why car seats are so important for safety, but being so frustrated that the baby has to ride in one because it equates to shrieking from the backseat on car rides.

It means realizing why sometimes the only answer is “Because” when your child is in the “why?” phase of being a toddler. You can only explain things so far down to their root cause.

It means opening your heart to another human being who, though so small, has the power to hold you in the palm of their little hand.

It means allowing cheddar Pepperidge Farm goldfish for breakfast if that’s really the only thing that is going to get this child to change out of pajamas for the day.

It means being amazed that this new little baby needs you so much, knows who you are, and clings to you so tightly, even though you’ve just met.

It means a brand new level of vulnerability, sometimes physically painful in the center of your chest.

It means a new appreciation for the satisfaction of a good belch when you know it’s the only thing that is going to bring this child comfort in this moment.

It means learning about how you must sound when you talk; when every sentence begins with the word, “Um…” and ends with a dangling, “So…”

It means suddenly shifting the percentage of the budget spent on your own clothes because baby clothes are just so darn cute!

Being a mother means spending all afternoon looking forward to seeing your beloved: no, I’m not talking about the spouse, I’m talking about the kid. That look when they see you arrive at daycare and run into your arms is worth more than anything money can buy.

Being a mother means understanding why you got that look from the mom sitting four rows behind you when you inadvertently shushed her baby during church when you were in third grade.

It means a brand new, and more thorough, understanding of Psalm 139: “You knit me together in my mother’s womb.”

Being a mother means feeling like you need to buy a van just to take on vacation because you need to pack anything in the house that the baby could possibly need over the next 7 days.

Being a mother means sometimes thinking that your child’s birthday is more important for you than even for them: sure, they get gifts, but you get to reminisce about one of the greatest gifts you ever received on that day so many years ago.

Being a mother means knowing that if it were between you and your child eating if there were no food, you would go many days without so that you could make sure your child got something in his belly.

Being a mom means a new appreciation and empathy for the mom in the grocery store whose child is laid out across aisle 2 having a meltdown because she wouldn’t let her eat M&M’s at 10:30 in the morning.

And finally, being a mom means knowing that when you said to your own mom, “You’re so mean. You don’t love me!” you were so, so very wrong.

It means believing in miracles; after all, what else do you call creating a fully functioning human being out of several tiny little cells?

It means believing in the creative and sustaining power of God; knowing that no matter what happens, you will not be able to ever deny the existence of God because you have seen life begin.

And it means having a completely new appreciation for your own mother, what you put her through, what she gave up for you, how big her heart swelled to contain all the love she felt for you and your siblings, and how God must feel—if God’s love is anything like the love of a parent for a child, God’s heart truly must be so big that it completely surrounds the entire universe, because God loves each and every person just as much as a mother loves her child, sometimes, even more.

We are all beloved children of God, even if we were born to a mother who didn’t seem to care for us, even if our households weren’t warm, safe places to be, even if Mother’s Day brings more pain and longing than hugs and sweetness. God love us so much that God knit each of us together while we were in our mothers’ wombs, and God continues to love us today, tomorrow, and forever. Thanks be to God for our mothers, those who have been like mothers, and for God’s motherly love!

And Again with the Sojo...

2008-05-05T17:49:00.000-04:00

A spiritual life is simply a life in which all that we do comes from the center, where we are all anchored in God: a life soaked through and through by a sense of God's reality and claim, and self-given to the great movement of God's will.- Evelyn Underhill