Sabbath Rest

Prayerful Sabbath Morning

2012-01-21T10:00:00.000-05:00

This morning I began a new prayer discipline. It is part of my growing tool chest (not sure I like that metaphor) of Holy Habits. This particular resource provides the structure for my morning prayers. It repeats monthly, so over time some of these will become so familiar the book will not be as cumbersome. As I have explored this resource, I found another gem, a pattern of silently praying throughout the morning worship on Sundays. I am so excited to lift each movement in worship up in prayer. The rhythm of worship will have a counter point of prayer. What joy! During Lent my plan is to incorporate into the bulletins these prayers for those with whom I worship, that as we lift together these silent prayers, worship is bathed in corporate prayer. What joy!

So I have been thinking over this tool chest idea. We use words like arsenal, tool belt, or tool chest to identify our growing skills for sustainable living. Since my growing disciplines are for my formation as a disciple of Jesus Christ, I think I need a better metaphor and offer this one up for consideration. I am constructing a labyrinth of stones. Each new discipline is another stone in the creative process. As I build this labyrinth in my spiritual imagination the path leads me to my spiritual center, God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and the compelling love of God leads me back out into the world. The stone benches along the path are places to remember to sit and pray, the stones that edge the path may need to be held at times to remember the discipline they represent.

People who are journeying with me as mentors, as accountability partners, as friends, as fellow sojourners, are represented by stones as well. These I can bring to those benches to pray with them. The construction process is underway with new books for my prayer life, new workout clothes for my increasing physical activity, new menus for healthy eating, and old friends as well as new who encourage me along the way.

On this day begun in prayer, I rejoice in the discovery of a metaphor to guide my Holy Habits. Adding stones.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Uprooted

2012-01-20T18:53:00.001-05:00

Trying to change my life patterns, I have begun walking the church grounds. This particular tree has been part of the landscape I observe. One of the strong winds that came our way this past year brought this large tree down. What weakened its root structure remains unknown. It may have been years of drought or disease. The cause of its fall is known but what provided the opportunity for the wind to take this large tree down remains a mystery. Its fall caused harm to the trees around it, some damage may prove fatal, but the spring will show us the new growth that signals healing. Soon the men of the church will come and carve away at the skeletal remains. As I wonder about the circumstances that led to the trees demise, I realize that communities of faith are facing strong winds all around them. If the community has suffered a spiritual drought or become diseased the winds of the world will uproot them as well.

So I went to look at what it means to be uprooted. I saw the stub of roots severed from their source of nourishment. I felt the wrenching of the earth as the roots were lifted out of the ground and pulled until they snapped. The complex system within the tree exposed to the harsh sun as it died and dried. My sorrow for our loss of this tree grew as I thought of communities of faith that close their doors because they too have been uprooted, died, and dried up. Then, I turned again to reflect on what God might be saying about being uprooted, that my focus may be all wrong. What if the uprooted tree was not about a community that was torn asunder by the winds of the world, but instead the tree represented the deep rooted sin within the community. What if the wind that blew the tree down was the Holy Spirit coming in to clear away disease. What if the drought was the community's choice to stop nourishing their sin and nourish each other and those God sent them to serve.

So I looked again at the uprooted tree and in the brilliant light of God's love I saw beauty in the exposed roots. I knew in the midst of the brokenness God's grace touched the places where the tree was ripped from the earth and its death held the promise of resurrection.

One final thought about being uprooted. When Jesus called his disciples, he said, "follow me." It is hard to put down roots when we are called into a journey with Jesus. Maybe the lesson of the uprooted tree is that I cannot continue to grow in my relationship with God without being willing to be uprooted and move. Maybe the lesson of the uprooted tree for communities of faith is that we cannot continue to grow into being the Body of Christ without being willing to be uprooted and move into the world to share the story of God's love.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Revealed Roots

2012-01-17T10:45:00.000-05:00

Roots are very fascinating. Just recently I was with my beautician and she was reminding me that my roots were showing. My roots were revealing not only my natural hair color but also that the highlights were not my own. The warm golds that glitter in the sun were added as well as the subtle reds that brought rich dimensions to the tonal quality of my hair color. This left me to ponder about what it means to have our roots revealed.

One of the days that Abby and I were walking at Plank Chapel I was noticing these revealed roots. There are some roots I have to remember to notice else I might stumble and fall over them. But these roots caught my attention as no other. The tree which grew from them
was on the edge of the property. The roots reaching inward from the boundary of lands towards the center of the parking yard suffered the blades of a lawn mower or split from the heat of the piercing sun. My eyes traveled along their gnarled path and saw wounds now scars that displayed the risks of their surfaced exposure. I glimpsed places where these roots appeared to have been blocked by some unknown force and lifted up into the air as if to take a breath to try to break free the blockage. I marveled at how they spread out across the land keeping the tree strong and tall as it reached for the heavens. Their penetrating presence reminding me of how God's love is a risk taking love that encounters blades of hate and the piercing heat of anger. Scarred by the world, God continues to love and through God's love we continue to grow strong and tall into the men and women God created.

Then my spirit moved once again with the pattern of those revealed roots. I thought about my own willingness to love unconditionally and how that willingness to love exposes the roots of my being to the blades of hate and the piercing heat of anger. I considered the places where my rootedness in God's love has scars from where the humanness of the world touched the divine. I realized this week how much joy is part of the healing power of God. What I experience in the night of anguish, in the dark of despair is the resounding joy of God's presence with me. As I have touched one particular scar this past week I discovered that irregardless of the pain and suffering that the death of a child creates, I would not choose any other path than the path of love, I will not run from love to protect my heart. For me to choose to hide or run from the risks that loving others creates means to choose to run or hide from God's love, that would truly uproot me and leave me dead. I know there are times when I retreat because of the pain of the fresh hurt. These times are like those bulges in the roots of the tree, a blockage and I have to lift my heart towards the healing warmth of God's love.

When I reveal my scars to others, I also reveal the roots of my groundedness in God's love allowing others to enter into God's joy that cradles my sorrow, allowing others to enter into God's love that heals my pain, that they might too allow God to bring healing into their lives.

Revealing my roots,
One of Many

Words that shape us

2012-01-14T11:12:00.000-05:00

I have noticed recently how recurring words continue to shape my faith. This week the word community continued to resonate in my mind as it pulsated through each day in rhythm with my own heart. I read about community in my husband's favorite motorcycle magazine. I heard about community in a discipleship training seminar. I experienced community during visits. I sang with community in choir practice.

Yet what I sense is that sometimes we become overwhelmed by the number of communities we populate. The time we spend with these communities speaks to how we value that community. The question to ponder is by what gauge do we judge value. Is it how we benefit from the community? Is it how the community benefits others?

The workshop on discipleship spoke about the community called "church." The presenter was making the point that when our church communities gather and plan and program for the benefit of those within, the church does not live out its mandate by Jesus Christ to "Go and make disciples." This model of church will at some point reach its zenith and then begin to diminish. These communities are not sustainable as they draw from the outside only to nourish what is within. When the church community gathers to worship and train and form disciples of Jesus Christ to go out into the world, that the world might be saved, the community called church will thrive. The focus of the community shifts from the self to the other. These are sustainable communities as they use what they gain to nourish the world with love and mercy. This nourishment is returned back into the community as others come to worship and be trained to go out into the world.

I work with leadership challenged by visioning what it means to be a community church where we are planted. It was good to be in a training space for shifting perceptions. Rather than see all the communities as competing for the time and talent of members of the church community, I saw each of those communities as places for the disciples to be strategically engaged in Kingdom work of compassion and justice. Instead of working to envision a community church, shift our work to be creating disciples. How will we engage members in their discipleship journey of growth? What will be the steps in growing in grace and love?

I am excited about sharing this shift with the leadership. It was like a jolt of espresso for me. I see in my heart multiple communities filled with disciples seeking justice, acting with compassion, and humbly walking with the Lord. I see worship filled with disciples praising God for love so amazing that each person graced by God's love is transformed.

I have been so focused on community that I forgot another word that is so dear to my heart, connection. Through our connections, God's Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven is glimpsed. It is through disciples that connections are made from community to community to community. Time to train.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Holy Fire

2012-01-02T10:02:00.001-05:00

It was New Year's Eve. We were in worship to share with the Lord the things we would prefer not to bring into the new year and also the promises of the year to come. We submitted these to Holy Fire that they might be consumed and the smoke rise to the Lord as a pleasing aroma. I love this service. It is for me a time to share with others how God can be a Holy Fire in our lives, purifying us for God's holy purpose. As we exit the well lit and warm sanctuary and walk out into the dark of the night we see this blaze of light and the darkness is diminished. The warmth of the fire beckons us. There is such freedom in watching what has been corroding our souls be turned to ash. The lightness of the conversation that follows is evidence of the work of the Holy Spirit in these moments. Community gathered and sharing in the hopes and visions for God's future with us. Voices clear and bright singing together as we end the night.

In these simple moments of surrender God does such powerful work in our lives. Often we do not even know the work that He has begun and will bring to completion. We just know the glow of the firelight, the warmth of community, and the joy of a celebration. And so the year ends. I always marvel at the wonder of God's grace in the year that was. I see His mighty power and glory in the work that is done in and through those I serve. Each year I schedule and plan and execute the plans I have made and then witness to God's movement in those schedules and plans as they are transformed by God through the servants He brings into the work with me. When I hold the schedules and plans loosely so that God is truly in control, transformation happens. Learning to hold loosely is a lesson in surrender. My prayer for this year is that my surrender allows joy, allows love, allows God to use me in transformative ways with those I am called to serve.

One of Many

End of the Year Musings

2011-12-29T12:24:00.001-05:00

My heart has been holding many things during this Advent and Christmas season. I could even borrow a scripture reference and say I have been "pondering them in my heart." So where to begin.

I will start with my mornings. I always begin my day with my favorite morning news show. Since Thanksgiving this show has been both a delight and a source of reflection. I have noticed this growing trend to share with us the deals for spending our money. Now, I cannot say if that is good or bad, just that it is where this "holding in my heart" has begun. They end the show (or close to the end) with this, so our last thoughts are not on the community they form or relationships or critical stories that should cause us to go "Hmmm." Instead our thoughts may be on the best deal...I have learned that all things must begin well and end well. If they do not begin well, people tune out. Where things end will be people's last impression of the event. What good happens in the middle can be lost because of bad beginnings or endings. So to have a show end on spending, I take from that, day after day, week after week, the message that the show, the network, the advertisers, are conveying is that our worth, our value, our growth as a culture depends on our spending, our consuming the resources of the world.

So then my thoughts take a wider view and I wonder if we (myself included) haven't gotten caught up in this extravagant lifestyle of spending, of having, of discarding, of spending again. Suddenly I am caught up short when I realize, it is only the affluent cultures who deal with this phenomena. Even in our poverty in affluence we see the "need" to have the latest or the best of...

Before I go too far on this tirade of spending wonder, I stop and ask myself, what if...what if we chose to be different. What if we looked to what truly matters in the world and were extravagant in how we lived that out in our lives. So I guess this could be another place of contention, that for one person or another what truly matters is different. Since this is my blog, I will share what I believe truly matters. If you have been reading my blogs, you probably already know what truly matters to me, community. So what does a community need to thrive? It is the question on my heart as I am part of a leadership team at my church to create that vision and work to develop the ways to grow us into that vision.

Begin with the basics. Shelter, food, clothing, and the means to supply shelter, food and clothing. What brings a community together? Common needs? Common interests? Common threats? The reasons vary in every instance. I cannot help but think of the great philosophers and sociologists and psychologists who have tried to understand and create communities based on their theories. Then I recall the one I follow, Jesus Christ. God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit created community, created the universe and had one underlying word, love. So if the common need, common interest is love, what would the common threat be to that love? My first reaction is selfishness. When our love is turned inward to self gratification, we make choices that harm ourselves and those in our community. My second reaction is power and control. When we seek personal control or personal power within the community we make choices that do violence to others and harm ourselves. Yet each of us is human and self preservation will cause us to make choices out of fear, so our choice will be selfish, our choice will be to garner power, our choice will be to attempt control to lessen the threat. Also those who covet power and control recognize our tendency towards selfishness and foster that with temptations for our personal pleasure that in turn gives them more power and control as we strive to acquire what we covet.

With all this said, I stop and marvel that God continues to love us. We are such broken creatures. We cannot see God's vision for our future because there are too many veils we need to remove and we are reluctant to remove even one for fear our fragile hold on reality will break. We cannot imagine how the world would look if we saw it through God's eyes. Or maybe we can. Maybe we have peaked around those veils and seen and realized how much we have to let go of for God's world to be the only reality. And still, God love us and desires for us to be reconciled to God and to one another. For God so loved the world, for God so loves the world...if we could only love the world as God loves us.

Back to how then do we live out our lives in community with God and with the world in such a way as to honor God, honor one another, and honor all of creation? I believe it begins with learning to do this by making even our smallest decisions with that question in mind. For example, where we shop for food, the packaging around the food, the bags the food is placed in for us to bring home, the chemicals in the food to enhance its marketability, the growers, and the distributors all are impacted by our purchase or our decision not to purchase. I know I do not often carry those big questions with me into the grocery store and yet I should.

I realize I have done, even in this blog, what we do that pulls us away from one another. I moved into issues rather than spoke of connections. I am not blind that the issues are just as connected. It is the transformation of community that is important for me, transforming us into the image of the Body of Christ. It is those connections of tissue and fiber, of muscle and bone, of nerve and blood that need to honored and healed. So healing begins with understanding the disease or the injury. Sometimes it is simply not disease or injury but the movement of time and age. In the community I have been called to serve, we are aging. It is the primary disease we are facing, yet the soil has been turned and new growth is emerging.

It is our aging that I have also held in my heart because I believe God is speaking to all of us about aging and community. I have seen it done well. I have seen it done poorly. I have seen it done in community and I have been witness to aging and dying in loneliness. I believe that a healthy Body of Christ has all aspects of the creative process within it. We have new birth and we have death and we have new birth and we have death. We experience the growth of the cycles of life in community. When any of the phases are missing we are broken. I can see a community that embraces all aspects of life. I see it with gardens, sewing circles, kitchens, classrooms, potter's wheel, and in the center a place to worship Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I see the wise elders watching the young. I see the craftsmen out in the community making homes safe, warm, and dry. I see stories told. We are called to live in the world and be witness to how God would have us live.

One final note, I am not saying we separate from the world or its values because if we do, then the world is truly lost. God became flesh and dwelt among us. God loves the world and desires we love the world too. It is how we live and work in the world, our connections, our community that God would see transformed.

More ponderings to come.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Christmas Surprises

2011-12-27T10:58:00.001-05:00

This Christmas I received the best surprise. It was a beautiful day. The air was crisp and cool. The sun was shining. My son was sleeping on the comfy couch and I was loading his stocking. He had already "loaded" his Dad's and mine. I spent a quiet time with the Lord preparing my heart and mind for worship that morning. As I ventured down the hall to make coffee, my son greeted me with "Merry Christmas." Two coffees made and we decided it was time to wake the man, when low and behold, he too came strolling down the long hall. Have I mentioned my parsonage has a very long hall. It has become essential in my exercise program for weight loss. Praise the Lord for long halls. Back to Christmas. So we gathered and opened our stocking gifts enjoying the surprises on each others' faces. Made our plans for the rest of the day. My husband and I dressed for worship as our son began the preparations for dinner.

Sunday School brought a wonderful time of sharing with those who attended. I think the Dunkin Donuts helped with the festive feel. Worship began with "Come on Ring Those Bells." We sang carols, heard scripture, the choir sang, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day." The sanctuary was filled with the joy and wonder of Christmas. As we began to depart for our separate homes, I heard the sadness and fear that some members were carrying this season. I again felt that paradox of the season, the tension between joy and sorrow, the tension between God's promise of peace on earth and a world at war, the tension between God's will for the world and our will within the world.

I gathered the poinsettia and headed for the long term care facility to deliver the flower. As we (husband and I) walked down the hall wishing "Merry Christmas" to residents and staff, I realized how poorly we provide care for the aging, the challenged, and the broken people of our world. Again, I was surprised by the paradox. In the middle of the suffering there were people laughing and smiling and sharing Christmas joy and the promise that one day there would be no more suffering, no more disease, no more death. It is just not today. We remain in the season of Advent, waiting.

The resident we came to visit had family with her and was overjoyed for the visit more than the flower. We stayed only a short time as food was before her and ours was waiting at home. Driving up to the house, I noticed a car in the drive and thought, one more delay before I can feast with family. I wondered what member and worried about what their crisis might be to arrive at my door on Christmas Day. My heart was going out to their need, when I was asked by my husband if I knew anyone with a particular car. I realized then that the brown vehicle belonged to my brother. We could not park fast enough as far as I was concerned. My son was opening the door ready to share the news of who was here, and laughed when he realized I already knew. Running in, laughing, I hugged my oldest brother and really did not want to let him go. Since he does not know about my long hugs, I released him rather briefly (for me).

It was as if time stopped for me. We ate the soup our son had cooked. I prepared the stuffing for the turkey. My brother agreed to stay until dinner. Then we went into the living room, my brother ran to get his camera. You see, I didn't want to open presents when there was nothing under the tree for him. He insisted that he would be the camera man! So we opened and he learned that camping was the theme of our Christmas with tents and slow cookers and open fire popcorn cookers, not to mention the roll up table or the ball for making ice cream without power or the screen house or ...yup a camping Christmas. Laughter rang out and the turkey cooked. As my brother asked us to hold up the gifts as he snapped the shots, I again remembered an old family tradition, pictures in our PJs holding presents.

I have come to realize that a late meal gives more time for visiting. You see when the meal is ready to be served as the guests arrive, we focus on food. Then we are all full and tend to seek out places to nap or have difficulty following conversations. With the meal ended we also think about returning home. I was surprised that waiting for the meal creates a very different event. When we have to wait and wait and wait and wait, we focus on one another. Could it be that is what Advent is for? As we wait we focus our attention on the one for whom we wait? Or are we called to focus on one another in the midst of the waiting?

In our waiting, we shared family stories and it felt so wonderful to be with my brother. I again mentioned family reunion...we shall see if I ever get to blog about that awesome event. It just be another paradox.

When the red plastic stick rose up out of the turkey, we feasted and then all too soon I had to say good bye to my brother. We had called our missing siblings and all were making merry, yet voiced a sadness over our being so far apart. It is my prayer that the desire to unite as family grows so strong that the reunion comes into reality rather than remaining a dream.

As he drove away, we reentered the house and began to clean up the unwrapping mess, the debris from dinner and I finally put on some comfy clothes.

With our feet up, the animals all around (son brought his four cats for the holiday), we watched one of our Christmas DVD's. This Christmas cocoon of love continued to envelope me and I fell asleep knowing the gift of love is God's greatest gift to us. I am so thankful that God continues to pour God's love upon me through those God puts into my life. My prayer is that I am one of those carriers, messengers of God's love and joy so that the world may know God's love, God's peace, God's joy and that God reigns!

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Today is his birthday

2011-12-14T22:45:00.000-05:00

Today my son turned 29. It seems odd that he has gotten so old while I remain so young. Truth be told, his birth was a turning point in my life. One so helpless and so open was given into my care by God. The adventure has proven to grow my patience and expand my definition of wonder.

Since Christmas is before us, I cannot help but share the story of his love for Christmas. Each year he set out to decorate the tree, that was his job. His Dad strung lights, he placed the ornaments. Well, he takes his time, setting them out, sighting the tree and placing them with love. Since we no longer live together, he has taken on another family tradition. He has learned to bake Swedish Coffee Bread. Teaching him this handed down tradition has been pure joy. We have only one problem, we learned a bad habit, we begin the process around 9 o'clock at night. Since this bread requires 2 risings as well as a braiding, you can imagine what time the 4 to 6 loaves are finished. He often is up all night long.

I do not know what God has planned for the rest of his life. I am so grateful for each moment he has lived, even those moments when I had to remind him to pick up after himself, do his homework, and wash his clothes. His spirit is so gentle. His willingness to stand for what is right so strong. His love for the defenseless brings out the warrior. But, what touches me most is how he is present to the moment, and lives it fully. His laughter starts deep in his belly and erupts throughout his whole being. If he calls you friend, he will be loyal to you no matter how far you stray.

Happy Birthday Son! May the Lord bless you this year with the vision he has for your future and may you have the courage to step into that vision and give it roots.

On this day, allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Pilgrims all

2011-11-17T08:56:00.001-05:00

We are pilgrims all on the journey towards unity with God and one another. Our faith journey is filled with pilgrimages, some very intentional and some spontaneous movements of the Holy Spirit. Just recently I went on an intentional pilgrimage with some of the youth of the church I serve, an event my conference calls Pilgrimage. Youth and youth workers travel from their homes and home churches to gather together for worship and teaching. This year, well over 5,000 of us sang God's praise in a coliseum. What struck me during this pilgrimage is that the real joy of these events is the connections. The Body of Christ is a powerful community. We are more than community, we are family. We need to stop at times and gather to remember how God loves us and that we are not alone but connected through our relationship with God the Father through Jesus Christ His Son. When we gather in large numbers, the presence of the Holy Spirit is evident through the sights and sounds all around us. For those of us who come empty, Pilgrimage can be a time of refueling through worship, through Holy Communion, through spending time with old friends, through making new friends, through learning ways to serve, through serving.

Connection seems to be the word that resonated and reverberated throughout this pilgrimage for me. I reconnected with youth from my first appointment as well as their adult leaders. In the massive stream of youth and workers I would suddenly see a familiar face and interrupt the momentum of the stream to stop and hug this kindred soul. There was one hug in particular that stood out for me. It came from a woman "bursting with beautiful." It was filled with grace and peace and a reminder from God that some connections are meant to be more than fleeting moments on the journey. As pilgrims all we journey together which means we are to nurture our connections with one another. God is active in those connections and through those connections we can be agents of transformation.

The young pilgrims with whom I ventured on this sojourn brought some amazing adults with them. We all lived together for three days and two nights. The fire pit was the center of our circle of conversation or rather the center of our musical chairs. Sometimes it even had a fire. The frost on the tent did not cool the warmth of God's love. Their bodies shivered from the cold while they roasted marshmallows late that first night. Even in the cold they could speak of what they had heard about God's love.

Two phrases continue to haunt me from our pilgrimage, "God loves you and there is nothing you can do about it," and "bursting with beautiful." I was grateful that these youth and adults could hear those words, that I could hear those words. Words are inadequate to describe how I saw beautiful bursting out of the youth. The adult volunteers were tangible proof of God's love for each young person present. So very grateful that each who came allowed joy, allowed love, allowed God to touch their lives and my life through them on our pilgrimage. We are pilgrims all.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

My Veteran

2011-11-11T09:43:00.001-05:00

On this Veteran's Day I recognize how personal the holiday can be. You see I have been married almost 34 years (though have shared almost 40 years of my life) to my veteran. I have watched him serve his country with all the passion that makes him the champion I love. He is my hero. He champions those who need a crusader. He worked hard to teach those who served under him how to live not just survive. His humor providing needed breathing spots. Each year he served he shared the best of him and the worst of him to help mold others to serve with distinction. Now retired 8 years I watch him continue to be a champion and a hero. He still looks out for the underdog. He still calls the bluff of the one who is attempting to shirk responsibility (whether corporate or personal). He still seeks to bring about a better world.

I cannot help but think about the other families of veterans, living or deceased. Each family has a unique story as does each veteran. So many so broken. So many overcoming brokenness to live heroic lives. So many in need of support and encouragement to travel the path to healing and wholeness. Some very lost and need to be found.

Then I hear Jesus Christ who healed the sick and wounded, who travels with us along the path to healing and wholeness, who stood in the meeting place in Nazareth and proclaimed the year of the Lord's favor, the Reign of God, the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven, calling us to live out that Kingdom through our lives by seeking out those who are lost, by bringing those in need of healing to the places where they can receive the guidance to be healed. The peace of Christ is like no peace humankind can negotiate. It is a peace that begins in the heart and extends out into the world through the love of God and by the power of the Holy Spirit. When that peace reigns, war will be no more. In Revelation we are told the Kingdom will come and there will be no more death, no more sickness, no more tears. It is my prayer that until that time, we who can will extend the heart of Christ to those who are in need of heart healing, reach out and touch the brokenhearted, that the peace of Christ may transform the world.

Those who stand in gaps we cannot fathom are heroes. Our veterans have stood in gaps, their families have stood in gaps. Christ calls us to stand in the gap until he comes again.

