Attitude Adjustments

I am feeling the need to return to the gift of words and the inner sanctum of recorded thought, like a clothes line, that allows me to hang up all of the thoughts scrambling in my head, and perhaps diffuse the wrinkles of unresolved feelings and thoughts that are beginning to escape in the form of...attitude.  You know, unhealthy, pent up, highly volatile attitude that seeks some way to evaporate.  Maybe it is just me, but mine seems to all go in tension, short responses, and unreasonable anger.  It's time to get myself back to center.  So, hang on beloved, it could be a wild ride.

I am very tired of the toxicity of society today.  I get why Donald Trump is hard to embrace and defend, really.  I understand why people are keeping a watchful eye, and have some worries about how his tenure could cause some waves, maybe big waves.  I just really don't get at all why these same people are behaving like really mean bullies, totally treating this man like he is the only messed up person ever to be elected in our life time.  I am not that old (though not that young either) but I can certainly remember presidents who had sex with people to whom they were not married.  I am aware, in the course of history, there have been many who did not hold women as equals.  Why, oh why. oh why is today the day we are going to be self righteous and indignant?  I find people, who I have always admired and enjoyed, so full of their own attitudes and anger that I really can't even find a common topic to discuss.  I am finding the only way to communicate with these people is to NOT.  How awful!  People who have gifted me with God's grace and inspired many of my days.  What is God saying in this new season?  Have I confused God's touch in my life with the means used to deliver it? 

I am at a loss to know how to lead people well except to keep my focus on God.  I think love is required, hope is essential, and faith is the foundation for how we hunker down to withstand the tremendous winds and waves pummeling daily.  So, I am reading scripture with much more attention, leaning harder on prayer time, reminding myself that literally nothing separates us from the love of God, and more and more I am sure there is truly no being 'smart enough' to do this job.  I am reading the books, hanging with my tribe as often as I can, filling my time with resources that give more clarity, more possibilities, but every single day I still feel this overwhelming sense of having no idea what I am doing.  This is your party, God.  I am depending entirely on You, and I am confessing that while I believe, I have pockets of unbelief.  They keep me up, or wake me up, and they drive some of my attitude and anxiety.  Can you still use those who seem to have such trust deficiencies and an inability to grow past all of them?  Stepping out in faith that your patience is unfailing and your mercies are truly new every morning.  Boy, I need that to be right!

Then there is life and death, change of season, ongoing relationships that are neither easy nor always fun.  While I am aware the sun is always shining somewhere, there are days it is not shining on me.  Weeks.  What does one do with these grey, gloomy, Eeyore places?  How does one accept with an open hand, give thanks for the redemption one does not yet see, fill the empty cistern when no living water seems close at hand?  How can I give up my artificial, superficial, temporary relief mechanisms, believing there is real, deep, life affirming help coming?  Oh that I would see your hand clearly in ever situation, trust implicitly, surrender freely.  My neck muscles ache from the rigidity of standing still, hoping for the courage to stay. 

Finally, it comes down to identity.  Being someone's daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, pastor, friend, stumbling block, means of grace, is glorious and fulfilling.  It is also draining, uncertain, lacks security and affirmation, and reminds me most often of my inadequacy.  I know that as a Child of God, Person of Worth I am free from expectation, criticism, rejection, but somehow my heart gets lost in the never ending need around me, whispering over and over that I fall short.  I need to hear You more often.  Your love is the life blood, and I am in serious need of a steady supply.  How do I do that better?  I need a steady transfusion, a PICC line, so that when it is time to love others, I know I have plenty to share.  Its the fear of scarcity that limits my love for others.  When did that image become such a handicap to serving Your world?

Now we are at the heart of the attitude.  Love is not a limited resource, it is ever multiplying, ever expanding, ever inviting, ever renewed if one just takes the time to receive. Vision is clouded by filters that color my perception of hope.  Faith is pock marked by the weapons of war, and must be shored up by the ongoing protection of boundaries.  Today this is my promise, God.  I will keep showing up, and I am going to trust you will keep filling me up.  I know the ultimate battle has already been fought, and victory is assured.  Give me the eyes, ears to hear, and the ongoing Shalom of knowing all matter will be well indeed.  Attitude adjustment complete. 

Finnegan Begin Again

Life flows in seasons.  They are somewhat predictable, summer, winter, spring, fall.  Childhood, adolescence, young adult, middle age, senior citizen.  You know it is coming, you can expect each season to bring its own branding iron, leaving a mark that in some way, insignificant or mind blowing, impacts the travelers as they journey on.  Stories repeat, you begin to hear the same elements in the words that are spoken to and around you, it begins to be comfortable and even natural.

Then something changes.  Its not the season so much as the traveler.  One day you wake up and your skin doesn't fit any more.  A lot of tugging, adjusting, wiggling, ignoring, covering up, and decorating takes place trying to make your skin feel like it did just the night before.  But it doesn't.  There is a season of denial, an expectation that your skin is just on vacation and in a day or two at most, you will wake up and it will all feel normal again.  Then comes anger, frustration, resentment, fear.  Tug, tug, tug.  One day you wake up and look at yourself and discover there are a few places where you can see that you like some of the new skin you are in.  In a few spots, it might even be better skin than you had before.   It even feels a little, you know, good in places.  More time passes, a season or two, and you really can't imagine how you ever lived without the skin you are in now.

Then something changes.  Why?  Is this journey really about seasons, learning to love your skin, embracing the journey, or perhaps even learning to grieve loss?  Is God leading us on, over, around, through?  Are we being stretched, shrunk, dry cleaned, enlarged or expanded?  In the moments of sheer panic and overwhelming fear, are we learning free fall, or fully relying on God, or are we just so plaguing slow that we don't get that this same old comfortable skin wasn't meant to get us through the whole journey?

Yeah, and one more question.  If this is the way we were meant to grow in grace and love with God and others,why is it that we don't recognize  the symptoms in our fellow travelers?  Why don't we help one another recognize that it is simply time to begin again?  Why, after so many pilgrims have made this journey, are we still discovering anew, sometimes in isolated misery, that we don't call the shots on this trip?  We don't choose to begin again, a new beginning is given to us.  We can sit, arms and legs crossed, refusing to budge, but it changes nothing.  A new beginning is our only option, unless of course we just chose not to move.  To me, that is no choice at all.

So Finnegan begins again.  All to the glory of God.

A Fork in the Road

Nothing like a return to academia to make you rekindle a love for writing!  Ha!  I crack myself up sometimes.  Still, all of those papers did remind me that a work that has been carefully worded, painstakingly edited, loving crafted, packs a punch.  Some of those sentences are so delicious, you can feast on them again and again.  That is missing when you just draw from your brain the random words that come to mind concerning a topic, a concept, or even a matter of heart.

A little over a year ago I started a new trail in leaving my job in resourcing and serving as a pastor in a local church.  I was not sure at all I had what it takes, and of course still testing the call with great fear and trembling.  Every single conversation was well considered, I was trying to be sure I knew that God was leading and I was following.  The scripture became more than even sermon prep, it became the source of encouragement, direction, affirmation, challenge.  I walked many a mile trying to be sure that God hadn't confused me with another, you know, more spiritual, better disciplined leader.  That scripture about not taking a seat at the head table, because it is humiliating to be asked to move, stays somewhere in my mind almost all of the time.

Today I stand a year on this trail, more convinced daily that God is leading and I am following faithfully, or as faithfully as a knucklehead can.  I am beginning to see new life peeking out at me in this place and that.  I see leaders evolving, stepping up, being willing to do the next thing.  I see transformation, and believe it is leading to more.  I see lives being touched, new faces hanging in, children coming in abundance.  Where there was once just a dream, now a vision begins to take form. The lost and the least are beginning to matter to us.  How amazing is our God!

