If I Should Speak

If I told you my story
You would hear Hope that wouldn't let go
And if I told you my story
You would hear Love that never gave up

We all have a story.  It's multi layered and multi faceted.  Turn the prism and discover something new you might never have known.  You can't rely on a headline or a news bulletin or a quick snippet.  I've said to my kids "There are 4 sides to every story...your side, the other person's side, the truth somewhere in the middle and the TRUTH aka God's version of our stories."  God whose knowledge crosses all barriers and borders, who is our Creator, Redeemer and LifeGiver, who weaves in and throughout time.

When I was in formal discernment for my calling to ordination in the church I sat with a group of folks who sort of knew me.  I definitely thought I knew me.  As we continued to meet and let the Holy Spirit lead our conversation I realized how much of my own story I didn't know, didn't remember, had chosen to forget or didn't feel able to speak about.  As we prayed and spoke I shared parts of my story I had never even told my husband.  I had to go home and say "We need to talk, I need you to know what I remembered today that I have never shared before, even with myself."

This is my story, this is my song...

It opened up my heart and my mind.  If I didn't know all of my story how could I ever know all the nuances of another's story?  And, further more, I discovered my story only made sense when placed in scripture.  I've never really fit in anywhere, with any group of folks, always sitting on the margins, until you open up the bible.  I discovered my history is HIStory.  I make sense when I read about Deborah, Hannah, Rachel and Leah, Ester and Jacob, Moses and Aaron, the woman at the well, Mary and Mary and Phoebe.

It is my prayer that we take the time to pray, to discern, to listen to the small quiet whisper of God revealing Truth into our stories.  Taking time to share our stories, hear our stories, live into our stories; opening up our lives and shedding light on God's hope, love, mercy and justice weaving in and out of our stories.

If I should speak then let it be
Of the grace that is greater than all my sin
Of when justice was served and where mercy wins
Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in
Oh to tell you my story is to tell of Him

Reclaiming Sabbath

It’s been over 3 years since I have written anything besides a sermon or church newsletter article.  For many of us writing or journaling, doodling or musing with words and pictures is sacred space to be with God.  Writing was a way for me to open myself to the Holy Spirit, to meditate on scripture, to contemplate the ever changing world.

Why the stop?  Could it be the giving up of my Sabbath?  Did I allow the urgency of the world to overtake me and convince me I had to keep moving, and moving and moving…until…

Until I became cranky with my husband, grouchy with my children, hit the wall emotionally, spiritually and physically.  NO, I kept moving, and moving, and moving…until…

Until I began to self medicate and motivate with caffeine and sugar, gaining over 25 pounds in 6 months.  A sure sign that I was turning to food instead of prayer and Sabbath to stay awake, to keep moving, to keep working.  NO, I kept moving, and moving, and moving…until…

Until I began to realize my mantra was “I’m too busy”, “I can’t”, “Not now”, “Give me 10 more minutes”, “I have to get this done,” all phrases spoken to God, family and friends.  Of course, my 4 jobs and multiple nonprofit leadership roles and commitments were meant to provide for and serve God, family and friends, great justification to say NO, keep moving, moving, and moving…until…

Until I sat down during an unexpected and unplanned time of vacation.  6 months prior I had begun shedding responsibilities.  I was self-aware enough to realize I was off kilter and speeding through life at such a pace that I was no longer feeling fully present or fully alive.  I resigned from a job and nonprofit, I began saying “No” to new projects and releasing myself from work that was never intended to be mine.  Small victories, but not enough.  I hadn’t realized what a huge hole of “busyness” I had dug for myself.   I was taking small steps leading back to God. 

Until I sat down and realized that for all my good intentions “busyness” had overtaken “being” with God.  No wonder I was restless in the midst of activity.  Finally sitting down and immersing myself in quiet and prayer I realized what I already knew.  I had given up my Sabbath.  I was tired.  Actually, I was exhausted.  I had exhausted my body, my mind and my spirit to such a point that I knew my short vacation was not going to reboot me this time.  I realized that caffeine and sugar could no longer sustain me and in fact were hurting me and adding to my exhaustion.  I had exhausted myself to such a point that I no longer had words.  Words to write, to speak, to convince myself to keep moving, and moving, and moving. 

In my exhaustion all I can do is reach for the clothes of Jesus.  I’ve spent all I have and am using the last of my energy to reach, reach out to Jesus and hope, hope to be made well.

“And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him. ²⁵Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. ²⁶She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. ²⁷She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, ²⁸for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.” ²⁹Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. ³⁰Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” ³¹And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, ‘Who touched me?’” ³²He looked all around to see who had done it. ³³But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. ³⁴He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”  (Mark 5:24-34)

In my exhaustion all I desire is to be still, be quiet and listen earnestly for God to call my name and tell me to stand again.  All I pray for is to be nourished by God’s Word and live into the invitation to be fully alive and speak and move faithfully through this world.

