And Then…

I woke up in my warm house and cuddled with my kids enjoying the day off from school.  I thanked God for blankets and heat and a home to live in and kids to love on.

And then…I took a warm shower.  I thanked God for warm water and new beginnings.

And then…I ordered the breakfast of my choice at a restaurant and had a leisurely meal while talking to someone about the movement of the Holy Spirit in their life.  I thanked God for choice and Spirit.

And then…I drove to meet a friend who is Muslim and we discussed why she celebrates secular Christmas and it opened my eyes to God’s ever reaching hand…even through things that bother me, like secular Christmas.  My friend puts up a tree, places gifts under it, sets a gorgeous table, turns on Christmas music and invites her family and friends to join her in celebrating – celebrating family, friends, love and the present of presence, indeed she thanks God for the opportunity.  I thanked God that she celebrates and I am re-thinking all my convictions about “secular” Christmas.

And then…I drove to get gas, in the freezing cold with blustering wind and this man in line in front of me smiled so broadly and had so much Joy – and he really looked like Santa Claus.  And I smiled because he smiled.  I thanked God I could afford gas and that I have heat and that secular Christmas gives us Santa Claus and jolly smiles and laughter.

And then…I went to buy a pie and instead I bought cookies.  The pie was for fellowship after Thanksgiving worship tonight.  But you see we always have leftovers and I thought I can’t take leftover pie to anyone but cookies, cookies I can pack in bags and I can stop by the day laborer site in the morning and deliver cookies and coffee to those standing in the cold.  Yes day laborers even show up on Thanksgiving, they still meet and fellowship and hope.  I thanked God for cookies and perseverance.

And then…I got a call that one of my kiddos is not feeling well.  So I picked up fresh produce and other items for homemade chicken soup.  Not to be prideful but my chicken soup is yummy and healing.  And I thanked God for the ability to purchase healthy food and for a place to cook and serve, and for the memory my child will have, “my mom always made me chicken noodle soup when I didn’t feel well.”

And then…I met A&D.

A&D are recently homeless.  They were staying at a shelter, and then they got bed bugs so they moved into their car.  Then they got some help and they moved into a motel that rents rooms by the week, they have enough to stay this week.  A&D have 5 kids, 2 stay with them, twin boys age 5 who look like cherub angels.  A&D drove to my town from another because they want their kids to have the stability of the same school but don’t want anyone to know they are homeless now, they are embarrassed, they feel shame, they don’t want to ask for help.  They rely on food stamps to feed their family.  A&D work.  The twins asked my name and wanted to know what I am doing for Thanksgiving and told me they love their family and they love to play board games.

And then…it began to lightly snow and I began to pray.  I had just gotten money from the bank to give to my boys to go to the movies with friends and my offering for church tonight.  I asked A&D to wait 20 minutes for me, I would be back.  Would they trust me? Would they stay?   I rushed.  I took my offering money for worship tonight and I got a gas station gift card to the station they would pass on their way out of town.  I got a fast food gift card to a fast food place they will pass on their way to the motel they have for a few more nights.  I went back, they had trusted, they had faith, they had waited.  I gave them the gift cards and the movie money and I said Happy Thanksgiving.  They smiled like Santa, the two cherubs giggling and they asked God to bless me as God had blessed them.  They said Thank you and Happy Thanksgiving.  And we drove off together on the same road, in the same direction, praising the same God.

And then…I thought Thank you God, please protect A&D and their family and I burst into tears.  ThanksLiving does that.

About 4-5 years ago I read an article of which I can’t remember the title nor the authors name and the author spoke about ThanksLiving instead of Thanksgiving.  I embraced that thought and I began to ask God to open the eyes of my heart.  I asked for Christ to be in front of me, behind me, above and below me, within me feeling with my heart, hearing with my ears, seeing with my eyes and using my hands and feet.  God has answered my prayers.  Each moment of grace today led to the next.  Each blessing I received prepared me to open my eyes to the hurt of others.  A&D found me because I asked God to send them to me.  God does answer prayers.  God showed me each moment today what I have been given – shelter, love, friendship, warmth, choice – God wants those blessings for all God’s children.  

