Pillow Case Parade

Can't help it! It's Halloween and my mind is back to the days of the old jacket of my dad's, the eyebrow pencil of my mother's for a beard and the pillowcase over my shoulder. Armed with the same costume I wore every year as long as I can remember, I went with a pack of friends to every neighbor's house we could possibly get to. We were not technologically advanced, but we had reconnaissance teams and we got word about who had good candy, who's streets were poor providers and woe unto the one neighbor in a great section who was a nonparticipant. You could get by if no one was playing on your street, but if you were the one hold out, you were going down.

We walked until we could either not walk further or our bags were so heavy we couldn't carry them anymore. We wasted little time in small talk, we stuck to the script. 'Trick or Treat' and then 'Thank You' were required and all we gave willingly. I simply hated the houses of neighbors I hadn't seen since the previous Halloween who wanted to discuss with me how much I had grown. I can remember debating skipping those houses but they usually gave away such good candy we were hooked. My cheeks were pinched, I had to report on what grade I was in and I had to hear about who it was they thought I looked like. They asked about my stupid sister and brothers. What a nightmare. Still the candy was good and I must have thought it was worth the price.

Once we got home, we dumped our candy out of the bags onto the floor in very well defined piles. We were not the slightest bit interested in community sharing and all for all. I then sorted my candy by kinds, counted it and began an inventory. This is the proper way to inspect and store Halloween plunder. My brother was not from this school. He dumped his and dug through instantly to grab and devour all the candy he liked best. He was very foolish because it allowed for the parental pilfering that always happens when kids go to school. Not so with my inventory. Though not even that system was foolproof. I can remember coming home to find my numbers had been changed.

We then began the negotiation process. This is where you take the candy you like least and offer it in exchange with your sibling for candy you like more. I discovered that you got little return on a Clark bar because everyone had 100, but Mallow Cups were worth a lot, so few people gave them out. Unfortunately, I liked Mallow Cups so parting with them was difficult. Today we would call this learning to prioritize and barter. I don't remember any adult checking my candy, though they may have done so. Nor do I remember one of them telling me that eating all that would make me hyper, though no doubt it did. I do remember being told that I had to stop eating candy, brush my teeth and go to bed. And I did more than half of that so I think we could consider me quasi obedient.

I remember that sad sort of feeling when you were in the house for good on Halloween night. A let down knowing that it would be another whole year before I got to do it again. The grief was diffused over several days as the candy diminished and the memory slowly faded. My friend Lynn horded her candy. She always wanted to make it last until the next Halloween so it would never really be over. I think she might have made it, if I hadn't kept finding her stash. Hey, no inventory control and this is what happens.

I know we are concerned about dark and ugly things at Halloween. We don't want to glorify evil and we don't want to scare children, but gosh they are great memories. Why do we want to give up stuff that made us that happy? I remember a long time ago in early contemporary music Larry Norman asking in the lyrics of one of his songs, 'Why should the devil have all the good music'. Lots of people got up in arms about it then, and probably still do now,but the point was why abdicate something just because there are folks who pervert it? In fact isn't it true that the candy tradition grew out of taking something not so good and making it so? What's so bad about that???

Maybe I just want my pillow case, my dad's old jacket and my mothers eyebrow pencil back. Or maybe I just like the idea of giving those memories to my children. Or maybe I just feel the need to get some Mallow bars and start an inventory. See you at the day after candy sales.

Borrowing

You know what we are finally starting to get good at? We are getting better about borrowing ideas and concepts from each other. I have noticed that a good idea form one place is beginning to turn up in others and how smart that is! I have been borrowing freely for years. I guess it's not really borrowing when you take something and don't plan on returning it. I guess that's more like stealing, but I digress.

I have attended a leadership seminar at Church of the Resurrection in Kansas City, KS for the last two year. It is very well done and I learn so much. The biggest thing I learned though is how to be generous. They do such a good job of welcoming guests from all over the country. They do great workshops and great worship, they also share all their ideas, copies of their materials and even staff people to tell you how they run their 15,000 member church. We have taken many of their concepts and adapted them to work in our much smaller church. Other churches are taking them from us and doing the same thing. We are now part of the chain the links us all together.