⁴¹He took her by the hand and said to her… “Little girl, get up!” ⁴²And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about…”  Mark 5:41-42

Moving forward I have reclaimed the Sabbath God set for all of us.  I have set my intention to move towards healing and away from striving.  Tomorrow ends my vacation and I’m moving slowly back into working. The urgency of the needs of the world have not become any less urgent.  I realize the need to work hard and diligently for the respect and dignity of all people and will continue to advocate for justice for ALL.  And, I realize the work I do is only accomplished with God’s help. 

My prayer for us all is a Blessed Sabbath, a healing, and the ability to answer the invitation to get up and walk about, walking towards God and living fully alive, working towards the Kingdom of God being our truth and reality.

Beloveds,

Your faith has made you well;

Be healed

Take my hand

Get up!

Walk about

Walk towards me, let us go forth in peace!

Amen.  Blessed Sabbath.

When the Lights go Out

There is something about bedtime prayers.  Now on one hand I could say my kids prolong prayers to delay the inevitable truth that it is bedtime and yes, you must go to sleep.

On the other hand there is something so sacred about sitting together with the lights dimmed, the house quiet and being gathered together intentionally - just to be in God's presence.

As a kid I was taught "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, if I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take."  I said this prayer each night. 

As parents The Hubby and I decided to say prayers with our kids before they could ever understand what we were doing.  I began to say the same prayer I grew up with.  However, as a new parent I stumbled over this prayer.  We learned a new version, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, guide and guard me through the night and wake me with the morning's light."

Each night my children still say this prayer and now we have added "Blessings".  We ask God to bless others.  And then one of our children added "Extra Special Blessings".  These are our prayers of petition for those we feel need extra prayers, are carrying extra burdens, who are going through extra hard times.  Then we end with the Lord's Prayer.

Last evening one of my children during Extra Special Blessings stated "Mom, we need to pray for single parents.  I think single parents have the hardest job ever.  I just don't know how they do it.  I mean look at how hard you work for us every single day and you have help when you get tired or really frustrated.  It's hard work, Mom.  I mean, what if you were a single mom and you had to have surgery?  That means your job wouldn't pay you, you couldn't feed us.  And you would need time to get better and you wouldn't be able to keep up with all the laundry and making dinner.  You probably couldn't even put us to bed.  Who helps Moms who are sick, Mom?  Who?"

Who indeed.  It opened up a good discussion about how hard it is to be a parent, even harder to not have a helpmate.  We talked about how you really need your family and friends to support, love and help you.  And then I could ask my child the question - "Who indeed do you think is the greatest helper for single parents?"  "God!  God is always there.  But Mom, God doesn't do the laundry, just sayin'."

When the lights go out we have an opportunity to sit in the darkness with others and ask the hard questions.  We might not have answers.  We might have answers that beg more questions.  These conversations are sacred.  We become Listeners.  We give the gift of our presence.  We allow time to explore the deepest thoughts of other's hearts.  There is something about the intimate darkness of nighttime prayers that allow us to reveal hard questions, hurts and sorrows and open them up for each other.  We can sit together and just listen.  We can sit together in the presence of God. 

May you hear each other's prayers this evening and always.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.  And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.  Romans 8:26-27  (NRSV)

The Gift is from God

A couple of weeks ago I went out to check our Hope Chest for more coats.  I had a little boy in need of a winter coat and some gloves.  God is good all the time and what did my wandering eyes find but a sturdy, clean, warm coat just the right size.  Thanks be to God.

It is easy for me to recognize these gifts from God.  The gifts that arrive on my doorstep or desk that I have the privilege of delivering to someone else.  It has been more than once that I have been earnestly praying for someone or a need for someone and the answered prayer shows up in my Hope Chest or my inbox or the person tells me how God has been moving in their life.  Gifts from God.

The thing about gifts is I love to give them.  Especially when I find something so special and wonderful and it calls out the name of the person it is meant for.  What is hard for me is receiving gifts.  Always has been.  So when my wandering eyes also caught sight of a red envelope with our family's name on it, well quite frankly I got a little apprehensive.  I actually shut the Hope Chest and walked back inside leaving it there.  I didn't want it, couldn't accept it, wasn't worthy of it.  I didn't even know what "it" was!