I am recognizing seasons better by their themes.  The seasons that come with aging are hard, and painful, but also wonderful and carry their own delight.  Something about new life makes the value of old even higher.  The seasons of darkness, fear, chaos, loneliness have as much fruit as the seasons of light, happiness, community and direction.  All of it belongs, all of it speaks, all of it heals, restores, makes holy.  Our God is closer daily, though not always speaking in the same ways.  Be still, He whispers to my internal storms.  Peace.

The hunger grows.  The hunger to see the Kingdom come, in me as well as in others.  The desire to be better at what I do, more disciplined, more effective, more fruitful and faithful.  The urge to be great at what I do, pressing on for excellence, is a tension that keeps my prayer life growing.  Am I speaking the truth, God?  Have I heard you?  Can I say this better? Faster?  Do I live incarnation or just teach about it?  Learning to be focused on the main thing, and not distracted by every red herring, or rabbit, that crosses my path is great in conversation, theory, even study.  I find it really challenging in practicality.

This is not the end of the trail, only the very beginning.  I am living into where this trail is leading, but it feels like my trail now.  I look around so blessed by my companions, and I look up and believe that the Light that shines in the darkness is especially bright over my head.  I stand in awe of that magnitude of grace and mercy that flows in God's Kingdom. So let your light so shine that others will see the good work God is doing through you, and give Him all the praise and glory.

Making a new beginning, again! Begin again with me. How wonderful that that truly grace is new every morning, great is God's faithfulness.

The Way, The Truth, The Life

An Open Letter From A Pilgrim On the Journey

To My Fellow Travelers

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

I am feeling the need to share with you my current place of contemplation, in that hopes that you will be able to share some insights.  Thank you in advance for your prayerful response.

I read of declining numbers and diminishing effectiveness of our current Church,and I see many of us concerned by that and eager to have a positive impact not only for our own sake but the future of the faith.  Yet, I see little desire to sit together in community, discerning where the Spirit is at work.  I hear a lot of discussion about the means of grace, and the importance of developing a strong relationship with God, and our neighbor, yet we spend a lot of time in debate and discussion, confusion and frustration. We say this is God's Church, the Bride of Christ, yet we seem to be spending all of our energies trying to figure out how we can improve it for the current reality without asking God how to do that.  Do we believe that God started the Church through Jesus and then left it in our hands?  Can anyone help me with this?

We are fighting again over emotional issues, both sides with an agenda that we say represents God's truth.  There are some who say there is no truth, all of life is situational.  Certainly this attitude allows for all the conflict, yet is inconsistent with Jesus' teaching.  The word in John 14:6 for truth is aletheia which is defined according to Strongs as: truth, but not merely truth as spoken; truth of idea, reality, sincerity, truth in the moral sphere, divine truth revealed to man, straightforwardness. If Strongs is right, and John was right, and Jesus is right, then there is truth, and Jesus is it.  Jesus as fully God and fully man. Jesus in the quiet moments of teaching and in the violent moments of temple clearing.  Jesus warmly welcoming the children, and sadly letting a 'rich, young, ruler' make his own choice.  Jesus who washed his disciples feet, and rebuked inappropriate behavior.  Jesus who came to fulfill the law, not destroy it. Jesus who said if we even so much as call our brother a fool we are in peril of eternal death, and told us to forgive 7 x 77.   Jesus who is not God 5.0 but God who was, is and is to come.  This Jesus is Truth.  We cannot claim our own preferences as truth, our own desires as holy, our own attitudes as righteous.  We can only claim that we have been grafted into a productive vine and our chief responsibility seems to be Jesus for the world today by abiding in him continuously.  Yet, we call each other names, we assume we are righteous and therefore holy.  Can anyone help me with this?

At some point along my particular journey, I realized that while spending eternity with God in heaven sounds lovely, living each day in God's Kingdom is my current opportunity for transformation.  The day to day presence of God in the glorious light of the Holy Spirit is what gives the greatest joy, the powerful peace, the inner hunger for more and more.  It is the comfort and challenge in community to stand together in the midst of drama, trauma. celebration and tragedy. The life lived among fellow travelers who are on the way home, it is the real genuine life that makes eternal life a natural transition.  It is God incarnate, who is transforming my mind, transforming my heart, transforming my vision so that this life becomes a life that not only matters, it faithfully is God's Kingdom come, God's will done.  Jesus is the past, present, future life in our midst, in the desert mothers and fathers lives, in the future pilgrims who have not yet become.  Jesus' life is the triumph that makes death simply another transformation.  Yet, we seem to be acting as though this current state of confusion in the Church will stamp out a faith that existed long before we had as many denominations as we do flavor choices at Baskin Robbins.  Can anyone help me with that?

I believe Jesus.  I believe in Jesus.  I believe that God who is defined in relationship wants me to be equally so.  I believe that the messy frustrations of dealing with conflict, confusion, attitudes, egos, issues, drama, trauma, celebration and tragedy is essential.  I just don't know why we have to do it with so many sharp edges.  Why couldn't the love be so strong that we could look at one another with the curiosity of a toddler who picks things up and says, "Gramma Sue, what is that?" instead of the horror of an adult yelling "Don't touch that, it's gross!"?  Why, my brothers and sisters, must we demean that which we cannot understand and somehow feel diminished by?  Why oh why oh why can't we all stand with the saint of all time saying the pledge like we might at AA,"Hi. I am Sue and I am a sinner saved by grace".

With the hope of a better conversation,

Your sister in Christ.

Pure in Heart

Dear God,

It's me again.  I am tired and angry, frustrated and fearful, put out and put upon.  I am outraged at injustice and incompetence, and I want very much to stand somewhere high above the maddening crowd pronouncing judgement, calling down thunder and  lightening.  You know that I have lost my way, my focus, and the pure heart that hungers to see you.  Remind me, Father.  Help me see what is important, what is eternal, what is you.

The family?  You have that covered.  You know what my family needs far more than I do.  You know the choices we make, good and bad, and you have promised to redeem them all.  You love perfectly, and you know that nothing, nothing, nothing can separate your children from you.  I can trust that you mean what you say, you will never leave or forsake any of us, and you grace will be sufficient.  I am afraid but perfect love drives out fear, and it will keep us in the palm of your hands.  So, we may be pressed but not crushed, persecuted but not abandoned, struck down but not destroyed.  We will stand because you will make us able.  Paul knew from personal experience what I am living into.  You will be enough.

The job?  You have that covered.  You know the dreams, I think they came from you.  You know the work, the heart, the hope, and the promise we live into.  If it isn't yours. I want to let it go.  If it is, open the doors that bring the victory and the glory back where it belongs, to you.  I am praying that my desire for your will grows in leaps and bounds, and my desire for my own will wither and die.  If this is the pathway that leads to that, help me endure.  If it isn't, then move heaven and earth to see your will done.  You made me, and you know me inside and out, all of my hope depends on you.  Help me to trust that is the only way to go.  You know I am afraid you will leave me in the dust.  I believe in you, please help my unbelief.

The Kingdom?  It is yours.  It was always yours.  I don't know what my part is exactly except to say, here I am send me.  So here I am, willing, fearful, tearful and trying to trust that you will accomplish what you want through me.  It's pathetic how small my faith is at times, and how deep distrust is rooted in my being.  Dig it out of me and replace it with the purity of heart that sees you as you are, not as I imagine.   Create in my a clean, whole, healthy, pure heart, and renew the power and presence of the Holy Spirit in me.

The future?  I want a future from Psalm 27.  I want to live in the Lord's house all the days of my life, seeing the beauty, constantly adoring, sheltered in your dwelling during troubled times.  I want to be hid in secret places, in your own tent, set up high, safe on the Rock. I don't want to fight these demons alone, and I no longer want to fear defeat.  I want to remember victory was won, and is a foregone conclusion.  I want to have my mind in perfect peace as it is focused always on you.

Waiting for peace to return, as it always does.  Thank you for your unconditional love and the promise after promise, reminder after reminder, hope upon hope.   You can always see me, really see me, and make the me you see beautiful.  This is grace.  