This year the COR folks told us to take home every idea, tweak it and come back with how we made it better. I thought that is such a good model. Start with a problem or an opportunity, develop a way of dealing with it effectively, share the solution, let others adjust and adapt and have them come back with improvements. If that's possible, the Body of Christ ought to make the a priority.

One funny borrowing story: I was in Kansas City last fall with my pastor. We have been hosting trunk or treating at our fall festival for the last couple of years. We drove past a church in Kansas City with a sign up for their trunk or treat night. My pastor looks at me in shock and says, 'someone took our idea for trunk or treating'. I had to stop giggling long enough to say, we stole it from someone else too! It would have been fun to take credit for that idea, but I think most good ideas were borrowed so many times, taking credit for the origins is pretty difficult.

I hope we get better at borrowing and giving away. I think it helps us focus on what really matter; reaching out and sharing God more effectively. Ministering to people by inviting and including is vital to developing disciples for Jesus Christ, and ways to do that well ought to be offered to all. We should be taking successful churches up on their offer, lets borrow those ideas and put them to work for us.

This is networking at it's finest.

Dreaming Big

Remember talking about what we were going to be when we grew up? We were all going to be doctors and lawyers and Indian Chiefs. We were going to save the world or the whales or some other endangered species. We were going to stop pollution and 'make the world a better place, just you and me'. Do you remember that?

I wonder sometimes how many of us ended up as doctors and lawyers and Indian chiefs. Some of us did, of course. I don't think I have ever saved a whale, but I do brake for dogs and cats and small animals when they cross the road in front of me. Does this count? I am not really sure you can say I have made the world a better place, though I have faithfully thrown trash in the trash can and always return my cart to the cart corral at Walmart.

Can't really explain the value in dreams only we all have them, discuss them, encourage each other in them. I can remember as I sit here now the dreams my brother and I discussed on rainy afternoons when we were stuck in the house in each others company all afternoon. Of course, those were also the days when the bunk beds he and our older brother slept on were some form of flying machine that took us to various places in the world. We were big dreamers, and we saw the world from his bunk bed.

We grew up, we travel by car and plane these days, but I am still dreaming. I don't know what I want to be when I grew up yet, but I do know that in my dreams the focus has changed. I now fantasize about houses that stay cleaned, gorgeous clothing always in my size and on sale, killer shoes that look awesome, feel great and are buy one and get one free. My children, who I used to dream would love God,stay clean, have excellent manners, a good work ethic and inspire respect and love in those around them, I am now dreaming will love God and be so financially sound they wish to support me.

I think dreams are good. I think living in a dream world is not so good. But I think when we can take a dream and move it into the real world, that is best. When we can dream of ways to communicate better, worship better, share our faith better, meet the needs of people God brings into our lives better, this is surely when we are at our best. When we use God given imagination and creativity to take a dream and make it a reality, gosh does it get better than that?!

So I am dreaming. I am dreaming of a day when the church has grown to perhaps double it's size, where we are intentionally developing disciples for Jesus Christ, where church is not a weekly check off the list, but a state of being. I am dreaming of a day when we see the fruit of faithful prayer in our church, in our community and in the wider circles of the world around us. I am dreaming of the day when our church is synonymous with missions, with outreach, with study and with excellence, but mostly where the love of God is expressed in ways that are felt, understood and absorbed.

Until that becomes a reality I am just praying for it to happen, working in daily expectation and looking for the shoe bargains. Growing the kingdom is my priority, looking good in the process is nice too.

When it rains....

It's raining in Kentucky. This is a good thing, we have been particularly dry and we need the rain, that's for sure. It's hard to remember how good a thing it is when you are being rained on and you spend the entire day being sleepy. And it rained on a Monday, which I think should be against the law. Mondays are hard enough for me without the added bonus of grey skies and rain.

I turned on the news long enough this morning to see that California is ready for some rain too with all those wild fires burning and so many people out of their homes. It is a very sad and frightening situation. So many people must be sleeping tonight wondering if after a couple of days when the fires are gone they will have homes standing. A little rain would be a blessing for them too, I know.