Thank you - all of you who have served and stood in gaps.
One of Many

Abby's understanding of Sabbath Rest

2011-11-02T09:13:00.001-04:00

All Saints' Day

2011-11-01T17:34:00.000-04:00

Today surrounding me has been this great cloud of witnesses. My memories have been fresh and sweet. I have heard my son's laughter over sock balls and tickle torture. I have smelled my mother's apple pie. I have felt the strong arms of my father holding me tight. More memories surge. Nana's voice as she shared with me the secret of dipping zwieback toast into our afternoon tea to sweeten the tea and soften the bread. I feel the elevator rising as we travel to the ninth floor of my other Nana's apartment in Hartford, CT. The saints of my family who are now singing songs in the throne room of God. Still more memories come. Conversations I have had with church members before they too went home to their Lord. I see men and women who taught me about faith and about life through their own personal stories. I remember an 82 year old woman starting a soup kitchen in her church. I remember a 90 year old woman whose home was a haven for all the children of her community and the stories of those men and women who put their feet under her table, including some of the ministers who served her church. Always room for one more. Then there was the 84 year old man who took stands in the coastal plains of North Carolina to preserve valued land for the natural balance of wetlands to dry lands. These few mentioned only scratch the surface of the saints of God whose journey I shared if only briefly. Then I hear a bright clear voice singing hymns of praise in heaven and remember the woman whose voice was an echo of her spirit and love. Just recently in our conference we lost a District Superintendent whose life was a witness to how God loves you and me.

Each day more are added to the number. As I was reading commentaries on the Revelation passage for All Saints' Day I remembered that their journey was not an easy passage. Each of these saints was also a sinner. Each of these saints spent time being refined by God's Holy Spirit fire. Each of these saints spent time in the world testifying through their own life's story of the transforming power of God's love. Simple people who made choices that bettered the world. Simple people who took risks because situations called for them to take risks.

While all these memories stir in my heart, in my head I see the visions of the saints of tomorrow. You see, where I am serving and where I have served, I have seen these saints. I am continually humbled by these young people who know how to share when they see a need before them. I watched as a youth group included a young man with autism into their group with compassion and gentleness. I have seen young men and women fasting for the hungry of the world and in the midst of that fast clean the bottom of a summer camp's pool. I have heard high school seniors share their testimony with the congregations that has raised them in their faith. Recently, I watched a young woman share leadership roles in worship with others rather than keep them all to herself. I learned of a young man who took an unpopular stand because it was the right thing to do. I have been asked over and over again by these saints of tomorrow, "Can we serve?" Saints every one of them. All willing to surrender to the Refiner's fire.

So today my memories remind me that saints abound here on earth willing to take risks for the Gospel message of love, of peace, of reconciliation, of community because they allow joy, allow love, allow God to guide their every step. My prayer is that one day I too will be counted as a saint of God.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Refresh

2011-10-12T10:30:00.000-04:00

We have begun a new worship experience at Plank Chapel. We call it Refresh. Since our first night of worship, I have seen the work of God in our midst. It is not only impacting those who are attending, it is working through those who are part of the leadership in worship. We all are refreshed by these moments together. It is still formative in all our hearts as we work to serve as God is leading us to serve at this twilight hour of the day. It is an interesting time for worship. It is at a transition between day and night, a between time.

Have you noticed how God works in those between times, when one event has ended and we wait for the next to begin. It is there in the between times that we are refreshed. We are made new as we stretch into the changes created by the previous event. Between times are also difficult. There is awkwardness with our new sense of self. We struggle with this new form trying to have it conform to what we knew while it is working within us to transform us into what we are created to be. How is this refreshing? It happens in the movement from the one to the other. It happens in the breathing as we inhale, wait, and exhale. It happens as we turn and discover we are changed. It happens as the transition between day and night completes. When we exhale and know down deep that we have been shaped by the Creator. The process of changing within may not be observed, but those who see us, see the reflection of God's love in our lives.

I continue in the between times, continuing to be formed, informed, reformed, conformed, always transforming. I am grateful for times where I can be refreshed by the Holy Spirit for the work before me. I am grateful for those who come weekly to be refreshed as they too are in the between times being formed, informed, reformed, conforming, always transforming. Together in our worship we allow joy, allow love, allow God that we might be refreshed.

One of Many

Sojourner's Verse and Voice - Voice of the Day

2011-10-08T09:45:00.000-04:00

"We can create a world as yet unimagined, a world undreamed, yet dimly felt. We are like the corn. Mysteriously hidden within each of us are the seeds that can germinate into a new society, a new planet. Like the corn, we have hidden deep within our living process a wisdom that reaches back to all knowledge and beyond to all possibilities."

- Anne Wilson Schaef

Broken Vessels

2011-10-07T14:55:00.000-04:00

Today, as I was intent on resting and enjoying a good book, I realized how much of our energy is given to brokenness. Just this past week, as I worked through issues with my son, I said to him, "love always wins." He too is struggling in a broken world with broken people and facing his own brokenness. I tested myself to see if I believed that "love always wins." Discovered how deeply I believe this. Also discovered that the sermon for Sunday will be filled with this passion and faith.

Every day I face not only the brokenness of those I love, but my own. Every day I face a broken world. Today I cannot help but reflect on what it means that love always wins. So I write. What comes into my head through my heart is that in the midst of all the world throws at us, only love transforms us into the people we are created to be. I sometimes wonder why I keep broken figures or furniture, until I realize the warmth and beauty each item holds by the memory attached, a memory of love.

Recently I have been talking a lot about a vision for our future to those I have been called to serve. The conversation also includes personal visions. This has led me to wonder about my own vision of the future God is calling me into and I see one from my past transformed. It has to do with how passionately I believe love always wins. I have always wanted my home to be a place of peace. When people come they come and can rest their souls. When they enter my home they know they are loved unconditionally. I have recently come to understand that this is part of a larger vision God has for me. My vision is of a place of healing. A place where the broken can come and be healed. A place where the broken learn of their beauty, their beauty within their brokenness. It is a vision of a place where we learn the importance of a touch, the warmth of a hug. We begin to see the value in all that God created. We see the wonder in those so broken that we can love even the unlovable. We learn to value not what we own but what we can share.

Somehow we have become so broken we cannot help but see the world as a place filled with evil. We seek out distractions to avoid looking at the evil and not recognize the evil in the distractions. Little things become important and important things impossible. It is this precarious balance on a high wire without a pole or safety net. We keep walking tilting and struggling with one foot in front of the other hoping that one day we will reach the other end only to find when we get there it is a small place to rest before we chose to step out onto the next wire. If we get the right job, buy the latest thing, happiness will come.

We get so caught up, we almost miss it. Love. If we turn into a moment and see what truly matters, we find love. There is no need to balance anything when we discover how love holds us above the raging waters. There is this story about Jesus and Peter and walking on water. When Peter was focused on what truly matters, focused on Jesus, focused on love, he was able to walk on water. When Peter became distracted he lost his balance, his buoyancy and began to sink. Jesus did not let him sink. Love came through and lifted Peter up. It happens again and again and again in the scriptures that the focus of our attention is shifted to worldly concerns and worldly estimates of power and honor and glory. Each time we shift our focus away from God, away from love, more brokenness occurs. There is war. There is intrigue. There is death. Then in the midst of the brokenness, there is forgiveness, healing, reconciliation, love and the broken vessel becomes an instrument of love and beauty whose purpose is to serve God and share the love God has for us.

Yet it is eons since creation and we continue to lose focus. So what about this vision of mine of a place of healing. I just chuckled because it is not my vision, but God's vision placed within me. A long time ago it seems I spoke of the pebble thrown into a still pond and the ripples across the water from its entry. I even spoke of the landscape at the bottom forever changed by the addition of the pebble. That image today still holds power for me. I still believe that the world can be transformed through our willingness to be servants of God who only allow joy, allow love, allow God to rule in our hearts. It is not doing big things. It is being, truly being who God created us to be, embracing our brokenness and opening our lives to God for healing through the healers God sends into our lives. This means spaces, places, communities whose purpose is to love, to heal those who come, who sojourn to our doors. It is understanding the brokenness within each and bringing what gifts and graces we have to provide the time and space for healing to occur. It is not easy work. There is no guarantee that those who come truly wish to be healed. What is important is that the space is created for a transformative encounter between the broken and God.

My vision is of a healing place. God continues to take that vision and work it within me. I see a great kitchen and smell exotic spices as food is prepared with loving hands and a hearty laugh. I hear laughter throughout. There is this great stone fireplace with comfortable overstuffed chairs. People are curled up in the chairs holding cups with steam rising from the rims. Cats are rubbing up against the legs of those in the chairs, purring their contentment. The trees seen through the windows are this deep emerald green. Perched on the trees are birds chattering their news one to another. If we look through the dark brown trunks of the trees we see the rich blues from the water's surface. It is a temporary home of healing. It is one house within a village. Children's voices calling out to one another as they play in the warmth of the sunshine. The air is crisp and slightly cool to each breath I take. Dogs are barking with excitement. In the distance the peel of the bells from the church steeple reminds me of the hour, of my place within this community and I know the peace that Christ gives within my heart.

Love always wins. The world will be transformed by love and only love. It begins with us. It is our choice to allow joy, allow love, allow God to be our guide, our focus, our Lord.

One of Many

Maine and Birthdays

2011-09-21T09:07:00.000-04:00

This year for my birthday I ventured to my favorite state, Maine. I got to explore the coast and walk on rocks with the ocean splashing and spraying all around me. It is amazing what the body remembers. The smell of the beach with the seaweed strewn kindled in me walks on Rye Beach, New Hampshire as the sun set with a musician standing on the rocks playing Amazing Grace on bagpipes. My feet jumped out of my shoes so that they could mold themselves around the granite that met the sea with boldness. My hair whipped by the wind and my face dusted with the foggy mist as I faced the ocean and surrendered to the mighty power of God. Within these moments the images of past trips and people merged with the present. I traveled with 3 women, creating new memories. It was familiar places, new faces, and a new understanding about the communion of saints.

One of the most interesting aspects of this trip was the mixing of past and present in each moment. Each taste, each smell, each step, each sight, each touch was this wonderful combination of a new experience that had layers of past experiences. I knew then that those whom I love are with me always whether they have gone before me to a heavenly shore or live across the country. It was not only past and present combined, I also imagined the ones I would bring in the future. There in that place, past, present, and future were one. The communion of saints, all those I love present in the moment. God so clear, so real. I can smell the salt and hear the voices singing praise to the one who created the beauty before me, within me, and all around me. So this morning I offer just a glimpse of a gift given to me on my birthday, a gift of love that began long before I was formed in my mother's womb and will continue into eternity when I am on that heavenly shore walking barefoot with my Lord and Savior.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Community

2011-08-19T10:12:00.000-04:00

Yesterday morning, I was engaged in my morning routine of drinking coffee and watching my morning show (almost said early morning but the clock tells me I am not an early riser). Anyway, the hour I watch the show, the news is minimal, the reporting not award winning, yet, I never try another morning show. That particular morning it became clear why I watch the show.

They were doing a segment on a music video made about breast cancer, a real life issue for one of the co-hosts. After the video played and the group in the studio came on camera, there were four individuals sitting on a couch, in tears (including the men). I watched the depth of relationship, of love, of community, displayed on camera and realized that I watch this show because of the engaged relationships of the hosts. I somehow feel like part of their community. I have seen them overcome their fears. I have laughed at their puns and jabs to one another. In the midst of telling us the news we believe we want to hear, sharing the weather that never changes every 20 minutes or so, and giving us mini concerts from the bands I have no clue what made them so popular, these hosts embody community. Between the takes, we the viewers get tidbits of their lives. We learn of their families, their pets, and some stories they share are personal. I have watched them support one another in difficult stories and encourage one another to achieve goals.

But when that hour of my day is over, it is time to engage in the work before me for that day. I turn the TV off and the community I observed is disconnected from my life, but not the lessons I learn from those two to five minute glimpses between the news stories. I do not know if the relationships they show us in their morning show are as real and connected as they appear on my TV, that is not the point for me. I have not connected to these hosts through social media to follow them or be connected to them in community, as that is not the point for me, either. For me it is that as I watch each morning I can see how human beings are intended to relate to one another. One might say it is a foretaste. I am reminded that community grows when we are willing to risk ourselves for others in love. These hosts open themselves to each other, make themselves available to one another, and we the viewer get to witness how relationships form and grow. We see the nourishment that love gives to lives.

What we do not see is the hard work of relationship building and community. It is why when the hour is over, I disconnect from that community and engage in the work in the community to which I have been called to serve. Community is what creation is all about. God created a universe that only works well when all work towards the good of the universe. When we separate our needs, or more specifically our wants, from the needs of the community, we harm the community.

One quick example. I have been walking Abby recently. (Have not yet made this a good daily habit, but working towards that goal.) We make a round trip from parsonage to the church and graveyard and back, about 2 miles. In those two miles I observe trash along the roadside. I know which fast food restaurants are frequented. I get a glimpse of the beer some passengers (I hope just the passengers) enjoy. This trash is not only inconvenient (having to walk around it or through it), unsightly, but it is harmful to the environment. Some of the food left on the road is not what the wild animals need to eat. They certainly do not need to ingest the plastic or paper products. Yet, someone had the need to rid their vehicle of this trash. The personal needs or desires outweighed the communal impact of their actions.

The communal response is to post signs and attach fines. This only works if we know who threw the trash and if they pay the penalty. Other responses include having prisoners pick up trash along roadways or groups adopting parts of roads to be their responsibility to clean. The question this morning is how do we empower individuals to consider communal consequences for individual actions?

This is a question that is as old as creation itself. We have not come up with the answer ourselves, obviously. Instead we create rules and governing bodies to enforce the rules and institutions to house the violators of the rules. All this works when the community has faith in the governing body or when the governing body has enough muscle to generate fear. But...but...what about the empowerment of individuals to consider communal consequences?

In the Gospel of John, Jesus tells his disciples to love one another. In that particular passage he speaks of a love such that one would lay down his life for another. One simple command, a command to love. Communities are the places where we learn to love. They can also be the places where we learn about hate, greed, envy, and power. The choice remains with the community. We can choose to invest in the building of relationships with love or choose to tear down relationships through gossip, distrust, envy, or hate. The more difficult road is the road of love. It means at some point denying self for others. It means at some point turning towards an enemy with unconditional love and asking for mercy, asking for forgiveness. It means loving each other enough to say no when saying yes would be harmful to another or harmful to the community.

Each morning what I experience watching my morning show are hosts who appear to be doing that hard work, that are choosing the difficult road of love and I have hope. I am also reminded that the way for me to build relationships of love and hope and redemption that strengthen and empower communities is to be engaged in a loving relationship with God. Sabbath is a time of separating from communal responsibilities to rest in the presence of a communal God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Only through the power of the Holy Spirit will I be able to love unconditionally.

Today as I spend time alone with my Lord in prayer, I will offer to him my hopes for the community I serve. I have seen pain and suffering through the eyes of my neighbors. As I hold the hands of those with whom I pray, I experience their brokenness and God's healing love. With arms wrapped in a hug, I am privileged to touch their joy in the midst of their troubles. My prayer will also be for God to guide me towards an understanding of how to live out his command to love one another. Through God's guidance I will be able to share how others can allow joy, allow love, allow God to guide them.

One of Many

Eagle's Wings

2011-08-16T16:33:00.000-04:00

I was sitting outside enjoying a warm summer day when I noticed that the tree in the corner looked like a bird with wings wide spread. I heard the chorus in my head, "And God will raise you up on eagle's wings, bear you on the breath of dawn, make you to shine like the sun, and hold you in the palm of God's hand." What a beautiful image for this day and song for my heart. God is sufficient.

Then my mind wandered. I thought of the image I was seeing. This magnificent image of a bird in flight that set my soul to soaring was created by vines that have encased the trees growing and spreading throughout the woods behind the parsonage. The reality for the tree is that it is surrendering its life to these vines. Then I thought about the places in my life where I believed I saw God at work, but found it to be an image that was breathtaking on the outside and what created the image, what was holding it in place was dying. The image more important than the One who had given the vision to the community. What was needed for life to spring forth was to cut back the beautiful growth and expose the framework to the healing power of the Son.

Then I remembered I had a picture from the winter of the same view. I decided I needed to know what was tree and what was vine. Just as I have had to discern in my faith journey what was of God and what had only an image of a Godly path. For the tree, the shape of a bird in flight is not so clear. I am instead reminded of a person with raised hands in a flowing robe. Both images, both figures are open and vulnerable. Just as the tree is vulnerable to the vines, I too am vulnerable when I open myself to the world around me. Is that not what a life of faith is about, being open and vulnerable, knowing God will hold us in the palm of God's hand? God bearing me on the breath of dawn requires me to open wide my arms and not resist the pull of God's will. God will make me shine like the sun when I turn towards God's light and God's love because I will be the reflection of God's love upon me towards the world. God is sufficient.

It is always fun to see images in clouds or in trees that fleetingly hold my heart, images that can bring to my remembrance hymns of praise or words of faith. I love how the images in clouds can change even as I see them. I remember then that they are not real, only God is real. The trees in the field have given me images of faith this day for which I am grateful. There could be a moment when Kudzu holds a moment of God's grace.

All I have to do is allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Sojourner's Verse and Voice - July 20, 2011

2011-08-10T12:56:00.001-04:00

"We can of course shake off the burden which is laid upon us, but only find that we have a still heavier burden to carry -- a yoke of our own choosing, the yoke of our self. But Jesus invites all who travail and are heavy laden to throw off their own yoke and take his yoke upon them -- and his yoke is easy, and his burden is light. The yoke and burden of Christ are his cross."

- Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Birthdays

2011-08-10T09:19:00.001-04:00

This past week has been one of celebrating birthdays. My husband became two years older than me for about 40 days. So cake was made (he chose one that fit my diet plan), boiled dinner purchased and cooked, ice cream selected. Okay, I have to stop here. A lot of ice cream was purchased. I had to buy one for each of us. You see he loves strawberry. I love black raspberry (and they had some). Our student loves mint chocolate chip and since her birthday was the day after my husband's I naturally had to buy her favorite as well. Oh, and bake her her own cake.

The wonder of my husband is his love for animated movies (that is just one of the wonders of my husband). He loves a good children's story told well. So he got an old favorite for his birthday. We spent that night watching all those children's movies that can make you laugh and cry. So, our student (now this is not a young girl, this is a young woman in graduate work, studying for her Masters of Divinity) also loves animated movies. Laughter was part of the evening as we sat and ate cake and ice cream in front of the not so "large screen TV."

Birthdays are these amazing moments that help us to realize how wonderful are the works of God. I cannot help but be in awe of the creative power of God. I understand how loved I am when I think of the gift of people I have been given through their birth into the world. On days that are the anniversaries of the births of my family, some still living, some deceased, I give thanks to my creator for each of them. Then there are all these unrelated people. I was going to say by blood, but if we are brothers and sisters in Christ, then we are related by blood, the blood of Jesus. So I have a plethora of family of whom each is a unique and special creation of God. To me it is like walking upon a field of wild flowers and the colors are this rainbow palette that cause me to hold my breath in awe. Then I am given further gifts through the birth of others of different faith traditions, or no faith tradition who touch my life with their unique beauty.

So today I know somewhere, someone is celebrating a birthday. I give thanks to the creator for your birth. My prayer for each of you today is that on this day you will allow joy, allow love, allow God to show you how magnificent you are.

One of Many

Horses

2011-08-08T12:54:00.000-04:00

Having lived in Kittrell for over a year now, I have developed a fascination with the horses that graze in the pastures around the parsonage. There are two in particular that seem to catch my eye each time I go by. The reason for this is that it is very rare to see their faces. Normally these two white horses can be found standing in the corner of their fenced pasture with their rear ends facing the road. There are rare occasions when they are facing the road, and normally not both of them at the same time. So each time approaching their turn in the road, I wonder, will it be today?

Low and behold, the day arrived. We were leaving Kittrell to go out to dinner when we came down over the hill and turned into their curve to find both of them facing the road. The laughter in the car was out of sheer joy and wonderment. Now my husband could not understand the uncontrollable laughter of the women riding with him. He did not quite get that these horses were part of a mystery.

Here is how I understand this mystery. These horses are a part of my life here in Kittrell. I am a casual observer to the life of two horses. I know little of how they are related to one another. To be more specific, I know nothing about their relationship. I could not even tell you if they were both male or female. If memory serves me well, one may be male. Who owns them? Again, a fact that is not mine to share, though I believe at one time I was told who owns the land where they pasture. What prompts them to stand in that corner is also a mystery. Their normal stance of derriere towards the road may have reasons not yet discovered. As the casual observer, I could comment on their habits, make judgments on their rude behaviors, and continually wonder when they would turn and notice me. Granted I was traveling in an enclosed vehicle without any opportunity to make physical contact. I have not stopped to form a relationship with these horses, yet, I tell others how these horses are part of my life in Kittrell. When they turned and faced the road, I could then be observed by them. They could become the casual observers of the life of a rural pastor. They could wonder why I stare at them but fail to stop. They might find my behavior rude. They may wonder if I have noticed them, why I haven't made contact with them.

Which leads me to wonder about our lives of faith. Do we confine the Good Shepherd to a fenced in green pasture? By doing so, we can be casual Christians. We can wonder whether God ever notices us or simply has turned God's backside to us. (If memory serves me correctly, that is the only side Moses was allowed to see.) We can keep God in the pasture for convenience and only come to our remembrance when we happen past that pasture. Often we are traveling so fast we may miss the fact that God has turned and looked right at us, seeing through our casual encounter. Then we might realize the one fenced in is not God but me or you, the would be traveler. God is on the road wondering when we will turn and seek God's face. God is calling us out of the pasture and onto the road to travel with God.

Then I thought again about God in community. How often are we casual observers of the lives of the people with whom we live? Do we choose not to encounter our neighbors when we believe they have turned their backs on us? Are we waiting for them to turn and notice us traveling by? Do we fence ourselves in to create barriers between our neighbors and ourselves? If we were to stop long enough to move from observing to sharing might we encounter God in our midst?

When I think about stopping to touch the horses, I hesitate. Horses are beautiful and powerful and a little scary to me. The times I have been up close to a horse have been moments of wonder. Their noses are soft to the touch. Their flesh quivers as it is gently stroked. Knowing all this, I still drive past. I still hesitate, afraid it might appear rather strange. Isn't that what keeps us from closer encounters in our community? Fear. We are afraid how we will appear, yet we remember when we take the risks the joy of the relationship outweighs the fear.

Since I began writing this post, I have observed my horses many times. They are breaking their patterns with each new sighting. Recently they were walking away from the road and turned their heads as the car sped by. Then there was the time when they were in the corner with one facing the road and one with the backside clearly presented to the passerby. Did you notice I wrote, my horses. Funny how I take ownership of animals I do not even touch. For a relationship to be real and true, touch is important. It reminds us of our connections. Watching these two white horses has led to interesting conversations on how their position in the pasture impacts the course of my life. These conversations have been filled with great humor. There is no real connection between these horses and my life. What is real, what is true is my connection to the people in the community through touch, through time, through conversations. This connection, this relationship is what God wants for each of us, to connect to God through our connections with one another.

I am so grateful that God is not fenced in and neither am I. I travel the roads with God so that through the connections each encounter is a place to allow joy, allow love, allow God.

One of Many

Summer time volunteers

2011-07-19T17:22:00.000-04:00

I was just thinking about summer camps. I was thinking how many volunteers travel all over the world to offer camping experiences to children and youth. These camps range from physically challenging to spiritually enriching. Primarily they are life changing for the children and youth. They also change the lives of the people attending. Why is it we do this?

I have a thought, imagine that. I know why I do it. It began with my own family and camping. Summers were the times we would pack up our tents and head to the water. There we would make base camp and enjoy time around campfires. This progressed to Girl Scout Camps and making Indian Pudding over the coals of a camp fire. Ghost stories in tents topped evenings of S'Mores. All the time I was loved and nurtured by the adults leading these experiences who believed in me and challenged me.

When my son was old enough for camp, I sent him. His experiences were not as enriching as cabin bullies bullied, so I switched venues from the church camps to Boy Scout Camps. There he learned to weave baskets (under careful direction), shoot arrows, hike, read maps, cook cobblers in dutch ovens, canoe, swim, life guard. He went from camper to volunteer to paid staff. He loves watching young people learn skills and achieve goals.

As a member of a faith community, I have been involved in an interesting phenomena called "Vacation Bible School." This week long camp happens at local churches throughout the summer. I think what I take away each year is the wonder of the children and youth who attend. They are so filled with the love of God shown to them by the volunteers who work so hard to make the experience rich and rewarding. You guessed it, I even would recruit my son to serve as staff, or as he would put it, he would get voluntold.

Now I am at a youth event called Annual Conference Session for Youth. I was listening to the stories of the 60 years this event has taken place. I looked around and considered how many adults, young and old served as unpaid staff, as volunteers to provide this opportunity for youth to deepen their relationship with God through Jesus Christ the son by the power of the Holy Spirit. I sat in awe and wonder.

Then to think up in Vance County, there are a group of adults who consider it their ministry to offer a camp experience to youth who may not get that opportunity otherwise. As I thought of that group, others continued to come to my remembrance.

As I sit in humble gratitude for all the volunteers, those in country and those who travel out of country for the same purpose, I cannot help but have hope. Hope because these volunteers share joy, share love, share God as they have allowed joy, allowed love, allowed God into their own lives. Opportunities are continually given to our children and youth to know joy, know love, and know God because of these volunteers. Praise be to God for volunteers.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Vacation Bible School

2011-07-08T15:07:00.000-04:00

I am still resting from our time at "Shake It Up Cafe." What energy, what joy, what love flowed through the education wing of the church. There were so many places to look to see Jesus at work in our midst. Beyond being awed by the volunteers and hours given to create the transformation of our education wing into a cafe and boulevard, there were the children and youth with eager hearts and inquisitive minds. They were hungry for what we offered at the cafe, the unconditional love of God. They were fed physically and spiritually. Those of us serving this physical and spiritual food left with overflowing hearts.