Serious talk about Shoes

Perhaps it was Dorthy in the Wizard of Oz, or maybe it was the Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada  but I am pretty convinced there is something magical about shoes.  They have a direct impact on attitude, I am convinced.  You put on a pair of flip flops, with or without embellishment, and you just have that footloose and fancy free feeling that came with being a teenager on summer vacation.   Some nice heels with a little bling and you are a starlet, gracing the world with your presence.  More likely for me would be the sneaker, sandals or most currently, the combination of the two, is the 'bring it on I got this' look.  Should I show up wearing slippers though, someone needs to send me home with a police escort if necessary.  Shoes, I am telling you, it is all about the shoes.

So imagine my surprise to see the man walking up the sidewalk in Nashville, strolling along at a pretty good clip, not wearing any shoes.  I don't know the man of course, and it would have been inappropriate for me to roll down my window and ask him where his shoes might be, but I really wanted to know why he was shoeless.  I could imagine all kind of crud that he must be walking on and over and through on his way to where ever he was going.  I worried about him all that day and he is still hanging out in the back of my mind.  Why, he could cut his feet, or pick up a disease, or wander through some horrible fluids of one kind or another.  Where were the man's shoes for goodness sake!

Then I got to wondering about places where people don't wear shoes.  I am a follower of Katie Davis and I have read her book Kisses from Katie.  I am aware that there are many people without shoes, and I know that they pick up parasites and all kind of infection from roaming without protection.  I know that shoes are often a luxury in places where survival is not a given.  Still, I can't even wrap my mind around a way of life where there are no magical shoes, or the ease to go replace those that are no longer wearable, or I  don't like.  I need to wrap my mind around it though, anything that bugs you that much must be a call from the Holy Spirit.

So I googled Soles4Souls today.  I discovered that not only does this ministry get shoes and clothing

to people who need them, they also create jobs by opening thrift stores so that people will not only get what they need, they can earn money in the process.  They also have an app for your phone that allows you to tack the miles you walk, run or bike and a donation of .25$ is given to help support this ministry.  You know, I don't know a thing about Soles4Souls., I don't know who runs it or what they believe or how effective they are, so I guess this isn't an official endorsement.   I just know that I am somehow concerned about shoes and people who don't have them, and I need to get some good exercise daily, and the combination might just be what the doctor ordered.

We get these prompts from time to time, and I believe they are doorways into partnering with the Holy Spirit for the sake of the Kingdom.  I don't know where this particular pathway leads, but I am putting on my journeying shoes and we will see. 

Thank you Mr. Shoeless Guy, I think I owe you one.

Comfort in Discomfort

What a season we are having, Church!

Just between us, this call to radical hospitality is exhausting, isn't it?  Every Sunday morning we are expected to be on the lookout for all these new people, welcome them and even give them our seats if they wish to sit where we ALWAYS sit.  Everyone will wonder if I am even in church if they don't see me sitting in the same place!  Worse, sometimes I don't even know all of the news because I am on greeter detail, and everyone expects me to talk to all the new people.  Thank goodness I am not a greeter every week!  Still during the meet and greet, I feel like I need to be looking for the new people, because someone will bring it up in my small group.  Going to church recently has just been a lot more work than I remember.


In addition now there is this need to find people who don't know Jesus, when I have spent all of my adult life avoiding them.  I was supposed to choose my friends wisely, remember?  You become like those you are around, I have been told hundreds of times.  I was very intentional about finding good Christian friends.  I love being with people who study the bible and want to talk about God!  Now I am being challenged to find people who don't know God and develop a relationship with them.  I tell you, it is wearing me out.  Have you noticed that people who don't know Jesus don't even care about how often I read my bible, go to church or even my very spiritual small group??? 

Studying Luke's Gospel is also a challenge.  It turns out I can't even invite my friends to a party, I have to invite people who can never throw a party on their own.  I am supposed to go find the lost, friendless, disabled, poor.  They are the people I need to be inviting to church, to the picnics, to my home.  I just don't really know that many people who are poor, or friendless and I worry about people with disabilities.  After all, what if something happens?  Will I know how to help?

Who is the center of my life, I am being asked.   It's Jesus, isn't it?  I read the scripture, I pray, I go to worship regularly, I give to the church, I have even written checks to support missions.  Surely God is the center of my life, Church.  Surely!

Only, there is something that's bothering me about the Gospel...I mean, Jesus does seem to make friends with some odd people.  Jesus does say some hard things to the leaders in the church that sometimes make me a little uncomfortable.  Jesus implies that we all have a cross to bear.   There have been some challenges in my life that I was sure might be the cross He referred to, but now I am wondering if there was more.  In fact, I am beginning to feel very uncomfortable.

I am finding less and less to support the idea that worship should be for me.  I can find nowhere in the scripture where my preferences trump others.  As I read about Paul and Barnabas and all of the first followers of Jesus, I can't find a good example of gathering in a group of believers and shutting out the world.  Even when it was a life or death situation, they still talked about Jesus.  I am more uncomfortable all the time.

What a season, Church!  Why couldn't I have remained happy in my own little Christian world?  Why on earth am I called to such a time as this?  Because I have been blessed beyond measure and I am being invited to help see God's Kingdom come, God's will be done?  Because I have been grafted into the Body of Christ, and as a child of God I can afford to be uncomfortable, since my security is absolute?  Because I have been shaped and formed in the image of Christ for the sake of others?  

You know, those seems like a valid reason.  Being uncomfortable is...uncomfortable, but it is a small sacrifice compared to what we have been given, Church.  How wonderful that God calls us to discomfort together.  Life will be different in the days ahead, and no one likes change.  Still, what if we are the people who, for such a times as this, transform the world?  Would that be worth some discomfort?  I think so, and my grandchildren will think so too. 

Discomfort may be a new spiritual discipline.  Or an old one revisited.  It may even look good on us! 

Politically Impatient

I am beginning to loathe the fall.  This is awful because it is traditionally one of my favorite times of the year.  I got married in September, I love to watch the leaves change, I adore the return of football, my sons loved marching band.  It's just full of all kinds of great activity, and it leads up to all those wonderful holidays.   Typically the weather cools off, but is still delightful.  It's the return to programming everywhere, I get to see people I missed all summer.  What is not to love about that?!

I will tell you!  It is the return to politics.  It is the billion political posts that drive me just about around the bend.  It is the right posting articles about the evil of the left, it is the left posting articles about the evil of the right.  Everyone finds the very thing that will bring enlightenment to everyone else, only it never does.  It simply provokes an article from the opposing party pointing out how unenlightened the first post was.  No one impacts anyone else, except to have them dig in deeper to the position they were already holding.  As to the undecided, they are deciding they don't want to be like either side, and they opt out. 

Already showing up in facebook the battle is launching, and this is not even a presidential election.  There are people I begin hiding because I can't bear to read their quote from one source or another.  You only need to read where it comes from to know what it says.  Can't anyone see this doesn't help anyone but the people who already think what you do?

I am sure I am the nut about this.  Others seem to enjoy the battle, working hard for ammunition to beat the other side.  Lord knows there are industries that thrive because of the on going war.  There has long been the belief that one party helps to hold the other party accountable, but I wonder how much this holds true.  So much in the world has changed, so much intolerance of intolerance, I wonder if we are ready to be people who reclaim some real core identity instead of people who are defined by opposition.

The Church is certainly experiencing a season where we are being called to reclaim our purpose and our heart.  We spent much too long fighting with the opposition on every topic from the way we baptize and who can serve where, to what color our carpet would be.  We were so opinionated and deeply entrenched that the world decided they could be spiritual without us.  In order to be the place that disciples are made, we must return to our first love.  The call Paul gave to the Philippians in Chapter 2 still stands:

 

Therefore, if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort in love, any sharing in the Spirit,

 any sympathy, ² complete my joy by thinking the same way, having the same love, being united, and agreeing with each other. ³ Don’t do anything for selfish purposes, but with humility think of others as better than yourselves. ⁴ Instead of each person watching out for their own good, watch out for what is better for others.

