I haven’t blogged in ages. It’s not that I haven’t thought about blogs or haven’t wanted to, I just haven’t. I think it’s the same thing that I feel about resolutions and reading the Upper Room email devotional in the morning – things that I want to do and crave to do and would feel better after doing, but for some reason I let the other more pressing things get in the way.
There are all sorts of things that demand our attention and it often feels like the things that would re-charge us or center us whether that be writing or reading or taking a walk or exercising or what have you – these are the things that we feel like need to take a back burner when we’re busy burning the candle at both ends and trying to keep our head above water.
I’m not good at treading water. To be even more honest, I’m a terrible swimmer. By the time we started taking swimming lessons, I was already in late elementary school and a pretty tall kid. If you can stand up in the 5 ft. deep end, swimming just doesn’t take on the same urgency it might would. The rest of my family can swim and in thinking about this (because I am that weird), I think I could survive for a little while lost at sea. I’m pretty good at floating on my back or doing like a frog stroke of some sort. If I’m treading water – I’ve got maybe 3 minutes, and I think even then, I’m being pretty generous.
Am I terrible at swimming, because I’ve seen no use for it yet? I just never got into it? I don’t feel a sense of urgency to do it?
Am I terrible at self care because I see no urgency in it? Because it’s not something to mark off the to do list?
Maybe if I added things like: Take a walk, write a poem (for fun not for serious), read a book in silence without interruption (yeah right), turn the music up and blast it, learn the dance to Thriller (finally), write down three things that you’re thankful for each day…maybe if I added some of these things to the to do list, they would actually happen and not just sound good in my head or me wistfully saying them out loud as a cop out.
What should you add to your to do list? What do you need to make time for? As a parent, as a teacher, as a preacher, as a student, as a leader, as a learner, as a philosopher, as a pragmatist, as a advocate, as a dreamer – what does your soul need today?
I’m listening to a little Coldplay “Every Teardrop is a Waterfall.” I don’t want “Monday morning to feel another life,” but like the authentic, passionate, continuation of following where God leads – the challenging, the joys, the wake up calls, the turning points, the ah ha moments, all apart of the waterfall that is our lives. We keep going with the strength of God. We keep grooving in the Spirit of God. We continue sharing love and grace in the joy of Jesus. And we re-charge, re-energize, re-new, re-store, re-fresh in the midst – taking the time to let the movement of Spirit work inside and out.
One of my favorite books as a child was “There Was an Old Lady who Swallowed a Fly.” My grandmother was a librarian so she had the inside track on all of the good children’s books when we were growing up. I don’t know if it was the rhyming or the irony of my lovingly prissy grandmother reading us this book about an old lady who swallowed a fly, but I loved that book. It’s kind of morbid if you read all the lines but hey – it was memorable.
Last night I enjoyed a dinner where one person found a fly in their food – still alive – stuck in the thousand island dressing and then when the manager came over to check on our main courses as they had arrived, we found two large hairs coming out of my steak. Delish.
Again, memorable.
This is a place where my parents have eaten often and I’ve eaten there a few times with them as well. We have had many good meals there and so in some ways, having one REALLY bad experience, you would think wouldn’t cancel out all of the good experiences. But then there’s something with something like this that makes you pause and think to yourself, if there’s live flies and steaks with hair coming out of the kitchen, what’s happening on the inside?
One of yesterday’s lectionary texts was Philippians 2:1-13 and there’s so much that can be learned from that text about who we are on the inside and what a community looks like when Christ’s love is lived from the inside out. Jesus didn’t just put on a nice facade on the outside to cover the decay on the inside. He lived out his calling authentically and radically. I know none of us are perfect and that sometimes the example of Jesus seems a bit daunting in a hurting and fallen world, but my hope is that even if Gordon Ramsey was to pop into the sometimes dirty kitchen of our hearts, that we are real with the things that challenge us and the things we’re working working and that we excel at. May we need just treat the outer symptoms, but also the very roots that can sometimes creep in and hold us back….whether that’s pride or arrogance or self-indulgence or anger or frustration or self-sabotage or lack of care.
Hope I don’t have any more memorable meals any time soon but a good word for our Wesleyan way of checking on how well it is with our soul. Thanks be to God for the grace and the continued love and healing and Spirit to keep moving and growing and changing and drawing more and more closely to God.
There’s a song right now on some Christian music stations by Royal Tailor called “Hold Me Together.” I know some are not huge Christian music fans and I get that, but for me, it seems that if I’m open to it, I often hear exactly what I need to hear and music seems to speak to me in ways that can break through even when my guard is up to everything else.
This past weekend Winthrop Wesley took a trip to Florida for Disney’s Night of Joy concert series. It was a great trip and I think the students all had a good time….but it was exhausting. Like for real, seriously exhausting. After working all day Friday, driving to Gainesville to spend the night at Gator Wesley took a pretty big toll on my energy level. And then getting up at 6 this next morning to get ready to drive to Orlando was a lot. In the midst of the hustle and bustle of Disney and rides and getting people where they needed to go and answering questions, I was pretty empty.