A week earlier one of my beloved mentors challenged me to think about gifts; the tangible and intangible gifts I receive.  I went absolutely silent.  Not because I couldn't think of a gift but because too many came rushing to my mind.  I had just had a series of days where I could name 4-5 times a day God showed up gifting me in unexpected grace filled ways.  Exactly what I needed in the exact moment I needed it.  I wanted to cry from the abundance of gifts.  Instead of cry I chose not to speak.  As we went into silent retreat I claimed each one of those gifts in my memories and in my heart and said prayers of thanksgiving for each person who presented the gifts to me.

Then this red envelope arrived.  I walked back outside and looked at it again.  I just closed the Hope Chest and walked back in again.  Pacing, praying, pacing.  Then I went back out, looked at it again and picked it up.  Held it, read it, prayed over it.  This time I brought it in the house and set it on my desk next to my prayer vigil candle.  I use this candle to pray intercessory prayers and I keep lists of those I am praying for and their needs.  I added the red envelope and just said Thank you God.

This red envelope is more than a gift someone gave our family.  This red envelope is more than a "secret santa".  This envelope is a gift from God.  Whatever is in this envelope it is wrapped in grace and hope.  I know it was wrapped in love and prayer.  The Holy Spirit heard my prayers and invited someones heart to enter my journey.  Each day when I sat down to pray for others and myself I would see the envelope and I would smile.  I would know God was with me, is with me, Emmanuel.  This time of Advent, this time of waiting, this time of gift giving while we await the greatest gift ever of God coming amongst us again - it is also a time of re-awakening to the fact that God is with us.  Right now.  In this minute.  This red envelope is my tangible reminder.  When the world looks too cruel, when injustice upon injustice is occurring in our streets and in our world, when personal hurts are more pronounced during this "festive holiday season" God is with us.  God is with us!  God has gifted us with God's presence, God's touch, God's love, God's mercy, God's grace, God's unrelenting passion and love for us, pursuing us and inviting us into relationship. 

God is with us.  God gifts us.  I have a red envelope to prove it!

I am going to open the envelope today.  It is after all St. Nicholas Day.  I have been waiting for the right moment.  Waiting for the Holy Spirit to tell me that it was time.  This morning I woke up and knew it was time and I went and prayed over the envelope again, one last time.  Then I went to do my daily devotions and what did my ever wandering eye find - the advent word for today is:

Watch! 

God is continually giving us gifts, but we take them and forget God. The habit of prayer opens the eye of the soul to be watchful for God’s love, to recognize his hand in his gifts.

-Richard Meux Benson, SSJE (1824-1915)

 

Today is definitely the day.  I don't need the red envelope anymore.  I am going to take it, I am going to embrace the gift and I am not going to forget God.  I am going to say Thanks be to God!

 

Thanks be to God!  Thanks be to God!  Thanks be to God!  May we all embrace the gifts of God and live a life worthy of the gifts.

 

#thanksliving Home is my Hubby

I don’t like to clean.  Just not a fan of the mundane do it again tasks.  I pray A LOT while I am cleaning.  If I don’t I become resentful of the task.   I will moan that I have to wash the dishes – for the 6^th time today or that I truly believe I have washed, dried, folded and tucked away the same kid’s shirt 3x in one week.  I learned to pray during the tasks to keep me thankful.  Thankful I have dishes to wash which means my kids have enough to eat, thankful I have clothes to fold and put away because it means I have a house full of children who have enough to wear.  Even still truth be told I would rather sit on my front porch and read!

Today I find myself cleaning the house in preparation for our first Sunday Dinner.  The Hubby and I have been praying to God and asking guidance and one thing has become clear for us.   We want to introduce our kids to the concept of the Sunday Dinner.  Neither my husband nor I really experienced this growing up but we have heard stories.  We are nostalgic for something we didn’t grow up with.  We are drawn to the idea of a true Sabbath.  A day to worship God, share a meal with friends and family, pray and play together, enjoy one another, relax into the arms of God and let the scriptures from the day envelop us.

This is my first true Sabbath preparation.  Cleaning the house, putting away the work, preparing the meals in advance, making it so all we have to do is get up in the morning and step into the day with God.  Tomorrow is exciting for us as a new beginning and it is my husband’s birthday with our family coming over to celebrate.  Technically I don’t need to clean for family.  They know us and love us anyway and they have had the joy of us leaving a trail of dirty socks and loose toys at their house when we come to visit.

Thanksliving has me walking through my house cleaning and rejoicing in memories.  We have a very simple house.  It really needs to be painted and the furniture saw much better times 15 years ago.  Everything is well worn and much loved.  It may not be fancy but each item tells a story.  As I dust and sweep, scrub and vacuum I know where each item came from and the story behind it.  The vase of flowers from my mother-in-law's funeral, the pictures of the kids when we first moved into this house, the candle my husband gave me on my first mother’s day, the picture my parents sent me as an ordination gift, the pottery and drawings my kids made in elementary school that have place of honor in each room.