 

While I am not suggesting that the world of politics pays all that much attention to Paul or the scripture, I do believe it would be a real blessing if the Church could show the world how much better it is to be for something instead of against something.  What if we stopped trying to compete and started complimenting?  What might happen if we made room for difference, and still stayed true to our own beliefs?  What if instead of becoming a big blob of nothing, we became people who are so comfortable with our identity, we didn't need to make others look the same to belong? 

 

Just a thought.  Until then, perhaps I better avoid social media under after election day.

 

 



Hope for the Helpless, Rest for the Weary

Warning Label: Contents of this blog are mostly likely going to be highly opinionated.  Proceed at your own risk.

The Church is God's creation.  The Church is God's preferred way to have people in community reaching people in community.  The scripture help us a lot with the kind of treatment required in community to make this possible.  It describes the type of discomfort we may encounter, it tells us sacrifice, surrender and suffering are a part of the life of a disciple.  We are even told that none of this goes unnoticed by God, who is already at work bringing redemption, healing and wholeness.  I think one can safely say, without much fear of being dismissed as a heretic, that God is all in, about and  all through this Church business.  It is a God thing. 

Then you go into a church and you run into the community and quite frankly you begin to believe that scripture is propaganda for a bait and switch strategy where you think you are getting a ginger bread house, but instead there is a witch in there who wants to have you for dinner, literally.  I don't mean just the laity or just the clergy.  I mean all of these modern day cannibals who seem to enjoy eating their young, old and everyone in between.

So, if you are like me, you start thinking to yourself, hmmm this church thing may need to be decimated from the face of the earth so people stop thinking that's Jesus.  Not that this is the only way to clean it up, but it seems like a permanent solution.  Only, before I can get this even into the public eye, I come across the Church being God's creation.  Church...and church....and God....and community.  Good grief.  Where does the Gospel fit in here?

How, my friends, does the church become the Church again?  Somewhere in the back of my mind is that song 'Cry out to Jesus' by Third Day keeps running through my head:

There is hope for the helpless
Rest for the weary
Love for the broken heart
There is grace and forgiveness
Mercy and healing
He'll meet you wherever you are
Cry out to Jesus, Cry out to Jesus 

 

 

And as I sing along, I wonder if I believe that if I cry out to Jesus, he will come and lead us in the church back to being the Church again.  I say I believe that, but do I pray believing it?  Am I crying out to and for Jesus, or just crying?  I know if it isn't God, it doesn't happen, but I find myself working, and scheming and stressing as if it were all me.  I remember that if it isn't God at work then it just doesn't work at all.  The whole house of cards falls, because this was God's rodeo from the beginning.  How do I get so frantic about saving this for God?!

 

So here is my public confession, I am dedicating myself to  having no hope in any plans that aren't God's plans.  I  am committed to thinking there is no program that will help, if it isn't God's program.  I am almost sure that the church doesn't become the Church until it stops trying to do things for God and starts trying to do things with God.

 

For an overachieving, problem solver, recovering perfectionist, this is a major life change.   In fact, I heard the sound of hell freezing over just a few moments ago.  I just truly believe that it is that simple.  This is God's show.  We are not puppets, we get to choose if we will do what we are asked to do, but this is not our plan, our call or our adventure.  We step into the best adventure ever because in the process we get adopted into the family, with no way to be disinherited, thrown off the island, or sold out by our siblings.  We stay as long as we want to.  Is that a deal or what?!  Of course there is a catch, it will cost us everything and this isn't and never will be our show, it is always God's.  It isn't our party, and we don't get to say how it goes, who gets invited and where it happens.  We just get to come and enjoy the Host.

 

But we get to cry out to Jesus. 

It's a good deal.  Let's take it.

 





Number Phobia

Jesus tells the story of a shepherd who has 100 sheep.  One of them goes missing, and the shepherd leaves the 99 to find the one.  That's how important the one is to the Good Shepherd.   It's a very good parable about how much God loves each one of us.  How great an effort the Good Shepherd will go to bring into the flock each and everyone of us!

I am making this point intentionally, so that no one accuse me of taking the scripture out of context.  However, there is another element to this story, and that one is all about the number. 

The shepherd knows how many sheep he has.  He knows when one of the sheep is missing.  I suspect if the story were allowed to develop, the shepherd would record all of the new sheep that were born into the flock, all of the new sheep purchased to improve the quality of the flock.  The shepherd would know because the sheep are his responsibility.  Healthy sheep are important too, no doubt, but knowing how many you have it vital.  A good shepherd knows how many sheep they can successfully raise on their land.  They carefully breed sheep to have the lambs born in specific seasons.  There is one male to so many females.  This is all about the numbers.

The truth of the matter is numbers tell our stories.   While our stories are always much more than numbers, but you can't leave the numbers out and tell the story.  It is impossible to know if you are growing or shrinking without numbers, you can't possibly know if you are making money, or losing it without numbers, and if you don't know what you had when you started, you have no idea if you have lost any.  The numbers matter.

So why does the church hate to count?  Why do more people than you can possibly imagine spend countless hours developing strategies that keep us from counting who comes to worship, who professes their faith, how churches spend their money?  What are we afraid of, for goodness sake?!

Perhaps we are afraid we will be guilty of being a poor steward of the resources we have been given, like the man with the talents who buried them in the yard.  Perhaps we are afraid we will discover that we failed to develop our own relationship with God, or encouraged others to do so.  Maybe we will find we are ineffective, and not even sure we believe a relationship with God is the core of our being.  Some of us might even discover we no longer believe.  Those are frightful answers, but if they are even partially true, don't you think its long past time that we deal with them?

Running away from numbers will not save us from anything.  They don't set our value, they frame the story we are living.  They tell us where we are, where we were, and what the immediate future is shaping up to be.  Since God holds all we are, all we have, and all we need, the numbers can't hurt us, they only help us identify where God is working so we can get on board.

The shepherd must have times when the numbers aren't good.  He or she has too many sheep, or too few, they are making lots of lambs or none, some have gone missing.   I don't think ignoring the numbers improves them,  In fact, on the basis of my experience and current weight, I can testify that ignoring the scale does not make you the slightest bit thinner.  Paying more attention might have made the remedial action much easier to endure.

If we spent less time fighting about counting, and more time prayerfully considering what the numbers might be telling us, we might even discover God is doing a new thing.  We may not be able to do it the way we have always done it, but I believe with all my heart this dance is far from over.  I see the energy and the passion building, there are new players changing the game and there is more interest and response than ever in my life time.  People are listening, they are responding to mission, the numbers of adult professions of faith are growing.  Maybe the numbers might even tell us a story worth sharing.

I am counting on it!

Beyond Offended

I have been known to be offended.  Sometimes, in that need I have to be counter cultural, I become offended with people who are offended by me.  Being offended has become a God given right.  If I had a nickle for every time someone suggested I be more diplomatic in sharing a concept, I would be at least $2 richer.  We must be politically correct, we should not say anything that would offend others, and if we have been offended we are entitled to notify the newspaper, police department and all of our friends on facebook and twitter.  We put our hands on the proverbial hips and we announce we have been offended, and the traffic halts and there is such a loud corporate gasp that for just a split second all time stands still.  To cause someone to be offended is a sin greater than all other sin combined.  Many a church meeting has been interrupted and derailed because some person offended some other person.

This week the Upper Room posted this picture to their facebook status.   I usually like their stuff, so I always peek to see what they have to say on any given day.  Only Rene Descartes and the Upper Room offended me greatly with this post.  Whenever anyone has offended me, I try to raise my soul so high that the offense cannot reach it.   

As I try to tell the truth as often as I can, except with regards to my age and my weight, I will confess that this bothered me.  Rene Descartes got right under my skin and try as I might, this little image was stuck in my brain.  Darn it, what do you suppose the Holy Spirit might be saying to me about the right to be offended? 

