Comfort

As a child,I can remember laying in the sunshine that came in the big picture windows in the living room. I would lay there on my tummy reading Sunday morning comics when I had successfully pried them away from a sibling. My brother liked to read the whole paper intact, I just wanted the comics and the Parade Magazine. Several of us enjoyed that same spot, twice as warm there as any place in the room. By the time I was in high school my brother bought his own paper and Sunday mornings I was in church, but I remember the spot and the struggle with great fondness.

My sister and I shared a small room growing up. There were no private places in my small home, and finding a place of your own required creativity. There was an old dresser sitting at a right angle, across from the heat vent in the corner of the room. If you sat with your back to the dresser and your feet on the heat vent you were almost invisible from the door way. This is where I would read. For hours and hours I sat in my own little world with Trixie Belden and Nancy Drew, Five Little Peppers and How They Grew, Little Women, Donna Parker and Anne of Green Gables. Later, my companions changed to Tolkien, DE Stevenson, Georgette Heyer, Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, Dorothy Sayers and more. Still, for as long as I lived at home, long after my sister had grown up, married and moved on, I sat in that corner, imagining I was all alone in the world.

I was haunted as a child by demons in the dark. Many nights I would wake terrified, at first needing to be comforted, later learning some comfort techniques of my own. Many nights as I would lay in bed with my heart pounding, sure that at any moment one of the many terrors that would dominate my thoughts was about to overtake me, I would imagine the drive up the driveway to my grandparents home. Their driveways was dirt, filled with many ruts and holes, half a mile long. After eight hours in a station wagon with my family, when my dad made the turn, my heart leaped. Even today I can describe the drive, the mailbox, the pond and the trees and the barns. That drive took me away from fear and brought me to a different place, filled with adventure and belonging.

I am confident that the need for comfort is the essence of the God given need for relationship. I believe God is aware of our need to feel that sense of security and safety and wants us to do so. I think we find comfort in habits and behaviors and even in relationships in ways that may have started from a genuine need and the best we could do at the time, and stayed to become subconscious responses that keep us from making wiser choices now. For example, a have a child who processes stress or boredom or even deep thought by twirling his hair. I would ask where on earth this habit comes from, but I have noticed that when I am stressed or agitated or trying hard to think of a solution to a problem, I am constantly rearranging my hair! I know where he got it, I just really didn't notice that I do it, until I noticed that he did.

I am confident that God is not in the heavenly realms grieving over my hair therapy, or my son's either for that matter. Unfortunately, this isn't the only behavior I have developed over the years to cope. Some of them are more destructive to me personally, and interfere with my relationship with God. I am reminded of the story of Jacob leaving Laban's home and Rachel's removal of her father's household gods. She must have known the God of Israel, but she depended on the comfort she had from those life long sources. It seems like a silly story until I reflect on the damage some of my own household gods have done.

I still enjoy the paper in the sunshine, I still prefer to read all curled up away from others and I still sometimes lay in bed in the still quiet hours and the darkness and remember my grandparents driveway. I guess I will go on messing with my hair from time to time, but I am praying that God will gently pry the household gods from my hands and remind me that He is my comfort and strength, a very present help and trouble and more than enough.

Dust in the wind

Whew. Boys and Girls, my life has been a whirlwind of activity but very little creativity. This is not so good. In fact, I believe it is negatively impacting my brains ability to keep track of one billion miscellaneous bits of trivial information, as I once did so well. I find myself sitting still when someone says to me, "I will see you later" thinking where is it I am going that they expect to see me. I have had mornings when in a cold panic I have searched my calendar, you know that tiny print on your cell phone, and wondered if the nagging thought at the back of my mind is correct and I am supposed to be somewhere. I can't imagine myself in a position where my presence is of importance to anyone but I am aware that when some of have been denied it, they get a little squirrelly. Some even a might testy. I have had to look into the witness protection program a time or two.