That night at the Magic Kingdom, Christian music was playing everywhere. Even when the concerts weren’t playing, the music on the loud speakers everywhere you went was Christian music. It may not have been everyone’s cup of tea and for those that don’t particularly love Christian music, it may have been pretty annoying, but for me – I really, really needed to hear it. I was on the D for DONE side and it was nice to feel God’s presence even in the midst of walking through the youth-crowded park and pushing one of the students in a wheel chair.
On the way to and from the trip we didn’t listen to a ton of Christian music and it was very much top 40 kind of stuff, and I must admit that lately in my car, I haven’t listened to a ton of Christian music. Sometimes I just get burnt out listening to the same things or I’m just tired of noise at the end of a long day, but how refreshing is it to know that we can be replenished when we need it in some of the least likely of ways if we’re just open to it?
If we stick both fingers in our ears and scream la, la, la at the top of our lungs and don’t want to hear or see or feel the power of God, we may just succeed, but if we ask, we’ll receive. It may not come in the form we want and we may have those seasons of doubt or frustration or questions but it’s amazing to me how faithful God is when we let it happen. I also believe that even when we la, la, la our heads off, that God continues to seek to be in relationship with us. God continues to want to open our eyes to mercies anew each day. Even when we’re tired. And our energy is shot. God seeks to hold us together and let us know that grace covers it all. We don’t have to always live the picture perfect, black and white, cookie cutter image, but we just have to let it go, drop our pride at the door, and be fully open to the grace, power, and life-changing hope of Jesus.
That’s something I needed today and something I continue to long for.
I am completely slacking on blogs right now which breaks all the rules of regular blogging. Sorry about that! I’ll catch up soon. Right now I’m at a great conference and have tried to be as fully invested in it as possible, but there has been a part of me distracted. Some of you that began following this blog when I started writing after finding out that I had a brain tumor and you walked with me through that journey and the recovery and even though the blog has become a little bit something different, I do still want to give you an update on that good ole brain of mine because I believe that this community of support has been invaluable and really a holy presence in my life and I can’t imagine my life without your prayer and support.
I have been doing 3 month MRI and neurosurgeon check ups over the past year. For the most part, I try to keep moving with life and I give a sincere and concerted effort not to let these worries and fears rule over my life. Then comes the time when I get the envelope from Carolina Spine and Neurosurgery in the mail with all of my appointment times and as Mike and I see it, I can feel the background stress and tension in me and those I love. The unknown is so completely…humbling…scary…difficult. There’s so much to unpack there but that would be an incredibly long blog and mine are already probably way too long.
Last week I went to my (I don’t really care to remember how many its been now) whatevereth MRI and the techs were asking how I was doing and what I was there for, all that good stuff and I told them my hope that maybe this was the visit where I could be increased to every 6 months or every year instead of every 3 months.
On Monday I met with the neurosurgeon and he said that it was the radiologist’s opinion that the part of the tumor still up there in brain/motor cortex land may have grown slightly but that it was very slight. His opinion was that he didn’t see a change and disagreed with the radiologist. We then had a lovely back and forth where I looked at the comparison MRI’s myself and tried to understand and that I got a chance to ask some hard questions. Since Mike was not with me, I could ask some of the things that I want to know and would like to understand but that I don’t want to alarm, worry or hurt someone else by them hearing the questions or the answers. Does that make sense?
So even though it was not my most favorite news in the world, I was okay. My amazing doctor said he was going to take the tumor to the tumor board for them to decide if it had grown or not. I called Mike and my parents on the way home and was okay.
Primarily I was okay because I was leaving the next morning for a conference and I just didn’t have the emotional energy or the whatever to process it.
Yesterday afternoon while I was in a workshop, the doctor left a message and when I hear him say his name I immediately get a little freaked out on the inside even though he’s a fabulous doctor – like fabulous – but it’s just anxiety producing. But then he says an AMAZING thing – the tumor board doesn’t see any change. AND because this place on my lovely brain has stayed consistent this year, I get to stretch the time between MRI’s to 6 months!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I could probably mash exclamation points for a while on that one.) That may seem like a little thing, but it’s such an act of hope and grace and peace to me.
And though I didn’t shed a tear on Monday, I couldn’t stop crying off and on yesterday evening. Is that crazy? The bad news – I take it and I’m like let’s do this thing. The good news – I’m a basketcase. In talking with a dear friend and colleague about this last night I told her as I was trying to process and express my layers of feelings that I really needed to blog about this. For some odd, crazy reason this is how I started this journey – blogging. And it has been such a healing and cathartic piece or even peace for me. There’s something about putting it out there in writing and narrative that makes it something that I feel a little more grounded in. I guess we each have our mediums – whether it’s walking outside or making pottery or playing baseball or journaling. And I am thankful for this one.