I am working up a sermon on relational ministry, so I am up to my eyebrows in scripture concerning what Jesus, Paul, Matthew,  Luke, Peter and so many others had to say about doing life together.  I am finding a lot about going the extra mile, sacrificing for others, giving thanks in all things, taking on the mind of Christ, considering it all joy, supporting each other, focusing on the good, abiding in Jesus always, pouring out, being a servant to all, waiting with expectation for the redemption that is coming.  I have found nothing yet that says, be easily offended, demand others honor your desires and sensitivities, insist on your own way, and fight until you are treated in the manner in which you wish to become accustomed.  I haven't given up, but I am beginning to believe Rene and the Holy Spirit are calling me to more.

What would life be like if my spirit could soar so high that offense didn't stick to me?  How much yuck, bad feelings and disappointment would I avoid if it all went by without having any impact at all?  Could there be freedom in avoiding all of that stuff that I dislike so very much in surrendering my right to be offended?

I am almost sold on the idea, but the practical application I see as being challenging.  I have years of experience after all in keeping score, taking offense and getting the satisfaction of having an apology or, if we are really telling the truth, making others pay.  Can I honestly live into a place where offense isn't even a possibility in my faith walk?  I don't know, but I hope so.   I have decided I will take Rene's prayer to be my own.  I want to reach that glorious place that Paul assures me exists: to learn to be content in all seasons, even seasons where others are offensive.  If I can convince my heart that my ego is a bad directional indicator, I see light on the horizon.

 This moving on to perfection is a full time job.  My only hope is to wait on the Lord and to soar on wings like eagles.  I just might learn to like soaring, it looks like fun from where I am standing.

Church: This is not who we are

Everyone has an opinion.  They are a dime a dozen and most people have no problem giving any number of them away.  You can find an opinion on any topic you can think of, and some no one ever has.  While opinions are fascinating, and have the unique gift of helping others learn who we are, they serve no purpose in bringing unity to a community.

The very nature of an opinion divides us from others.  It may help a group of people who share the same opinion find us, and stand around us so we feel affirmed, but they separate us from everyone else.  Has any one noticed lately how good we are a separation?   Wouldn't it be a wonderful thing if instead of piling on, the Church became the great connector?

Honestly, taking sides is NOT the purpose of the Church.  I know, it has been the function of the church, but it is not the purpose of the Church.  Church is not a gathering place for like minded people to pat one another on the back and feel good about being like minded.  Yes, I am aware that in many places that is how church is being done.  I understand why that is a natural resting place when we have the option of forgetting the Gospel and settle for a group of people, just like me.  Only, we don't.

We are a people who serve as light bearers to the world we live in.  We have been gifted and called to serve as the hands and feet of Christ to the people we encounter everyday, our neighbors.  We don't wait for the politicians, the legal system, or the poll data, we share the unconditional love of Christ to the best of our ability every day.  Perhaps I said that wrong, we are called to do so.  There are places where they are, but many have forgotten that this is part of the covenant we were adopted into.

God loves us to much that He doesn't withhold anything to restore a relationship with us, not even Jesus.  Jesus lived, died and was resurrected to give us the pathway that leads to this journey, not just for eternity, but for living into this divine, incarnate relationship every day.  Our response to living this relationship leads us to connect with our world to offer the same relationship to everyone we meet.  Even those with opinions that make no sense to us. 

I will confess right now that this relationship with God, expressed in the Trinity,(God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit) is so core to my being that without it I would be a shell of a person.  I know what it has done for me in so many ways I cannot even remember then all.  How could I not want that for every person God sends my way?  How could the Church not?  Even if we don't have the same opinion, freedom is so intoxicating who wouldn't want to offer it to everyone?!  Can I go even farther and say, if we don't want to do so, do you suppose we don't truly have the relationship we are claiming?  Maybe we aren't free ourselves, and how did that ever happen?

It's beyond time Church.  Please wake up and step into the glorious Body of Christ, where we certainly love and support one another, and we eagerly hope to welcome more and more 'parts' so that we get to see God's Kingdom come, and God's will be done.  Will it be more challenging?  You bet it will!  How much is the joy of the Kingdom worth?

My boss wrote a great blog about things the clergy needed to unlearn.  Several people asked him to write the same kind of article for the laity, since we have some things to unlearn too.  He passed on that and asked me to write, from a lay person to a lay person.  So I did. 

 

To all of my fellow laity: We have been highly critical of the clergy for a number of years now.  We have been very vocal about issues with those who serve our local congregations, many valid concerns, and some unrealistic demands.  Though the Church has been slow to respond to the frustration, in recent years there has been a move on the part of the leadership to look at education, pastoral care and the lack of vision that has disconnected the local church from the community.  The lack of discipleship in the local church is reaching critical mass, and the lack of leadership from the clergy is being discussed on every level.

That’s all great news, and important for a move to health and vitality.  It is just half of the picture.  It is time we do our own inventory and look at the things we need to unlearn.  This is my short list:

1.  While our church leaders, Pastor, church staff, are responsible to give vision, direction and guidance, they are not charged with keeping us happy.  We are equally called to service in the Body of Christ, not only to be served.  We are partner in ministry, not consumers.  The staff cannot fulfill their responsibilities in outreach to the community if they are forever holding our hands, listening to our laundry lists of complaints about temperature, sermon topic and new hymns we have never sung before.  It’s time we grow up, take responsibility for our own part of the Kingdom and go to work alongside our church leaders, as we are gifted and called to do.  We were ordained in our baptism after all, not to every role, but to a role.

2.  The church building does not belong to us; it is an asset for ministry.  Our functions are important, and fellowship as believers is essential, but they are not the sole purpose of the building.  Inviting the community to see the building as a great meeting place will connect us with people who would never cross the threshold for a Bible study or a worship service.  Groups who find a home in one of our classrooms may find a home in our church family, particularly if we happen to be in the building when they come and extend hospitality.  We cannot lock the doors during the week in order to keep the building in outstanding condition and the expenses down and think this is a good decision for the life of our church.   It will work for as long as we are here to pay the bills, then one day one of us will be the last one to turn out the light.

3.  Worship on Sunday is not entertainment, and we are not the audience.   Worship is a time for us to gather, hear God’s word, get filled up, and go in the power of the Spirit to change the world.   If you go home and nothing changes, in you or in your world, it’s time to stop and consider where you are disconnecting.    Where there is life, there is growth.  If all of your God stories are from years ago, it might be time to take your spiritual pulse.

4.  There are a lot more of us (laity) than there are of them (clergy).  Why did we ever decide sharing the Gospel was only for the ‘professionals’?   Who has the greatest opportunity to share the love of God with the community?  We do!  What is the best way to share your faith with others?  Live it, all the time, in all of the places you go.  Be the love of God the world is hungry for, offer grace and mercy, be the disciple you would like others to become. In football terminology, most plays work better if the team huddles up, hears the call and plays their position.  We like to huddle up, hear the call and go sit in the stand to see how it goes.  Let’s get on the field, people.

Real change, deep change, begins one person at a time.  We have to do the hard work of moving from consumer to partner, give up rights and pick up our responsibilities, desire that others develop deep relationships with Jesus Christ enough to surrender being the center of the church.  Growing up in grace means we are so secure in our identities as children of God and people of immeasurable worth that we can afford to sacrifice for the sake of others.  What will we get if we choose to be faithful?   I believe we will begin to see the God’s Kingdom come, and God’s will done.  That’s a legacy for our children and grandchildren that will be worth the discomfort change brings.  It’s time brothers and sisters; let’s be the change we are ready to see.

My Father's Daughter

Have you ever noticed that when a holiday occurs, with no real deep memories to trigger reflection, you still end up reflecting?  It's somewhat ridiculous that I can think of no deep meaningful moment my dad and I had on a Father's Day, yet every year when Father's Day rolls around, I think of my dad.