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and we will say Thank You.  May it please God we take each day, each moment and Give Thanks and make the choice for ThanksLiving. 

Waiting on the Sunrise

This morning I awoke before dawn with the Spirit insisting I get up and pray.  Daily I awake this early and I am normally content to cuddle deeper into the warm covers and say my prayers with my head still on my pillow in that beautiful space in between worlds.  Letting the prayers that began in my state of sleep continue as I begin to wake.  Words of the Spirit, placed on my heart, brought into the light of my conscience. 

This morning I was called to rise.  I found my favorite chair in my hubby’s office and I turned to stare out the windows and began praying and awaiting the sunrise.  There is something so sacred and holy about these moments before sunrise.  Imagining the long night of deep darkness, the unknowing, the inability to see, your hearing heightened trying to make sense of the deep silence and the slightest of noises and then suddenly there is a tiny shimmer of light on the horizon, so tiny you think you imagined it. 

 ‘I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.”  John 16:12

As I sit staring into the darkness, honing in on the glimmer of light I wonder what God might want to share with me in the dark, in the stillness, in the silence.  What can I not bear to know?  What truths are stretched just beyond my reach?  What knowledge is sitting at the foot of the light waiting to be revealed?  During the long night I have been given respite and rest, a chance to build my courage to hear God.  Sunrise brings awakening, shining forth those many things waiting to be known and beckons us step into the light.  To act, to speak, witnessing daily miracles in those moments of gratitude and grace, to share our story, to share our place in God’s story.

“Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.”  C. S. Lewis

So I close my eyes and continue my prayers and then quick open them again to see.  And behold it was not my imagination, the tiny shimmer is still there and then it begins to grow.  There is warmth and a knowing.  A new day is beginning.  The light is shining forth bringing hope and peace, new knowledge and new work.

I love this time of day, this peace and contentment.  I did absolutely nothing to invoke this miracle.  I sat in the darkness, I prayed and I waited.  And the gift of a new day is brought to me.  I open my hands and I lift my arms and my heart proclaims, “Thank You!”

 

 

Standing In Line

Think of your local food pantry.  It is a place where a person goes if they can't afford to purchase food.  If I asked you to draw a picture of a person you imagine you would see in line at the food pantry, who would you draw?

Yesterday I went to our local food pantry to drop off a trunk load of donations.  A trunk load sounds like a lot.  That is until you drive to the pantry and you see the line of people waiting for groceries.  Then that trunk load seems like 1 fish and 5 loaves of bread and you start praying to God for a miracle.

As I passed from the front of the food pantry where clients are lined up to the back where I would drop off my donation I saw a woman and she looked like me.  A little thinner, a little sadder, her hair a little longer.  I caught her eye.  I began to smile, to approach and speak to her.  She lowered her eyes, very slightly turned and lowered her head just enough that her hair now covered the side of her face I could see.  She hid from me.  And I began to pray for her.  I prayed she would let me speak a kind word.  I think she prayed I would cease to notice her as she carried her two bags to her car.  I knew her two bags meant she is alone, only enough groceries for one person.

I didn't cease to notice her, but I did walk past her with my smile ready just in case.  She side glanced at me twice as she quickened her pace.  I knew she wanted to be left alone and I respected the moment.  You see she is me and I am her.  She is my mother and my daughter and my Sister.  And she is hungry.  I need to see her.  I need to notice her.  I need to reach out to her.  I need her to know she is me, I am her mother and her daughter and her Sister.  I need her to know she leads me, she shows me the Truth.  I need her to know that her courage to stand in line to receive 2 bags of groceries of which she has limited or no choice - it all depends on donations and what can be found on the shelves - builds my courage.  Her hiding stirs my boldness.  Her voice inspires my voice.  She is me and I am her and together we speak.