I give thanks with a grateful heart to the Holy One for the gift of Jesus Christ His Son. I give thanks for the gift of community through whom that gift flows out to others.

One of Many

Holy Spirit Moments

2011-06-25T07:46:00.000-04:00

Last week I was ordained, in fact on this day last week. It was a Holy Spirit moment. I had journeyed long towards that moment when the Bishop would lay hands on me and place the stole, the yoke of office, around my neck. Yet I would not be there on that kneeler without all the people who journeyed with me. I am so grateful for the mentors, the friends, my family, the people I serve alongside, who guided, strengthened, consoled, counseled, forgave, encouraged, corrected, and loved me as I grew towards that moment.

So many have been part of God's refining fire to shape my spirit. The refining is not done, I am well aware. I am taking a Sabbath rest to reflect on how it is through community that God shapes us. The hands upon my head and shoulders were representatives of hands through time. Not only the apostolic succession of hands laid, but through my time in formation. In that moment all converged. The people present who shared my journey and the people absent who shared my journey were there in that moment.

Holy Spirit moments continued the next day. It was Sunday and worship included Holy Communion. So I robed. Then, for the first time preparing for worship, I placed a stole around my neck. Words fail me as I remember how that felt. It was quite light, made of yarn and crafted by a woman who had moved from brokenness to become a thriving spirit, yet it was weighty. All the busyness of preparing for worship washed away and the moment focused my awareness on the one I serve and the community I am called to serve. Time stopped.

Holy Spirit moments continue. Each moment is filled with the promise, I will be with you always, even to the end of the ages. I feel like a horse at the starting gate, prancing and eager to hear the bell for the race to begin, recognizing I am not to run in circles, but race towards the goal of union with God. My race is not a solitary race either, I am part of a community, a team, that passes the baton of leadership to the ones gifted for each particular leg of our journey.

On to the next moment filled with joy, filled with love, filled with God,
One of Many

Scheduling Blues

2011-06-08T17:10:00.000-04:00

Today I have been involved in my least favorite part of vision casting, scheduling. The question is this; are visions modified by schedules or schedules modified by visions? How does a schedule tell someone they were included or excluded? Can a schedule be made that is all inclusive? As I ponder these things I realize my meager scheduling conflicts and adjustments are my way of attempting to control God's plan for my life and the lives of those I serve.

I have to admit this day has been one of recognizing that change requires choices, not only for those planning events but those for whom the event is planned. I have to let go of the controls and allow the Holy Spirit, my GPS, guide me through the process. Unplanned events never happen. Planned events can be altered and changed and rescheduled as the hearts and hands and voices are added to the planning stages. I may find that as plans are shared this burden I have felt today is lifted as others begin to share in the excitement of preparing events that provide opportunities for others to come to know and love God more.

I also felt God pulling me away from planning. I sensed again I was moving too far ahead. This has caused me to close out all my calenders, google, microsoft, ical, and rest here in this blogspot to remember that I am not in control. I am not the dispatcher, or the driver, I am one of many travelers journeying with God.

All joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Sojourners Verse and Voice Verse of the Day

2011-06-03T17:35:00.000-04:00

"If you judge people, you have no time to love them" Saint Teresa of Avila

Sabbath Work

2011-06-03T10:39:00.000-04:00

It is my day of Sabbath Rest and I find myself working. I just backspaced out the justifying sentence that was going to come next. What I am considering is changing the title of this blog to Sabbath Work. I find that on my Sabbath day, I work. I do the work I enjoy the most, the work of creating. I work on blogs, I work on sermons, I work on brochures, I work on my book (okay, I think about working on my book), and I work on the laundry. The laundry not so much the work I enjoy most. I wonder though about Sabbath. I feel rested and refreshed after the work.

Some Sabbath days I visit. It is always a humbling experience when doors are opened and lives are shared. A peace comes over me when I have visited. I have learned in those moments I am in the presence of God. If Sabbath keeping is a time to dwell in God's presence then visiting is a Sabbath keeping event.

Another work experience reminded me of Sabbath. It was the week I just had in the southeast. I had a revival to preach, so we traveled and had multiple tasks for ourselves, expensive tasks it turned out. The motorcycle and the wagon got check ups and needed parts to be better running machines. The tile work needed more tile and a new border was selected. Paint was purchased. When we left, my husband was in great physical discomfort from the work and my frugal nature was challenged by the expense. Yet, I felt rested. A work was completed, partially. Floor is done, walls still a work in progress. Revival was spirit filled and lives touched. Sabbath work. It was work in a different space, a different place, and of a different kind. The odd thing about the work on the house. The place is still a place of rest for me. I always (no matter how messy or dirty the boys leave it) feel like I have come home and my soul rests. Even cleaning toilets is peaceful.

So I remain challenged in the concept of Sabbath Rest. Is it work? Is it rest? Would I be fudging to call it Sabbath Keeping and allow it to be what it is each week, a unique unstructured experience that sometimes holds what some would call work, holds what some would call play? Essential to my Sabbath is communion with God, that I rest within God's comforting presence and emerge renewed. When I look at visiting, writing, creating, painting, I see God's hand in all the work, today that includes blogging and watching the butterflies in my yard. Abby, she is resting in my chair.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

The power of joy, the power of love, the Power of God

2011-05-13T15:41:00.000-04:00

It is Friday the 13th of May. My youngest son, had he lived would have been 24 today. Each year we celebrate his birth by watching one of his favorite movies. Mind you, he died at the age of 6, so do not be surprised at his choice, "Space Balls." Not my favorite movie, but his. So we watch and laugh and groan over some of the puns but we remember a child of joy and love and laughter. Today, I am truly grateful for God's love to have been part of his young life as well. It is a normal practice for me to take a Sabbath on the day of his birth but this week is a little different. I just returned from a week in Pittsburgh having attended a National Workshop on Christian Unity.

The team from North Carolina was unified in their efforts to travel. The airline was not. We each found our own way to Pittsburgh and arrived around the same time, missing our first day's workshops. Opening worship was splendid as was the walk from hotel to church. The homily was about the "moral imperative" for the church to unify. These words were a quote from the Pope. A moral imperative. Then on Tuesday morning with our keynote speaker, we again spoke of the sin of "the church," our inability to come together as one as Christ calls us to be one.

The Tuesday night prayer service was filled with smells, bells, people, and music. On Wednesday we reflected on some of the "isms" that keep us separate. Racism continues to bring division rather than unity. I thought, we have returned once again to the critique on power. Human beings appear to crave power. We do not seem to be able to acquire power and use it for joy or love or God. We use it in the name of God but not for God. I say this because when we choose to use our power for God, we have done something quite different than what we are saying, we have surrendered our power to God's power. We become the instruments of God's power, God's love, and God's joy. When that happens powerful moments in history errupt so that the light of God's love shines forth.

I say all this because I experienced it in a real way over 24 years ago. It was my own process of surrender to God's love. Each barrier that was erected to keep God out slowly came down. One fine day, I realized the darkness that surrounded me was gone and the light of God's love brought me joy and peace. When my son was born, I called him my child of joy as his brother is my child of love. This gift of joy came when I could receive God's joy, just as the gift of love that is his older brother came so that I would know God's love.

The hardest surrender for me and I believe for all people is the surrender of our will to God's will. It is a journey of battlegrounds where we engage God in a battle of wills for control of our own lives. Each surrender is truly a victory as we release control to God we learn we have not lost but won. Now, my question that continues to call me to write. If we all surrendered perceived power to God, lived under His Lordship, could we achieve unity? What would continue to divide? It would mean we would ALL have to lay down the bitterness, the unforgiveness, the hurt, the pain, the anger, the self-righteousness, etc., so that no "ism" remained. We would have to cut down all our trees; such as idolatry or bigotry.

Here is what hinders this path. We cannot all do it at the same time. Each of us must come to the place where we are willing to be powerless before God. When we step into the freedom of surrender to God we do so knowing our neighbor may not be ready to surrender. Our efforts of peace, unity, and love may be met with resistance. This may even endanger our lives as we speak words of love and reconciliation. We may be perceived as weak.

I want to share an illustration from another of my son's favorite movies. In "Star Wars," Obi Wan faced his enemy and in the midst of the battle chose to let down his guard and be struck down by his enemy for the greater good that would come from his death. When we, as children of God, and followers of Jesus Christ lay down our swords of wrath, our swords of protection, our swords of..., we can be struck down by those who cannot surrender their own will to God's perfect will. Yet it is a moral imperative that we do so. God's call for unity is the Kingdom call that we might experience the Kingdom of God on earth. Someone has to go first. Someone already did, Jesus.

On this day filled with so many thoughts, I am grateful for the gift of love, the gift of joy given to me through the people God has placed in my life, those for a season, and those for eternity.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Mother's Day

2011-05-06T09:45:00.000-04:00

I remember the last Mother's Day with my mother. It was in Georgia and my sisters were with me. Mom was in her hospital bed, not eating much, and she wanted a cappuccino, so we made her one. She sipped a little but did not finish it. That was four years ago. This celebration day has been bitter sweet for a long time because I am also a mother who lost a child. It has been seventeen years since his death. I remember vividly that first Mother's Day without him. It snuck up on me and I had not thought of how I would celebrate that day.

Then this week, I found myself overjoyed over this celebration day that I usually would prefer to just go away. My oldest child, my son with all those cats is coming for lunch and staying overnight, without his cats. I had thought I would have to call him on that day and remind him it was Mother's Day. Instead, I get to touch him and fuss over him and feed him and his father will spoil him. I am thinking of his favorite meals to prepare. While I am preaching about the walk to Emmaus passage, my husband will drive down to the state park and pick him up.

This Mother's Day there will be in worship families that are experiencing their first Mother's Day with newborns. This Mother's Day there will be in worship families that are experiencing their first Mother's Day without one or more of their children because of disease, tornadoes, floods, earthquakes, war, or violence. This Mother's Day there will be in worship families that are experiencing their first Mother's Day without their mother. This Mother's Day there will be in worship children who have been abandoned by their mothers, beaten by their mothers, emotionally abused by their mothers. This Mother's Day there will be in worship mothers who are broken, mothers who are healed, and women who could not be mothers because of circumstances in their lives and women who have chosen not to be mothers.

In the midst of worship we encounter God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. On Mother's Day, my prayer is always that this encounter with God brings us healing for the wounds and griefs of our lives, knowing that He is in the midst of our pain and our sorrow. I pray that we experience the unconditional love of a parent who knew us before we were even conceived and loved us, a parent who loves us enough to watch and wait for our return, a parent who sacrifices all that we might be redeemed, a reconciling love that helps us forgive our own parents, our own children, our families, our community, our enemies.

I do know that this Mother's Day, as I look into the eyes of my son, I will experience joy and I will experience grief, enveloped in the loving embrace of God.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Too much to process

2011-05-02T16:05:00.000-04:00

Have you ever gone to bed and slept through life changing events? I have many times and some of these life changing events did not seem to touch my life. This past week has been filled with news that has changed the lives of many.

We have had tornadoes that have devastated more lives than we know. I just recently heard of the numbers unaccounted for in Alabama. When we discover if these people who are currently numbers are alive or dead, we may find this series of storms our most deadliest.

Then we had the royal wedding. It was a little disconcerting that the news was so singularly focused that morning. It was as if the world had stopped turning and all of us were guests at a wedding.

Now I have woken up to discover the death of a terrorist.

As I reflect on these events I am struck by a common thread. You may not believe these three events have anything in common, but they do. What they all hold in common is power. The power of nature to indiscriminately kill or leave untouched. The power of the monarchy, now some may question if real power dwells in the monarchy. Consider this, the wedding held the attention of the world. What will these young monarchs do with their perceived and real power? Are they powerful enough to change the course of their country? The power of terror now in the forefront of our minds and hearts. Terrorism has held all of us in its powerful storm, whether we are making plans to protect against it, executing plans to fight it, or dealing with the debris field in its wake.

I have surrendered my life to only one power, God. The God I surrendered to is, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The nature of God is love as embodied in Jesus Christ who came that the world might be saved. He chose to die on the cross for the world. He asked those who were followers to love their enemies. Luke tells us on the cross he asked God to forgive those who crucified him. His life, death, and resurrection offer us hope. His life and death remind us though, that the way of love is not easy and has huge risks. It is not the popular way.

So here is what I am struggling with in the midst of the news of the previous days and weeks, what now? When I think about humanity and how God has loved us over millenniums and still we stray, still we struggle and still we turn away, I wonder who God will send next to help us stay on course, help us rest from struggle, and help us turn back towards God? Then I remember who Jesus sent to witness to his way, he sent his disciples who sent their disciples who sent their disciples until we get to me and possibly you. All who call themselves followers of Jesus Christ are whom God sent to be instruments of peace, of love, of mercy, and of grace, that is powerful.

Now comes the powerful question. How do we bear witness to the world so that the world might be saved? This question has haunted me all my life. Here is the piece of the answer I have discovered. It begins with me and it begins in community. Every choice I make must be a choice that honors God. Every choice I make impacts the community I serve. As we grow and learn together how to be the Body of Christ, our choices, our actions will be decisive in witnessing to the world around us of the power of love, the power of God. I will have to shed many wants, many desires, and many emotions to live as Christ calls me to live. Learning to live a Christ centered life will take me a lifetime and I am so glad that this learning is not an individual task but a communal task. I am grateful for the community I serve who will learn with me.

The reign of a tornado is short lived. The reign of a monarchy also ends. The reign of terror will end as well. The Reign of God is eternal. To which power will you choose to surrender?

Allow Joy, allow Love, allow God,
One of Many

Watching all night

2011-04-26T12:30:00.000-04:00

This Easter my son was watching the bread rise all night. He has taken on the family tradition of Swedish coffee bread for the holidays. It was his first solo venture. We waited too long to start. We had just finished watching a passion movie and then he began to create the bread. He browned the cardomon seed pods, he crushed the seeds, he warmed the milk, melted the butter, added the yeast, added the flour, kneaded the dough, and set it to rise. His watching had begun, waiting and watching for the dough to rise, breaking it down, cutting it into sections, braiding, and rising again. Once risen for the second time, he could bake. Yet, it makes so many loaves, he had to watch and wait all night for two trips to the oven to bake. When I arose to prepare for sunrise service, the second group of loaves was just coming out of the oven. He had waited and watched all night. So he dressed and came to the Sunrise service, ate breakfast with the gathered community, returned home and fell into his bed to sleep until woken for Easter dinner.

His waiting and watching all night brought to my remembrance the dark of the night and the women waiting and watching for the sun to rise that they might go to the tomb to care for the body of the one they loved and lost. They had a tradition of caring for the bodies of the dead. To their surprise in the light of the day, He was not there. He had risen. They journety to their gathered community, huddling in an upper room to share the good news. They rejoiced together and shared a meal.

Now we who have not seen yet believe have our traditions of waiting and watching all night. We gather somewhere to worship as the sun rises on Easter morning and share again the story and then break bread together in remembrance.

My son's desire to learn a tradition of his family grows out of his love for family. There are traditions and stories to be honored and not lost to the whim of time. These family traditions are tied to a larger tradition, the tradition of the family of God. This bread that is risen, beaten down, risen again and braided tells the story of our faith. The yeast that brings the bread to life as it rises is the Holy Spirit within us. The world beats us down, but we rise again. The world ties us in knots, but we rise again. We, like the bread, are God's gift to the world. When we are filled with the Holy Spirit we are a sweet, sweet gift. The world experiences the love of God through our broken, beatened, and twisted lives that continue to radiate out that love of God and when tasted, the world finds God's love sweet.

One of my favorite prayers is Bakerwoman God written by Alla REsee Bozarth. Pray with me,

Bakerwoman God, I am your living bread, strong brown Bakerwoman God. I am your low, soft, and being-shaped loaf. I am your rising bread, well-kneaded by some divine and knotty pair of knuckles, by your warm earth hands. I am bread well-kneaded. Put me in fire, Bakerwoman God, put me in your own bright fire. I am warm, warm as you from fire. I am white and gold, soft and hard, brown and round. I am so warm from fire. Break me, Bakerwoman God. I am broken under your caring Word. Drop me in your special juice in pieces. Drop me in your blood. Drunken me in the great red flood. Self-giving chalice swallow me. My skin shines in the divine wine. My face is cup-covered and I drown. I fall up in a red pool in a gold world where your warm sunskin hand is there to catch and hold me. Bakerwoman God, remake. Amen.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,

One of Many

Holy Friday, Holy Sabbath

2011-04-22T09:10:00.000-04:00

In the midst of the preparations for Easter there is this moment of Sabbath rest. A moment to consider that at this time on that day so long ago, Jesus had not rested. Maybe he was able in the midst of the trials and the beatings to close his eyes, exhausted and in pain, until the next taunt, the next strike, the next trial.

All around me people are experiencing pain and trials. Some are grieving fresh loss. Some are experiencing the devastation of a tornado. Some have health issues. Some have loved ones with health issues. Others facing violence. Still others facing financial difficulties. Are they able to find moments of rest? Are they able to experience the peace that Christ experienced in the midst of his pain and suffering? Do they know they are not alone?

It is Friday, too soon to turn to Sunday's joy. How often do we do that? Attempt to jump over the death of Christ to celebrate His resurrection? Then throughout the year live out his death through our lives? Should it not be the other way? Should we not be living as a people of the resurrection and then spend this Holy Week, from Palm Sunday to Easter, remembering and living out the story of his journey through death to resurrection?

This week as I was preparing for worship, I was reading the story in my living room. Abby was chasing flies in the window, barking at the cats and dogs across the street, and attempting to get my attention so that she could go outside and bark some more. Something different happened as I read the scriptures there in my living room with the world moving forward as if nothing unusual was occuring. As I read, I began to grieve, grieve that Jesus had to endure such pain, that Jesus had to die. Then I began to weep, weep for humanity that is so lost that we betrayed our Savior. I marveled at God's love for us and became humbled by that love.

Then the questions started. What do I do with this new depth of love and understanding? How do I help others come to this realization of God's great love? Where do I start? What do I continue? What do I stop? Each year it seems a word just keeps returning to me. One word I was given a few years ago, "surrender." I am still learning how to live into surrendering to God. Another word has been a long time part of my journey, and just recently, like these past ten months has been building in volume upon my heart, "community." I can start in community, build in community, share in community, stop practices that do not build community, and most importantly love in community. Jesus' ministry has many dimensions, one that strikes me is the relational aspect of his ministry and how he worked to break barriers that prevent communities from living fully into a relationship with God. Jesus did not just love the outcast, the sinner, Jesus loved those who saw themselves as the incrowd and sinless as well. He loved so well, He was willing to call them out when they behaved badly. He offered healing and hope to all who came into his sphere of influence. The choice was theirs to receive or reject.

On this Holy Friday, I am overwhelmed with God's love for the world.
"What wondrous love is this? O my soul, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this, O my soul?
What wondrous love is this?
Which caused the Lord of bliss
To bear the dreadful curse,
For my soul."

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Monday Muzings on Tuesday afternoon

2011-04-12T12:42:00.001-04:00

It was a quiet Monday and I was pensive about the upcoming Holy Week. How do I help create a worship experience that offers entry points into this story? How do I help people see through the eyes of the disciples preparing for Jesus' entry into Jerusalem? Do I capture an image of a face in the crown waving palm branches of excitement? Do I focus on those on the edge of the crowd whispering in fearful plotting? Do we look into the eyes of Jesus to see his love and compassion as he gazes at his disciples, the crowd, the plotting whisperers? Do I tell the passion story? And those are my questions for Sunday.

What about Thursday? As we gather for Holy Communion, what mood do we create with the worship elements of candles, table, bread, cup, thorns? How do we help those coming feel the love and pain of Jesus? Is the focus on serving and bowls of water and towels? What is the community doing that day? What is this community doing that night to enter into that day? How do we be community after that night? Are we changed?

Then come Sunday at the graveyard...empty...dark...cold...no comfortable place to sit...no music...this mood of discomfort to move into a mood of joy and exaltation because He Lives, an empty graveyard is a good thing! Which graveyard story do we remember?

The day is not over...there is the 11:00 service with the story of God's love from creation to resurrection. Does it build so that it carries all of us on the journey? Is the time right? Are the prayers right? What words will I say?

Where is God leading us as community through this week? How am I called to lead us? What cries out to be heard? Who cries out to be heard?

Guess what...you have to come to worship to find the answers to these questions and more. Or just maybe you will find the answer to the question on your heart.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

A Treed Story

2011-04-12T12:02:00.001-04:00

Today a cat was rescued. Let me tell you the story. It seems this cat is familiar with people, knows the ways of the wild, and lives somewhere between the two. This cat, black and long haired with golden eyes was treed sometime yesterday. Was it a neighborhood dog? Another cat? Surely not Abby, as she is never outside unleashed. Now that may be a story for another day, Abby unleashed. Back to the cat. How long it was treed is still unknown. I came home late last night from a senior recital, (this young woman can sing) and heard what sounded like a cat in distress. Searching the yard, I stopped and listened until I found said cat high in a pine tree. As we approached, my husband now joining me, it appeared to head higher. So we went to bed hoping it would find its own way down. We had no ladder to attempt a rescue should it remain treed.

Today it still remained treed. My husband tried coaxing and it did not appear interested. He went to work. I left to do some business and upon my return attempted to untree the cat. Here are some not very effective ways to untree a cat. 1. Call it out onto the limb where it cannot see the ground or you. 2. Drive your car underneath the tree to make the jump seem easier. 3. Shake a jar of cat food while making coaxing sounds to encourage cat to jump onto the car. Now, a most effective way. Call a member of your community that has a love for cats and a talented family with trucks and ladders. Father and son arrived with gloves, a cat carrier, a huge ladder, and a rope. They extended the ladder, climbed up, both father and son climbed up with the son in the lead. The frightened cat came to the son who gloved his hand and lifted the cat off the tree and dropped it into the box his father was holding.

As I stood at the base of the ladder holding it steady, watching this rescue, I thought about the risks they were taking for the sake of a cat. It wasn't a defenseless creature. It could have caused them great harm as they attempted to remove it from its perch. They still had to navigate down the ladder holding a box with a scared cat. They made it safely to the ground and before we could secure the carrier, it freed itself and ran off into my carport. It then traveled across the street looking for food. For all our efforts, it remains in danger in the world.

I cannot help but think about the parallels. When we hear the cry of those who have been treed by life, by circumstances beyond their control, by bullies, we are called to find the resources to offer them the way to freedom. God asks us to hear the cries of the needy and answer their needs with love and compassion. Yet, I do not have all the answers to the needs of those around me. What I do have is my community. Because I belong to a community of believers who are following the same Jesus as I am, I can call on them and together we can answer the cries of the needy.

When we hear the cry and offer to assist, we get no guarantee the one we rescue will want to accept the love and compassion of Jesus Christ shown through we who serve. There are risks in serving the needy. They are not defenseless. They may do us a great deal of harm as we are tending to their needs. Stuck in a tree in the dark can be a scary ordeal. When the light of day shines, a way can be seen to be free. Stuck in the dark of our sin feels like being treed. When the light of God's love shines upon us and we see the way to freedom from sin through Him, we can choose to stay in the tree or reach out to the hand that is offered. They may reject our help, climbing higher into riskier behaviors, sinking deeper into their sinful habits, or so confused they lash out at the helping hands. The One who calls us by name holds onto the ladders we are climbing to bring aid. The One who knew us before we were formed in our mother's womb is the One who reaches out through us to those in need. We cannot save them. We cannot rescue them, that is the work of Jesus Christ in their hearts and lives. We can only show them the way. As faithful followers, we are asked to continue showing the way even when those who have been safely removed from their perch run away from the love we have to offer.

I am truly grateful for the ones who showed me the way. I am also grateful to a father and son who heard the cry of the needy through my cry and a cat is now free to find the One who created it and loves it and wants it safe, who wants it to come home.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Next steps

2011-04-08T10:01:00.001-04:00

This week has been a whirlwind of spiritual events, worship with middle school youth at camp, interview with my discernment team, phone calls, visits, choir practice, Bible study, preparations for yard sales, and now a day of Sabbath rest. A day to be filled with more spiritual events, bulletins and sermon preparation as well as arranging "stuff" for the yard sale.

What I am pondering is this, when we come to a moment when we have reached a goal, how long do we rest in the wonder of accomplishment before we take the next step? Here is my thinking, we rest long enough to breathe in the wonder of the moment. We rest long enough for the Lord to reveal which direction to take that next step. Then we step.

I am so excited about this moment in my life, within me is this welling of spiritual energy for those next steps. When I think of all the people who have journeyed this far with me, I am overwhelmed with the love of God shared with me through them. I am grateful to all those who have been here for me. Each of you provided me with love, support, guidance, wisdom, laughter, tears, and an unfailing belief that you knew where God wanted me to be and would not let me stray. Thank you, all of you.