You know, we have had an ice storm. I don't want to hear all of the places in the world where an ice storm has occurred because I know there are many. I don't want to hear how others have gone without power for six weeks when I was only out two week. In fact, I don't to be reasonable or rational about this at all. In fact, I think I can now safely report that I have failed disaster response 101. I am praying I do not have to repeat the course. You know how God does that at times, allows you a "do over" to get it right. I don't want to get it right. I don't want to play 'find the matches in the dark', 'how many lamps can the generator light' or 'cooking pizza on the grill' any more.

So, I was crabby over the power thing, then we got into disaster relief. Yes, there was a disaster to relieve actually. I have never in all of my life seen as many trees down for as long a distance as we have had. Trees opened like blooming onions, limbs hanging, root balls fully exposed. It really does look like a war zone, but I am tired of that example. So we set about getting that fixed up. This means volunteers, tractors, chain saws, trailers, four wheelers, food, front running, evaluation and some kind of sense of direction. Guess how many of these skill sets I have? Even the food one is marginal.

Now I am even more irritable and I am supposed to be doing ministry. Just for your information and for purposes of clarity, this is where my definition of ministry comes in handy. I think ministry is loving God's sheep, whether they deserve it or not because God has loved me in abundance. Even when I am crabby. Especially then, I should think. I have been trying hard, I truly have, only I suspect I have failed mightily. So why is this true, I wonder.

I don't know for sure mind you, but I think it has a lot to do with the lack of play time in my life. I have worked hard, and I like to work hard, but without a little nonsense, fun with creativity, play time with buddies, I think I am losing my passion. In fact, I think I have taken my heart right out of the picture and been using solely my head and some of my muscles. I am trying to do things well, when I am not sure what I am doing and the only affirmation I can count on is that there will be more to practice on tomorrow. I am trying, through the sheer force of my personality and determination, to make what I do not know how to do be done well. I think it's getting done but it's really leaving some scorched earth in it's wake. I am quite confident that my Eternal Father, who loves me so much that He is content to let me get all spun up in a whirling dervish, or whatever that whirling thing might be, until I am angry and empty and devoid of feeling and say to me, "Come here, child. We have talked about this! You are supposed to take time to watch the water, dance to something peppy, write something ridiculous. Why do you trust Me so little?" I dunno. I am so silly at times.

I am reminded today that we truly are only dust in the wind. The Creator of the Universe can handle things if I were to take an hour or day or even a whole week off. And while I believe we are expected to use our gifts to serve, the Sabbath rest was given to restore our souls.

I am going to play some this week. I am going to find joy in the sunshine, I am going to watch the water a little and I am going to write something goofy. Oh wait, I just did. Check.

Milestones

We have company at church. A youth group has arrived to help us clean up some of the mess left by the ice storm. They are a good group, their leadership is organized and easy to work with. They are working hard and really require very little care. Food three times a day, a place to shower, a place to sleep. Not very demanding.

They happened to arrive in my birth week. This time of the year always makes me so reflective about life in general, my life in particular. Not really so much about what it has been about, or even what I have accomplished, but how I see it each year when the anniversay of my birth arrives. I would be much more about accomplishments but once I am done with them, I am truly done. I dont think I could point to many accomplishments outside of my children because most I don't remember, and my children never let me forget.

Our guests are a timely reminder to me that my life has changed significantly since the days when I was a member of a youth group. I was a deeply dissatisfied youth, always digging for the bottom line, always doubtful, always skeptical yet never abandoning the search for something more. I had many friends and I was involved in lots of activities including my church, but I was so hungry for more. More of everything, more love, more time, more stuff, more talent. Like the Greedy in Raggedy Ann, I could never get enough. There is a very pretty young lady with the group who seems, based on the very surface and superficial interaction I have had with her, to be the exact opposite. She seems to be fairly content. Content to work, to content to play, content to talk, content to be quiet. Her younger brother seems to be very much the same. It is no longer a grief to me that I did not have this experience, and every year that I look back I am more filled with gratitude that God is satisfying my soul in new ways all the time. Instead I wonder, where will these two go, when they start so much farther along the journey than I did.