The next time we stand in line at the grocery store, our carts filled with food of our own choice, as we start to complain about the cost, the line or the customer in front of us; let us remember we complain from a place of privilege.  If we are in a grocery store with food in a cart we are privileged.

 Imagine again the line at the food pantry and this time place yourself in line.  Imagine being hungry, with no choice but to stand in a line at a food pantry.  Imagine filling out forms that declare you are poor enough to receive this food.  Imagine you are handed a bag of groceries.  Imagine if you would want to look into the eyes of the one who serves you or if you would slightly turn and lower your head and make eye contact with the floor instead.  Imagine as you walk back to your car, or to the bus, the prayer you might shout to God from your heart.

May it please God that we pray that prayer.  Pray it loud and pray it fierce for yourself and for your brothers and sisters who hunger.

30 Days of Gratitude: Day 20

On facebook during November many people post each day something for which they are grateful.  I enjoy reading the moments of gratitude and for me it is a peek into how grace is shaping their lives.

I have been craving writing again.  My fingers literally itch.  My life became very busy this past year what with the ordination, official deployment to a church in transition and then getting back into the workforce (no simple task for a stay-at-home-mommy of 12 years).  For a person who lives by the rule of organized chaos it’s been much more chaos and much less organized!  I am starting to get my groove back and for me that means adding back in my workouts (ugh!) and picking back up the pen/keyboard (thank you Jesus!)

Baby steps.  Today a 1 mile walk and a Grateful post.

Today I am grateful for the “Janie”.  What in the world is a “Janie”?  “Janie” is a female clergy insider word for removable clerical collar.  In other words I can pretend I am a superheroine and in a flash I can go from preacher girl to mommy girl and back to preacher girl.  In the life of this mommy deacon this is very important to me.

We all wear many hats and we have to choose when and how we wear them.  God called me first as a wife, then as a mommy, then as a deacon.  I don’t wear my deacon clothes on a date with my hubby, he wants to talk to his wife and he doesn’t need me to be his minister.  I don’t wear my deacon clothes when I go to my kid’s school functions.  They want me to be their mommy, not their pastor.  I wear my oh so trendy deacon clothes (have you seen female clergy shirts and albs?) when I am doing deacon work.  Today I have some deacon and mommy work.   This morning I am visiting the homeless shelter as they have rolled out the cold weather shelter and I am dropping off some travel size toiletries.  I have lots of parishioners and friends who travel and they always bring me back goodies from their hotel rooms.  Now that’s love!  Then this is American Education Week and my 4^th grader has his “living museum” today.  He has chosen to be Martin Luther King, Jr. and I am blessed to be able to see his presentation. 

Me:  “Why did you pick Martin Luther King, Jr. for the living museum.”

Little R: “Because he was a preacher and his Daddy was a preacher.  And because he believed in human rights and I want to learn more about human rights.”  (Can you hear my heart breaking open?)

Hubby:  “He believed in civil rights, son, he fought for civil rights.”

Little R:  “No, it was human rights.”

I agree with Little R on this one, human rights and we as humans aren’t always so civil to our fellow brothers and sisters. 

After his presentation I am off to preach at Noon Eucharist.  Can’t wait to see how he inspires me!

So, mommy deacon that I am the “Janie” is my lifesaver.  I can whip on the collar and be deacon, whip off the collar and be mommy and whip on the collar and be preacher girl.  Ah, organized chaos is back in the house.  Thanks be to God for the “Janie”.  

Truth be told we all wear many hats and we wear them all the time, even when they aren’t visible.  May it please God that our Light shines through all our hats and we work and play and minister to one another at all times and in all places.

“Any religion that professes to be concerned with the souls of men and is not concerned with the slums that damn them, the economic conditions that strangle them, and the social conditions that cripple them is a dry-as-dust religion.”  Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.