Within the community God has placed me to serve I take the next steps. This community is filled with gifted and loving people who will be taking these next steps with me. We are all broken people, yet we have the healing power of the Holy Spirit working through us as we reach out into our community to share the grace of our Savior Jesus Christ.

This weekend as the young people were looking at how to dive into faith, how to step was part of my message. We have to step off to begin. We have to step out to follow. We have to allow Christ to step in to our hearts. We have to step away from all that keeps us captive. I am at a stepping off place. This is not the first time I have stepped off and it will not be the last time either. As I step off others will be following. It is my task to prepare us for the journey, to provide a navigator's guide to the phases of that journey, and to ensure that our strays are returned to the pathway. I am still excited about these next steps.

I am primarily excited because I will not be stepping off, stepping out alone. We, the community I serve, the family I love and I, will be doing this together with God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. As we invite God to step in to transform our lives, the community will be transformed as we step away from destructive relationships to the only relationship that saves, a relationship with God. I ask God on this day of Sabbath rest to fill me with His love and strengthen me for the next steps in the journey as I step off into the path He has laid before me.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Sunrise at Don Lee Center Sunday Morning April 3, 2011

2011-04-04T12:37:00.001-04:00

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,

One of Many

Unity in Diversity

2011-03-30T12:35:00.000-04:00

Last night I returned from a meeting where the topic was on unity in the Body of Christ. Also on the table at that discussion were our interfaith concerns. What did I take away from this meeting? I was struck by the depth of commitment to the work of bringing about peace and justice through the willingness to be open and listen to the stories of people of all faith traditions. We only scratched the surface of the topics and the stories. Our challenge is to see and hear and honor this work.

I was also struck by the underlying emotions that hinder great work. The one that seems to scream out at me was fear. I can hear Jesus' voice as he speaks, "Do not be afraid." I can hear the angel speak to Mary, "Do not be afraid." I can hear the Lord say to Abram, "Do not be afraid." I could spend my whole blog quoting God or God's messengers as they would say to the faithful, "do not be afraid."

Fear paralyzes us. Fear compels us to action. Fear can be the driving force of our lives. When we seek unity in the Body of Christ with fear as our underlying emotion, we tend to seek to unify through intimidation. Our vision of unity is rather homogenous, we all look alike and believe alike. This tends to be conterproductive in creating unity.

God asks us to love not to fear. God calls us to love God, love our neighbor, and love our enemy. When we seek unity in the Body of Christ with love as our underlying emotion, we tend to seek to unify through understanding. Our vision of unity is a tapestry of color. We share a common vision with differing expressions that add depth and brillance to the mosaic.

How we overcome fear around the issues of interfaith relationships begins with a desire to overcome the fear to engage in relationship building with people of other faith traditions so that we can share our stories with each other.

In these weeks of Lent when I think about the journey of Jesus to Jerusalem, to the cross, to death, to life and remember that he experienced all our emotions including fear, I am grateful for the triumph of love.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

An Easter Community

2011-03-24T13:14:00.001-04:00

How important is our name or identity? I just came from a Church watch meeting where we were informed about gang activity and about identifying our belongings, an interesting combination of topics.

Here is what I took away from the conversation around gangs. Gangs have a vision that they offer to their members and their recruits. Gangs have a mission statement that is written down and memorized by their members and their recruits. Gangs have creeds. Gangs have prayers. Gangs evangelize their communities, particularly seeking out the young and the vulnerable. Gangs provide a sense of belonging. Gangs offer security. Gangs have symbols and all the members know the meanings of those symbols. Gangs have rites of initiation. Gangs have rituals. Gangs have codes of behavior. Gangs have identifying behaviors and clothing. Gang members are proud of belonging and loyal to their community. Gangs keep connections and community active and vital. Gangs are encouraged to integrate into main stream society to create change. Gangs have a powerful, founding figure.

It sounded to me a lot like the community of believers known as Christians. Think about it. We have a founder, Jesus Christ. He is so powerful he overcame death itself. We have creeds, prayers, a mission, a vision, symbols, rites of initiation, rituals, codes of behavior, identifying behaviors, as well as clothing and jewelry. We evangelize. We serve the most vulnerable. We offer children a place to belong and be safe. We are encouraged to create change within our own specific sphere of influence.

There is one tell tale difference between gangs and Christians. To be identified as a gang, the group must engage in criminal activity. Gangs give prestige to members who are willing to participate in violent crimes that maim or kill their victims. Christians are part of an Easter community that gives prestige to members who are willing to stand against the violence of the world and offer the love of God to all people, including members of gangs. Our founder, Jesus Christ overcame sin and death and won a victory for the world. As an Easter community our task is to infiltrate places of darkness and bring the light of Jesus Christ. We are a people of hope. We are a people of love. We are a people of faith. We are a people of obedience. We are a people of great passion. Does our passion translate out into the community? Could a police officer identify me as a Christian as quickly as he could identify a gang member?

That question leads me to the second half of the presentation today, identifying property. It is prudent to be safe and have markers on our “stuff” so it can be identified when stolen. It feels a little like we are tagging our territory as gangs tag their territory. Our “stuff” has become a commodity that can be stolen and sold for other stuff.

Easter communities are to share resources so that no one is in need and all needs are met. Well, is that what it says in Acts 2?

Acts 2:42-47 states, “ 42 They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. 43 Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. 44 All the believers were together and had everything in common. 45 They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. 46 Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, 47 praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.”

It states they gave to anyone who had need. Does the “anyone” mean ANYONE or anyone in their Easter community? What would happen, if as Easter communities we lived this out in our communities where we are planted and the “anyone” meant literally “anyone?” Scripture says the Lord added to their number. We might just become so attractive that we would be the community of choice and gangs would find themselves powerless against the light and love of the Easter community that overcame the darkness.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,

One of Many

Lenten Longings

2011-03-23T14:59:00.000-04:00

It is Wednesday and I have been working on the Holy Week worship, Easter, and beyond. I long for worship to be so filled with the presence of God that lives are transformed. I long for everyone to know the joy of a loving relationship with God the Father through Jesus His Son. I have to stop and realize that one of the essentials is that I grow in my relationship to God the Father through Jesus His Son so that empowered by the Holy Spirit worship is what God intends it to be. So, as I work and long, I pray. I pray that God's longings become my longings. The hour of worship is a sacred hour filled with prayer, scripture, music, silence, words, actions; and I often forget that the most precious gift of worship is community. The gathered community worshipping with our God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. What joy to worship together this Holy season.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,

One of Many

How do we rest when devastation is all around us?

2011-03-16T15:58:00.000-04:00

I am sitting on my couch in my den, quite comfortable. Abby is asleep in the chair beside me, head resting on the overstuffed arm. I just finished looking at a news site that a friend emailed me. The devastation in Japan still is beyond true comprehension. I wonder how the people are coping, where they are finding rest for their souls as they grieve so much loss and struggle with real fear. How long will it take to be defined by something other than this current reality? This earthquake has moved a nation, literally, and shaken the world. The waters of the Tsunami have littered the land with debris that once was someone's car, someone's boat, someone's house. Yet we are still holding our breath as power plants are on the edge of unknown disaster and the ground still quakes. No matter how riveting this is, I know I can close my computer, turn off my TV, or put the paper aside and it all but disappears and I can find rest and peace. In Japan, that is not possible, right now. What do we do, who live miles away, to help those who are in crisis find peace, get a moment of rest?

Even as I write this I cannot help but think how the world is filled with communities in crisis. The African continent is in upheaval. Haiti is only one year out from their own earthquake and recovery is at the initial stages. War and terror are real in all parts of the world. Hunger, poverty, slavery, genocide, and religious persecution are just some of the issues we face as a global community. As my heart is heavy with grief, I can only imagine God's heart breaking with all the pain and suffering of his children. Then I think about Lent as we focus on the path of Jesus to the cross, all that he endured so that we might find rest in God. He died that the world might be saved. He lived so that we might know how to live as followers of Jesus Christ, as children of God. He healed the sick, fed the hungry, and offered us all a relationship of love. He said he would be with us always, even to the end of the ages. For me, that means in times of deepest distress, God is with me. In times of greatest joy, God is with me. Others who may feel alone and isolated or trapped in the chaos of their lives can only know this great love if you or I share it with them.

So how do we share with those in Japan, Haiti, or Africa, or ...? I was recently talking with some friends about how great the need is everywhere. We can become overwhelmed if we believe we have to be everywhere and do everything.

The great gift of being the Body of Christ is this that everybody can be somewhere doing something and when we are all deployed than somebody is everywhere and everything gets done. God has given some of us the gift of healing as doctors, nurses, emergency responders. God has given some of us the gift of science to find ways to solve the problems of a particular region. God has given some of us the gift of farming and we can share that gift throughout the world. God has given some of us the gift of engineering that can be used to rebuild and rethink how we build. God has given some of us the gift of teaching, of praying, of cooking, of cleaning, of construction, of driving, of sewing. So many gifts that are needed in so many places. God has given each of us a gift that can be used so that devastation does not define the world, love defines the world. We just have to say, "Here I am, Lord, send me!" when God calls on us with the one thing he would have us do in the one place to which we are called. In this Lenten time, listen for where God is calling you and to what God is calling you.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Voices of Lent

2011-03-14T09:44:00.000-04:00

This Sunday worship went long. Funny how those words sound, worship went long. Worship really never ends; it just takes on different expressions. Sunday morning we added a new expression in our worship service, the voices of Lent. Each week a different Biblical figure will enter into worship and share his or her story and what meeting and being with Christ did in their lives. They will share one thing that they let go of because of meeting Jesus.

I think though what touched me most was the coming together of the community so that these voices can be heard. I have the director who is gathering her talent and cajoling members to say yes. She is coaching them and encouraging them, so that this Sunday Peter was shouting and pacing and just perfect. Then there are the actors. Many will be overcoming fears or disabilities to stand or pace or sit and share in costume. The costumes are a group effort as members gather resources together.

Center in the sanctuary is a wreath of thorns. This is also a combined effort. One of the members put this magnificent piece together. It has an iron wheel, chains hanging down, and clay pots holding the six candles. The Christ candle in the center stands tall and large. This prominent piece focuses us on the death of Jesus, while the daffodils in the narthex make a subtle statement of hope, their aroma welcoming in visitors and members alike. The brilliant yellow assuring us that Easter is coming. They were a gift of a member who loves her Lord.

The choir offers music to allow the figures to move to the wreath and back again. Each week a candle will be extinguished. Thursday night in Holy Week, the lone light of the Christ candle will be blown out and the sanctuary dropped into darkness.

Easter morning, the figures will all return and the Christ candle will be relit as we proclaim, "He is risen, he is risen, indeed!"

The voices of Lent, come and hear them and maybe, just maybe, you won't find that worship has gone long but that worship has expanded your understanding of the love God is offering you through his son, Jesus Christ.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Ash Wednesday and Holy Spirit Winds

2011-03-09T12:20:00.001-05:00

It is Ash Wednesday. I am sitting in my study preparing the worship service and bulletin for use this evening and listening to this whistling wind. The wind has a haunting tone as it drifts in and out of my awareness. Each passing howl reminds me that winter is still here. The gray sky is the color of the ashes that we will use later today. Then I shift forward and look out the window of my study. A sun soaked yellow Forsythia reminds me that winter is not a forever season. Spring is on the way. The wind calls me again to remember the One who created the heavens and the earth and the wind that blew over the waters, calls me to remember the One who created order out of chaos, who brought the rhythm of the seasons to life. The wind reminds me of the Holy Spirit that swept into the upper room and fell upon the disciples praying there. The wind reminds me on this day we remember our mortality and that without Jesus Christ and his gift to us, there would be no hope in this life for a life eternal. In my wind whipped remembering, I pray for a cleansing of my heart.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

The Day After

2011-03-05T17:56:00.000-05:00

Today is the day after my anniversary. I was thinking about how underrated the day after really is. Each special occasion in our lives has a day after, even death. That final day after is eternal. So each "day after" is a foretaste of eternity. Today's question, if I thought about the "day after" as a foretaste of eternity, how would I approach that day differently?

Today I have been in a state of contentment, a sabbath rest for my marriage. Okay, it is not a turbulent marriage, but on this "day after" I remember the day after the wedding when I realized I couldn't go home again. Here was my thinking, I go away to college, I come home. I go away on vacation, I come home. I get married, make a new home. On this day after, I am grateful for the years of home making that my husband and I have done, even the rough and tumble years.

When we say yes to the gift of reconciliation offered us through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, our lives undergo a "day after" as well. We are changed and changing continually creating a new way of being as we grow in the image of God and the likeness of Jesus Christ. It is a new life. We are living in the "day after."

We are living into eternity with each day after that "Yes." So each day is truly a foretaste of eternity. I spent mine sharing moments with friends, with my husband, with Abby. It is good to be in the presence of our Lord on this day after.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Science, Technology, and the Arts

2011-03-03T10:21:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I was listening to the news about future jobs. The reporter indicated that technology, science, and medicine were the fields that would have job growth and good salaries. The other news was that a college degree will be required for almost all jobs. Then I heard what disturbed me, a coanchor suggested that those seeking college should not look to the arts as a major interest. What happens when we remove the arts from our lives? How do we make meaning?

Prophetic voices always challenge the given culture about the meaning they are making by the actions they are taking. Prophets see the meaning behind stuff we create. The question I am pondering this morning is this? If we do not study art, history, religion, philosophy, language, music, drama, culture will we have any prophets in our future?

Who will tell our stories? Will we know what story our lives are telling? Story tellers once were the primary voice of a culture. The community gathered around a fire and the story teller shared the mysteries of the world and opened up the imaginations of those listening. From the possibilities shared in story new ideas created new inventions and cultural shifts. As cultures shifted story tellers often took on prophetic voices to offer commentary to our shift. It seems that news reporters are becoming our story tellers, but does their reporting help us make meaning in our lives or of our lives?

I worry about a potential future when our symbols become ornaments rather than sacred objects holding the values of our culture or our lives. A symbol will always have embedded within its structure, meaning. It is when we cease to look for symbolic meaning that it becomes disposable to the culture.

I often find this in worship. The community that gathers has various levels of understanding of the symbolic elements with which we worship. The storytellers in the community have smaller audiences to hear the why or the who and soon the richness of a life of faith as the Body of Christ is lost.

Truth be told we have not lost our desire for a good story. We need our story tellers and our prophets not to forgo their calling, but to step into it so that we can hear the voice that challenges us and offers our imaginations new possibilities.

The arts may not be the growing edge in the job market, but we will be lost as a people without our artists who paint our story or sculpt our story, our musicians who compose and perform our story, our writers who share our story, our philosophers who ask the why, our historians who record our story, actors who perform our story, and our priests and prophets who remind us that we are part of a greater story.

Change and cultural shifts are happening at a rapid pace. So rapid, it is difficult to discern the trajectory or the destination. Our new priests and prophets are straddling both worlds of science and art to reveal the truths of our journey. My prayer is that the call on the lives of our storytellers is not obscured by the call of our culture to leave the arts behind.

When I enter a sanctuary I know I am communing with the saints, living and dead. All are present through the story, the sign acts of worship, and in the community gathered. We are part of a living story. Part of what I do is bring out the meaning behind those sign acts, bring out the meaning of the altar, bring out the meaning of the lit candles. I share the stories. Together as we design worship and engage in worship we tell our story as it intersects with God's story.

We need our storytellers.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Driving into the Moon

2011-02-19T23:10:00.000-05:00

Tonight as I was driving home, I climbed a hill and was bewitched by the moon. It was this brilliant yellow orb shining through the trees. It captured my attention. I wondered if I reached out if I could actually touch it. Just one more corner and I believed I would drive right into it. As I took the corner, it disappeared. I began to wonder if I had really seen such a beautiful moon. I kept turning and hoping it would appear right before me. I wanted just another glimpse of the elusive moon. Then right as I came to the driveway, I saw it again. Big, bright, and inviting. Beckoning me to resume the chase. I turned into the driveway and left the moon to tempt others to try to capture its promised warmth.

I was struck by the parallel between the moon and the prize we are told we will win if we just...All so elusive and yet we chase down the trail believing it will be the next corner or the next game or the next person that will solve all our problems. Like the moon, just when we believe we have it in our grasp, we find it was an illusion.

When I turned into the driveway, I knew what was waiting for me. Abby in her room, eager to be set free. Quiet moments, well, after Abby expressed her joy at my return and her excitement at being able to go outside and deal with private dog stuff. The quiet moments of reflection on the coming morning, the gospel message of Matthew, love our enemies and an enormous moon.

As I thought about it, my being able to love my enemy is almost as impossible as driving into the moon. I am not capable of driving into the moon. It takes a rocket ship to travel the distance between the earth and the moon. I am not capable of loving my enemy on my own. It takes the Holy Spirit within me to travel the distance of hate to love.

There is a lot of work involved in getting to the moon. Training and discipline are required. It takes a team to make it to the moon. A team that travels together and has a support component on earth. Then there are those scientists who build the rockets and the engineers who offer theories on space travel. So many I have to trust to really get to the moon. The moon might appear to be just over the hill and one more corner away. I would be fooling myself to believe I could get there in my car.

There is alot of work involved in living a life in grace. It takes discipline and study. It takes a community sharing the journey together, holding each other accountable in our quest for perfection in love. It also takes trust, trust in the God who loves me and loves the world. I might believe I can reach perfection on my own, but I would be fooling myself. It is not a prize or an award that is earned. It is a process of letting go, letting go of the desire for a prize, for the moon, and letting God's will be accomplished in me and through me. I do not need the moon. I need God's love to abide in my heart and then when I live and love out of that love, my enemy is no longer someone I fear or hate. Loving my enemy comes as natural as loving Abby. It will no longer feel like I am driving into the moon, but turning into my driveway.

I look one more time and see the moon for what it is, part of God's created universe. There in the night sky is one more reminder of the majesty and power of God.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Hitting Send

2011-02-12T10:56:00.000-05:00

Today I hit the send button on an email. It is an important email as it sent papers I wrote for the the Board of Ordained Ministry. I thought about all the times we just casually hit the send button. We don't think about the impact that one action will have on our lives or the lives of those who receive our transmission. Today, my finger poised over the button, I kept wanting to wait. So many years moving towards this moment. I thought of all the people who have been part of this journey. I prayed and felt God's gentle spirit saying, "with you always." I remembered who I was and who I am and who I will become is in the master potter's hands. His hands are so very capable to mold this servant into who she is created to be. My response, hit send.

One of Many

Good Quote

2011-02-02T09:03:00.000-05:00

“Keep giving Jesus to your people, not by words, but by your example, by your being in love with Jesus, by radiating holiness and spreading his fragrance of love everywhere you go. Just keep the joy of Jesus as your strength. Be happy and at peace."
- Mother Teresa

Good words this morning in my devotional email from Sojourners. I just love the image Mother Teresa offers with "spreading his fragrance of love everywhere you go." The world would be transformed and smell so sweet. Okay, maybe not sweet. My second thought was coffee beans. Their fragrance lifts my spirit. My third thought line dried bed sheets. When I think of home and love, I remember climbing into my bed and the smell of the sheets was comforting. I would bundle up in these crisp sheets. My sleep was untrouble because I was wrapped in love.

My goal this day is to radiate Jesus and I will wonder what fragrance I will leave with those I meet.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Sushi

2011-01-28T23:06:00.000-05:00

I have a passion for sushi. I love the taste. I love the texture. I love the artistic design when it is served. I love the fact that I can eat a lot of sushi and maintain a healthy lifestyle. What is most fun is that I get to use chopsticks and sometimes my fingers. Tonight, my husband and I went to dinner and I got to eat sushi and sashimi. I always save my favorite pieces for last. I try not to add too much wasabi to the soy sauce as then I lose the flavor of the fish. I can still bring to remembrance the fatty salmon as it encountered my taste buds. Yes I have a passion for sushi.

When I think about all the types of sushi there are, I am reminded that the world is made up of wonderful and unique creations. If we were to see the world as a sushi platter, we would find that the beauty of the world is its diversity of color and texture. In the midst of diversity there is also unity as there is with sushi. You see, in order for the item on the platter to be considered sushi, there must be rice. So what brings unity to the platter is the rice. What brings unity to the created universe is the creator.

1In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

2He was in the beginning with God.

3All things came into being through Him,

and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being.

4In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men.

5The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. (John 1:1-5 NASB)

If rice is in all things sushi and God is in all things created we ought to be able to see and recognize God as we see and recognize the rice in sushi. Now I will admit that some sushi creations are an acquired taste. I have to sample them more than once to enjoy their own unique flavor. I even have some I prefer more than others. So I begin to arrange my plate based on my preferences, yet it is all sushi. I know at times I even do that with the wonder of God's creations. I have preferences and I arrange my life based on my preferences.

Okay, I will be more direct here, I arrange my life based on my prejudices. When I do that, I diminish the light in my life. I cannot comprehend the wonder of God's unique creations if I do not take time to get acquainted with those who are different from me or who are not my preference. I limit my own spiritual growth when I do not embrace that which I do not understand. My platter would be rather dull and boring without variety.

I am glad that I enjoy new experiences. Over the years I have encountered people of various cultures, races, and ethnicities. I have been blessed by those relationships. If God were to look at my sushi platter God would find it colorful with various textures and rich in flavor.

I imagine God loves sushi almost as much as I. If you haven't tried it, take the risk and go with a friend who can introduce you to this delicacy. If you haven't tried a life with God, take the risk. I will bet you have a firend who can introduce you. When you experience God's grace, you will know the wonder of God's love and find God better than any delicacy the world can offer.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,

One of Many

Days and Dates

2011-01-15T09:34:00.000-05:00

I think sometimes we place too much importance on days and dates. Today is Saturday, January 15th. Seventeen years ago on a Saturday, January 15th our youngest son died. Years later, the date still holds sadness and pain. Some years we dwell on it. Some years it passes barely noticed. But it is a date that changed our lives. It became important. When truth be told, it is not the date that is important. It is not his death that is important. It was his life. We were changed when he became part of our life. When we focus on his death and this day, it is all about loss. When we focus on the wonder of his life, it is all about love and joy.

As Christians we celebrate the life, death, and resurrection of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We attach dates to those events to provide days for those celebrations. His life, death, and resurrection changed the world. Yet, the day, the date when my life was changed by accepting the gift of grace offered to me by God is one I do not remember. I can recall the year, I can recall the month, I think. But the day and date, so significant in my life has been forgotten. There is a Good News Bible paperback edition that holds that date for me. I cannot even remember where it is. I believe in a box, in my attic.

Days and Dates carry with them all that was before and all that will come. When we attach too much importance to the date, there is the risk that we allow the date to define our lives. Dates and days are markers only. They mark endings. They mark beginnings. Every ending is a beginning. We move forward in time from every day and date. How we live into the future tells more of who we are and whose we are. The people who journey with us teach us about love, about joy, about hope and help us work through our pain, our sorrow, our anger, our fears.

What is really important is living each day, each date as the gift it is. If we choose to live each day as if it is the most important day of our lives, how would that change how we work? How would that change how we rest? How would that change how we treat our neighbor? How would that change how we rise to greet that day?

Would we allow joy, allow love, allow God into that day?

One of Many

Heating Systems

2011-01-11T10:00:00.000-05:00

Sunday, the church was cold. Classes moved to places to keep warm. Coats did not adorn the hallway like colored icles on a Christmas tree. Instead they were pulled tightly around the students studying God's word for the day. The heating system appeared to be reluctant to work in the cold.

I just reread that first sentence, the church was cold. Now, technically that is not actually true. The education wing was in a deep freeze, the sanctuary was warm and inviting. Oh, dear, I thought I was getting myself out of hot water, or more precisely cold water, but that is not where these images are taking me. Ready?

A cold church or a frozen education wing says something about our spiritual heating systems. Our spiritual formation depends on our active study of God's word. Our spiritual wellness depends on our daily devotional time with God. When we go to the Lord in prayer we allow the warmth of God's love to fuel our spiritual fire. If we are not seeking out that fuel, our tank will become empty and our spiritual heating system will not simply appear to be reluctant to work, it will cease to work. We will become a cold church. Our spiritual voices frozen as the pipes of an unused building become frozen in winter.

It is not just daily devotional time and prayer that we need for fuel, we also need group study and worship. Think about our heating system at the church. It is not just fueled by electricity. It is not just fueled by propane. It requires human beings to maintain the system. It requires human beings to regulate the system. It has fans and belts and motors and many other parts completely foreign to me. When any of these components is out of balance, we end up in a deep freeze in the winter or in sweltering heat in the summer. All are essential to the well being of the whole system. Human beings are the care takers of this system. Our spiritual lives are not much different. Our spiritual growth is dependent on the balace of our time in study as a group, our time in worship together, our time in personal devotion, and our time in service to our Lord. God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit desires to be in a relationship with us, desires us to care for our relationship with God the way we care for the heating systems in our churches and in our homes.