I think I have changed very little on the inside. I am still the same little girl who used to make deals all the time with her siblings to get what she wanted. I am still the "it could never happen to me" teenager who thought I was invincible and nothing major could ever go wrong. I am still the new mother who marveled at the wonder of birth and was stunned that the world didn't stop the day I had a son. I am still the hustling bustling twenty something who cannot understand why everyone who wants something has to get in line in front of me.

The change in me is more about vision. It's more about a shift in the center. I am not far from center, let me be quick to confess. But I am not dead center as I once was. I have begun enoying life a little more because I require from it a little less. My job is just my job, not who I am. My friends are my friends but not my self worth. My children, God bless them, are their own people, not a refection of my hopes and dreams. I see life I hope a little more how God sees life, it is what it is, but not all there is.

I am glad for our visiting clean up crew. They helped me this year celebrate the touch of God in my life, a definte mark that evidences the fruit of the Spirit, alive in me. Thanks be to God.

Lessons from the Dark

My Steelers had just won the AFC and were heading to the Superbowl. My mother was wrapping up her visit to Kentucky. I had a great time painting pottery at Girls Night Out and I was standing in my kitchen with a cookie in one hand and a glass of milk in another when the power went out. I mean, blink and it was gone. I stood still for a long time. I mean a long time. I mean I didn't even eat the cookie.

I do not like the dark. I have never liked the dark and I have never overcome the panic I feel when I am left in the darkness. I fill it with every monster I can recall from childhood. I kept waiting for my eyes to adjust and in the meantime tried not to move so the monsters couldn't find me. After a lifetime, finally enough moonlight filled the room so I could find my way down the hall way to my room where I could wake up someone and have them be scared with me.

Nearly two weeks later, Superbowl Trophy in hand, I am finally out of the dark. I have had moments of light of course, but for the most part it has been dark and it has been chaotic. Schedules have been non existent, work has been off the charts and though I have run fast and hard, I have stayed behind. I have stayed weary and I have dreamt the most vivid things. In fact, I have been typical of many who endure a disaster. I just hate being typical. I had complained for several days about the room spinning and the floor feeling like it was moving under my feet. I cannot tell you how irritated I was to discover this too is a typical response to stress. More typical. How very humbling.

The world has changed. The trees are sad, they are broken and twisted. Many of them are dead, there has been much too much damage to save them. Many more look naked and deformed with tops missing, limbs gone. There are utility people everywhere. There are new poles going in all over the places, wires that for weeks have been resting on the ground are being reconnected or replaces. The sound of generators has been replaced with the sound of chainsaws. Yards filled with fallen trees are being cleared and the debris is lining the roadsides. We aren't recovered, but we are recovering and there is a sense of survival when people talk these days. We will be limping for sometime to come. There is much yet to glean from such moments in life, but for now here are a few things I have learned:

Such times truly to bring out the best in people, and also the worst. I have seen grown men cry as they shared opportunities to help others and I have seen people who were so self absorbed that I wanted to scream. I wanted to slap them silly but one is not allowed to confess such things. Why some people radiate good stuff and others do not is more than I can answer. I just know it is true.

Our minds are incredible filters that help us to process enormous amounts of stress and frustrations, fears and failings. God has wired us with His thumbprint and it evidences itself in so many ways. We dream away stuff we cannot deal with in our waking hours and we find wholeness in rest. That's amazing.

God wastes nothing. In the midst of devastation, He uses clean up crews to awaken the interest of people who have left the church years ago. Even in injury, God brings healing. This is grace. How good is that?! Even in death, I saw the gift of new life in a family who lost a mother but found that their needs would be supplied.

Even in hopelessness, a small ray remains. God nurtures the seeds of hope inside of us, so even when we feel that no hope remains, somehow we find that is has. Even in complete darkness, if you stand still long enough some tiny bit of light will find it's way in. I know this for a fact. And if you will wait for it, trusting in the darkness you will find light, you can eat the cookie. It's all about light, and a little about cookies.

Have I mentioned I am a Steelers fan?