In the midst of this I know that there are those walking incredibly hard and deep and heartbreaking journeys right now. I think of the family members that are living this reality right now and the friends and loved ones who have faced challenges that I know not of. Please do lift up in prayer those who are in the midst of the struggle of the unknown and in this thin place where anger and fear and sadness and grief and life and death and joy and pain are so close to the surface at times. Each of us walks this journey at times.
And we’re not alone.
I have seen Christ in the colleagues that I’ve shared with here and that continue to uplift and inspire and challenge and hold me accountable. I have seen Christ in my family who continue to battle for me. I have seen Christ in the countless people that continue to tell me they’re praying for me or those that just give me space to be…and to feel…and to just cry or laugh or talk about it or not talk about it. I have seen Christ when I’m by myself and I am vulnerable and just laid bare as a child of God. Although there is no doubt that I would not have chosen for this piece of the puzzle of life, I have felt Christ’s Spirit and promise more tangibly and have felt the Body of Christ more profoundly and genuine than I have felt in my life.
I am grateful for a community of people that I can keep it real with on the sad days and the angry days and the joyous days and the rock and roll days. I am grateful for a Savior who continues to be that Great Redeemer and Strong Protector and just that Amazing Grace who support us and girds us up in mighty, mighty ways.
So that’s my brain.
And one of the awesome things – 6 MONTHS!!!!!
Grace and peace to all of you. I am gratefu for you all.
I have no idea who said this but I know I didn’t make it up myself. Someone told me once that we all have a sermon and each Sunday we just preach it a lot of different ways. I’ve thought about this for awhile, and I have found this idea intriguing. In discussion with Josh back and forth over sermons or with Mike back and forth over music, there’s a part of me that does believe that each of us is given this essence, this thing within us that’s just trying to get out and that’s our story. It’s our thing to share with the world. All of us are different. And that’s what makes it beautiful. We’re not competing over who has the best one or who has the loudest or most compelling, but we each have one to share. Each of us.
I think for me it’s this incarnational theology thing. I don’t even want to know how many sermons I talk about Emmanuel – God with us, that the Great God of the universe decided to come and be one of us, that God is with us in the midst. I know I must say in the midst all the time. I don’t know why this gels with me so much, but even if I’m not preaching about it – let’s say I’m talking about human trafficking or Ruth or the early church in Acts – whatever it is, somehow I end up back with this same uncontrollable and thirsty desire to talk to people about this Savior that wants to know them. Not in an arrogant, aren’t we humans so cool, kind of way, but in a I want to know you and I created you and I have this awesome and amazing journey for you to go on. Not saying that those are always easy stories – because there’s a lot of hurt and evil and junk out there, but a God that goes with us and that gets down in the mud and muck with us – that’s a God I can follow.
I could go down a list of what I think people’s sermons/songs/stories are. Is that weird? But can you think about it? The people around you – what is their thing? What is their essence? What is that thing that they point to?
Let me put in a musical perspective. I am not a musician. I am married to one and I love him and he says I don’t count anymore as a non-musician because I’ve heard him talk so much about it. Maybe that’s true. But I love music. Y’all know I love music. My mind thinks in songs which is why I should give money to youtube because I use their videos so much. So back to music – I digress – there’s this guy Stephen Oremus – arranger, orchestrator, musical director. Randomly in July 2005 Mike and I won tickets to Wicked, the musical on Broadway. (I know, I know, I can’t shut up about Broadway, but I like it. I really, really like it.) There’s was a guy conducting or whatever you would call that and he had the best time. He was laughing and smiling and enjoying it in an amazing way. Then here we are this past May and we won tickets to the Book of Mormon Musical and here’s this conductor smiling and so enthusiastic and really loving it and lo and behold – same guy. Stephen Oremus.
Now the guy doesn’t even have a wikipedia page, and I’m tempted to write it myself because I really enjoy what he does. He arranged the music for Avenue Q and Wicked and 9 to 5 and High Fidelity and All Shook Up and the Book of Mormon and as someone who at least loves and owns the soundtrack to three of those, I can hear similarities and musical themes that are common throughout and it’s so cool. It’s just good music and arrangement. As Mike and I were talking about this he talks about how sometimes musicians don’t want to have those themes throughout – you know just like in Project Runway when the girl had all the clothes with petals – you don’t want to be stuck on the one note. But then he changed his mind and said, maybe that’s this guy’s thing. Maybe that’s his gift, his essence – his thing to give.
I don’t know. Call me crazy. But I feel like all of us have that “thing” within us that’s waiting to burst out. That gift whether it be the timid girl who then starts belting out the notes in Sister Act or even the first time Billy Graham stepped behind a pulpit or the first time you do that thing that just makes you feel beyond any word like happy, but alive or content or at purpose.
What’s that thing you want to share with the whole world? What is it that you think they just have to know? How do you share it in your own unique, God-given way?
I get the fear and the doubt and the times you may not feel it and the times when you’re frustrated or annoyed or just plain old pooped. But what’s the story of your life?