God desires us to be the caretakers of our spiritual lives as we take care of our physical lives. Think about our bodies and how complex they are. If you are struggling with a health issue you know exactly what I mean. We need all different sources of nutrition. We need a variety of exercises. Sometimes we need intervention by medical professionals. Our health is directly related to our care of these complex bodies. When we neglect or overindulge, we become unbalanced and sick. Our spiritual bodies are not separate from our physical bodies either, so how we care for our spirit affects our physical body as well.

As a church, we are the Body of Christ. We can either be a cold body because we have frozen our educational wing or we can be a warm inviting body that beckons in the cold wayfaring stranger because we have been heated up through the study of God's word and fanned the flames of God's refining fires in worship.

Heat has been restored to the educational wing and children and youth were excited to be together. Their laughter echoed down the hall. They were warming up to the practice of study. They were learning of a loving God through their loving teachers and their loving church that kept the cold of the world from touching them during their time in fellowship.

Winter cold can keep us from venturing out into the world to spread God's warmth and love or from times of study and worship. Rely on the heating system of the Holy Spirit to power you through those frozen landscapes. Be safe in the cold and ice, make decisions about travel that keep body, mind, and spirit in balance. If this frozen tundra means a time of Sabbath Rest, carve out time for personal devotions, prayer, and study.

God is waiting...feel the thaw.

One of Many

Epiphany Ponderings

2011-01-08T21:18:00.001-05:00

On Epiphany Sunday our worship was filled with joy unspeakable. We had animals, shepherds, angels, and wise men (actually we had Kings with crowns). There were remarkable moments, like when the lights when out on cue but no one "manned" the switch, or the "animals" who would pop up and down in the manger stall. We told the story through scripture and song about our humanness and God's faithfulness and love. The number of volunteers and servant leaders offered those attending a time of wonder. Isn't that how the song goes, "Star of wonder, star of light...guide us to thy perfect light."

There is something special about that visit of the strangers from the east to find the Christ child. It is not just the music, even though I love "We Three Kings." Funny, the scripture doesn't indicate there were only three. It is not just the gifts. The scriptures only give a description of what was in the treasure chest. Three descriptions to be exact. For me it is about their choice to seek out this child, to follow that star and their faith that the star would lead them to "thy perfect light." Here were people with no relationship to the God of David, of Abraham who see a sign about a child, a King of the Jews and choose to go and seek this child to pay homage. The scriptures tell us they were overwhelmed with joy. Their choice to seek, their choice to follow led them to a place where God was revealed to them in human form and they could only respond with joy.

This group of seekers are so good at reading signs and following the leading of the spirit that they do not return to the place of power and inform Herod where this child lives. They are obedient to the will of God in their lives. Mind you we do not know if this encounter changed their faith allegiance. We can safely assume their faith practices continued. They understand that seeking leads to finding God. They understand that the only response to a divine encounter is to pay homage. They do this two ways, by offering the gifts they have and by safeguarding the gift God gave humanity through an infant.

How then do we who are vested in this story, who seek a relationship with God the Father through his Son Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit not experience that same overwhelming joy? Why are we not eager to seek out the places where we can experience the presense and the power of God? Why do we not follow the guiding of the Spirit who will direct us to a revelation of God?

This Advent/Christmas/Epiphany season, I experienced the wonder and joy when children played bells, women sang songs that were unknown to them, youth read scripture as they promised, children went to long term care facilities not just to sing, but touch the people to whom they sang, older adults agreed to be Mary and Joseph, and with each "Here I am, Use Me" we all became bathed in thy perfect light.

I experienced in this season a community of faith willing to allow joy, willing to allow love, and willing to allow God to guide them to "thy perfect light."

One of Many

Monday Mornings

2011-01-03T11:25:00.000-05:00

There is something so sacred about a Monday morning. It is filled with the sense of new beginnings. This Monday morning is also the first in a new year. What a wonderful time to start practicing some new habits. So I have begun. On the 1st of January I exercised. I did two laps around the church and cemetary property. Abby and husband walking with me. Today I have written two blogs, or will have when I am done here. Then I will write on my papers, visit, and go to a Weight Watchers meeting. Now that is one full Monday.

The morning has been rather quiet, a time of Sabbath Rest. The wonder of the Christmas Season coming to an end. I should be tired and want to sleep rather than rest. Instead there is this energy, this excitement stirred up by the worship of the season. I have much to do in just this week alone. Two Bible Studies, one visioning session, and then worship on Sunday and I get to preach. It has seemed weeks since I have preached. I do not feel overwhelmed. I feel blessed on this Monday morning.

I used to hate Monday mornings. They were filled with dread. In my previous vocations, Mondays were the beginning of the work week and troubles left from Friday seemed to have grown to crisis by Monday. Getting up to drive to work was always a chore. I longed for Friday anticipating the freedom of the weekend.

Now Mondays are the day to reflect on worship from Sunday, visit, go to meetings, and pray over the scriptures for the next Sunday service. Monday mornings are moments with God in prayer discerning the path before me and those I serve. There is the practice of the Ignatian Examen. As I offer to God the day before and allow the Holy Spirit to guide the examination of the day, I can move forward led by the spirit rather than by me.

As I reflected this Monday morning on Sunday and the events that occurred at Plank Chapel. I truly felt blessed. As guests came to our open house, we found them comfortable and relaxed. Groups gathered throughout the home and laughter rang. I am not really sure why the men gathered in the bathroom. It seems the scale was a hit. When I put my feet up in the recliner late that afternoon, there was an afterglow from the fellowship. I must admit though that warm glow began that morning at worship. What a joy we experienced as we encountered the story of Christmas through the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols. A full church and a full chancel. We had animals, angels, wisemen, shepherds, Mary and Joseph as well as great readers and a full choir loft. There were some missing that Sunday and their absence was felt. My prayer is that they experienced a blessing while we worshipped. Still experiencing the afterglow.

It is almost Monday afternoon. Time to write.
One of Many

Ignatian Prayer

2011-01-03T10:55:00.000-05:00

Ignatian Prayer: "The First Principle and Foundation

The goal of our life is to live with God forever.
God who loves us, gave us life.
Our own response of love allows God's life to flow into
us without limit.

All the things in this world are gifts of God,
presented to us so that we can know God more easily
and make a return of love more readily.

As a result, we appreciate and use all of these gifts of God
insofar as they help us develop as loving persons.
But if any of these gifts become the center of our lives,
they displace God
and so hinder our growth toward our goal.
In everyday life, then, we must hold ourselves in balance
before all of these created gifts insofar as we have a choice
and are not bound by some obligation.
We should not fix our desires on health or sickness,
wealth or poverty, success or failure, a long life or short one.
For everything has the potential of calling forth in us
a deeper response to our life in God.

Our only desire and our one choice should be this:
I want and I choose what better
leads to the deepening of God's life in me.

St. Ignatius, from the beginning of the Spiritual Exercises"

Watch Night and God's Refining Fire

2011-01-01T11:24:00.000-05:00

I have always loved singing "Refiner's Fire." Did you know the image comes from the prophetic book Malachi in the Hebrew Scriptures? This messenger of God speaks to the people of Israel, including the Priests. He speaks of the one who is coming who will be the refining fire, purfiying the people like gold and silver. The thing about fires is that while some objects are purified, others are consumed.

Each New Year's Eve during a Watch Night Service, I stand before a fire, a fire to which I surrender what I would like refined within me. I offer to God that which I wish for God's fire to consume and that which I desire God's fire to refine. This year the fire was the first for Plank Chapel. A small group gathered around the fire. Behind us was the church. To our right was our cemetary. We were surrounded by reminders of those who came before. The refining fire of God's love continues to purify our lives that we may be among God's faithful.

The song continues with "my heart's one desire is to be holy, set apart for you, Lord." Then the words, "I choose to be holy." It is truly a choice we make. A choice to submit to the refiner's fire of God's love or to avoid the flames out of fear we will be consumed, not purfied. It is when our heart's desire is to be as in love with God as God is in love with us that the fear disolves. We then have no other choice than to be holy, set about for God.

According to Malachi, that refiner's fire is the one who will come. Jesus Christ, God's refining fire of love, came down and rained upon the earth God's love. Those who encountered him as he walked and talked were refined by that fire, some were consumed, and some fled in fear of the fire. This fire, it is an eternal flame, still burning today, some of us are refined ,some are consumed, and some flee in fear of the fire. Imagine that, being afraid of love. Like flames that reach out and grab for new fuel to consume, God's love reaches out to into the world seeking each of us to be refined by his love. He wishes to consume within us all that does not give God glory, that we might be holy, set apart for God.

Once we are set apart, we may wonder what next? Evelyn Underhill tells us "Adoration, as it more deeply possesses us, inevitably leads on to self-offering. Charity is the live wire along which the power of God, indwelling our finite spirits, can and does act on our souls and other things, rescuing, healing, giving support and light." What is next? Choosing to be holy, set apart for God, offering ourselves in adoration and love to the one who loves us enough to die for us, to conquer death for us and to seek us out that we might follow whereever he leads us.

Choosing to be holy, choosing to be refined by the fire,
One of Many

Christmas

2010-12-26T20:53:00.000-05:00

What would you expect on a Christmas message? If it did not include Abby, it just wouldn't be from me. It has been a very interesting Christmas. Abby has been sick, snow cancelled church, and my son is sleeping in the recliner beside me.

I am a little dense now and then. I did not realize how important Abby has become in my life. She struggled all week with an intestinal difficulty. So I had to find a vet. Would you believe my Vet's office is in a purple house? A beautiful Victorian purple house. So after two visits Abby has finally come back to herself, which means I have too. Her joyful excitement has returned. Now the cats who came for Christmas may not be as excited about this as me. My son traveled with all 4 of his cats. They have had the run of the house with a sick dog. Today, not so much. It is wonderful to have animal chaos in the home. All is well.

As for the sleeping son. This Christmas he and I stayed up all Christmas eve as I taught him the wonder of making Swedish Sweet Bread. This teaching and learning was a continuation of generations of tradition. I felt the presence of my mother, my grandmother, and my great Aunt. I also felt my brothers and sisters who struggle with making this bread, struggle so much that I often mail them loaves. Passing on our stories, our traditions helps us remember who we are. As I taught and he learned, together we remembered who we are as a family. Passing down the stories of our faith and engaging in worship reminds us of whose we are.

He learned how to measure flour as the recipe directed "enough to have an elastic dough." He mixed. He let it rise. He braided. He let it rise. He baked it. He worked this bread for six hours and did not get to really sleep until 5:30 a.m. Then like the boy who has always loved Christmas was up at 8:30 a.m. for presents.

But before baking break, I had voluntold him to read scripture and he did. He reads God's word with such authority and passion. My prayer is that this time in worship reminded him of whose he is. Even last night, as sick as he is, he was preparing for worship on Sunday when he would be reading scripture again. I have to admit that I am blessed. God created this child of mine with imagination, passion, and love. So one of my gifts this season is a week with my son. Now whether or not the cats he has brought will be a gift or curse still needs to be seen.

Cancelling church always feels wrong. I understand that it is in the best interest of those who would come, but it just feels wrong. What has felt so right this season are the special services we have already experienced. The children and youth, with their adult volunteers put together a great Carol Sing. Then on Christmas Eve, the music was a blessing. We had two solos that were a gift to God and to all of us who attended. After the music, scripture and readings were complete we feasted at the Lord's table. What a night. I was looking forward to today and the Festival of Lesson and Carols, but we will wait until Epiphany to be blessed by the combined efforts of the choir and the community. It is so fitting for Epiphany because the lessons end at the visit of the Wise men. My only sadness is that my son will have gone home by then and not be part of the service. Before we experience Epiphany we have Watch Night. I love Watch Night too. Not just because of the fire outside the church, but because it is a wonderful way to experience a new beginning. We end the old year in church and leave at the altar that which will not follow us into the next year. The altar offering is then burnt in the fire. I often give to the fire that which I offer God for the new year.

Have I said how much I love worship in community? I do. It is in community I feel most connected to God. For me a triune God is a communal God. Only in community do I connect fully to the God I so love. So on this Sunday, that became a day of Sabbath Rest due to snow, I miss communing with God in worship with the community I serve.

I have once again been reminded how important community and family are to God. There really is nothing more important than to be in a right relationship with God and with our family, our neighbors, and the world. The transformation of the world is the process of righting those relationships. Just think, when the world is transformed we will be together forever. The process of that transformation began when God became incarnate. Praise the Lord for the gift of Jesus Christ. Praise the Lord for Mary and Joseph who said yes and cared for the baby so vulnerable to the world.

Praise the Lord for giving me the gift of a family and a community to serve. May I be like Mary and Joseph, following the will of God in my life that I may serve both family and community in ways that all come to know, love, and serve God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Restoration

2010-12-14T14:26:00.001-05:00

When you buy a house newly built, you think you will never change a thing. Well, maybe you won't but I did. I thought I would have this home just as it was forever. Until I got tired of beige. We had beige walls, beige carpets, and even a beige counter. It has been almost ten years since we purchased our house. Part of my Sabbath Rest as a pastor is to return to this home about once a month. The quirk of faith is that this rest includes the work of restoration. That is really what Sabbath Rest does, it restores our souls, that is the work of rest.

The house is being restored. Now you might wonder the choice of words. The house is not even a decade old. It wouldn't make any historical register. All this is true but it has had its season of dogs, children, cats, and adults to turn beige into blah. So we have begun to restore it to bright and beautiful. We are painting the walls bright colors and pulling up the carpet.

Laying down the tile has been a spiritual discipline of patience. We cannot accomplish it in one weekend, so we must only lay the tile that can be worked over our time at the house. Each trip we see more completed floor and the sense of accomplishment grows. I can see the living room in warm golds and oranges with the sunlight shining down upon the purple accent pieces. Still within me is that desire for it to be complete. Thoughts of contractors, not sugarplums dance in my head. Yet, looking at the tile, I see not only beauty but God's hand in the process. The beauty unfolds by the work of our hands. The mistakes we have made with the tiles, with the paint do not diminish the beauty. In fact, I believe the character of the family is communing with the character of the house as together we are restoring the home.

I cannot help but think about how God sees us. God sees our wonder, our beauty even when we are making mistakes. God restores us into bright and beautiful creations when we allow the great contractor to enter into our hearts and pull up the carpets of grief, smooth out the rough surfaces of hate, and dig out the bitterness from our veins. Bitterness and unforgiveness can stain our hearts as food and drink stain our carpets. The stains go deep into the fibers of our being as juice stain sinks into carpets. God's love and forgiveness can gut out the old patterns of behavior and thinking. The restoration and renewal is a communal effort as we work with God to place one tile of change at a time. God's love is the grout that holds those tiles of holy habits and holy disciplines in place.

Restoration is a life long process as is caring for a home. It will never be completely done as with all homes, the next year, the next month, the next week, or the next day brings new work. I could get tired looking ahead to the next projects, the kitchen, the baths, the bedrooms, the lights outside, the yard, the deck..................did I say visions of contractors were dancing in my head? We could always spend the money and have others do it for us, but there is something about doing the work, solving the problem, selecting the paint (my husband will share with you that is the extend of my painting), and watching the vision unfold. If I get this much joy out of restoring my house, I can only imagine the joy God gets out of the restoration of each of us. To think each soul transformed, each relationship restored is one moment of joy that is eternal. Why wouldn't we open ourselves for restoration, for joy?

One final thought about restoration. My husband is the tile man. He is on his knees for hours, knees that have been worn out by his years in the Marine Corps. I witness the pain in his back as he rises from the floor. Pain from bending over aggravates the spinal injuries that came from his vocation. I wonder if the price is too high for us to do this alone. One day we may have to higher that contractor.

I cannot help but think about my own restoration. It too has a price, a price paid by God. Jesus Christ not only died for the sins of the world, but suffered great pain. Each step he took to the hill of his death was drenched in his own blood from the wounds of his beating. The crown of the thorns sending sharp pain into his head with every movement. We are getting ready to celebrate his birth. We are in the season of joy, of peace, of love, of hope, all of which we would not know without the suffering, death, and resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,

One of Many

Child of Love

2010-12-14T10:38:00.000-05:00

Today is my son's birthday. He is the most amazing young man I know. He is gifted in so many ways. He can clown better than anyone I have met. He tells stories well. I have to admit he learned that from me. He has a passion for the underdog. His tenacity has helped him through many rough times. When he allows you into his circle, you will know he will never leave you or forsake you.

The most amazing thing for me as his mother is his unique way of being in the world. I often wonder if he doesn't spend more time communing with God than with the world. No he doesn't go to church and he doesn't pray as we understand an active prayer life. He just walks in the light of the Lord. There is always that sense that God is with him. I am not even sure if he is aware of this wondrous connection.

When I discovered I was pregnant with him, my life had little direction. I was not even sure I was lovable. God came into my life in a very powerful way during this pregnancy. In fact, every time I turned around I was being blessed. I have always considered my son a child of love. God's love poured into my womb, poured into my life, poured into my marriage. It took me a few more years to accept the gift of God's grace in my life, but the gift of love who is my son, that miracle continues to bless me every day of my life.

There are two or three wonderful stories of his love and courage that I could share on this celebration day of his birth, but I think I will only share the one that sits here in my heart this day. When my mother was in the last year of her life, she had lived with us for a while. She got ill and was in a long term care facility for 7 months. When she was well enough to travel, she moved to live with my sister. On the weekend scheduled for the move, she got ill. My son agreed to travel with me as we brought his grandmother to his aunt's house. Little did he know what was in store. Mom continued to have issues with her health that required frequent stopping and changing. Her grandson made sure her privacy was respected and never showed any sense of embarrassment as he saw her personal distress. He lovingly supported and cared for his grandmother in a very awkward situation. I will never forget the gift of his presence on that trip and the love he showed to both of us.

Before I share the next story. He is not perfect. He is a messy not a neat. You might say he has perfected messiness. He has the worst of his father's and mother's habits as well as the best of his father's passion and his mother's creativity. He collects strays. Well, better put, strays find him. He currently shares his home with 4 cats. He opens his home to his friends and shares his space with each of them. Some friends even bring dogs. Abby loves to go and visit there, just to play with his cats. Actually, Abby loves to have him pick her up and hold her like a child. But cats appear to find him irresistible. The four at the house are the ones that he was "allowed" to keep. Though it may be more appropriate to say, they keep him.

As we prepare for Christmas, I am saddened because he is not here with me to decorate the tree. It always happened around this time of year. We waited for his birthday before we decorated so that the two celebrations were not linked. The task of placing the ornaments on the tree has always been his. In fact, there were years the tree would not have gone up except that he insisted. So, his dad would string the lights and he would arrange the ornaments while I decorated the house. He is very particular about the placement of those ornaments. Each one special to him and deserved a particular place on the tree. One of the gifts we give each year is an ornament. He thinks that tradition needs to come to an end, but it can't. It is a rule, like socks and underwear. Somewhere under the tree or in the stockings needs to be socks, underwear, and a tree ornament. Santa says so.

As I reflect about Christmas and my son's birth, the two are linked, linked by God's love for me and for the world. God loves the world so much that he gave the world his son. My understanding of the magnitude of God's love for me began with the gift of my son. On this day of celebration of his birth I am remembering how love transforms lives into works of wonder and grace. I can wonder what the future will hold for the child of God I birthed, but I do not have to worry. I can rest in the assurance that God has that covered.

Allow joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Between Times

2010-12-06T12:40:00.000-05:00

It is between times. We are between Autumn and Winter. We are experiencing winter storms when the calendar tells us it is still Autumn. Between times are difficult times. We do not know what clothes to pack away and what clothes we need for the next day. Trees are still shedding leaves yet are covered in ice. I wonder have I prepared for winter? Am I ready to let go of the brilliant colors of the fall? The air changes as well. Fall air moves. It holds scents of apples and spices. It is often rich and warm. Winter air is sharp and biting. It blows patterns of ice webbing on window panes. Between times hold the two in tension. Whether I am ready to change with the season or not, change is coming.

Advent reminds me that between times is the place I stand as a Christian, between the birth of Christ and the return of Christ. The season of Advent holds the two in tension. As we prepare to celebrate the birth of Christ, the readings contain images of what is yet to come. This past Sunday the Isaiah images provided a tableaux of peace. It seems so impossible. It stretches my sense of credulity. Enemies so comfortable in one another's presence that they sleep. Often I get email pictures of similar scenes with cats and mice or dogs and cats or other predators and prey in loving and trusting relationships to remind me it is not a very far stretch, especially for God. Am I ready for that kind of peace? Am I ready to give up all my defenses against an enemy? I cannot be at true peace with an enemy if I do not trust or lay down my weapons. Truth be told, it is God I have to trust, not my enemy.

If I believe God's love and grace are transformative in my own life, then why not in the life of my enemy? My enemy and I can have a truce without God, but true peace will come only through God transforming both of us. Both of us must surrender control to God. Both of us must trust God that the surrender is mutual.

Between times are full of the tension of surrender and retreat. I retreat from surrender when I am unwilling to place my trust in God and the tension mounts. When I surrender to God's will, I no longer feel the tension of between times but a foretaste of the peaceable kingdom. This week my prayer life will be one of being at peace in the tension of the between times. My focus will be on the beauty between times hold. As I learn to be comfortable within my own tension of surrender and retreat, I can offer others space for their own exploration of the tensions within them. Together we may experience Sabbath Rest in the between times.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Transformations

2010-12-04T16:07:00.000-05:00

Hanging of the Greens

It is snowing. I am sitting here thinking about how snow transforms the earth. The dark dead browns of winter are covered in this beautiful blanket of white. My spirit is transformed into the little girl making tunnels and laying in the snow to make a snow angel. I am filled with a renewed sense of joy and hope.

Spiritual transformations are not surface events like snow. It is more like the work that happens deep in the earth during the winter. Change is occurring but it will not break out into the world until the warmth of God's love melts our winter crust.

It is a little like how our sanctuary gets transformed during special seasons of the year. During the year as we study and worship together, we grow deeper in our relationship with God and with our neighbors. Slowly we are transformed and we begin to change in our outward appearance as well as our inward. It is not an all at once change, just as the sanctuary is not changed all at once from ordinary to extraordinary during the Advent Season. The process begins as we hang the greens around the sanctuary and await the arrival of the poinsettias.

I have to stop here, because I was at the church the day they arrived. The brilliant reds created this carpet of color and texture around the sanctuary floor. I could only imagine what they would look like when they were arranged on the altar. The local grower spoke of this year as a good year for poinsettias. The temperature was right and the rainfall perfect. He spoke of seasons when the crops were not quite as brilliant or uniform because of conditions not in his control. He said that he would miss the beautiful rows of red in his green house. He also spoke of a long relationship with Plank Chapel. I couldn't help but think about that and how it relates to our relationship with our Lord and Savior. There are years when we might not bloom as we should for the Lord. We have allowed the circumstances of the world to take control of our spiritual lives. When we allow the Lord in our pain, in our sorrow, in our disappointments, in our anger, in our joy, then the conditions will change and one year we will notice that we are blooming with the love of the Lord. It is a long term transformation. One that is not just for a season.

Seasons are important though. They remind us of the journey of faith. They remind us of the stories of love and sacrifice. The blood red of the poinsettias reminding us of how the story of God's love for us is so great that the incarnate one came to us as a helpless baby and grew into the man who died that the world might be saved. His blood spent for peace on earth.

The beauty of the sanctuary brought me to silence. The abundance of red reminds me of the abundance of grace in a life in Christ. The abundance speaks of hope rekindled and joy transformed.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,

One of Many

A Thanksgiving Offering

2010-11-23T08:47:00.000-05:00

It happened like this. Traditions passed from one community to another. As we approached Thanksgiving, I asked what was the tradition for adorning the altar. I shared how in previous communities I had served, there was an offering of fresh fruit and vegetables on the altar for Thanksgiving Sunday. We decided to invite the Plank Chapel Family to bring fresh fruit, home baked bread, fresh milled grains, fresh vegetables to worship on Sunday to give as an offering of our thanksgiving for all we have received. The fruit and vegetables began to arrive on Saturday afternoon. The altar was arranged and rearranged until the collards arrived and we arranged again. The joy of giving continued as we shared these gifts and made boxes and bags for those in our community as reminders that God loves them and will never leave them or forsake them. The trips to the houses were other gifts of joy and love. Time spent with men and women with great stories to tell, stories of train wrecks, stories of dancing with servicemen during WWII, stories of healing, stories of great thanksgiving. Sunday's worship flowed over into Monday.

I am very thankful for a church family that entered into this worship experience with joy and excitement. Worship was alive and warm and welcoming. We even added to our numbers on that day. Praise the Lord. I cannot wait until next year to see the bounty we bring as God brings bounty into our lives throughout this year. We are prepared to be amazed.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,

One of Many

Hide and Seek

2010-11-23T08:12:00.000-05:00

One day I really will be too old for a youth lock-in. It has been my habit that when I am "locked-in" the church all night with youth and other adult volunteers, I do not sleep if there is any youth still awake. Why do I torture myself like this? There is only one reason, love. I love to watch young people learn about God's love for them. I also enjoy working with them as they grow in their faith. In November I was locked in the church with 4 middle school girls and three wonderful adults. We laughed, we played, we planned, we shared the Eucharist, we watched movies, and then, God blessed us with sleep. I got to sleep for 3 hours.