The only Father's Day I have any distinct memory of is the year I left for camp on Father's Day.  My dad drove to my friends home and her incredibly good looking older brother loaded my stuff from one car to the other, and whispered to me in the process "Say happy Father's Day to your dad."  So of course I did, and I don't remember my dad's response at all, but I do remember thinking I would go to the moon and back if this guy suggested I should.  Not really a good father memory.....

My dad was not a warm fuzzy kind of dad.  There were no father/daughter dates though he seemed to like me just fine, particularly when I got married young and moved out of the house.  He was more of a spectator, and occasionally a critic, though not excessively.  Music was his life, always had been, so he didn't really enjoy my musical education from others, and while not personally critical, he was certainly displeased with my instructors.  "Argh!" was a frequent comment on a variety of subjects.  He like his children best when they were off being good somewhere close by but not too close by.

My dad was extremely private and he was not given to share his deep thoughts on many subjects.  If pushed he would respond briefly, uncomfortably, often with another argh!  He never wore shorts, and he never swam.  I don't know why, as in his young years he worked as a life guard and there are pictures where he clearly has legs.  I never did get to know why, though as a persistent little person I asked over and over.  My mother took us to the pool often, and he said she was Esther Williams, and they laughed, but my siblings and I had no idea why that was funny, or who Esther Williams might be.

My dad was fascinated by his Scottish roots, taking us the highland games every year.  The bagpipes when they were all played together always made me cry.  He wore his tartan with pride, and fit right in with all the clan.  I thought I might like to take up Scottish dancing, as it looked fascinating, but there didn't seem to be many Scottish dancing classes close to my home in Pittsburgh.  For his funeral my father requested a bagpipe player in the cemetery.  A friend made the arrangements and there he was, dressed to the nines, standing in the cemetery with the snow blowing past him.  First time I shed tears was listening once again to him play Scotland the Brave and thinking how much my father loved that.  Of course, the second thought was, how did we know they didn't bury my father with his head pointed the wrong way?  Nothing rational about funerals.

My father taught all his life, and he had some brilliant students along the way.  He wasn't great with his hands, he wasn't terribly athletic, and looking at pictures of him now, I realize he wasn't really all that tall.  He was pragmatic, and forward thinking.  He was always moving on, and didn't suffer with the 'what if' syndrome.  He accepted things as they were and he stoically faced most of life challenges.  He had struggles professionally and personally like everyone else, but you would have never known that from the outside. 

The last week we spend together he talked of the major events in his life.  The places he took his choirs that he was proud of, the music that spoke to his heart, the things he found enjoyable.  In the end he found peace with God in the most ordinary of ways when an Episcopalian priest brought him communion, literally the last meal he ever consumed.  He wanted me to know he was peaceful and at home with God because I had badgered him with my desire to know God the way I did all of my adult life.  I badgered God too.  Neither paid the slightest attention to me, but both honored my heart when it mattered.  When I lost my dad, I knew he had gone home to my Father.

Almost 15 years later I have come to some real peace about my Father too.  I realize that though my dad may have missed some key moments in my life, my Father never did.  My dad was a good man, a wounded man doing the best he could with what he had.  My Father is the dad my heart has always hungered for, and of course the Mother too.  That deep need for love, acceptance, belonging, home that I have looked for in every significant relationship in my life, and always felt some disappointment, was always present, possible and just as hungry to have me.  By far the most amazing, miraculous, unbelievable joy in my life was discovering God wanted me as much if not more than I wanted God.  And a billion others, just like me.

So thank you, dad for being who you are and were to me through some roller coaster years.  Thank you God for being the Father I need and hunger for.  Thank you for waiting for me to figure out that when our relationship is right, relationship with others is so much better because I don't need what they can't give.  Happy Father's Day.

Lost

Yes, I admit, long after the craze is over, I have become a Lost junkie.  Far from being hip enough to be on board when it launched in 2004, or even to be in for the close in 2010, I wander into the land of Hulu and started to watch while recovering from pneumonia last month.  Downton Abbey was fabulous but I had finished all those episodes and still had "I don't feel great" time on my hands.  A friend said would enjoy watching Lost, the message was good.  Hmmmmm, I thought.  It sounded like the land I was living in, so Lost it was.

I was pretty sure early on that Lost was not going to be for me.  First, there was a lot of blood.  I don't really care for television that seems to think blood is an essential ingredient.  I think blood, like many bodily fluids, is best kept out of the line of vision.  Then there was all of the shooting.   A lot of shooting.  For an island that seemed to be limited in populations to those who were on the airplane that crashed, they kept shooting one another, yet there were always more people to shoot later.

Then there was some weird science fiction theme that confused me to no end.  Why were those people on the island anyway, and if they could come and go in a submarine, why was it that Jacob said they couldn't leave the island?!  Numbers, buttons, people filling out notebooks no one read, it was all...well, slightly frustrating.  I found myself wondering if the writers were giggling as they wrote saying, telling each other "they will be trying to figure that all all summer"!  It could be that I am a bit of a cynic.

Yet, somehow I was hooked.  I began to think Lost thoughts.  I wondered about what it might mean if we lost some of the structure and boundaries that we perceive help us feel safe, like laws and law enforcers.  I started wondering how civilized we really were under the surface.  I started thinking about the stories of redemption: the crack head kicking his habit and dealing with his issues, the cripple walking and dealing with his father issues, the woman who goes to unbelievable lengths to protect her mother, to have all of that literally blow up in her face.  What if we were given the opportunity work through our accumulation of junk, stored in our mental attics, because we had to?  How would that impact who we were?

Lost somehow got into my interior space and started rabbits all over the place.  It got a little old in the middle, as though Lost was LOST, and then found itself again in the end.  In the end was death of course.  It is not a subject we explore often, no one seems to be excited about talking about death.  Its the constant we can all depend on but even our hero Jack had a hard time coming to grip with his death.  Death is somehow the ultimate failure in our culture.  But Lost does this remarkable thing.  In the middle of a Catholic Church, Lost makes death a journey into light.  I liked the end.  I liked the light,  the love, and the reunion.  I liked to see the redemption complete.  I liked that in death there is no 'now',  that's a nice thought.  I liked the tenderness, the radical hospitality that accepts people as they are and lets them find their own way.  It was really satisfying.

But all of that is beside the point.  This is not a nice show for Christians to debate the meaning of life/death and resurrections.  For the most part, this was a show for those who don't even consciously know they are discussing such topics.  It was wild fantasy, science fiction, violent, thought provoking, romantic, crazy interpersonal relationships, with a polar bear or two thrown in for fun.  It was good versus evil, but it was hard to figure out who was good, and it was dealing with our issues and letting go, and it was belonging.  No one was trying to talk about God, but God was everywhere!  Isn't that amazing? 

Everytime I start thinking how important I am, or the Church is, I discover yet again that God is showing up in the wildest places, without any help from me.   I don't mean at all that God doesn't ask all of us to participate in this amazing grace, but it isn't our shoulders that need to bear the enormous weight.  God has this covered!  David Breen said, in a workshop about discipling communities, we are not supposed to be worrying about inovation as much as incarnation.  How do we find where God is at work and join?

I missed the boat on Lost.  I can't help but wonder if I had been following this years ago what conversations might have started.  I feel sure someone was listening better, and used the show as a spring board to talk about what redemption is, what light is, how God helps all of us reconcile our issues by providing us an advocate and a way home.  I wish it had been me, but its not too late.  I might need to be watching where God is working today.  Jump on that boat and see where the Spirit lead. 

Lost sums it up well,  Grace does too!  Tomorrow is a new day, and a new opportunity to watch, go, and connect with God.  I intend to be ready.

Its the most wonderful time.....

Ebenezer Scrooge just stopped by my office and bah humbugged her way down the hall.  She hasn't put up a Christmas tree in so long that when she decided to give her Christmas tree away to the church, she had no idea where she had stored it.  She used to be part of an ornament exchange but there was no point really, she never even took them home. This is not her most favorite time of the year.