Is my story – tired, frantic mother? Is my story – I’ll be glad to talk to you when I’m fully rested and in a good mood and with the right amount of caffeine? Is my story…
If you could tell someone in three sentences or less your greatest purpose or piece of advice or rule to live by or other cliched phrase. If you could share the very essence of who God created you to be with someone, what would that look like? Words? A picture? A song? A hug? A sweater?
Think about it. What’s your thing to share? Your gift to give? What’s your story? And how is it part of the greater story around us? How are we sharing it with the world?
I love this song. I actually love Michael W. Smith’s entire Trilogy on the I’ll Lead You Home album. I know, I know – old school Christian music. Don’t ask me how something titled Angels Unaware fits with this, but somehow I think we live our stories. We live who we are in the good, the bad, and the ugly. On the great days and on the dark days. Whether there are angels unaware or whether we’re right there in the presence of God – we’ve been created and life breathed into us and a story placed in our hearts and on our lives. We don’t always have to have it figured out or feel like we’re good enough, but God is faithful to us and we can trust God’s grace and mercy and never-ending love is available to each of us.
I honestly think of this song every time I say, what’s your story? Matthew West says it well in the Next Thing You Know.
So what’s your story about God’s glory? How are you letting your life speak to the world?
Annual Conference this year was both a whirlwind and a marathon. Busy-ness or business was everywhere and it was both challenging and inspiring, a call to action and a test of will as we waited/persevered to the end.
I’m starting to think I’ve become more and more emotional as I grow older. There were several times over this past week when I felt tears come to my eyes. Some of those times were times of happiness and thanksgiving – feeling the Spirit move as Telley preached at Annual Conference, Josh’s ordination, the prayerful and powerful way our South Carolina delegation laid hands on Dad and prayed over him after unanimously deciding he would be our episcopal nominee. There were so many great moments from the teaching to the preaching to the videos shared like this:
It was also a great time to camp out for Imagine No Malaria and to train some amazing Students In Mission (SIM) to commit their summers to being in mission = ministry with. Much to be joyful about!
Sometimes the tears were both thankful and a little bit of just overwhelming gratitude. It was surreal being back at Annual Conference this year. Last year, I came in for two days right before the brain surgery and although some probably thought I was insane for coming, for me, it was my church. The conference – both lay and clergy – are our people and that’s where we as a body share our joys and concerns. I didn’t realize going into this how much being back at conference would bring up for me in terms of last year’s struggle.
We sang the song, “In Christ Alone” during the opening worship and those words and all of us a large body singing together was such a powerful witness and testimony to the love and providence of God. (A video and lyrics are below.) I’m glad we also sang this song during the ordination. What a powerful song for our commissioned members and ordinands.
My mom’s birthday is June 11th and the brain surgery (left frontal craniotomy) was on her birthday last year. There’s a part of me that would love to forget that date and not have any mark or reminder of it. There’s another part of me that knows that it was everyone’s prayers and the grace of God that brought me through and it should be celebrated. Don’t know which one is winning yet. The jury is still out. I get teary just typing about it. Does that mean I haven’t fully dealt with it yet? Could be. Too soon? Maybe, but not entirely. Does that mean that was a mucho grande big deal and it’s still crazy to me that all of that happened a year ago and wasn’t just a bad dream? Yes. It’s hard to believe that that was me and if I didn’t have my lovely scar that I worry about getting sunburned, I might forget.
It’s hard to process things. There’s a certain grief and emotion that swells up when you least expect it sometimes. And it happens to all of us. I was sitting in the Memorial Service for ministers that have gone to be with God over the past year on Mom’s birthday on the anniversary of my brain surgery and I just couldn’t do it. I got through the sermon but the slide show of the pictures just did me in. It’s always been a powerful service to me since in my mind the South Carolina Annual Conference is my home/my church and I know that one day there will be a service for each of us. And there goes a Sandi Patti song and slides of the pastor that helped during my Gandaddy’s funeral and I have to head on out. Even in the midst of the thanksgiving for life, even in the midst of the joy of the swelling of the Spirit, even in the midst of realizing that nothing can pluck any of us from God’s hand – there’s still both the realization that something really scary and really serious happened and a something that’s even beyond the word thanksgiving that describes that depth of feeling behind all that could have been and is now.
As I think about those that have faced such devastation in the storms and floods this year, those that have lost loved ones, those that are facing moves and transitions, those that are searching for hope and a rock to lean on when it feels like the walls are closing in around you – I know that the great Comforter is at work in our world and is blowing, inspiring and surrounding us every step of the way. I am grateful that it is in Christ alone our hope is found and that we will never be turned away from it. It’s available to each of us.
What are you grieving today? What are your struggles? When’s the last time you felt that ground swell of emotion? How do we see the Spirit at work in our world? What are the fears and frustrations that we’ve held on to and not given over to God? What are those buttons of grief that can be turned in to sources of joy in our lives?