The game that got the most attention was Sardines. It is like Hide and Seek, except that only one person hides and the rest seek. Then as you find the hidden person, you join them. Slowly it gets down to one seeker, providing those now hiding do not burst into laughter and give themselves away as they are crammed like sardines in the hiding spot. So, we darkened the Education Building and began to play. I soon learned that some were scared of the dark, others were afraid of being scared. As we learned to trust the dark, trust each other, the game became quite fun and the youth did not want to stop playing.

Sardines is very much like the hide and seek of faith. We believe God is hiding from us. Each of us goes out to seek God. When we find God we join him, we do not reveal where he is or bring out into the world what we have discovered. Just when we think all of us are in the dark with God, we realize God is seeking us and we are all hiding, keeping silent, wondering if God will give up searching for us. When God finds us and we are revealed, we run to the light. In truth, whether in the dark or in the light, God is with us, seeking us. God will not give up until all of us are found, whether we are huddled in the dark trying to be hidden, or searching through darkened pathways for the light. What joy it is to be found by God.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Abby the Spoiled

2010-11-22T11:13:00.000-05:00

I have much to share about many things, but this morning I got a little distracted. Abby was my distraction. I got back from town and decided to have a little bread and butter, or as is usual a little bread with my butter. Abby, sweet dog appeared to want to share in my meager breakfast. I gave her a piece of my bread. I looked and she had left it on the floor. I sliced a very thin slice of butter and gave it to her. She quickly ate it and then got her bread. Now imagine that, she wouldn't eat her bread without her butter. I then realized how spoiled Abby is. It shouldn't have surprised me, but I did find her discriminating taste quite amusing. She loves the creature comforts of life and chooses the best places to sleep as well as the best foods to eat.

There is one place where she does not discriminate at all, that is who she loves. You see, Abby loves everyone and everything. Her joy at encountering people, squirrels, cats, and even moles is genuine. She simply loves. Abby's ability to experience joy in all things reminds me of how we are called to love one another. We are to simply love. Not so simple a task though. Conditional love is almost as natural as wanting bread with my butter, but then it is even better when the bread is freshly baked and warm. I will love you if...or I will love you when...or I will love you because...I wonder how often I send those signals to the people I love, that there are conditions on that love. Each day when I sit down to reflect on my actions, my thoughts, my words, I ask God to show me where I have failed to be Christlike and seek ways to change those patterns. I also ask God to show me where I have been Christlike and seek to continue to grow in those holy habits. As I grow in Christ, I have Abby to remind me of the joys and also of the distractions of a life in faith.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,

One of Many

Plank Chapel BBQ

2010-11-12T09:25:00.000-05:00

On Friday, November 5th, Plank Chapel held their annual BBQ. For months, they were sharing with me how well received was their BBQ. I was told how the whole church turned out to work. Each member contributes in one way or another. They make cakes, sell tickets, cook potatoes, chop pork, make the sauce, grind cabbage, stir potato salad, serve plates, clean the floor, and the list goes on. The build up to the event was quite extraordinary. I was concerned they would not live up to their hype.

Sunday - October 31st pigs were already roasting. Teams already set to chop. The schedule include three to four days of work on the BBQ.

Wednesday - Potatoes were brought to the fire station to be cooked and then to the church to cool. Tables of potatoes

Thursday - Coleslaw crew came in to grind the cabbage and add the secret recipe ingredients. Men and women around the silver table laughing and excited about the coming day. Later that evening the Potato Salad crew arrives, huge pot. I was told it would only take about 1 to 2 hours to mix all the potato salad.

Friday - Early in the morning, around 5:30 or so the cookers are lit at the church, chicken and pork on the grills. 8:30 a.m. the crews begin to form. Boxes line the walls of the fellowship hall and coolers surround the prep crew. At 10:00 in the morning the process begins: into the take-out plates goes pork, potato salad, coleslaw, wax paper, plastic silverware with napkin, hush puppies, bread, cake. Around 11:30 the crew moves from the fellowship hall to the kitchen as the tables are set up for our guests to eat in. Slowly members of the community arrive. They are the lucky ones - they get to choose their dessert. As the lunch hour passes, the crew gets moments of rest until around 4:00 p.m. when the pace begins to quicken. We opened a classroom up for additional eat in guests that evening. The cars coming into the church parking lot lined up on Bobbitt Road. We all began to watch the clock, excited that 7:00 p.m. was soon to be here and the doors would close.

By 7:30 p.m. we knew our event had been successful. Many families came and went well fed. BBQ went out by the pound. We had come together, offered a quality meal, and served the community with an opportunity for fellowship. Tired bodies finished the clean up as we ended the day excited about our success.

I am here to state that when you receive a plate from Plank Chapel, you not only get great BBQ, but exceptional coleslaw and outstanding potato salad. When you think you cannot taste anything better, the cake reminds you that here in Bobbitt we have great cooks. The meal is served with love and laughter. Well done!

I began to think about that Heavenly Banquet, the servants around the table, the food at the table, and Jesus presiding at the table and realized how many moments here on earth we get a foretaste but do not even realize that is what we are experiencing. The Plank Chapel family came together in love to prepare this meal in love to be served in love to those who come to feast. They offered Christ to their neighbors through the gift of a most excellent meal. We communed with the Lord on Friday, praise be to God.

The gift continues as the proceeds from this BBQ sale are returned to the community in very personal ways. The Men who sponsor this event use their profits to respond to community needs as well as their church's missional activities.

What I witnessed was a family who worked together to accomplish a mission. The magnitude of their commitment inspired me. The possibilities to serve God through this community are only limited by vision. When we see where we can be deployed to serve God here, we will be a force for God's transformational love. There is an array of talent at Plank Chapel that God can use to recreate a community and bring healing and hope to the broken and lost in our area.

I am in deep prayer for the Holy Spirit to set our hearts ablaze and use us as God wills. All we have to do is...Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

S'Mores

2010-11-06T09:08:00.001-04:00

It has been a wonderful October here at Plank Chapel. A week ago we had our Fall Festival. Families came and played together, ate together, and roasted marshmallows together. I found these great camping marshmallows for the S'Mores. They were huge. When they were roasted they managed to get marshmallow goo all over our faces and hands. We laughed at the goo and got sick on the sugar. I learned a lesson about marshmallows and S'Mores. The regular size marshmallow is much better. When I super sized the marshmallow it dwarfed all the other wonderful flavors of a S'More and challenged the eater.

I couldn't help but think about that in terms of my faith life. God provides all that I need. The world says, "Let me super size that," and suddenly I am eager for the more that moves beyond my needs to my wants. I fail to reflect on how my choice to super size may impact my health, may impact others through my wasteful spending, may impact the environment as resources are depleted to respond to the "super sized" request, and creates a super sized gulf between God and I as I seek to respond to the world rather than to God. The God who created the universe, created all things to be in relationships that enhance the nature of creation.

S'Mores are this marriage of a warm sugary substances that melts the hardened chocolate when the two are forced together through the textured graham crackers. When you bite into these treats, you hear the crunch of the cracker, taste delicious chocolate as the soft marshmallow explodes out the sides. All your senses are engaged in this eating experience, especially when it is done outdoors with friends around a smoldering campfire. The preparation of this experience includes the hunt for the perfect marshmallow stick, whittling it down to the green wood, and skewering the marshmallow.

As we go on a hunt for meaning in our lives, searching for that perfect fit of our purpose and understanding of creation, God finds us. I bet you are thinking that now we (you and I) will become either the stick or the marshmallow...we'll see. Back to seeking and finding. When we believe what we are looking for is a tool for us to use, God shows us that a life in faith is so much more and that God is control, not us. God shows us it is not about the stick. It isn't even about the S'Mores. It is about the community, about relationships. As we gather to share in this campfire delicacy, we share stories about previous campfires. We laugh over the silliness of our marshmallow browning. In the laughter, in the stories we remember all the wonders of growing up and all the other campfires and all the people sharing similar moments. We know then that there is this connection that begins before we were born and has no end. This connection is love, this connection is God. Yet when the discussion moves to those difficult faith questions, we find there are many differences in how we believe.

Similar to roasting marshmallows. It is here the debate begins, "burnt to a crisp marshmallow" or golden brown. The outside coloring is not the only point up for debate. Do you roast until the insides are turned to liquid or keep the marshmallow rather firm. So many ways to enjoy a S'More. Though there are many ways to enjoy a S'More, there are essential ingredients for a S'More to be a S'More. There must be a marshmallow, chocolate, and graham crackers.

There are those who will only use particular marshmallows (they would have never tried to super size their marshmallow). Their chocolate is from only one candy company and their graham crackers, only one bakery. Some men or women may move to a more popular chocolate or possible different forms of chocolate. There is the group that may want to use various colored marshmallows or coconut marshmallows (I may have to experiment with those one campfire.) Others may interpret marshmallow to include other forms of fluffy confection, or graham cracker to mean any crisp bread product. While we welcome innovation around S'Mores, there comes a time when the end product ceases to be a S'More. How do we know when we cross the line from S'More to S'Mthingother? We each draw the line depending on what we believe is essential to a S'More.

There are so many ways for us to express our faith and also as many theological positions out there to match those expressions. There remain essentials to our faith that without those essentials we move into heresies. Now comes the debate as different denominations and faith traditions work to define what is essential and what is not. I'll bet you are wondering what I consider essential about now.

For me, one of my favorite prayers is "The Great Thanksgiving." It is my favorite because it speaks directly to what I believe is essential in my faith. The prayer is a prayer prayed in community. As we pray we remember the story of God's love. God's love that created a universe, breathed into us the breath of life and when in our humanness our love fails God continues to rescue us from captivity, and sends to us prophets to remind us of God's love and call us home. We offer a corporate response to that love. Then we remember Jesus Christ, why he came, what he did, with whom he ate, and that through his suffering, death, and resurrection the church was born, and we were once again rescued, rescued from sin and death. We continue in our prayer to remember that in his ascension we received the gift of the Holy Spirit, that God will be with us always through the Spirit and the word. As we enter deeper into this prayer we remember what Jesus did in the upper room. Then communally we proclaim, "Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again." As we pray for the Holy Spirit to be poured upon us we also pray that the Spirit will make this community one. We affirm in this prayer that Christ will come, will have victory and we will feast at his heavenly banquet as one community.

So my faith S'More is a little like this...the graham crackers are God at the beginning and the end. The middle is the journey...it looks different for each of us as we struggle with our relationship with God and with the world. That's right, we become the marshmallow or the chocolate. It is best when shared, shared with those who love God as much as I do, and shared with those with whom tasting and seeing that the Lord is good is a new experience. What joy!

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Moments of Grace

2010-10-13T10:44:00.000-04:00

This week is filled with special events that do not happen regularly in my life. I spent two days in Durham at Pastors' School and Convocation. Each year I do not overly stress over good or poor workshops or speakers because I know at some point I will be blessed. I was. Twice blessed.

The first was spending time with a good friend. I realized that I do not take the time for Sabbath Rest with friends often enough. The time laughing, walking, eating, texting was a time of rest for my soul. I remembered again how God places people in our lives. People are tangible evidence that God will never leave us or forsake us. I also realized I am not taking the intentional time I need to take for Sabbath Rest with the people who are important to me. I am refreshed from the encounter with a friend. I am also thinking about other friends that I need to rest with very soon.

The second blessing was very much God orchestrated. It went something like this. The 9:00 a.m. speaker on Tuesday was unknown to me two days ago. I was considering sleeping in and just showing up for my workshop at 11:00 a.m. I managed to rise in time to travel to Durham for the early plenary. As I entered the auditorium, Andy Crouch was sitting at a grand piano. As his fingers played out the music of a spiritual, his voice nuanced the hope that "there must be a God somewhere." He led us into this song and into an hour of turning into the concept of being "image bearers in a very good world" (his words - good words). At the end of the hour, our voices were once again lifted in song and tears trailed down my face. I was restored. I was fed. I was reminded again of my calling to share the healing and hope filled message of the Gospel. Andy Crouch gave me new words and new metaphors to share this message with those I am called to serve. Today I am allowing those words and metaphors to replenish all the cells in this "image bearer's" body. Thank you Andy Crouch for that blessing, though the "image bearers" in that room with me were part of that blessing. Our voices raised together in chorus supporting the melody line that wove around us reinforced for me the blessing of people, of "image bearers." We are not alone. The one whose image we bear is always with us in those sent to share with us the message, the journey, and the joy.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Cold Feet

2010-10-06T14:26:00.000-04:00

This day as I sit and work on various projects that warm my heart, I find my feet are rather cold. It is not winter yet, but the nights have become down right frigid here in Kittrell, North Carolina. The house could be warmer, but I was raised by a mother who knew how to stretch the dollar. This meant layers. Layer to stay warm when it is cold and to pull off as it warms up. So my feet are now socked and still feel cold.

As I thought about my cold feet and those projects that are warming my heart, I wondered if I would allow that heat to extend to my feet and move me into the doing of those projects. Actually, the doing is not just mine, it is the doing of the Body of Christ in our formation as disciples reaching out to those who are in need of salvation. Will we all get cold feet? Will we decide that putting on layers will keep our feet warm, insulating us from the world or will we engage in the brisk work that warms the whole body?

I just looked out my living room window to the most gorgeous of blue skies. The white clouds are airy and brillant. The trees are gently swaying in the wind. It is an inviting view that beckons me to shut down the computer and enter into the crisp fall air. Then my cold feet speak, "Do we have to go out there, it might still be cold." My mother's answer would be "dress in layers." Abby said, "I need to go out." Abby is talented, but she cannot speak, her eyes told me she had to go outside. So, I stepped outside. What a beautiful day. I smelled burning leaves from childhood. I felt the blisters on my hands from raking those leaves. I tasted the hot cocoa with the marshmellow floating on top. In just five steps, my senses remembered the outdoors. My memories connected me to the wonder of the seasons, then my feet got cold, no shoes.

As I retreated back into the house, back to my keyboard, I thought some more about cold feet and the warmth of the familiar. My feet are still cold even after putting on the purple slippers a dear woman knit for my mother. I realized my focus is on me, my feet, my comfort, my warmth. Going outside means going outside of myself to the other. My focus has to shift to you, your feet, your comfort, your warmth. It gets real scary when I have to give you my purple slippers so that your feet can be warm. I lose something precious to me. Yet, I gain so much more. I gain a new relationship with you. You who are precious to God.

I believe our fear of losing what is precious to us is one of the reasons we get cold feet when we seek out the lost for Jesus Christ and invite them into our warm houses of worship. The lost have needs. The lost have opinions. The lost have voices. When we invite in the lost, all our lives are changed. We all become found. What was once comfortable and familiar becomes filled with new faces, new expressions, and new opportunities. We might put layers of attitude between us and the other to keep the other from defrosting us. It is new growth. In order for trees to have new growth and fruitful crops, pruning is required. Pruning is not pleasant for the one being pruned. The process might even cause us to have cold feet. We might rather be grand old trees without fruit rather than feel the sharpness of the edge of the pruning tools.

Somehow I have managed to mix all my metaphors and jumple up my message. Plainly speaking. Put your socks and shoes on. Go out into the world. Allow the lost to find you. You will experience God in the midst of the encounter.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

My Birthday

2010-09-22T09:56:00.000-04:00

Last week I had a birthday. I spent much of the day with a group of clergy as we took some Sabbath Rest together, worshipping, feasting, and hearing some important words from a learned scholar. I believe the one word that I will share from what I am still digesting is the word of the Holy Spirit. I was thinking how we attempt to strip power from God as we try to suppress that power that is within us. The domestication of the Holy Spirit within us causes us to be crippled in our expressions of faith. We tend to tame down our responses to the spirit's prodding because we might appear weird to those around us.

God cannot be domesticated or stripped of power. In so many ways we attempt to do just that as we think we have a handle on exactly who God is or what God is. This week I have been in lectures to help in the writing of papers for ordination. One of the scholars spoke about Trinity. No, not the woman from the Matrix, but the Triune God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. As he worked with us about the mystery of God, what we do not know about God becomes this great sea with depths we cannot reach. I find that very comforting. I love that God is mystery. I like knowing that there is always something new to learn. I enjoy having a relationship with God that challenges me to continue to explore what it means to be a child of God. I do not want a God I can figure out or that fits into a slogan. Once that happens, the roles reverse and I become God and God becomes my child.

Today is my sister's birthday. She too is mystery. What saddens me today is that we share very little time together. It saddens me because when we have been together, the conversations have been deep and rich and full. I have found this to be true with all my brothers and sisters. Each together moment has revealed to me a little of the mystery of who they have become. That is one of the differences between humans and God. God is not becoming, God is. I become because I am a creature, one who is created. My family becomes because they too are created. I cannot know more of the mystery of God without spending time getting to know God, just as I cannot know my family without spending time with them. Instead I am stuck with images captured in time. I have stereotypical understandings of my brothers and sisters from inaccurate memories of times together. In order for our relationships to mature as family, continual contact is required. Not just Facebook status updates, but time spent together. Time where we can laugh, cry, get angry, get sarcastic, eat, sleep, and touch. The multi sensory experience deepening our understanding of who we are as individuals and what makes us family.

As the Body of Christ, children in the Family of God, it is the same thing. We cannot know who we are as the Body unless we meet frequently together, sharing our hopes, our fears, our pains, our sorrows. We grow together in love through our love of God and God's love of us. We deprive our lives of the rich fullness of our heritage as God's children when we choose not to meet, not to gather, not to share. We lose something of ourselves when we put distance between one another and between us and God. In the struggle of relationships we come to understand how deep is God's love in us and through us. When we open ourselves to the power of Holy Spirit, the barriers we erect to keep God out, to keep others out become permeable. As we open to the world, the world opens to us and we can see the mystery of God in the majesty of God's creation.

Got to go, have another meeting, another opportunity to connect to the world God created, another opportunity to grow.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Okra Slime

2010-09-13T10:02:00.000-04:00

I have this friend who doesn't eat Okra because she cannot stand the slime. As an okra lover, one of its endearing qualities for me is the slime. You see, when you cook okra if you do not cut into the pod, you can keep the slime to a minimum. Once you cut it open, slime becomes part of the dish you are preparing. The slime actually is a great thickening agent in gumbos. Gumbos are great dishes, filled with a combination of vegetables and meat you might not normally put together and the flavors are blended to create this spicy stew that when served with rice can satisfy the most discriminating taste. Gumbo even got its name from the Okra plant. The other benefit we get from having Okra in our gumbo is that it is filled with vitamin C and has great fiber for our diets. Quite a powerful little vegetable.

Sort of reminds me of how the saving grace of God given by Jesus Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit moves through my life. It is like Okra slime. If I do not open myself to the world and share the love of God with others, not much slime. When I do, all I touch is coated with slime. The Holy Spirit covers those with whom I enter into a relationship. We become like gumbo, unique individuals from various places and different histories creating a community stew. The power of the Holy Spirit adds fiber to our message of love and fortifies us with the love of God through our daily dose of vitamin "JC." The love of God and love of neighbor is the thickening agent in our community as we focus on the cause of Christ and move out together to share God's love with those starving and lost in our neighborhoods.

I was recently gifted with fresh Okra. One of those wonderful gifts of garden fresh vegetables. I recognize that I receive these wonderful gifts from others who have labored to produce these vegetables. The labor of love that was the journey of Jesus Christ from cradle to cross to crown also gives me a gift. The gift of reconciliation with my God and with my neighbor. Today I offer a prayer of thanksgiving to gardeners who labor for my food and to God who labored for my soul.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,

One of Many

Tomatoes

2010-08-31T10:44:00.000-04:00

I have been enjoying a gift over the past week. The gift of fresh picked home grown tomatoes. As I was cutting into these deep brilliant red tomatoes, I began to wonder about the differences between store bought and home grown. I arranged quarter slices on my plate next to my chicken breast. Since one dark red slice did not fit, I sacrificed and ate it from the cutting board. As taste buds encountered tomato childhood memories erupted with each succulent bite. Growing up, my dad had a small garden and grew the best tomatoes, Beefsteaks. One thick slice of these large tomatoes would cover the piece of bread needed for a BLT. But then my thoughts wandered back to the trail about store bought tomatoes and even the ones called "greenhouse ripened." The flavor just does not match those freshly picked garden style tomatoes with the imperfections on the sides and sometimes the worms in the middle. I imagine there are some who do not have memories to return to when they eat fresh tomatoes and have only known store bought. So would they find the taste of a garden grown tomato wonderful or so different they would not consider it a tomato? Would they think the taste was just "wrong?" Would they find the imperfections meant a bad tomato and throw it away?

As I wondered about this I thought about my faith journey. When I think about who I am as a follower of Christ, I realize I am blemished, hopefully do not have worms inside, but ripened by the Son of God. I have not come from a greenhouse that mass produces one particular variety of Christian or another. I think that non-Christians expect a greenhouse variety of Christian. We are all to be perfect, without any sin in our words, our actions, our lives. When they encounter us, they find these imperfect humans who love God and love neighbor. We do not always get it right and sometimes we seem to get it all wrong. We continually strive for perfection in Christ. We continually work through our conversion, as we replace unholy habits with holy habits and unholy tempers with holy tempers. I still wonder though, if the unchurched or non-Christians think we are just wrong and throw away the gift of salvation because the one who is witnessing to them about the gift and giver is blemished. I have heard from a few sources that their hesitation to accept the gift God offers through Jesus Christ is because we, as a group of people who profess Jesus Christ as our savior, cannot get along with each other. As we struggle with our faith and our understanding of a life in faith we also struggle with being the Body of Christ. God is perfecting this imperfect Body as well. For now, we are an imperfect Body with blemishes, and yes, we may have some worms inside. For me though, I am not complete without being a part of this imperfect Body. This imperfect Body is like that imperfect home grown tomato except it is being ripened by the Son of God through the power of the Holy Spirit. It is a taste of heaven to worship together, work together, and grow in grace together.

I too am attempting to grow tomatoes. My gifts do not appear to be of the gardening variety. Much to my surprise, one of our two tomato plants managed to produce a tomato. Now it was about the size of a large grape tomato but should have been one of those Beefsteak. I picked it before my husband came home. He let Abby out and then was so upset because he thought a critter had gotten his tomato. We each got half of the tomato which equaled one bite. The smile was instantaneous. The tomato a success. It was sheer childlike delight in the taste of a home grown tomato. Mind you, we are not going to change careers and become farmers, but we are going to appreciate all the gifts we receive from those who do farm or garden.

I believe God has a childlike delight in each of us who ripen into the people of God we were created to be. I believe God is particularly gleeful over the many varieties and colors of the garden. Even when we believe we are stunted in our growth, like our poor little tomato, we can still pack powerful flavor for God.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Gray days and Blueberries

2010-08-19T12:18:00.000-04:00

On gray days when the air is moist and the sun seems lost in the grayness, I feel like I am in a thin place. A thin place in Celtic spirituality is a place where the distant between heaven and earth has thinned. Those of us on earth believe we could reach out and touch heaven in a thin place. You may wonder why gray feels like a thin place for me. Don't worry I'll tell you. It is the moisture in the air. As I walk and feel the faint touch of water against my skin and rests there like down on a baby bird, it feels like God brushing against me or touching my cheek. As I become enveloped by this mist of water and a breeze blows cooling air across the surface, I can remember I am a child of God by water and the spirit. Gray days are for walking in the thin places and sharing them with those we love.

Sharing. The gift I just received in this thin space was the gift of fresh picked blueberries. They are plumb and deep blue. Each berry is like a burst of sunshine and sugar in the mouth. When the kind man from my church called and offered blueberries, I was not prepared for the bounty of goodness or the bounty of good memories. When I was a young girl, my mother's aunt had a blueberry patch near Columbia Lake in Connecticut. I remember the tin can hung around my neck by string as I walked through the patch picking berries, my bare feet in sloppy keds too big for me. Mind you, my can filled very slowly in comparison to how quickly my stomach filled. Summer gatherings on the lake with my mother's family were lost when we moved away. I love when the past and the present intersect through the gift of food. Isn't that what happens at the Lord's Table? Through the gift of bread and cup we remember our past, whose we are, our present, who we are in Christ, and our future, who we will be with Christ. It also re-members us as a community. The shared table offers memories of times past with those with whom we have shared this sacred meal. The shared table offers hope for future gatherings with those who have yet to taste the bread or drink the cup. The promise is that we will all be re-membered at that heavenly feast. One might say that Holy Communion, the Lord's Supper, Eucharist is a thin place where heaven and earth meet.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

The Couch

2010-08-17T10:35:00.001-04:00

Yes, that's right the replacement couch has arrived. Abby began to lay claim to her side immediately. She claims most of the couch actually, but only when we are ready to sit down and put our feet up. Then she claims the very spot we desire. Reminds me of the church sometimes and how we feel when someone takes our pew, or our seat at a meeting, or our seat at the covered dish dinner. It just doesn't feel right to sit somewhere else. We become creatures of habit. We do not really begrudge the person our place, we just feel so out of place when we have to move from that comfortable spot. We become exiles. I know it is just the next seat over or the next pew, but it feels like a foreign land. Jeremiah 29:4-7 reminds us that we are to make the foreign land our home for the time we are in exile. Sounds to me like God would prefer us to seek out those places that feel the most foreign to us and set up house. What strikes me most in those 3 verses is God not only wants us to set up house, but God wants us to pray to God on behalf of that foreign land and those who call it home, who are comfortable there. Think on this, we may have caused them discomfort by settling in on their favorite piece of property, taken their place at the table of our host, or sat in their pew, or taken the very spot they wanted to lay claim to on the new couch.