I did notice as I watched some news footage that we have learned some lessons from previous disasters. I saw pictures of folks sleeping in the Charger's stadium and remember that from Hurricane Katrina. I know from talking to local mission folks that we learned a lot from those days and weeks following the hurricane about how to respond to crisis, how to mobilize help effectively, how to assess the situation and react better. California is benefiting from those lessons. They do not prevent disasters but they do help responders do so more effectively. I will also confess, I am not sure if I was sleeping on a mattress on the steps of a stadium I would be feeling grateful. I somehow doubt it very much.

We have been facing a different kind of crisis closer to home. In the past week, we have had a couple of headline making arrests of people in prominent positions. Their arrests have had ripples across the community for various reasons. The fires that have been roaring here are the waves of discussion and speculation on the innocence or guilt of the people involved, and the impact on their family and friends. We all know we have issues in our own life we would prefer not hit the headlines, but somehow we are peaceful about discussing someones misfortunes over coffee. I feel very parched by all the heat and smoke generated and could use some grace to rain down on me and on these situations. I do not mean that I think that people who have been guilty of committing a crime should not be arrested and tried and even serve their time. I mean I wish we could feel compassion for their families, and for them for having made such poor choices and certainly that we might pray for redemption to come swiftly.

Will we learn from this crisis to prepare for others, sure. We will be smarter about these particular topics and we are learning how to respond effectively and rapidly to the people who are hurting. I hope we will let our hearts be touched and we will ask ourselves some tough questions. Are we truly all sinners saved by grace or are some of us above sin? Are there degrees of sin based on our understanding of what makes sin worse? Are we enjoying the misfortunes of others to feel better about ourselves? Can we love as God loves, as Jesus loved us, unconditionally? Is a public sin and disgrace enough of a reason to reject those who hurt us? And if we are to be forgiven as we forgive, how does that change the way we respond?

Let grace fall like rain so that we might embrace the complete unconditional love that God has for us. Out of that love, live as those who have nothing to prove and all of our Father's kingdom to gain, not as servants but as sons and daughters, full heirs and entitled to claim the high King as our Abba.

All of the sudden, the rain doesn't sound bad at all.

Since I am on a Rant

I got an email today filled with lots of church humor and this joke in particular spoke to me:
Show and Tell
A kindergarten teacher gave her class a "show and tell" assignment. Each
student was instructed to bring in an object to share with the class
that represented their religion.
The first student got up in front of the class and said, "My name is Benjamin and I am Jewish and this is a Star of David."
The second student got up in front of the class and said, "My name is Mary. I'm a Catholic and this is a Rosary."
The third student got in up front of the class and said, "My name is Tommy. I am Methodist, and this is a casserole."

If you read the previous blog, all about change in the church, you will see why I found this joke funny. This used to be truly the symbol for a good Methodist. I know, I can hear you all clamoring now, every denomination brings casseroles to pot luck suppers. I am not disputing this but for the last twelve years I have been a Methodist and I can tell you that we were very big into casseroles. We took them to everything. Even things we didn't stay for we delivered casseroles of some kind of another. This too is changing and the casserole bringing brigade has diminished over the years. Even our seniors, those who were the real cooks of the church are no longer interested in bringing casseroles as they once did. We just had a senior planning meeting and several of them piped up and said, we are tired of bringing food to lunches. Can't we just chip in?! Well, of course they can! We thought they didn't want to!!!

I have been thinking about this food shift and I believe we aren't cooking so much anymore. I think we have discovered it is much easier to pick it up or eat it somewhere else than it is the buy it, haul it home, cook it up and serve it to people who wrinkle their noses and say, what is this? I had a meeting this afternoon with a group of ladies. We had pizza (I did bake it but it was definitely already assembled when I took it out of the box) and brownies (okay, all I did with those was cut them) and there was some left over. I was sending left overs home when one of the ladies said she didn't need any, she was actually going to cook tonight. Another lady turned to her and said, do you have company in from out of town? All of us thought that was a natural question. Turns out no, all of her family just happened to be home for the day. Ah, we all said, that never happens at our house.

And it doesn't. We are hardly ever all home at my house together any more. This has significantly cut back in the number of arguments, except for those terse notes left on the refrigerator. We communicate all day long of course. The cell phones in my family stay lit up all the time, tracking each other's progress through the day, but visual contact is definitely diminishing. We try very hard to remind each other of who is supposed to be where when, especially who is suppose to be in charge of Sam. The school wishes we could work this particular problem out better as either all of us show up to pick up Sam or no one does. I am not alone in this mess as several of my friends have gone home from church leaving one of their children behind. In all cases one parent thought the other had the child. This is becoming less of a problem, not because they are paying more attention, but because the kids are now old enough to walk home.