We are given songs or videos or movies or sermons or scriptures or friends or emails or a beautiful tree or the melody of the ocean or the stillness and quiet to claim as our promise from God. It’s there waiting for us. May we open ourselves to the Word God would speak to us this day. May we claim it and know it and feel it to the depths of our souls. May we know and trust.
In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless Babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live, I live
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin?s curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ
No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From a life’s first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Could ever pluck me from His hand
Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I stand
I will stand, I will stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground, all other ground
Is sinking sand, is sinking sand
So I stand
Do you ever wonder what people think when they see you? I’m not completely just talking about visual judgments here, but the whole shebang. It’s just funny to me to think about how we are each perceived and how close to the mark that is.
One of the students and I walked over to the campus Starbucks earlier today to talk about seminary and candidacy and all that is wonderful and crazy about heading into ministry in the United Methodist Church. It was a fun conversation and I’m excited about his journey. What was funny to me is that one of the folks we met along the way, that I know pretty well, didn’t even speak to me or seem to recognize me. Now, I must say, that since there’s no meetings today and I’m not anticipating having to look too terribly nice, I’m in jeans and a short sleeved shirt with no make up. You could call this one of my uniforms. What is hilarious is that when I’m dressed nicely with my make up on, I’m recognized immediately, but in my “natural” state, not so much. Now there are pros and cons about being recognized and pros and cons about blending in. I just think it’s funny to think about.
I mentioned this to some of the students at lunch and one very nicely and graciously and probably a little untruthfully, said – “What? You look exactly the same.” God bless the young. We were having some conversation about the upcoming school year and getting ready for Welcome Week and the first few weeks of classes and how we need to plan and prepare and get rocking this summer so that we show the very best of Winthrop Wesley those first few weeks. In other words, we’re going to put on our nice clothes and make up and rock this thing. Or as my Ganny would say, we’re going to put our “face” on. Thinking about it – it’s the truth. When do I clean up and make sure everything looks nice – when someone’s coming over, when there’s a board meeting, at the beginning of the school year. When do we put out fresh pine straw and make sure the outside of the building looks good – Orientations and the beginning of the school year. When do I actually consider wearing a suit or ironing that dress – Annual Conference, a district meeting, or some other professional gathering. When do our congregations particular dress up – Easter, Christmas, graduation, the big days. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with celebrating or dressing up for dinner or actually using the fine china every now and then. (Come to think of it – we have NEVER used ours and that is a sad, sad thing. Maybe we should plan a big dinner sometime soon or at least use the stuff. I don’t know why we even registered for those tea cups. My Lord.) Reality is that I think sometimes we need those occasions or deadlines to get geared up and do something. Although I know that I need to exercise more and stop eating all of these delicious cookies from Lell’s, I also keep thinking to myself – I’ll start tomorrow or maybe one day when I get a bike and ride it to work or maybe before bathing suit season. And yet, we’re at bathing suit season and I’m thinking, I don’t really have to wear a bathing suit, right? Or maybe I can scratch the bikini this year and actually go for the “Mom” suit. (You know the kind I’m talking about, don’t even try to deny it.) Sometimes without an imminent deadline, we languish where we are and don’t make the extra effort to get our “stuff” together. So as much as I in some ways don’t like being recognized and it’s nice not to be “seen” all the time, it’s also a good reminder that we’ve got to keep it moving and keep it flowing not just on the high traffic, big deal, main event kind of times, but maybe at least a trickle of keeping it hospitable, welcoming, genuine and open all the time. You never know whose going to walk into your congregation at what time or who you’re going to welcome to your door. You don’t know if today’s going to be the day at Starbucks that you meet someone that is going to rock your socks off and be that missing piece to some ministry idea or ministry team or whatever for your congregation. I’m not saying we’re not authentic – and I’m certainly not saying that I’m going to suddenly dress up for Wesley each day, but I am saying that we’ve got to be aware of what the world sees. We’ve got to be aware of how we’re perceived. We’ve got to be aware of the image that we create.
While at lunch there were three professors in the restaurant with us and one of them who comes to our Faculty-Staff lunches looked over and smiled and waved as the students and I were discussing Nicaragua and the upcoming school year. That’s what I want these folks to see – students engaged and excited and brainstorming – not just about their schoolwork or their majors but also about their vocational journeys, their worlds – all the fun and mess and real life. We want the world to see all of who we are – not just the Sunday morning shiny with the great hair, outfit, and full face, but also the struggles, the tears, the frustrations and everything in between. So the challenge – put our best foot forward – true – but be real. What is your image of yourself? What do you think the world sees? What do you think God sees? How are we called to be in the world? Do we need a big fancy event to throw on some nice clothes or use the good china? Who or what has helped to define how you see yourself?