Did I mention that the couch arrived damaged. The box it came in had gouges so large I worried about the condition of the couch, so I began a photo journal in case it too was to be returned. When my husband came home and we opened the box, the couch appeared to be in working order and good condition, until we brought it into the house. Then we discovered a broken zipper. Seemed minor to us compared to the box. We tried out the mechanisms for converting to lounger, to bed and back again. All was solid. Then I laid down. My husband noticed at that time a tear on the bottom edge of the couch. Further investigation showed a tear in the metal frame, as if the edge of a forklift had cut into the couch. Massive disappointment. We were going to have to return another couch, be without for another week or two and we were just not happy. I sent the photos and an account of our displeasure to the company. We ended up keeping the couch and received a discount on the cost because it was damaged. Quite satisfied with the outcome, we now only have to fight Abby for a place on the couch.

We could have continued the cycle of purchase, receive, open, return until we got the perfect couch, but then we would have been sitting in garden furniture forever. The red couch is flawed, but it sits well, sleeps well, and lounges well. It performs the functions for which it was made. Over time it will begin to conform to the contours of our bodies and become the new comfy couch, perfect for cradling us when we need Sabbath Rest. I am very glad God does not engage in the process of creating, discarding, and creating again until God creates the perfect me. I am flawed. I admit it. In my imperfect state, God loves me and desires for me to not only love God and love neighbor, but love myself. As I learn to love God, neighbor, and self as God loves then I am perfected in love. As I continue to grow in my relationship with God, I grow into the woman God created me to be. Jeremiah is the lectionary readings for the next six weeks. This coming Sunday it is Jeremiah 1:4-10. The Lord reminds Jeremiah, "Before I created you in the womb, I selected you; before you were born, I consecrated you." I am reminded that flawed as I am, I am created by God and consecrated by God to be used according to God's perfect will, that I need not have a spirit of fear because God is with me even in foreign lands.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Anne Rice

2010-08-11T11:54:00.000-04:00

I listened this morning to an Anne Rice interview about her decision to quit Christianity. She talked about her commitment to Christ as real. She added a very public face to the dilemma facing the Church universal. More and more people of faith do not want to be connected or associated with any organized body of believers. Anne Rice carries it even beyond any organized body, but to the public's conception or misconception of Christian. I believe we need to listen with the ears of Christ to hear what she has not been afraid to say to all of us professing the name of Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior, all who call ourselves Christian.

Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors, Open House

2010-08-09T10:52:00.000-04:00

Abby on the lookout for...

This Sunday we had open house at the parsonage. What a joy to welcome into our home the members of our church family, the parsonage is their home as well. It is a blending of mine and yours that becomes ours. As they walked the halls they know better than I, they caught glimpses of a couple who have traveled far, have particular interests, gifts, and passions. They learned of other people as well, as the "stuff" on the walls, on display are all gifts with great stories of love. Rooms took on new functions and brought a new perspective to all of us. The hallway they thought they knew now looked much longer than they remembered. I got to share the Abby stories of her ball and the long hallway.

As I look back on that day, I realize how shifting a room's function opens minds to new possibilities. Rearranging furniture can open doors to new ideas. Opening the blinds can open our hearts to the beauty of the world around us. What if the church had an open house? I know as United Methodists we speak of having open hearts, open minds, and open doors. How often do we hold open houses so that the community can experience our hearts, our minds, or find doors that open to rooms that welcome them in with comfy couches beckoning them to sit, rest, share their burdens with our Savior, the master of our home, Jesus Christ? Once, twice, weekly, monthly, annually?

Here's what I am thinking. I know to have my open house, my husband and I had to finish unpacking. We put up our favorite pictures on walls that called out to display the artwork. We vacuumed, we dusted, we cleaned floors, toilets, and he went out in the heat of the summer and cared for the lawn. We continued to discard "stuff" we wondered why we packed. Rooms were arranged to be welcoming and free of clutter. Food was selected and purchased that would be nourishing as well as delicious. Our focus was to make each visitor feel welcome. Our home was to be a place where they would long to return for conversation, maybe, for rest, if that was their need, for laughter, for loving acceptance.

If we, as a church family, went through our sanctuary, our classrooms, our office space, our kitchen, our fellowship hall, our specialized ministry spaces and prepared them for visitors, for strangers, for friends, for family so that those spaces offered all who entered a place of love and acceptance and then held an open house every week, would the stranger come? Well, the stranger, the friend, the estranged church member, the family members would also need invitations. My open house would have just had open doors that no one walked through because no invitation had been given. My heart and my mind may be open but no one would know if I did not extend my hand out to others.

In the process of preparing for an open house, the church family can engage in the process of asking questions about the spaces we use, the spaces we do not use, and the possibilities each space offers. If we consider shifting the functions of rooms, how does that open the space, open the doors, open our hearts and minds to new ministries in our midst? How does changing a room's function change our perspective? I remember hearing yesterday as visitors experienced the room we turned into our den/family room/media center comments about the room's size, its original function of master bedroom, and how the new function was a surprise yet offered us, the parsonage family a place to play, to relax.

The Long Hall

As I think about this new home I live in, I recognize I took the space and created within the space places that provide for the body, mind, and spirit. My office is where I do the administrative function of my role as pastor as well as sermon preparations. The living room is my space for prayer, study, reflection, and conversations without distractions. The kitchen/dining room is where the body is nourished with loving care, and has been extended to the deck that holds the grill that suffered only minor surface damage in the storm. We have a room for a guest to feel welcomed. The space filled with all but the bed (it is coming) to offer the guest a place of retreat. My husband has his own space to claim (though he is willing to share it with me since it holds the printer). It has been a joy to watch him design his space. It is not a man cave. It holds his creativity, his strength, and his compassion. We have a room for sleep and a room for relaxing that has enough space for us to exercise (once I find a cure for my allergy to exercise). Abby has her exercise hall. We have a yard that welcomes birds, turtles, squirrels, deer, lizards, frogs, praying mantis until Abby races out to greet them. Her exuberance normally scares them off. It is an open house, all our welcome to visit and share in the love of Jesus Christ.

God's house is always open. The outposts here on earth are not always so. Some scare us off with their exuberance when we approach. Others appear to be closed as no ones opens the door when we approach. Some seem so open we cannot find a focus for our prayers. Some appear so rigid in their focus we find no connection to our understanding of God. Some do not accommodate our physical restrictions. Others have so much clutter we cannot find our way in or get lost on our way out. Some are so huge we feel lost and insignificant. Others are so small we feel afraid they will close. If our church is the outpost for God on earth should it not be an oasis for the pilgrim parched from the dry and savage ways of the world? Should it not always be open? Should not someone be eagerly waiting to greet us? Should it have a place for us to feel welcomed?

There is a great deal of literature out there on how to make our churches, the outposts, welcoming, inviting, filled with the "stuff" the world needs. I know I will be introducing this concept of preparing for an open house to my church family. I will ask all of us to be in prayer in the process. I am very hesitant to consider filling it with programs, with stuff. There is a Feng Shui way of design that is popular in the culture. I will be asking my church family to enter in the Holy Spirit way of design for our church's structure, our room functions, our programs, our ministry, our mission. Pray with me.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,

One of Many

Summer Storms

2010-08-06T11:42:00.000-04:00

I love storms. I know they leave a path of destruction in their wake, but there is just something magnificent about a storm. I love its power. I love the wind that whips through the trees. I love the crack of lightening. I love the sound of rolling thunder. Did I say I love storms. I do.

Last night we had a summer storm, with lightening, thunder, wind, and rain. The grill just purchased two days ago fell victim to the wind. We still have not done the triage to determine its injuries. It appears to have only received minor bruising. I wanted to stand in the rain and feel the wind, but good sense and a smart husband kept me sheltered from the lightening.

Storms focus my attention on the immediate, the right now. My senses are heightened and I am very present to the presence of nature that cannot be ignored. If only I could be the same each day with God, that I could be very present to the presence of God. God sometimes engages my life like a storm through brick wall type encounters that I can only acknowledge are God. Mostly, though, God is not a mighty wind or roaring thunder or pounding rain in my life, God is the steady beat of my heart. I can ignore my heartbeat, unless of course I did something quite out of the ordinary for me like exercise and my heart is racing and I gasp for breath. The funny thing about my heartbeat is that its constant beating keeps me alive even when I forget it is beating. God is the same way, his presence keeps me alive even when I am caught up in things of the world and forgetting him. God has not forgotten me.

Storms help me to remember the wild untameable love of God. When I asked God into my life, the storm of God's love whipped through my heart, my mind, and my spirit, cleansing me of sin. It reminds me of when a strong storm is no destructive communities are destroyed. The new birth in Christ is like the rebuilding of the community. As the community comes together in the crisis and begins the rebuilding, we see a common goal and a united front. As time progresses and basic needs are met, the community begins to be less cohesive and goals are at cross purposes. The same goes for my Christian growth, as God grows within me and molds and shapes me into the woman God created me to be, my humanity grows as well. Sort of like the wheat and the tares we read about in Matthew. As long as I am human both grow within me. When I neglect or forget to keep my focus on God, the tares grow faster than the wheat. I am so glad I did not use Kudzu as my illustration for sin, though it might be interesting to use Kudzu as an illustration for Holy Spirit. Another day, another blog. Back to storms.

In the midst of this storm I had a committee meeting at church. A few of the committee members braved the elements and set out to the meeting. The meeting ended up being postponed and the members had to brave the elements once again to return home. After checking that all were safe, I realized how fortunate we were that the only harm done appeared to be the church phone. I checked, it's working. Then it struck me that this community I am serving cares a great deal about their commitments to God, to their church, and to one another, care enough to go out in a storm to attend a meeting. This place of worship for them is a shelter from the destructive storms of life. It is the lighthouse for the community. I have been called to be the lighthouse keeper, no each member of this church is called to share in the duties of keeping the lighthouse. One of my duties is to be on watch.

Storms require us to be alert, to be on watch for the safety of those we love. This summer storm reminded me of the power of God's transforming love and the call God placed on my life for this community I am serving.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,

One of Many

Today is His Birthday

2010-08-04T10:07:00.002-04:00

Today is my husband's birthday. As he tools down the road on his motorcycle this year, his age will be staring him in the face. He has reached a milestone, one of those speed limit signs, 55. He is not aging gracefully. He is aging in the way that is so uniquely who he is. On this day that we will celebrate the gift God gave the world in him, the nation will hear of another man's birthday, President Obama. For me though, the great man born this day is my husband. Don't be fooled, I know he isn't perfect. I know all the parts of him that are frustrating and sometimes downright infuriating. One day I just may blog about sock ball viruses, or being flat surface challenged. I also know those parts are part of what makes him so great in my heart and in my life.

He is my high school sweetheart. His care of me began back then when he would cross town to pick me up and then drive back into town to go to school. He was a "bad boy" in school and because of that I did not have to worry one bit about being picked on or made fun of or laughed at. He was my defender, my champion. He has continued to be my champion. He encourages me in all my visions and dreams. We may not see eye to eye on the best ways to bring peace into the world, but we both believe in peace. We may not agree on the basic nature of human beings, but we both believe all human beings are of value.

His soft spots are children, animals, particularly dogs (he would rescue them all if I let him), and he would say me. Though, his love of motorcycles may trump...no it doesn't. That is why I love him so very much. His love for me is unconditional. Each time I stop and think about that I am truly humbled because I know I am not worthy of that love. Before I continue, I need to make one thing clear, I do not believe my husband is Jesus Christ, I believe through the imperfect being who is my husband, Jesus Christ was revealed to me in the love a husband has for his wife.

Fifteen years ago, I came to Jesus Christ and accepted him as my savior. Before that I never really understood God's unconditional love for me. I was searching for many things back in those years. I was reaching out to something to hold on to and claim as my own. It was a very rocky time in our marriage and I was not a very nice woman. I was especially not very nice to my husband, yet he continued to love me, feed me, clothe me, provide a home for me, listen to me, and fight for me. Does that sound somewhat scriptural to you? It did to me. When Jesus asks us to love our neighbor, he also asks us to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick, and care for the stranger in our midst. I was pretty strange to my husband. His love opened my heart to Christ's love for me. One night, all alone, I asked Jesus to come into my life.

Over the years, that simple request has changed my life, my marriage, my family, and my vocation. God had a plan for my life that was so unexpected. My husband and I would never have guessed it included a calling to ordained ministry. What I knew most that night in my apartment was that I would never be alone again, that God would be with me always. I also knew I wanted all those who felt alone and lost to know the same thing. I wanted to share God's unconditional love with others. I wanted others to know that each one is a precious gift from God. I wanted them to experience love as I experienced love. If I could be for others the conduit for God's love as my husband was for me, then I was ready to be used by God.

Fifteen years later, my husband and I are still learning how to show that unconditional love to others and sometimes to each other. We are still learning how to lead a community to love one another, those within and those who are considered outsiders. We both believe God will be faithful in bringing about the reign of God. We both believe God is calling us all back to Eden, to a new Jerusalem. We, as a world, will not see this completely until we have all learned how to love one another unconditionally, until all the naked have clothing, all the hungry have enough food to eat, all the homeless have sustainable shelters, all those who are sick and heavy laden have a place to lay their burdens down and be healed, and that there are no strangers in our communities, no outsiders.

On this 55th anniversary of my husband's birth, I thank God for the gift of him to the world, but mostly of the gift of him to me. I would not be the woman of God I am today without my husband's unconditional love for me. Happy Birthday!

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Returns

2010-08-02T10:45:00.001-04:00

Today I await the trucking company to pick up my futon couch I am returning. It was this real cool futon, it not only transformed from couch to bed but to lounger as well...well...the lounger mechanism stopped working within two weeks of owning said couch. We have chosen not to live with a broken couch but to return said couch. In the meantime I am requesting a replacement couch. The color of this piece of furniture is a beautiful red. It looks great in the den. My current dilemma is an open house scheduled for Sunday. No couch, or the possibility of a couch by the end of the week.

The other difficulty that has arisen is not only the inconvenience of no couch, but the process of returns. The original box was removed to the dump the week of purchase. The company has a 90 day return policy but wants it in the orginal box. No original box. The transport company prefers boxes. The size box we would need will not fit in our car, and is rather expensive. We opted for strong plastic, which I understand will have an additional shipping cost for the company we purchased the couch from. I will wait to see if that cost is filtered down to us. I was not here the day they came to pick up the couch, so now I await a call or the truck. There is even an inconvenience in the waiting, the time of pick up is from 8 am to 7 pm. Hmmm, easy to plan a day around that schedule. This inconvenience almost tipped the scales to living with a broken couch.

Living with our brokenness can become complacency. We are broken and there is nothing we can do to fix it. This is the life we are meant to live. It is too difficult to change. It is too much trouble to learn the new behaviors required to move from our broken state. The transformation that God can accomplish in our lives still requires us to act. When Jesus healed, those he healed acted. The broken either sought out Jesus or responded to his questions. The desire to be healed was not what brought about the healing act, the movement towards healing moved Jesus to heal.

I have read somewhere, and I wish I could quote the source, that change occurs when the level of discomfort to stay the same is greater than the level of discomfort to change. As I reflect on the den and furniture and TVs and discomfort, I sense God's hand touching our lives. God is working on my husband and I to change our leisure habits away from movie watching.

God's hand in all this is evident in the relationship of space to spirit. The space where we would normally relax has become uncomfortable. The space where I practice the spiritual disciplines of prayer, study, and reflection, is very comfortable. The desire to be in the living room is greater than the desire to be in the den. The cost of making the den more comfortable is adding to the level of stress, not to mention finding furniture to make it through the door frame. Comfy furniture tends to be well padded and large.

In the living room where I am sitting and writing this morning is the most comfortable of couches. You wonder why it is not in the den? Door frames. The door frame into the long hallway is narrower than the comfy couch, as it is called by my son's friends. They are grieving the loss of this couch. My son wanted the exchange of the comfy couch for my recliners when we moved. Now the recliners would have fit down the hallway, they come apart, but alas they are in Stella and the comfy couch is in the living room here at the parsonage. The living room in the parsonage has become a great space for reading and writing, studying for the next sermon, writing papers for full connection, and planning the next year in the life of a church family. The comfy couch is where it belongs. I am very comfortable hanging out here. Surrounding me are images of my faith journey, books to stimulate my imagination, and the quiet to contemplate God's word.

Returning the broken futon has led me to understand how I do not have to settle for my own brokenness. When I settle into my brokenness, my relationship to God is also broken. God too has a return policy, it does not expire in 90 days. God longs for our relationship to be healed. God calls me to return my brokenness to God, to be reconciled with God. God does not exchange my brokeness but transforms my brokeness into a living testimony of the love God has for the world.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Leading into love

2010-07-29T10:17:00.000-04:00

As I begin this new ministry with new brothers and sisters in Christ, I pause to wonder about leading, about visioning, about the journey towards union with God. If my vision of the New Jerusalem is one of unity of spirit, all united in love of God and love of neighbor, then how do I lead us into a love relationship? I suppose if I had the answer to that I could be publishing books and going on a circuit to tell other leaders the trade secrets I have learned.

I do not believe it is that simple, though. God creates each of us in wonderful and unique ways. Each community of faith has similarities, yet we manifest our love so differently. We grow at different paces within our communities as well as the community as a whole has its own pace, not necessarily in sync with the pace of other communities around it. Then there is the natural process of birth-life-death all earthly creations must experience. So why then do we expect our communities to live forever? The gift of Christ Jesus is the gift of resurrection, our rebirth into new creations. Our communities as well will be rebirthed into new creations, to live they cannot remain the same.

I have been talking all around my question. Teaching love, I must also learn to love as Christ loves us. I believe the first step is to stop judging myself and loving myself. The commandment is to love my neighbor as myself. I have to turn it around sometimes. I need to learn how to love myself as I love my neighbor. It is easier to forgive my neighbor than to forgive myself. It is easier to love my neighbor without judgment than to love myself without being judgmental. As I challenge myself towards unconditional love for neighbor and self, I will lead those I serve into love through the acts of loving. Still not very concrete in how this will manifest itself. I think I will start by just listening, listening with the ears of Jesus. Do you ever wonder what his ears looked like? I guess they look like mine.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Pen and Paper vs Keyboards and Screens

2010-07-28T09:34:00.001-04:00

Here is my dilemma. There was a time I wrote profusely on paper. I shared everything. Then these amazing machines, computers came into my life and the writing switched to keyboards and screens. Then it all stopped. Somehow, neither pen, nor paper, nor keyboard could bring forth any thoughts until...I went on this educational experience, Courage to Serve. During this time we were asked to journal. I was tempted to use the crayons and colored pencils to draw my thoughts and feelings, but a voice in my head said, "write." So I started writing, pen and paper. When I would return from these three day events I had plans to continue the writing...did you catch that I had plans...plans that were not completed...so again I felt lost in the emptiness of words not shared, not spoken, thoughts left incomplete in my head. Until a friend talked to me about blogging. Here I once again have begun to write.

The dilemma is that my creativity seems to crave paper rather than keyboard. Why is this a dilemma? I cannot read my own writing. Penmanship, yes, I was a student when penmanship was graded, penmanship was my only non "A" grade. It kept me from getting straight "A's" and the monetary reward promised for that endeavor. Do I use this craving as an excuse not to write? Do I purchase a tablet computer and let the computer attempt to translate my scrawl? Do I simply become more disciplined and work each morning on my morning pages here at my blog spot?

Discipline has such a bad rap these days. It is seen as a restriction or a sensoring of poor choices, when in reality disciplined lifestyles offer freedom. It is that way with spiritual disciplines as well. When I surrender to my schedule of prayer and daily devotion, I am freed from the emotions that hold my heart and mind captive. I find the practices of the spirit trump the practices of my earthly self. When I commune with God there is Sabbath Rest for my soul. The healing power of the Holy Spirit works within me as I rest with God. When I take time to engage in conversation with my covenant friends of the spirit, I am told the truth in love. This too is healing.

In this new space, new place, I am eager to put in place a more disciplined approach to my spiritual life and a more disciplined approach to my writing. The story I began so long ago needs to be completed. Its voice is calling out. The excuses of pen and paper can no longer hold back the creative energy. God the creator gives all of us energy to create spaces and places where God's love can grow. I am called to tell one story of God's redeeming love. The discipline of keyboard, screen and morning pages after the discipline of prayer. I wonder though is there a discipline of morning coffee?

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Summer Visitors

2010-07-12T09:49:00.000-04:00

This summer Abby has had the chance to have a summer visitor. Kofi has come to stay with us for the week while his owner (now mind you who owns whom may be the question all pet owners have to answer at some point) is vacationing with family. Kofi and Abby spend hours playing with each other's toys. Last night Kofi decided the bear as big as he was would be fun to drag and shake. Not sure who shook the most, bear or dog. Anyway our long hallway has become the drag strip. Each dog nipping at the other to try to take the lead. When they get exhausted they curl up on the furniture or find a cool spot on the floor and stretch out. Depending on which dog's power nap ends first, one or the other has to wake the sleeping dog to begin the play cycle again. They are delighting in each other's presence.

I too had a summer visitor. When she arrived, I got to show off my new home, the church, and all the sights in Kittrell, okay I showed her the dump and the confederate cemetery. I haven't yet learned all the sights worth sharing. We ventured further afar to Kerr Lake and found a great place to launch the canoe. We traveled down a long road to see an old plantation and found instead a housing development with the plantation's name. Continuing on, not to be daunted because she believed that plantation house was there, we found it, on a private road. I did not venture closer because there was a woman walking on the property. We only caught a glimpse of the house through the trees. Our best stop was Supplyline this great market in Henderson that is a combination of farmer's market, gift shop, bulk item groceries.

Abby and I are enjoying summer visits. There is great joy in sharing our home with others. There is always sadness when they leave until we remember that love and friendship is more than physical presence.

I preached Sunday on the Good Samaritan. I was struck this year in my reading of this passage in the fact that the Samaritan and the man had an overnight together. When the Samaritan brought the man to the inn, the scripture goes on to say, the next morning he paid the inn keeper. The next morning, not quite a summer visit, but the Samaritan spent real time with this man. These two people had a space of time to be present to each other in the midst of one person's pain. I cannot help but consider the bond that formed. I also was struck by the fact that in the midst of our pain, we receive healing when we are visited by those who can sit with us in our pain. We receive healing when the hands that touch us and bind our wounds see us as worthy of the sacrifice of time, like a summer visit.

Then I remember the Prodigal Son story with the father so eagerly searching for the return of the son. God would love for us to sacrifice our time and come to him. If I take the time to rest with God, to sit at the feet of Jesus and share my pain, I too will be healed. Jesus, like the Samaritan has paid for that healing already. As a pastor, I visit in the community, I visit in long term care facilities, I visit in hospitals, I visit at funeral homes. I am not the best at getting outside my door to visit, but when I am called, I am there. The lesson for me through my summer visitor, Abby's summer visitor, and the Samaritan's visit with the injured man is that visiting is holy time, sacred to God, sacred for the visitor, sacred for the visited. That perspective may help me get out the door more often. What a joy to experience the presence of the Holy in the lives of those I visit.

I also recognize how necessary it is for me to receive visitors as well. So I thank my summer visitor, and those yet to come for loving me enough to sacrifice your time to visit. Abby thanks Kofi for a great summer visit that isn't over yet. The hallway beckons, the race is on. What joy!

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Coffee Beans

2010-07-08T09:33:00.001-04:00

This morning I am grateful for a husband who drinks bad coffee. You see, we moved and when we moved we couldn't find good coffee beans in the stores we searched, so we bought other beans. I have been drinking weak coffee for about a week or more. My mornings have seemed rather difficult, there was no aroma of deep rich dark coffee to enter my senses and stimulate my imagination. We finally found a place to buy excellent coffee beans, but I had to wait...wait...wait...for us to finish using the weak beans. Why did I have to wait? My heritage. I was born not to waste food of any kind. Over the years that adage "clean your plate" has resulted in poundage I would rather have gone to a composte pile than pile on my hips. So I tortured myself with weak coffee while the premium beans were sitting in their vacuum sealed bag waiting to be released from bondage. This morning my husband finished the last of the weak and filled, did you hear that, filled the coffee machine with the new beans. As the grinder bit into the beans my heart began to skip, then I heard the tapping sound that spoke to me of pressed grounds waiting for water to unleash their potential. My machine did not disappoint, the water began to seep into the beans and drip into the waiting cup below. The golden brown cream on the top of coffee made me weak in the knees. I lifted the cup, I drank. Bliss. Everything in my world righted itself.