Then there is the Elf on the Shelf woman down the hall.  She loves to jump out of bed and whip up a batch of Christmas cookies, run to the local community parade, then stop in at the Christmas party, and shop online to the wee small hours of the day.  She has been humming Christmas carols, thinking up amazing things for her elf to do to entertain the children, and sending out her Christmas cards which she got the week of Thanksgiving because she didn't want to get behind.  This is most definitely her favorite part time of the year.

I am at neither extreme, though I like this time of the year.  I am too busy to decorate as I once did, and the magic of the magic isn't really happening as it once did.  I do put up my tree and I like the opportunities that come along to be with family and friends for the holiday, but the frantic rush isn't appealing at all any more.

I blame this all on the Advent Conspiracy people and Michael Slaughter.  Once they forced me to deal with the strange way I was celebrating the coming of my Savior, they have left me with no traditions that fit any more.  I cannot go so far as to say I am sorry they have opened my eyes, but I do say that there has been a crisis of sorts created by the zeal to reclaim Christmas from consumerism. 

In this new place, everything seems to be optional and I find myself holding up various things saying, does this still fit?  Is it right to hang up all these wreaths when there are people who need water in the Sudan?  Is it good to make cookies to share, when I could be hardening arteries and pushing over-eaters to the edge?  Is it good to buy people gifts that they want....if its all about sacrifice and suffering?  What does one do now after one opens the very few, non-frilly, socially acceptable gifts, that used to take hours but now only 10 minutes.  After all, we have tried and it is just really hard to sit around talking about the ills and injustice of the world, and still feel that joy has come.

Let me be clear, I am all for reclaiming Christmas.  I am all for being sacrificial and sharing what I have with all who need.  I just want a little of the party to be seen as sacred too.  I want to send money to people in need, and I want to buy things for people I love, who will love receiving.  I want to feel the awe and wonder that  fills my heart on Christmas Eve, remembering once again the overwhelming love of God represented in this baby.  I want to look at the children around me, and wonder how God will be using these precious creatures to bring in the Kingdom.  Surely there is balance in all of this?

Maybe there isn't.  Maybe the non compliant part of me is resenting the call to grow up to the meat of life as a disciple moving on toward perfection and holiness of heart and life.  Perhaps there is still a little girl inside that doesn't want this to be about being poured out for the sake others.  Maybe I am still happier with being the center of my reality rather than surrender this place to the Author of my reality anyway.

It is still the most wonderful time, but perhaps it is about time that I give all that I am, all that I have, all that I dream into the hands of the Lord of my life.  Wonder how that might be? 

Tearing down the facade.

Yesterday, there I was minding my own business.  I was working hard for the money, bringing in the Kingdom, practicing the life of a faithful disciple, when boom!  Out of nowhere a demon possessed me and I found myself having a nuclear melt down with one of those people who holds a piece of my heart.  If you think I was stunned, you should have seen the reponse from my precious friend.

Here is the scary thing, this isn't the only time a demon has taken possession of my faculties and turn me from supergirl into lavagirl.  I wish it were not so, but I have to confess that the truth of the matter is that I do not release frustration and anger wisely at times.  I think I am surrendering these things, talking to God, trusting that all things are working to good.  It is certainly my plan anyway, and I am working round the clock to practice these spiritual disciplines more consistently.  Yet, when a number of unresolved issues begin to stick to each other, growing into an ever growing stack, I have notice that when people I love get too close to a heart button, the whole thing blows sky high.

I would like this not to go on being a problem.  I am quite used to apologizing, as in the natural course of any typical day I will have bobbed when I should have weaved, or zigged when I should have zagged.  I am even okay with strong emotions, as I find people of passion and energy are a joy to be with and get a lot of good stuff done.  I am even okay with having some touchy places in my heart, as it reminds me that I am completely dependent on God for healing, hope, and wholeness.  The part I would like to go away is the part when I pretend I am not hurting over the accumulation of unresolved 'opportunities'. 

If I could just say to people, "I am sorry, I am a bit on edge because my bucket is currently weighed down with the man who told me a delightful story that has no basis in truth, the lady who is teaching Bible study and tearing down my character in the same breath, the unknown outcome of projects near and dear to my being, and the nagging voice of my GPS Samantha, who never lets me forget that when she told me to turn left, I turned right", I think I would not have these volcanic eruptions.  It's all the pretending that I have it all together that is wearing me out.

Tonight I passed a friend in the hall and asked how he was doing.  He replied his typical response, no sense in complaining, and no one is listening anyway.  We think it's funny and we both laugh, but we are wrong.  It isn't funny, but it's very true.  No one wants to know what is going on inside our heads, or banging around in our hearts, they just want us to wear the facade, smile and reply "I am fine thank you, and you?"  We want that too, because after all it is the desire of our hearts to be fine, thank you.  I wish I always was, only I am only pretending sometimes.

I don't think I am the only one pretending, as I have some fairly volcanic friends from time to time.  I really believe it is not the stuff we have that is making us erupt, it is all the pretending.  If I could just respond to sincere inquiries about the status of my soul, I suspect I wouldn't be lavagirl any more.   Yes, I confess I might become whineygirl, or Mrs. NoFriends, but I wonder what life without the fake grin might be like. 

I think God likes me when I am frustrated.  I think He feels good about me saying, you know, this is not making me at all happy.  I even think when I say, "This too shall pass, and NOW would be very good" I am a beloved daughter, infinite in value and worth because they are freely given based on God's character and not my own.  If truly nothing separates us from the live of God in Christ Jesus as Paul wrote and the Church has embraced for 2000 years, then I want to stop pretending I don't have stuff.  I want to keep my hands open, and let God take my stuff as He often does, but I don't want to try to hide it under the 'mini me' that has this unbelievably bad way of making me nuclear. 

St. Paul says that now we see through the mirror dimly, then we shall see face to face.  I bet what we see one day is just the real us, made perfect through Jesus, being made holy.  Won't that be a fashion show!

Messy, Messy, Messy 2

I am tired of messy.   I am tired of mail that comes, and stays though no one will ever open it, or gain one insight from the hard work someone put in to develop, edit copy fold and stuff these documents.  This mail is placed carefully into a stack along with wedding invitations, or baby announcements, and catalogues, and the occasional newspaper until a new stack must be started.  One day, when my inability to endure it anymore meets a hole in the schedule, I will go through the stack, shaking my head over RSVPs that didn't get sent, baby gifts that are late, deep confusion over why I thought any of the rest was even stack worthy.

I  am really out of patience with people, and opinions, and those who clamor on about that which they admit they have no personal knowledge.  I am frustrated by the people who share opinions in vacuums, and even more irritated with people who re-share the opinions of people who have no real right to even hold an opinion in the first place.  I am desperately close to a full scale temper tantrum, in fact.  This is a different kind of stack and it needs sorting no less than the one of accumulated mail.

I remind my self that life is messy.  Faith is messy.  People are really messy.  There is no way to stay clean and be connected, and without connection there is no way to be the Body of Christ.  Darn it.

 I know what the organizer people say.  They say we should have one touch mail, and it stays or goes the moment we touch it.  This works by the way, if you happen to look at your mail every day.  If you are like me, this sometimes doesn't happen until the stack is threatening the neighborhood and a formal complaint has been made about you to the clutter police.  

I know what they say about people too.  We are supposed to remember everyone is a child of God, recognize that most of our annoyance is based on us not others, that we need to release all of that in Sabbath rest and start with a clean slate often.  Yes to all of that, it is all true.  But just as with the mail, often we don't realize we are hording emotions until, quite unsuspectingly, our heads spin around and pea soup come spewing forth. 

I think the bottom line for me is that means of grace are important, just like organizational systems are, but nothing will keep the world a neat and tidy place all of the time.  I need to journal more often, it is incredibly helpful in working out my thoughts on something.  Journaling more often wont keep me from being confused at times.  I need to go through the mail with more determination, but sometimes, in the midst of crazy weeks, the mail is going to stack up and there is going to be a pile.  All of those cards I bought, to let people know I was thinking of them, will not expire if my good intentions lead me to thinking more than sending.   I did think of them when I bought the card after all.  Is it essential they know that I was thinking of them this week?