A meal is prepared often at dinner time and who ever is here eats it and the rest eat it when they get in. We often eat standing over the bar in the kitchen, having a 'pay attention to tomorrow's schedule' meeting. This is also where we ask probing questions about the location of our favorite jeans, missing keys and the current check book balance. Who on earth has time to make a casserole anyway?

Instead, our people would much rather come to the church, throw in a few dollars and have food waiting for them. Often the food is just as good as we make at home and the aggravation is greatly reduced. This goes for our seniors who are retired as well. We live entirely differently than we once did, as we adapt our worship we also have to adapt our programming.

I wonder what our new symbol will be. Maybe a drive thru carton or a frozen pizza box. Whatever it is, I bet it will be edible.

Fuzzy Dice

Do you know about the Bunco phenomenon? At least in my neck of the woods, Bunco is the name of the game. Groups of women armed with dice gather together chip in money to furnish prizes and roll their way to Buncos. There are rules and rounds but mostly it's just rolling dice and conversation.

We have a monthly girls night out and for the second time this year, we gathered to play Bunco. We skip the money part, ask the ladies to bring finger foods and get goofy prizes. I almost came home with fuzzy dice, but a little girl who had been in the nursery wanted them and I couldn't in good conscience take them home. It was a great deal of fun and the laughter and silliness combined with the competitive spirit lead to a delightful time. We all won some, lost some and ended up with stuff to take home. Hard to beat that with a stick.

Its an unusual activity for the church in some ways. I know the Catholics have been big into bingo, but it's not really a typical church function to play Bunco, rolling dice in the church is surely a little strange. Lots of things in the church these days seem a little strange. I am aware of some theological discussion groups taking place in area bars called Theology on Tap or Pub Theology. There is a fairly new worship service called "U2charist" which is a communion service set to the music of U2. It sounds weird to me to be honest, but I was set straight by several clerical types who tell me it is not that much of a stretch when you consider the music. We now have contemporary worship, emerging worship, traditional worship, blended worship and the cartoons about worships with a sports emphasis, ecological emphasis, everyone put your right foot in emphasis aren't really that far off. My dad used to call this the church of what's happening now. I didn't take that to be a positive comment.

But is the change a good thing or not? In reality, it matters little and the effort we put into discussing it's value could be spent adjusting and evaluating what seems to be effective. That the church seems to be adapting and being intentional in trying to reach out to the non and nominally churched community is a very healthy and hopeful sign for it's future. If it can do so and keeps it's feet well grounded in the Scripture and in the disciplines and traditions of the faith the change seems both necessary and life producing. To achieve growth will take reaching the people around us in ways that appeal to them, that create an interest in knowing more. If however, in trying to adjust to a changing world, we sacrifice those principals that are essential to the faith we will find we cannot keep those we reach for we will have nothing to offer.

Change in the church isn't new, you know. It has been changing ever since there was one. Those fans of organs and traditional worship will be astonished to learn there was a time before them, and before that time too. There were liturgical dancers on the banks of the Red Sea and the early church in the Apostle's days was definitely adapting to the new order and change in numbers and direction and focus. And those who are so excited about contemporary and emerging worship will be distressed to know that in ten or twenty years what is considered those things may look nothing at all like what seems innovative today. If we are to effectively reach our world we have to understand it's language and it's needs and adjust our outreach to speak what we know to be truth in ways that are easily understood and meaningful.

Moving forward by taking what are the elements of faith seems not only practical but wise. Holding so tightly to tradition so we lose connection or throwing it away so we become another club are both dead ends. Can we make the future of the Body of Christ matter more to us than personal preference? Oh my Father, make it so.

Great Reading

Have you read Junie B Jones? If you have not, you must go out right this minute and read Junie B Jones goes to Hawaii. I have been reading it with Sam and I am telling you, we howled out loud together. The story itself is very amusing, but it is written in such a way that we both got so tickled in places we had to stop and recover before we could go on. In several of the places Sam had to re-read a sentence two or three times before he was over it and ready to move on. It is cleverly written and contains enough absurdity to amuse without being irritating. Excellent to read to with a nine year old.