I can now think back on this time of waiting, drinking coffee I did not like and reflect on how that is often what happens in my spiritual life when I seek God in "weak" ways. What exactly is a "weak" way? It is offering a cursory good morning prayer, rather than sitting quietly with God, maybe even over that cup of coffee. Savoring the aroma of God's spirit, basking in God's love without any worldly distractions. A weak way is assuming reading my morning devotion equates to a time of spiritual reflection, when reading and then writing on that devotion may deepen in my spirit the point of the writer's reflection. I could even open my Bible and read the referenced scriptures. I think about how I drank the weak coffee because I needed to maintain the appropriate level of caffine in my body or suffer withdrawal, yet there in a sealed bag was that which would bring me joy. Weak spiritual practices are like that for me, they maintain a connection to God so that I do not suffer withdrawal from a relationship that is life giving, yet the joy of a deep abiding relationship is sealed away from me because I choose to deny myself that which would bring me great joy.

This morning I drink deeply from a cup of rich coffee as I drink deeply in the living water of God's spirit. One last note. This coffee I love, well, it is a blend of three regions. It is communal coffee. It isn't a perfect communion, that is only found in my Triune God. I was just struck by how blended together we can become a unique and wonderous creation. We become what we were created to become by the one who desires a deep communal relationship with us. Drink deep.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

New spaces, new places, new faces

2010-06-30T09:27:00.000-04:00

As with all United Methodist itinerant ministers, I have moved. I now have a new space for worship, a new space for study, a new space for Sabbath. As I work on unpacking and fitting myself into these new spaces, I work to create a space that is welcoming and peaceful. I am finding that the urge to place purple everywhere is being supplemented by an urge for reds and oranges. Mind you I did not say the urge to place purple has been replaced. This unpacking is again another time of uncluttering. What one week ago I believed I needed has been discarded because it no longer has a purpose. How often I clutter my shelves, my drawers with the things of this world that I believe will bring me peace or joy only to find they just bring me dust. God's peace and joy come from a life lived in a loving relationship with God and with others. When that peace and joy reside we have no need for all the other stuff. The world would be better served if we did not even consider the purchase of stuff. I am going to begin today by gifting my friends and family differently. I will give to their favorite charities or causes and send a note to them. Hopefully they will not store all those notes...I will ask for the same of my friends to gift me a gift to my favorite causes and charities...then I will try not to store all their notes. In the meantime, I lovingly place the gifts given to me in spaces that will bring others peace and joy from the beauty they create in my new place. My goal in creating a living and working space is always to create one where those who enter feel welcome and loved. My home and office are a place of sanctuary, a place of sabbath for all.

The road to the new spaces and places goes up hills and down, round this corner then that. If you can imagine the Harley and husband traveling these roads, imagine my face on the back. I have yet to take on this new adventure. The roads here remind me of the journey we travel through life. We have ups and downs and often are thrown more than one curve. When we travel through life holding on to God, shifting as God shifts, leaning as God leans, the journey is exciting. Riding on the back of the Harley with my husband always reminds me of my relationship with God. Complete trust that the one I am holding on to will keep me safe from the dangers of the road.

I have new faces to behold the love of God. I would love to create a tapestry of all the faces I have encountered. Each one has shown me God's love. When I pray for family, friends, and new relationships, the faces come to me and bring me joy. These new faces are young, not so young, not so old, and old. I am anticipating the stories and life lessons of new relationships. I cannot wait to learn what God has to teach me through them.

What about Abby? She is very unsettled in her new place. The new spaces have very strange smells that call her to search out what critter is lurking in the bushes or in the woods behind the house. Frogs have become her newest puzzlement. She is currently at rest in the Abby chair that came from our old parsonage, the one she would greet the friends who came to our door. For Abby, any one who comes through our door is a friend. She has so much to teach me about welcoming the stranger. Her trust in the goodness of humanity is extraordinary.

This morning I rest from the unpacking, allowing God to show me the next steps to take.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Old Text, Old Friend

2010-06-03T10:00:00.000-04:00

When I logged onto Facebook today a friend of mine had quoted Lao Tzu. Since I didn't remember reading that particular quote in the Tao Te Ching, I went looking. What joy! Reading a text I hadn't read in years. It was filled with a simplicity of spirit, of love, of joy, of the way. It truly is an old friend. In my own spiritual journey, the Tao brought me to myself and I began to hear God speaking through the words of an ancient Chinese philosopher. Today, I will sit with some Earl Grey tea and sip on the Tao.

Memorial Day Memories

2010-06-01T10:03:00.000-04:00

This weekend I actually took some Sabbath Rest. On Sunday after church, I hopped onto the back of the Harley. Okay, here is hopping as best as could be described. I grabbed the shoulder of my husband, began to swing my right leg over the bike. It wouldn't swing as I imagined it smoothly flying over the back of the bag on the bike landing gracefully on the peg resting to support my weight as I shifted from ground to seat. Instead, it just lifted itself as far as the seat and came back to the ground. After the 3rd attempt, my control was even more impaired by my laughter. To make matters worse, my husband's shoulder was shaking from the laughter. So, I grabbed the fabric of my pant leg, lifted my leg to the bike, as I slid it across the leather, I shifted into a sitting position. We were off to find lunch. We rode through corn fields, tobacco fields, and, wait, on paved roads, crossed bridges with murky water flowing. I enjoyed the wind on my body, until I got my husband's description. He said the wind pushed the flesh on my arms into flat planes. How flattering that sounded. When we arrived at our destination, about one hour later, my biggest concern was to not make a fool of myself attempting a graceful dismounting of the bike. I looked like an old experienced biker the way my right leg swung over the back to land on the pavement beside me. I beamed a smile at my husband. He seemed to be laughing a great deal on this trip. We shared our pizza, mounted the bike and returned home in a much straighter path than our journey to the pizza joint. It felt good to sit behind him, rubbing his back, leaning in to whisper observations in his ear (mind you whispering on a bike is shouting into the ear of the one in front), and knowing that he would do all that he could to keep me safe while we rode. I trust him completely with my life. Riding always reminds me of how I should trust God. If I can trust my husband, an imperfect human with my life, I should be able to do the same with God. Then I realize I do, and in both cases, when I believe I can handle the situation better, better than husband, or better than God, I take back control, or so I believe. What I would like to hold on to is that feeling I get when I let go of control. The feeling of the wind in my face, the freedom to enjoy the world around me, and my arms gently circling the one who is in control. If I can return to that image when I desire to grab back control from God, I may be able to resist the temptation. Riding is good, though, a larger bike may be in our future, less stress on the joints.

My Sabbath Rest continuned into Monday. My husband took me out in a canoe. Once again, a recreational activity where he guides and leads (albeit from the back of the canoe) and I rest and enjoy the sights. We took off on the still waters covered in pollen. The trees dripped Spanish Moss. Their trunks and roots obscured by the dark green water. I kept looking for alligators and a swamp monster or two. As we paddled, well, he paddled us through the maze of trees, the sound of cars on the road disappeared and the loud cries of a cat could be heard. He casually mentioned a home that had peacocks somewhere around this spot. As we took a turn, a house came into view with very large birds, the cat cries were the peacocks calling an alarm. Two males had their tail feathers spread wide open. When we passed the house and came back around, a very large male was sitting high in a swamp tree with its long tail feathers flowing down against the trunk. It was magnificant to behold. What a treat. My husband took me on this particular trip, to share this particular vision of beauty. Again, my thoughts turned towards God. When we surrender to the will of God in our lives, God will take us to places of beauty that are so unexpected. We can see life and hope when we see through God's eyes. I can choose to look into the water for the alligators to strike or look up and see magnificent birds in glorious plummage. What a gift God gave me, the gift of love. The world does not change when I allow love, my vision changes. I see hope. I see joy. I recognized this weekend that without good Sabbath Rest my vision is impaired and dulled.

The day did not end with the canoe trip. We went and found community. Actually we were invited. Meet at 2, eat at 3. Well, we got there around 2 and we began snacking at 3, the feast was completed by 6. We could not stay for what appeared would be a sumptuous dessert because Abby was at home and needed her share of love and attention, but mostly the backyard to take care of her bodily functions. The house we were guests at was located on the sound. The water didn't crash against the shore but it did have the rhythmic beat of the tidal movement. The wind continued to blow, wrecking havoc on the umbrella we needed for shade. The gathering was an eclectic group from various areas of the nation and the world. The food prepared with love and served with joy. Conversations about faith, God, Haiti, poverty, power, corruption moved to conversations around roots and ancestry and knowing ourselves as human beings. Isn't that what being human is about, learning about each other, sharing in community, caring about the people of the world, breaking bread together? Memorial day is when we remember people who have sacrificed their lives for what they believe is good and true about humanity, country, God, the world. I spent the day reconnecting to God's creation while on the water and making new connections with people. Love of God, love of neighbor all experienced in one day. To top it all off, I reflect on the relationship of husband and wife. The canoe trip planned by my husband and I surrendered to the adventure. The gathering was an invitation of my friend and my husband surrendered to the adventure. Mutual surrender.

Final ponderings on Sabbath Rest and Memorial Day Memories. Is it mutual surrender with God? Here is my trail, when God came to earth as a human being, died on the cross and rose again, we say God conquered death. In order to conquer did God not need to surrender first? So is our relationship with God a mutual surrender? Does that make it easier? God surrendered first. I know only that life lived with God has love, has joy and life lived without God may have love but I did not experience joy.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Stuff

2010-05-27T09:55:00.000-04:00

So here it is, rather than sort and pack stuff, I am writing about stuff. I live in one house, own another, and between the two have accumulated a great deal of stuff. Now, I am moving from one house to another house, leaving my owned house far, far away. So, what is necessary is to determine what is essential to have in the new house.

Going through stuff helps me to realize how easy it is to hold on to things that do us no good, just collecting dust. Libraries are meant to hold the books for all of us to read, I do not have to have my own copy. DVD rentals, on-line streaming of shows bring what I want to watch on my screens, I do not have to have my own copy for my own convenience, yet, I buy, I buy - stuff.

Attic stuff. My attic will be fine empty. It does not need to hold stuff simply because it is empty space. It does not stop being an attic if I empty it of the stuff I have had Leo haul into the rafters. I have forgotten what stuff the attic holds. I believe there are books, Christmas stuff, Easter stuff, Halloween stuff, carpets that have been rolled for over 10 years, children's school stuff, maybe even some of Mom's stuff, not to mention pictures in frames, bed frames taken apart. Who knew my attic was so large. Remember now, I have two attics. Stuff.

I joke about my husband and son being flat surface challenged. To be flat surfaced challenged means that you understand flat surfaces as designed specifically to hold stuff and that any part of the surface exposed means you do not have enough stuff on that flat surface. Think about this, are we not flat surfaced challenged on a global level? We continue to try to cover the surface of the earth with stuff. If we learn, if I learn to live more lightly, I can create space around my global footprint, I can expose the surface so that it can be what it was created to be, not just a place to hold my stuff.

I believe my greatest challenge comes in the form of books. I am bookshelf challenged. Bookshelves are for books, not nicknacks, not special gifts, but books. Any empty shelf or empty space on a shelf needs a book. So now I have more books than shelves, which has created another silly practice, storage. My attic would be quite literate if it could read. Instead it stores books and the words remain hidden in books,in boxes, on the attic floor, piled one on top of the other. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Moving is a great opportunity to reflect on what it means to hold on to things lightly. I know how to give away stuff. I am learning how not to accumulate stuff that I will eventually give away.

What may pose a significant problem is getting Abby to decide which of her dog toys is really just stuff. She does not know how to hold her toys lightly. She plays with them until we are tired. Her box of toys will probably be moving intact. The rest of the stuff...we shall see...Will there be new stuff after this move...no doubt...but it will be lighter.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many

Artwork

2010-05-06T10:12:00.000-04:00

I have this friend whom I love very much. She and I became sisters in spirit years ago at Gonzaga University when I was studying for my Masters of Divinity degree. Shannon has traveled the world, and even traveled the world to see me. She has given me this gift of friendship that continues even through long periods of drought. One of the many amazing things about Shannon is her creativity. The artwork I use on this blog to identify me was created by her. Would you believe she used the Microsoft Paint tool? She gifted me with an image of who I am as a woman called by God to preach, teach, preside at the table, and offer to the world the grace and love of Jesus Christ.

You may wonder about the setting, the tree. Shannon lifted out of all I have said and done, my strong belief in the connections of creation in the worship of God. Genesis chapter one is one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. In Romans, even Paul speaks of creation groaning. God's spirit, the Holy Spirit touches all of God's creation. Trees for me hold a great deal of the sacred. They stand through time and witness to us our need to be rooted in the world while reaching for the heavens. Recently I attended Courage to Serve. I knew I would grow in this program when they asked me to go find my tree. The time in community at St. Francis Springs Prayer Center was challenging. The challenge brought forth growth. I noticed that when I intentionally step away from daily routines to work in solitude, in small groups, in large groups, I can hear and see more clearly where God is leading me.

Each time I log on to my blog and see Shannon's painting, I am reconnected to her, to God, to the world, to my call. Thank you Shannon for this gift.

One of Many

Stretched Out

2010-05-05T12:10:00.000-04:00

Abby is stretched out on the floor. She has this amazing way of stretching her whole body out, back paws extended, front paws extended, and body elongated. She stretches her body to its limits and rests into the stretch.

This week I have been stretched. I preached a revival. I prayed a revival. Last night I even led the singing in the revival. Revival style preaching is a stretch for me. I did this without a manuscript, though that isn't a difficult stretch, more like bending to touch my knees. The touch my toes stretch was opening my Bible and preaching from a passage that I had not preselected. My eyes could not find the one I had selected and so I went where the spirit led me, a huge stretch for me. What was evidence for me of the spirit's leading is that I kept reading the scripture until my level of discomfort in the stretch eased off. Have you ever had that experience, not the preaching one per se, but the easing off of discomfort in the stretch. You extend your body to the point of discomfort and hold there until the discomfort, the knot, the pain eases? That was my experience in reading the scripture. How did I know it was time to finish reading and begin the proclamation of what was read? There was no longer any sense of discomfort in reading. I read until the discomfort eased off. Now the time had come to deepen my stretch, to proclaim God's word. It was taking my body and reaching further into the stretch, further than I have ever gone. When I stretch like that, my body immediately reacts. The nerve endings send to my brain information about how stressed the muscles and joints have become over my insistence that they move in a particular manner. That was my experience in proclaiming God's word, all of my brain and logic screaming at me, this is not comfortable. In the midst of the discomfort the words flowed, the scripture passage took on a whole new perspective I had not really seen before. When in my spirit, I felt the words were done and any more would be belaboring the point, I stopped.

So what passage did I preach on? Matthew 9:14-30a. I just opened my Bible to get this passage when I discovered the passage I had intended to share was Matthew 8:23-27, Jesus asleep in the bow. More about why that was significant later.

Anyway, the Matthew 9 passage is about Jesus responding to the disciples of John the Baptist when a leader in the synagogue asks him to come save his daughter and on his way there he encounters the woman "with the issue of blood" (as it is often described). Normally the lectionary text ends there, but I continued on past those two healings to the two blind men. The question he asked them was "Do you believe that I am able to do this?" and their answer was "Yes, Lord." Earlier we had sung a praise chorus with the phrase "Yes, Lord. Yes, Lord. Yes,yes, Lord, amen." Coincidence? No, God!

There were three different groups of people who believed, the leader of the synagogue believed Jesus could bring life to his daughter, the woman "with the issue of blood" (as she is often described)believed a touch of his cloak would heal her, and the two blind men believed his touch would bring them sight. Each stretched beyond what others considered possible to believe the impossible, the improbable. Life was restored, health was restored, vision was restored because they believed Jesus was able to restore vision, restore health, and restore life.

Believing is like stretching. Without stretching my body becomes limited in its ability to function. I become constricted by the lack of elasticity in my muscles. When I choose not to believe that God is able to heal the places in my life that need healing, I become constricted by my own unbelief.

So I was stretched and grew over this revival in ways that were very unexpected. Oh, that scripture about the boat and Jesus sleeping. I shared it the final night of revival. It was in a time of sharing favorite stories. It was the one I shared, not remembering until today, it was the one I thought I would share on Monday night. It was my lesson that I too need to be still when I am being stretched, so that the stretch can be healing. I am not to avoid the stretch or shrink from those places of discomfort. I am not to push through the discomfort, but rest in that discomfort until it is right to push through. God reminded me, that my growth in faith will be constricted if I do not stretch through my comfort zone and go into the places that cause me discomfort. God will be there in the power of the stretch to bring growth and healing. My task is to be still, to rest in the discomfort and allow God to bring forth the transformation.

If I am still, my body will tell me when to go further into the stretch and it will also tell me when to return to that place of rest. Muscles grow when we rest from the workout, from the stretch. First the stretch, then the rest, then the growth. Prayer provides us opportunties to rest in God and experience growth.

Today is a day of rest.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow the stretch, Allow God,
One of Many

Revival Preacher

2010-05-03T09:56:00.000-04:00

This is the second day of Revival at Dover in North Carolina. I am thinking that it is a wonder that in the midst of drained resources, I forget that I have an unlimited resource in the love of God. I find myself now the "Revival Preacher," which is so out of my comfort zone. Last night I chose to do what is within my comfort zone and offered a guided meditation during prayer to bring those in revival to a place where they could be refreshed, an Oasis. The method of prayer was so out of their comfort zone.

Now tonight we have guest musicians, Simply Clay. Tonight's music is leading us toward revelation. HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM! What scripture to use. Will I step even further out of my comfort zone and preach from Revelation? What a puzzlement.

Last night I watched AVATAR. Excellent movie for entering into the question of drained resources and our human survival responses. Would be good illustration material after the desert of our sin. The Oasis of God looking rather lush and green. Then there was the community piece. We do not have pony tails that allow us to tap into the source of life and instantly connect us to one another. We have prayer. How then in prayer can we achieve this connection that revives? Is it in silence that the connection is felt? Does the physical touch bring the connection closer? What about words? How does music connect us?

If I use the epic battles in Revelation, how will that bring revival?

I am left with more questions than answers. Abby? She is just sleeping - resting in God, reviving her energy for the next cat chase.

Allow Joy, Allow Love, Allow God,
One of Many

Irises

2010-04-26T14:39:00.000-04:00

Spring in Dover always means the irises are in bloom. As I walk Abby through the streets, I find these odd places that shine forth with exotic hope. The irises sometimes appear in empty lots that have me wondering, "Who lived here?" "What was the house like?" "What happened?" The beauty of these blossoms defying the bleakness of the lot draws me in for a closer look. These are courageous flowers offering signs of life where death attempts to reign. As I continue walking I come across irises in well kept gardens. These are tended and thinned and reach toward the sky on firm stems. I am reminded that hope and love grow in places of despair and poverty as well as places of joy and security. I am also reminded that life giving love will always find a way.

The iris captured here lives behind the United Methodist Church at Dover. The back line of the property is a testament to the lives of the faith filled families of Dover. Each group of blossoms planted by women of the church from their own homes gardens. As the plants continue to grow along the property line and each new plant springs from the old, connected yet distinct, I am reminded that our lives in faith are similar. We, the body of Christ, continue to spring forth in new and distinct blossoms while receiving our nourishment from our connection to our history. There are always people to tell us the old, old stories, who remember the names, and inspire us to share those stories with others.

Irises love to grow in clusters and seem to crowd one another for the same space, as if they just cannot get close enough. What a lesson for me about living in community. We can grow into beautiful bouquets when we grow in clusters. Each bloom offering a unique expression of beauty to the arrangement. What would it feel like to be comfortable being so close to others who are seeking the same loving God I am seeking that our roots appear to be the same root? Would our unity in God bring me peace? Would I allow the love of God to overcome my anxiety? Would I allow joy?

One of Many

Cold Starts

2010-04-13T08:33:00.000-04:00

Having grown up in New England, mornings were always difficult in the winter because the ice on the windshield prevented me from taking off in my car with a cold start. The car needed to warm up and the ice needed to melt. This meant that I could not get up and out of bed just before I needed to leave for school or work. I had to wake much earlier to give the car time to warm up. Mind you, I still worked hard at making this time as short as possible so that I could sleep to the very last minute.

I realize that the life of my car is extended when I take the time to warm it up even in the summer. Yet, I continued to abuse my car by sticking the key in the ignition, turning the engine over and throwing it in gear to start the day. Only when forced by the weather, did I take the time to allow my car to warm up.

I have approached my days much the same, beginning each one with a cold start. I am not a woman who needs to wake up early to fix her hair, make up her face, or spend endless hours in the bath. My morning routine normally means that when my feet hit the floor I have about 15 minutes before my day begins, a very cold start, with just enough time to dress and pour coffee.

A cold starts means that I do not take time to warm my heart, or rest in God before I move into the busy-ness of my day. I am learning the art of warming up. One aid to this new practice is Abby. As we rise in the morning, she and I move to the recliner and she proceeds to lie down with her head across my feet. I, in turn, feel guilty to disturb her rest to even get up for my coffee. I have learned to rest in these moments. At first it was the morning news, then lately I have begun actually reading some of the devotionals I have either bought or been given. Prayer has become part of this warming up to my day. Some days I even get out my Bible study material, though Abby finds all those books rather intrusive. When the laptop joins us, I get the "look." She rolls back her body and angles her head to lay across the keyboard. Work is not allowed during morning warm ups. She would prefer that I simply chat with God.

The weight of Abby's head holds me down. She doesn't even budge when I rock the recliner to try to move to get coffee. In the end, I have surrendered to my morning warm ups. The crazy thing about morning warm ups with Abby is that they last about 30 minutes. She gets up and moves either to her plush purple chair that sits between the two recliners, or the floor. I am released and able to get my morning coffee. The other phenomena in this morning warm up is that I am rising earlier than ever before. No matter what the day is, or when I am expected to be someplace, I wake up with enough time for morning warm ups.

Days that are cold starts never quite go the same anymore. My day is out of sync and I feel tired and irritable. Cold start days are rare. Even when I am out of town without Abby to rest on my legs, I get up in time to warm up.

Warming up my life is my morning Sabbath Rest. Emails are not checked, phones are not answered, work is not done. Instead I take the morning to warm my soul. I am grateful for Abby's insistence that I start each day with a warm up. I have found that I need community to help me with my healthy habits. I need friends to walk with, swim with, laugh with and to remind me to take time out of my day to rest with God.

When I have community, two legged or four legged to which I am accountable about my time of Sabbath Rest, I am more intentional in taking that time. Just like my car, now that I enter my days warmed up with God, I will run smoother and handle the bumps and curves and obstacles along the way with the grace given to me by God.

All warmed up,
One of Many

Resting in the Recliner

2010-04-09T11:35:00.000-04:00

It's Friday, my Sabbath Rest day. The wind is blowing, the air is crisp and cool. I have my feet up, laptop snuggling, resting on my knees as I consider resting. It seems a bit odd to be at rest when there is so much still to be accomplished this day.

I look over at Abby, at rest in Leo's recliner and I realize dogs understand Sabbath so much better than humans. Abby's head is against the overstuffed arm of the recliner and her body is curled. I moved. She opened her eyes, stretched, sighed, and returned to her nap. Abby lives completely in each moment. She has an uninhibited joy. Abby's joy knows no bounds when anyone comes to the door, stranger or friend. She is excited and eager to greet. Her whole body shakes with her enthusiasm as she lifts her front paws in the air. She is reaching out to the newcomer with every fiber of her being. She jumps from chair to floor to chair trying to get access to the face of the one who has come into her home. She desires them to know how important they are to her. She shakes with her eagerness to touch them and be touched by them.

Abby's greetings turns me toward God. I am reminded of the joy the prodigal father expresses when his lost son returns. God is joy filled as well when I choose to rest in God, to return to God's presence, or in Abby's terms, come for a visit. You see I don't really have to come for a visit, God is with me always. I just get busy and forget to rest in God. Sabbath is important to me and to God. I too experience joy in those moments of resting in God's presence.

Just recently I started back swimming. Well, started back floating. I find when I float in the water, I truly enjoy a sabbath rest. As the water holds my body, God holds my spirit. The sounds of the world disappear, my focus shifts from the roof of the pool house to the heavens. Time stops. When I have to move my arms to adjust my body in the water, I am reminded that though I am in communion with God, I am still me, separate and human. Those moments startle me back into the sounds of the pool house. I distinctly hear the Swim Coach encouraging his students, the children laughing, and the roar of the vents. Life returns yet the peace remains, the joy resounds.

Then it happens...I begin to think again. My mind whirls with thoughts of Sunday's sermons, bills to pay, laundry to do, dinner to create, and you would think that the joy or the peace would go away. They don't. Joy is always present in each breath because joy is not a surface emotion but a deep resounding peace in the truth that God is with me always.

Today though, I realize that without continually resting in God, the joy and peace that are so much a part of me are lost in the cacophony of the world. Sabbath rest is important for my soul. It is the living water in which I float and regain myself. I am not truly myself unless I am at rest in God.

On this gray Spring morning with the daffodils fading, the tulips blooming, and the irises emerging, I am resting.

Allow joy, allow love, allow God,
One of Many