“Our deepest calling is to grow into our own authentic self-hood, whether or not it conforms to some image of who we ought to be. As we do so, we will not only find the joy that every human being seeks–we will also find our path of authentic service in the world.” – Parker Palmer
Psalm 139
For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.1 You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. 2 You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. 3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. 4 Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. 5 You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. 6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. 7 Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? 8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, 10 even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. 11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” 12 even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. 13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. 14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. 16 Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
The United Methodist campus ministries went on our annual trip to New York this past week. It always a rich time with students getting to make new friends and see and learn so much from the city. It is also a blessing to be able to stay at Metropolitan Community UMC in Harlem. Their hospitality has always been a huge gift to us and a shining example of the United Methodist connection.
This year the United Methodist Seminar Program led by Jay Godfrey and Jennifer McCallum outdid themselves, scheduling 3 parts of our group in 3 different areas of the city for 3 days to learn about the communities, culture, and social action taking place. We were divided into groups going to the Bronx, Lower East Side and Harlem and had one day of service at a meals on wheels sort of thing where we actually walked to apartments and delivered meals to the elderly, one day of learning about cultures in our particular communities, and one day of seminar focusing on some of the issues in our communities and what organizations in those communities are doing to combat them.
I had spent some time doing seminars in Harlem and the Lower East Side so I was particularly interested in the Bronx. What a huge area and diverse group of people the Bronx includes. In all of the stops at museums, art collectives, a Yankees game, community action groups – each area of the Bronx was really different. They were all so proud to be “Bronxites” that their enthusiasm for their borough was infectious. We all felt like Bronxites to an extent at the end of our time. Did you know that the Bronx has more green space than any other burrough in New York? Me either.
What we heard from a lot of people and I would think the other groups would say this to, was people saying that they grew up dreaming of moving somewhere else and starting a new life, but that through whatever experience, education, epiphany moment, they decided to stay in their community and try to bring about change and keep fighting for chances and opportunities for the children growing up behind them. Many of the speakers we talked to were born and bred in these communities and the passion, devotion and pride that they felt for these places was evident in everything they said whether the good or even the challenging issues that they are still battling.
It was good for the students and me to see these people standing up for what they believe in using real, practical, and change-bringing principles to their every day, bringing voice to the voiceless.
The divide I feel when I’m talking about us going to a living wage rally or fighting on behalf of the poor versus some of the questioning looks I get from people back home, has a lot to do with people’s questions about justice and righteousness. We say we don’t believe all of the malarky about people who suffer having done something wrong or may not have lived right and have caused their suffering. We say that we need to support our mentally ill, veterans, the widows, the orphans, those that can’t help themselves. But then again, when it comes to our wallets and our own comfort, it seems easier to say and assume that if people were just working hard enough, if people just did what it takes to succeed, they would somehow pull themselves up out of these places of poverty.
We just witnessed a royal wedding where a commoner who descended from coal miners and criminals married a prince. As much as I like the fairytale and as hard as her family worked and as many names they have been called for “social climbing,” I think it paints a somewhat unfair picture of what the cycle of poverty really looks like. To say that it is hard to break that cycle is such a rough and belittling use of an adjective that it feels wrong to say. To stand up in the face of corruption, in the face of not just people but entire systems that abuse you, to demand the same rights that others enjoy when you’ve never gotten a fair shake – that is scary, it’s terrifying, it’s intimidating.
I am constantly amazed at the voices that do stand up though. I was glad to hear of a student from the Bronx talk about students in the Bronx organizing a walk out of thousands of students when the government was going to take away their right to a student metrocard to get to and from school. I was inspired listening to Intikana from Rebel Diaz Arts Collective talking about how they’re using art and music and film and all sorts of creative outlets to give people in the Bronx a way to express themselves in non-violent and constructive ways. It’s great to see young people working to bring about a new day. It’s good for all of us to see that we can make a difference, whether through our churches doing a soup kitchen, clothing closet, food pantry, or other social action. In the midst of the sometimes uphill climb and little defeats in the battle, it’s good to know that none of us are alone in this battle and that we have folks journeying with us all over the world.
From a faith perspective, we are clearly called to the poor, to the wounded, to those that need to feel that love and wholeness and new life. This isn’t just the obvious poor among us, but it’s also the single mom trying to make ends meet, it’s also our cranky next door neighbor who’s as lonely as heck, it’s also our friends, our family, the people we see at the office or grocery store or school.
One of this past week’s lectionary texts was 1 Peter 2:19-25 and it talked about suffering and following in Christ’s footsteps. Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t ask God for suffering. If you suffer, you suffer, but Christ suffers with you, I get that. But I’m not asking for it like the lovely Mr. Wesley in his new year’s service. There’s two things I like in particular about this text – one that Christ suffered for us and so God knows what suffering feels like – for real without a doubt not even his fault suffering. There’s a song in the new Broadway musical, The Book of Mormon that’s called “Man Up.” I am NOT endorsing or saying you should go out and watch Book of Mormon or get the soundtrack. The story is about two Mormon missionaries in Africa and needless to say, one of them is seeing that he has a challenge before him and he’s like, hey – Jesus had to man up, so I need to too. I’m not saying that we all have to man or woman up, but the song is right in that Christ did suffer and die and he’s been there. He knows what it’s like to feel alone, tired, hungry, beaten, ridiculed, and tortured.