I am beyond a Steeler fan, in fact. Like all true Steeler football fans, we are not just enthusiastic about our team, we are truly fanatical. We know when the draft is and we know who we are anticipating adding to the team. We know when training camp is, where it is and what days we can go and get pictures. Steeler fans will travel almost any distance to see a Steeler game, often showing up in Atlanta and Cincinnati and Tenessee and every where else the Steelers visit on the road, dressed in black and gold, carrying their Terrible Towels and fuzzy team logo blankets and settle in for a game as if they were in their own back yard.

I once visited Cincinnati to see a Steeler game and while our tickets were in the nosebleed section and surely should have been for Cincy fans, we were hardly the only black and gold fans in the stadium. At one point when the team was driving the ball down the field the crowd seemed to be singing in one voice that echoed around the stadium "here we go Steelers, here we go". We had with us a friend who is really more a Philadelphia fan that a Steeler Fan. He spent most of the game wondering if we would get beaten for wearing all that black and gold. Strangely enough no one messes with Steelers fans very often, unless of course it is another Steeler fan. I think it's something about the way large groups of them keep appearing, but it could be the zeal they project in competition.

They have had a fairly decent season, certainly some highs and lows but currently it is all glorious. Today they became the AFC champions and will go on to the Superbowl. This is such good news that I am certainly doing the happy dance and feeling so proud of my hometown. I had to leave the game about half time to go to a worship service for a Chrysalis weekend. I truly felt torn about where to be, at home cheering on my team, at church supporting our teens. So I compromised and I went to worship but I brought my cell phone and my wonderful family sent me text messages and kept me informed about what was happening.

I understand this is definitely cheating. I was not fully engaged in worship, I was very much distracted and my prayers were extremely focused on discussing my desire that the kids were having an amazing weekend as well as my team scoring a lot and winning the game. As we entered communion time I began to feel somewhat convicted and tried to focus on the service only my phone buzzed and I just really wanted to know what it said. It was probably several minutes after the game was over and we had won before I felt I could legitimately look and not feel guilt for being unfocused.

It has nothing to do with first loves. I am confident of this. I love God first and foremost and football is not in competition with God for time and priority in my life. I make it through the off season without too much withdrawal. I will admit to reading the hometown paper on line and follow what is happening with the team but not every day. I have missed some games because of other events and I have stopped going into mourning until Wednesday the weeks we don't win. I only wear black and gold during the games though I do drink out of my Steeler coffee mug year round. I am trying to manage the mania.

Tonight I might have failed. I wore my black and gold to worship, I confessed my sins of distraction during communion but I also interceded for my team. I did not check my phone during the prayer for the kids and the leadership but the minute we said amen I was on it. When we had won it was very hard not to interrupt worship to give thanks publicly. I would like a little credit. I was present after all. I greeted all of the kids with a hug and told them I was praying for them at the right moment. Perhaps not single minded focus, but partial credit for faithfulness.

Is God a Steeler fan? How could He not be?! I suspect God is a fan of all of His children and perhaps wishes we would take some of that passion and apply it to our relationship with Him. Where one day we might spontaneous erupt with 'here we go Jesus here we go'. I think God would be honored if one day at a Steeler game, I missed a play or two because I was checking my cellphone to see if worship touched someones heart and they came forward to make a public confession of faith. A real touch down with eternal implications.

I am not giving up my Steelers, and I am not going to feel less passionate about the game, but I do want to take some of that passion and carry it over to my walk with God. I want to truly yearn for time with Him, to be excited about His kingdom that never has an off season. God always wins that Superbowl, and if we just choose to play for the home team, so do we.

Not to say that I am biased but, it will be real nice if that same kind of victory could spill over in two weeks for my Steelers!

The Growing Rumble

I have for sometime, as long as I can remember, had this feeling of dissatisfaction over the state of the union within the Mainline Church. I have felt a sense of outrage at the clergy on the whole and the mess the churches seemed to be in. I have met other devout believers who's solution was to leave the Mainline Church and to become part of the non-denominational churches, because they had a higher standard and encouraged others to adopt a higher standard for themselves. Sure they saw these churches as having the potential to be legalistic or personality driven. They knew there were things they had to be careful about, and were. But they found in the Mainline Church a blandness of keeping the status quo with no standards that might be divisive and confrontational so that they found it was better to take the risks and go someplace that fed them, rather than stay where they had always been and starved to death. For a long time, I agreed with them.