It made me think about how seldom you find an excellent book to read. The one that you laugh over or cry over or finish with that wonderful satisfaction of an excellent ending. It is when you stumble upon such a find you realize how many books you have read that are less than excellent. They are acceptable, sometimes even good but I don't really see them as lacking until I read one that is perfectly delightful and immensely satisfying. Then in comparison they fall short.

Comparisons work that way, have you noticed? They can work for you, or against you. They can make you feel satisfied and perhaps a little superior and they can make you feel inadequate and inferior. So, we tend to avoid comparisons, we are encouraged to avoid comparisons. We should just do the best we can do and not try to be as good as Johnny or Sally. That is a solution of course. I just think it's not a good solution. I think it allows us to set no benchmark except our own satisfaction level. For some that level is incredibly high and for others it is unreasonably low. Over achievers and under achievers alike need a benchmark that is helpful in creating expectations that are reasonable and perhaps slightly ambitious without creating frustration and pressure. We are all limited in some way by ability and nature and talents and time. We need to acknowledge that and adjust for that, but not use that as an excuse to justify either extreme.

So what do we do with that? How can we use comparison in a healthier way so that it becomes a motivation and direction to help us move towards our own personal excellence? I really think it is much easier when we are secure in our relationship with God and our confidence that our value and worth is secure in His love for us. The more I define myself as a child of God, loved and accepted in all my brokenness, the more capable I am of comparing myself without going to either extreme. I do not do this with excellence always. When I do though, I often pick up ideas and concepts that help me move towards excellence. I find myself less threatened by comparison and more eager to figure out how I can do what I do better.

I can and do read lots of books. I find deeper satisfaction in reading those written with excellence. I want even more to live a life of deeper satisfaction, confident in the unconditional love of Father, expressed through the sacrifice of the Son and confirmed in the presence of the Spirit. This is excellence at it's best and for that there is no comparison.

Fall Cleaning

I am in the throws of a major clean sweep. I failed to identify in past years that this is a fairly seasonal thing for me. Regardless of the trigger, several times a year I am struck the the urge to purge and I go after my house with renewed fervor and determination to straighten, tidy, dust, eliminate, organize, separate and toss. It is a very bad time to sit still in my house. One would find ones self in the dumpster if one were not exceedingly careful. Several family members have confessed fear this will happen anyway.

I have been working for several days now sorting and straightening and opening cabinets and tossing unnecessary accumulation. Some people call this their clothing, but if you needed it, I think you should be wearing it. I love the way the place looks and feels when you are finished. It's just delightful and smells so good. It makes you awfully tired and sore and slightly grumpy while cleaning, I think. However, it is very worth it when you stand back and marvel at how good the place can look with proper attention.

My friend Jeanie lives like this. She is always organizing and straightening and cleaning and dusting. She keeps things straight all the time, she probably has never had the urge to purge. She is a continual purger. I admire that quality. I need things to be clean myself, but I can, if not watched very closely, become a piler. Yes, I know, this is a very public forum for such a personal confession, but it's true. If I get busy running the world, which you know takes up most of my time, I often lay things I need to do together in a nice neat pile and put them aside until after the crisis with the world has resolved. Then, because of the reproductive nature of items piled together, my pile grows. Other people, mistaking my neat organized pile for a generic, run of the mill pile, add their things to the mix. There is nothing more fatiguing in the world than pile separation. So I put off dealing with it until enough people have added things to the pile that I can do nothing else but wait until a week or two has passed, figure we didn't really need anything in that pile anyway and throw it away. (Sorry to all you folks still waiting for an answer to a letter or a bill to be paid.)

I have sadly noticed that I have this tendency to do the same thing spiritually. I tend to make a pile of books I will one day read, journals I will one day write in, prayers I will pray, conversations I will have, worship I will investigate, papers I will write. People tend to add a few things to my pile, books they would like me to read, people I should pray for and so on. And so, you know what I do. I don't throw the stack away but I move it to the bookshelf in the basement in the back of the office supply closet for a rainy day. Should we ever have a monsoon, I will find plenty to do while we are drying out.