The other thing is that he did the suffering for us, that “by his wounds you have been healed” and he is our Shepherd leading us home. To me, this calls us in two different directions – one to realize that we realize that this LOVE and sacrifice was for us. The other is to realize that we have to share this LOVE and sacrifice with the world. We can’t say, that’s not my problem, it’s a problem over “there” with “those” people in “that” place. Nope, it’s something that we all must wrestle with as we share the light and love of Christ. This cycle of poverty only ends as we all jump into the fight, pool our resources, and leave our pride, self-protection, and rationalizations at the door.
We learned a ton in New York. It was a great trip. The thing I like about these trips is that it’s not just something we leave in New York, in this far away place, but these are things we learn and do and bring home to make a difference where we are, not just in a nice, greeting card kind of way, but for real.
How do we break the cycle of poverty in our communities? How do we break the cycle of unbelief and fear and doubt? How do we break the cycle of people believing that Jesus would just look at them with contempt and say that they deserved it because of what they did? What are our churches saying about the cycle of poverty and suffering? Anything? What message are we telling? What inner soundtrack are our lives rocking along too?
A nice, tame song by JJ Heller, “What Love Really Means.”
Man Up from the Book of Mormon – (don’t forget this is a satirical musical written by the creators of South Park and Avenue Q so listen at your own risk…this is your disclaimer, seriously.)
If someone was going to write a satirical musical about our faith? our denomination? our churches? what would it say???
Evy loves playing with my toothbrush. She does. It happens. I know I should think this is gross and I know we’re exchanging germs, but in the scheme of things, I don’t really care if she’s playing with my toothbrush. She’s not using it to clean the toilet or scrub the floors so that’s a plus. Both the kids had strep throat about a month ago and the 10 days of antibiotics and trying to get those things down them, was a challenge. Enoch finally starting taking the medicine like a “big boy” hallelujah but we had to practically hang Evy upside down to get her to take it. Oh the fun of parenting!
A week after that low and behold Mommy wasn’t feeling well and my throat was just plain gross. Strep throat it was. Immediately the doctor asks, has anyone you know been sick with strep throat? Yep. The two kids. Did you change out their toothbrushes? As soon as he asked the question, I know for sure and for certain how I got my lovely strep. It’s crazy how a simple, small thing like letting your two year old play with your toothbrush can cause something that makes you not want to get out of bed in the morning and feel terrible.
It’s not like Evy did it to intentionally get me sick and it’s not like I thought about – hmmmm, let me give myself strep today. Not at all. But sometimes the small decisions we make that seem to have no impact on our lives at all, can creep up on us in major ways. Eating those couple little hershey kisses every day can add up to a lot of chocolate and a lot of pounds over the year. Putting off quiet time alone with God, intentional prayer, Sabbath and time to refresh, or times of reconnecting and quality time with friends, family and our spouse/significant other can seem like a lot of small decisions, but the impact over time can really knock you off course.
I’ve been doing a lot of premarital counseling sessions lately because there are 4 Winthrop Wesley related couples getting married this summer. Very exciting! I love officiating at weddings. I did the premarital counseling for another couple in grad school here at Winthrop who are getting married in Florida and they really wanted to do the 5 Love Languages quiz. Most of the quizzes or exercises or things we talk about center on communication and being intentional with time and priorities. These and the 5 Love Languages show that the little things really do add up. It’s the small decisions that we make every day that paint the big picture, not just the grand gestures.
So in essence, instead of just looking at the big decisions like jobs, houses, and marriage prayerfully and with wisdom and care, we should apply that same amount of discernment to how we choose to react to the everyday. A lot of these little things have to do with our mouth – are we showering forth blessings or curses. In Proverbs 12:15-23 there is all sorts of wisdom about our words and the power that our mouths can have. Maybe sometimes it is best to not say anything at all. Maybe sometimes to not speak up and say something is an injustice or cowardly. It really does depend on the Spirits leading.
May we today be mindful of our actions, even the little things. May we feel peace and wisdom as we go through our day so that our hearts and minds aren’t off to the races and reacting before we’re thinking. May we acknowledge and confess that sometimes things that we don’t think are a big deal at all, can have profound affects on our lives and the lives of others, and may we reflect and purposefully go forward spreading the love of Christ, the joy of grace, and the meaty thanksgiving that comes when we are in pace with God’s Spirit.
He is Risen! The cross still looms to remind us of the sacrifice and the promise that death and sin are defeated by the love and grace of God!
We say that as Christians we’re an Easter people, a Resurrection people. I believe that and have given an enthusiastic “He is risen. He is risen indeed!” I don’t know if it was because Easter was so late in the season this year but I started off pretty well at the beginning of Lent in trying to be intentional about this journey to the cross, but as the semester began to draw to a close and the to do list piled up, our car was totaled and we were depending on just one car, three of us had strep throat, and we moved everything out of my grandparent’s house, Easter somehow got lost in the shuffle and all the upheaval of life.