When I ended up in a Mainline Church after a move to Kentucky, I was both frustrated for myself and embarrassed to tell my friends where I was in church. I tried not to be in a Mainline Church, trust me. I hauled my family to every church in Western Kentucky when after months of trying ever flavor and variation we could find, my son chose our church because they had a boy scout troop and he wanted to be a boy scout. I stayed in the church though I found the worship flat and the spirituality shallow. I kept wondering why on earth I was in this church. I prayed with intensity that God would change the Church and make it a light on a hill and a witness to the community or He would move me. There were moments when I bailed on the light on a hill and just pleaded to be moved.

I fell in love with the people there. They are darling wonderful people and in them I often saw my Father's eyes, heard His voice and felt His presence. It was enough mostly to sustain me, though often I was angry that there wasn't more. There were several moments that confirmed every judgement I had every made about church leadership and I was finding all of my nourishment came from Sunday School and folks outside the church. Thank God for CFO and the Emmaus community, I might never have found deeper waters.

Several years ago, I accepted a call to ministry and went to work at my Mainline Church. I struggled with these like a tiger, confronting my own frustrations with the church and the responsibility to support it. I found myself distancing myself ever further from it's leadership and judging it with even more severity. I was lost and wondering if I had heard right or had jumped into the fire from the frying pan. I wanted to be a part of the process that God uses to call His people further in, higher up. I wanted the church to be a part of the process too. I wanted the church to be the church but I kept running into people who preferred to play church.

My first trip to the Annual Conference was enough to send me home to pack my clothes and move as far away as I could. It was a miserable experience, I was sure God had never been invited to an Annual Conference. I know God is everywhere and I know that nothing can ever seperate us from the love of God and for this I am very thankful. Conference is the closest I wantto get to testing this.

Gradually, in the Mainline Church, I began to find others like me. First it was one voice here and there, then there were more and now, the voices are beginning to be loud enough to be a hum of change. I used to be so shocked when I heard another voice talking about discipleship, hungering for more, moving from the scriptural to the spiritual, sacraficial, sacramental. I would stop in my tracks, and in my excitement, wish like Peter to build a shelter and stay forever. I am still so happy when I find someone who's hearts cry is for more of God but I am less shocked. I am sure God is calling up many and how exciting to be allowed to see such a wonderful time of renewal and remembering.

There are more and more within the Mainline Church. Many more that God is calling home again. There is a pride in the heritage given us by the faithful who have gone before us, and a realization that we do stand on the foundation they made strong. There is a hunger to both know more of God and share more of God with others. There is a great deal of interest and concern over how we share our faith with others and invite them in than I have heard for a long time. We are discussing worship and education and resources with an eye for excellence. Those who are being successful are sharing their best practices and many are taking advantage of the opportunity to learn.

We are far from on the home stretch. Some days I could just cry over those who want to keep the status quo, even though it is the path to certain death. I had someone tell me today why it was they couldn't do work that could mean turning their church around. They are busy and they have grandchildren. Gosh. I guess I didn't have an answer for that.

Still, if you stop and listen you will hear it. It's not quite a force yet, but it is growing in momentum and by the grace of God, I believe it is going to become a climate change. One day very soon, it is my prayer that those in the non- denominational churches will feel less seperates us than currently. I pray that our discipleship process is second to none and what people see when they look at Mainline Churches are transformed lives; A light on a hill, the hands and feet of Christ to the world around us.

I am not quite to proud yet of my Mainline Church, but I am closer every day. I have great hope for what God will do. I hope He will let me be one of the noise makers, no matter how small. I want my grandchildren and their children to stand on the solid foundation this generation will secure for them. The sound of God's people crying out for God's face.