So, I am trying hard to adopt my friend Jeanie's philosophy. Don't set it down, take care of it now. Don't pile it, file it. Do today's stuff today and if I can't I have probably put too much stuff in today again. When I have let things get away from me, I need to dig back out, one section at a time. Here I am back to eating the elephant, one bite at a time. Have you noticed how big elephants are, by the way???

My friend Nancy stopped by yesterday. Told me she had spent all morning at a de-cluttering class. I asked her to tell me what she learned. She said it was really easy, just quit shopping. Please. Why do they bother to teach such heresy?

Say What?!

The nine year old is cracking me up. It's often intentional, he has a great sense of humor. At times though it isn't what he says that is so funny, it's that he is the one saying it.

This morning is a prime example. He was off to spend the day with his big brother. He came into my office, bright eyed and bushy tailed, dressed to go in a tee shirt and shorts. I asked him to go check the weather channel, since I thought the temperature might have dropped after the storm moved through yesterday. He came back, stood at my elbow and said, "Mom, it went from hot to not". Now I know this is exactly what the weather channel must have said but from my nine year old it was hysterical. Perhaps it's that face which is gently sprinkled with freckles and a darling grin, but somehow the words do not fit the face. And the context is absurd.

He certainly says nine year old things, like "You're not the boss of me" and "I'm too tired". He also says things like "I cannot wear that shirt to school, it is inappropriate." and, "I can't believe how slow these people are. I would never refer them to my friends."

He is a strange mix of nine year old boy and 40 year old man. His vocabulary peppered with words he has picked up from books, television, conversations he has heard and he uses them correctly. It's just so funny to hear them coming out of that little boy mouth.

Jesus invites us to this kind of absurdity when he tells us we need to have the faith of a child. The invitation seems to me to be the reverse of Sam. Instead of grown up things coming out of a child's mouth, it may be time for us grown ups to talk more like children. Instead of talking so much about how much we know and how much control we have of our lives, maybe we ought to be talking more about how dependent we are on grace and God's guidance. It could be time to find joy in the simple things around us like the laughter of a nine year old, or a star lit night or maybe the brilliant colors the setting sun spread across the sky instead of the things we accumulate, the exotic destinations we can vacation, the power and prestige we value.

Sam responded to the question, "do you want your glasses" by saying,"Mom, you know I function better with my glasses." Sam is right, he certainly sees better. I wonder if we wouldn't function better with our vision corrected. Just a thought.

Starry, starry night

I have driven home the last two nights under the most glorious starry skies. I have stared in awe and wonder at the vast array of stars that look like thousands of twinkling Christmas lights on a deep black velvety field. I have discovered that opening the sun roof, throwing my head back and looking at the stars is very good stuff. I have also discovered it is best to do this when I am at a full stop. You can't see as well when you are driving this way.

It makes me think of the planetarium. I always loved the planetarium, loved being in that huge dome and watching as they made the stars and planets move to reflect various seasons in the sky. I don't really know why tax dollars were spent to do this, but I actually had a planetarium in my high school. I got to go there all through my schooling years on field trips, and then of course for several classes in high school. The class I enjoyed most in the planetarium was psychology. We did several things there, but my favorite was sitting in the dark with a piece of paper and a bright light on the domed ceiling. Our job was to follow the light by tracing its journey over the sky. I tell you it was a chore, that little dot wandered all over my paper. Then after about 10 minutes the lights came up and we were told that the dot never moved. The more motion you saw the better your imagination was. I must have tons of imagination. I will admit after all these years, I still think they were lying. I think that light moved all over the place.

I love lots of things about being in the country these days, but certainly deep dark nights that make the stars dazzle is one of them. All those years living in the city with all it's light made it very difficult to star gaze. Now I can see them beautifully and I can even recognize some of the constellations. I can almost always get the Big and Little Dipper and I have had Orion pointed out to me. I know the brighter stars are probably planets, but it makes little difference to me. A light is a light and as I intend to star gaze from earth, I don't suppose it will change the course of history if I fail to identify them correctly.