A clergy friend of mine posted the other day that Lent and Holy Week are her favorite time of the year. I love spring and the flowers and the sun out more (even though we haven’t seen that as much yet). I love the smell and feel in the air as people begin to come outside and play volleyball in the sand at Winthrop Lake, go on walks in the evening, and enjoy time on your front or back porch. The transition from winter to spring is an amazing one and I know that very easily makes a symbolic leap to death and the resurrection. So don’t get me wrong, I love this time of year, but I can’t say that I enjoy Good Friday. It’s like Saving Private Ryan or Schindler’s List where it’s not something that you watch every day to lift your spirits, but it’s something you know you need to watch at least once to recognize the sacrifice and the weight of what was cost.
I hate to pick favorite anything’s but Advent and Christmas are probably hands down my favorite time of year. It’s such a powerful witness to me that the great God of the universe decided to come as a baby and dwell among us. Emmanuel, fully human and fully divine, is such a super big deal. You can’t have Easter without that in-breaking of the kingdom where God became a vulnerable baby right here in all of our human frailty and all the kaleidoscope of human experience. In some ways it’s the same reasons that I love watching The Ten Commandments with Charlton Heston the night before Easter every year. There’s something about when Moses says,” I want to know God,” as he longs to go on the mountain, and something sacred and special about this God who speaks and delivers the people. There’s something about Ramses in the movie when challenged to cry out to his gods for help saying about Moses’ God, “His God, is God.” A God that could have anything or do anything God wants, that chooses to be in relationship with God’s people, that chooses to bring deliverance and justice, and that chooses to be present in the midst of suffering – that is something more powerful than any adjective could describe.
In thinking about Easter, I think a lot of my unease is around Good Friday. It’s easy for us to lift up the tiny baby Jesus a la Ricky Bobby or in pictures and greeting cards, but you don’t see people sending out greeting cards or putting giant pictures of Jesus still hanging on the cross, crucified with the nails and the blood and the crown of thorns. It’s easy to believe in this present and loving God that chooses to be with us, it’s a little harder to take the responsibility that all the suffering he did on the cross was for us. That’s a little more weighty and pricks our pride a bit for those that think works or merit or self-seeking is what makes things happen, which is why I think we often rush straight from Palm Sunday right on to Easter and the resurrection. We know it ends well and it’s all good and grace for us, but it’s hard to hear the words from Gethsemane, “Father, take this cup from me.” It’s hard to read about the suffering much less watch anything like the Passion where we get an up-close and personal look. If we really believe that Jesus died on the cross for our sins. If we believe that this innocent man was martyred for us, how does that change how we live our lives? Does it? Sometimes Easter makes the sacrifice look easy and the grace that’s thrown out in bushel-full’s seem simple. But then I think about Peter and the other disciple running as fast as they can to the tomb and Mary weeping there. This was real and personal and not something just long ago, but something that affects each of us as Jesus calls our name.
How would you describe Easter? How would you describe what Jesus did? Using real life language, what would you say? In thinking about how to describe the Easter story to Enoch and Evy in ways that they understand, do I just pop in a Veggie Tales video on Easter or read them a children’s book or hope they pick up something at church? How do we explain to the world what Easter means, not just the cute little baby Jesus, but the full scope of the story?
There’s a line to a song that I heard the other day that says “there’s no hope without suffering.” There’s no hope without suffering. I don’t know if that’s wholly true all the time, but I do believe that the hope born from suffering is a real and sustaining hope indeed. What kind of resurrection hope are we offering our world? This isn’t a hope that tells you that everything in life is going to be easy or rainbows and butterflies. It’s much like our South Carolina motto, “While I breathe, I hope.” This is a hope that says that no matter what, even on the darkest of days, that God is with you. Sin and death have been conquered and new life, eternal life, abundant life, is offered in Christ. No more do we have to make the same mistakes over and over, but through the power and grace of God and the Spirit that intercedes for us, we have the promise of something more in this life and a story unfolding far more magnificent, magical, and miraculous than any royal wedding, any Lifetime or Hallmark movie, or anything we may try to do on our own. Beyond any “greatest story ever told” this God of Advent and Christmas, Lent and Easter, and everything in between – this God is seeking us and calling us to live this resurrection life out loud in the world by loving God, loving our neighbor, and loving ourselves to know that we don’t have to do it all, but we just have to depend on the One who did it for us.
I haven’t blogged in ages. It’s not that I haven’t thought about blogs or haven’t wanted to, I just haven’t. I think it’s the same thing that I feel about resolutions and reading the Upper Room email devotional in the morning – things that I want to do and crave to do and would feel better after doing, but for some reason I let the other more pressing things get in the way. 
Blessings on the Journey 