It's just messy.  I will clean it up today, and tomorrow and a little more the next day.  Before you know it, there will be an attitude I failed to release, in fact I rolled up into it and got really comfortable.  There will be an RSVP that went unrsvped.   There will be an opinion that has no business being shared that will stumble into my line of vision, and I will have to stop and remind myself that I am not the opinion police. While everyone should be sitting around wondering what I think, very few are.  There will be no secret formula that makes it all neat and tidy all the time.  People who are have different issues altogether...just sayin.

So, good thing there is grace.  Grace is greater than all that messiness.  Grace is even greater than my need for order, and cleanliness, and good behavior.  Grace is even enough for me when a temper tantrum is right around the bend, and I have too many opinions of everyones opinion.  Jesus made it possible, the Spirit gives the ability, and the Father makes messy good.  Therein lies peace.  Good thing.

Passing on the mantle

I am not growing older.  I chose a number of years ago to stop having birthdays and elected to instead celebrate the anniversary of a birthday I enjoyed.  I stayed with 30 for sometime, then after enough time had gone by, I moved on to 35.  I think that this season recently expired and I am currently enjoying the celebration of birthday 39.  Amazing how many woman at my church are also celebrating the anniversary of their 39th birthday.  It must be a really fun year!

As anti aging as I am, I will begrudgingly admit that I have recently had the opportunity to watch someone who aged gracefully, lead beautifully, and retired again not in defeat or weakness, but with a sense of satisfaction and completion.   A year ago we were told we would have the leadership of a retired bishop for a one year interim until the next election.  There were opinions from the cheap seats in abundance.  This would be a lame duck year, nothing would be accomplished.  It would be one of the retired bishop that currently reside in our Conference and it would be awful.  It would be a wasted year.  HA!

One thing about the cheap seats, once their predictions are proven wrong, they are quick to disassociate themselves from all the others.  Who ever those others are.  Our retired bishop rode into town with all of the wisdom a long tenure in ministry ought to have conveyed.  We went from lame duck to visionary leader, and in just a few months change was already happening.  There were changes in leadership, vision, and purpose.  There was a quiet authority that listened well, decided firmly.  In one short year direction was begun that can be built upon for a hope and a future.  All this from a retired guy. 

A retired guy is still adding to the foundations for those who will follow.  In ten years from now we may not remember that this retired guy opened the door for health and vitality.  Who knows where we will be in twenty years, but if we are growing and making disciples and actively furthering the Kingdom of God, this guy will have been the catalyst that helped that happen.

 Legacy is a concept that has been overdone by the financial folks who want me to save all money for the next generation, when clearly the next generation should just go out and earn their own.  But legacy is not a gimmick, it is a means of grace for every single generation that follows.  As I type today I know I do so because there are women and men that have gone before me.  Good, bad, and the messy mix of both have helped to form and shape the way I think, the opportunities I have, my understanding of God, my understanding of worth, my perceptions of the world.  People I know, people I have only read about, people who influenced people who influenced me.  Legacy is the gift of aging, the mantle a means of grace. 

So, I am going to have to make room for that in my vision of life.  I may have to allow a few more year to pass under the anniversary radar to embrace that even I have the opportunity to contribute to the legacy for generations who will never even know I lived.  This is the power of the pond, ripples that move out from places no one remembers, and still impact life in the pool.  They don't happen when we are attempting to freeze time and miss the opportunity to make a splash.

What an awesome opportunity!  How could I miss this gift?!  Easily, who wants to be old?  Not me, that's for sure!  I can joyfully embrace the blessing of being a blessing though, of God using me in some small,  perhaps comic way, to share His love with the world.  I think that would make the wrinkles worthwhile.  But not the grey hair....good thing we can fix that.

Facing the Giants

I am a coward.  Truly, I am.  I have often dreamt of being brave, of odes written about my valor in battle, Goliath falling like a rock when I amble across the scenery.  But no, I would be the one sitting very quietly in the dark, hoping the someone will rescue me before the monster discovers me and eats me whole.  I hear they do that, and while I have never actually met anyone who could affirm this reality, I think it makes good sense to be cautious. 

So, Shakespeare blathering on about a coward dying a thousand death, a hero but once, is no doubt true.  The thing I was always pretty sure about though is that the hero goes down early.  Like those people in all of the murder mysteries...the program starts with them minding their own business, buying groceries, making phone calls.  Then they are dead.  Just one time, they went early and quick, and none of them appeared to me to be packed and ready to go!  Sure a coward has to do die a thousand deaths but comparatively, they are small and less dramatic.  The coward may be scared and panicking, but since they are at the back of the pack, in a tiny corner, under everything they can drag over themselves, they don't tend to go so early in the game.

But very seldom to you find people inspired by the coward.  There is much head shaking over cowards.  If I had a dime for every time some well meaning person asked me what I thought was in the darkness, I would be retired, hiding behind a huge fence, in some well lit cabin.  What do I think is in the dark?  My goodness people, do you never watch the news?  Or television?  Or read a book?  The dark is full of all those things that avoid the light.  Our parents know this instinctively.  It's why we all had curfews and had to get home before midnight.  Everyone knows th more dark, the more  out of control it is, turning well behaved teens into hormonal, out of control, savages.  Yet, they still shake their heads at me.  Where is the justice in that?!

Recently, I have been poking at one of the giants who lives inside my head.  I don't know his name, and yes of course all giants are masculine, but he has spent years messing with my vision.  Some amazing things percolate through my brain, you know.  Most should not be shared with even me, but every once in a great while there is deep profound good.  And while I am celebrating good, this giant fellow peeks his head out of whatever corner he lives in and he says, "you know, I don't think you should tell anyone that...it isn't really that good."   "Yes, it is," I always insist, because I am bossy by nature.  "Nope, I don't think it's that good.  You know, you are more of an amateur, a wannabe.  If you show anyone else that thing, they will be kind, but they will know that you don't do very good work.  You know how we want everyone to feel good about themselves, even though they aren't really all that good.  They will tell you that, to spare your feelings." " No sir," I always argue back.  "It's funny, or touching, or clever, or witty, or insightful." " No, no it's not.  I think you are being vain, yes, and more than that egotistical.  No one likes that.  You should stop.  Go back and organize something.  You are okay at that.  Not anything big though.  Sometimes you put things in the wrong places." 

I am a big grown up girl.  Why on earth haven't I murdered off this giant many years ago?  You know what happens without me finishing the dialogue.  In the end, I quit whatever I was doing, and I put it away, and if I happen to stumble across it later I think that wasn't bad, or else I think boy that's awful, how good it was that I didn't share it with anyone.  I don't know if it is good, bad or indifferent really, but I do know that this giant has had me eating out of his hands all of my life.  This is how a coward does it, runs and hides but never calls out that giant, face it down, and clear the ground so I can live in the Promised Land of the freedom that comes from being a child of God and a person of value. 

I am arming myself, and I am going to battle.  I am taking a huge flashlight, getting one of the enormous shield, and I am hiring a hit man to go with me.  Jesus and I are going to take on this giant and we aren't taking prisoners.  There will be no more placating, no more arguments.  Churchill once said that an appeaser goes on feeding a crocodile, hoping it will eat him last.  I am not feeding that giant anymore, and I am not waiting for him to die of starvation.  I am inviting Jesus to name him and send him on his way, I guess the herd of pigs is optional.  The son of man does set us free, and I am ready to be free for sure. 

You know, it occurs to me that many others have their own giants to face down.  Perhaps, like me, dying the thousand deaths seemed so much better than the one big death to self, to fear, in losing our lives, to find them in Christ.  So come on world, stand up with me.  Lets put on the armor of God, and allow God to make us able to stand still and fight, instead of hiding and running.  I am seeing the fall of a thousand giants, and a lot more fun for God's people.  But lets do it in the light, okay?