Mostly when I gaze into the starry night, I am reminded of God and Abraham. What must it have been to stand in God's present and be told they represented the number of offspring that were the future for a man who thought he had none. Since we stand on this side of the conversation, we have seen that promise fulfilled for Abraham. We know how that part of the story went, but Abraham could not. In fact, I wonder how many nights Abraham spent star gazing, wondering how to believe what God had promised would come to pass. Were the stars joyful gifts to Abraham representing God's promise, or haunting reminders of the wish of his heart and the seemingly lack of response.

I am waiting for some promises to be fulfilled myself. And like Abraham I believe God is more than capable and good to his word. Still, at times, I think he moves very slowly and I cannot see the promise being fulfilled. Abraham is counted as faithful because he died in expectation of receiving the promise. The number of his offspring at his death were not impressive enough to number the stars in the sky. We know they do today.

I wonder if the vastness of the sky and the infinite number of stars isn't a great way to begin to understand time in God's perspective. His time is so broad that he doesn't need to fulfill his promises to us in our life time. Tonight as I look up once more I will remember this, and enjoy the display knowing that, as long as I believe, the timing isn't important. I hope like Abraham I receive a little of the promise to celebrate now, even if I have to wait for the completion.

Starry Starry Night light the beacons of hope, inspire the courage to continue and nurture the wonder and awe as we celebrate a God who is far greater than our minds can dream or imagine. Even for someone who followed a non moving point all over her paper. Dream on my friends, the sky is the limit.

Introspection

I was back at Taize Worship. I almost didn't go, I was having one of those days. I had two different commitments at the same time, to go to Taize would have meant driving thirty minutes, and I was feeling very tired of people. I don't really know exactly why it was I went, but I did.

Taize is a simple service which appeals to me very much these days. Simple chants are sung in Latin and English and there is much silence and the celebration of communion. Since I work at a church and have a part in planning and participating in leading worship, I appreciate so much the simplicity of Taize and the freedom to just worship. The sanctuary seems to come alive in the silence and the sunlight through the stained glass. A shadow from a tree, moving in the breeze, feel on one of the windows and it made the picture seem to be in motion. It was fascinating to watch.

I seemed to have no voice to sing. That seems to happen sometimes and I find it more frustrating to try so I listened to some glorious sopranos. And in listening I began to wonder about the difference between participating in and partaking in. I think I was partaking but I wasn't participating. Unless one considers listening as participation.

I looked up partaking in the dictionary and discovered that while it certainly means to participate, it means more: to receive, take, or have a share or portion, to have something of the nature or character. If that is the difference, to receive, have a share in and the same nature, then I want lots of partaking at worship.

In the beauty of the setting, in the sweetness of the voices, in the simplicity of communion served neighbor to neighbor, I was partaking in genuine worship in the purest sense of the word that I know. I was sitting in the presence of God in the company of my brothers and sisters and asking him to make himself known to me in new and deeper ways that my mind is capable of absorbing. I don't think I had any profound revelation, but peace settled on my head and shoulders and I relaxed a little. It didn't quite get to my heart, but I wasn't very receptive either.

This past Wednesday I celebrated communion in a different worship setting, I felt the same sense of wonder and awe in the silence of worship. In the midst of a conference on worship, a local church invited us in to worship with them. They had worked on the service and not long before we arrived the power went out. All the electrical elements went out the window. We worshipped by candlelight and acoustic guitar. The pastor spoke by candlelight and read us scripture by flashlight. Their expensive sound system went unused and their beautiful screens and the slides someone took the time to get ready sat unused and in the dark we listen for the word and met God in a different way in communion. And though I could not really participate as I might have if all that had been functioning so I could see the words and read along, I was partaking as I was being led and I was following as there was nothing else to do and very few things to distract me. It was deeply and profoundly worship in simplicity.

I think I am learning that both participating and partaking have their place, as do worship settings and sound systems. And I want to have them all to complete the picture. And in meeting God, in whatever form or fashion, the goal is to be fully present, eager to learn more, regardless of the setting. Hard to do that when that is also work, but it needs to be a priority as do times when I worship elsewhere. I need to breathe in God so breathing him out is both natural and intentional. And in partaking I experience God in ways I cannot define or describe. This is sacramental and I want more. Today, still at the conference, I worshipped in a huge auditorium with 1500 others in both traditional and contemporary settings. I participated fully in both. They were fun and energy filled. This is sacramental as well.

Balance is a funny thing. Wonder if I ever figure it out?