The Hubby and I have been thinking about where we might want to live after retirement.  It seems far away but it really isn’t.  We joke that what I really want is to purchase some land and build a small compound.  The main house for us and family dinners and cabins on the property for each of the kids so they will visit with their families and then stay for a very long time.  As I walk through the house cleaning and praying over everything in thanksgiving for all that is God’s that we have been given to enjoy I realize it doesn’t matter where we live or where we go because I will always be home.  My Hubby is my home.  Each part of this house has him in it.  His energy, his love, his steadfast care and devotion for his family, his refusal to paint because the kids will just get their dirty hands and feet everywhere!  And he doesn’t really care if I clean the house.  He only cares that I am in the house with him.  Because for him where I am is home.  All he ever asks of me is to share my heart and my time with him.  Nothing more and nothing less.

Thanksliving.  So today I clean in preparation of our Sabbath with God and our celebration of my husband’s birthday.  I clean in honor of my Hubby and our home knowing that wherever he is I shall follow.  “Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.”  Ruth 1:16 

 

The porch lights on, come on in if ya wanna.

 

#thanksliving Just Too Busy

How many times a day do we say we are too busy?

This past year I am embarrassed by how many times I made that statement.  I overheard a conversation today where a person told their friend, "Of course I show up late to everything.  If I don't show up late no one will think I am important."  I wonder if we are also "too busy" because it makes us feel important?

Or maybe we are just too busy.  Maybe we have said "Yes" a lot and now we are committed a lot.  This past year God really shook my world and I realized I was too busy for God, for my family and for my friends.  It hurts to admit that.  It hurts even more to think of those I hurt by being too busy.

Today I was praying for all the friends and family who hurt, who feel left behind, lost, misunderstood, not heard, not supported, unloved by those they love the most.  I was praying for all those who ask someone to spend time with them, talk to them, hear and see them only to hear "I am too busy."  We have all said it.  We have all heard it.

God is never too busy.  God always sees us, hears us, knows us (the real us).  God is always waiting for us to sit still and just be open to being noticed, heard and loved.  We can show up early, on time or even late and God is there. 

Thanksliving.

God is always there - whether we are too busy or not - God is always there.  In thankfulness for God always being there for me today I set aside my schedule and I called a friend.  I sat in my prayer chair, turned off the clock and opened myself up to conversation.  I had told my friend I was too busy this past week to talk.  Today I decided I was too busy talking with her to do anything else.  My friend needed that talk.  She is feeling sad, lonely, and lost.  She needed to reconnect and center.  Truth is I needed that talk today also.  I needed to be available, to be a friend, to listen and hear, to support and encourage.  We need one another. 

Thanksliving.

**While I was writing this another friend called me and invited me to a joyous event.  I had to say No, I was too busy that day *sigh*.  However, this time we made alternate plans instead of leaving it at the fact that I was too busy for this event.  I am hopeful.  Baby steps.  I know God will be at the event!

#thanksliving Breaking The Rules

There are very clear rules in our house.  No PDA.  At least No Public Displays of Affection from the Mommy!  From a young age my crew had definite ideas of when I would be allowed to hug and kiss them and it was pretty clear it was to be in the house only - and not while friends were around.  Every now and then we break the rules.  Sometimes I grab a quick hug as they run out the door or place a speed kiss on their cheek as they are doing the dishes.  Seriously, who can resist loving on a kid who is washing the dishes??  And church during the peace.  My kids let me hug them in public during the peace. I mean God is watching right?  They have heard the whole Honor your Mother commandment from their Deacon.

This is why when I walked Little R to school today I stood in complete shock until a knowing smile from a friend brought me back to the moment.  You see I stopped walking at our agreed upon spot so he could walk independently the rest of the way.  Normally I get a rushed "see ya Mom" as he races off, free from my slow steps.  Today he took three steps, turned back to me and ran into my arms and gave me a huge hug and I couldn't resist dropping a kiss on the top of his head and holding on as long as he would let me.

Amazing Grace!  This was a serious Thank You God prayer all my walk back home and even into the house where the rest of the kids wanted to know why I had a goofy grin on my face.  So, I told them.  And guess what?  They all hugged me on the way out of the door this morning!!  Grace upon Grace.

I went on with my day.  I planned on visiting a few of our county homeless shelters and checking with case managers to see how our students were faring the first week of school and get an update on any school supply needs.  I started thinking about Case Managers and how they are a lot like mothers; how they take individuals into their care and help guide them, showing them choices and offering advice on making choices, having to set and maintain rules.  I wondered how often their clients want to be free of them, embarrassed to need them and yet often turning back and saying Thank You. 

While my plans to visit the case managers remained the same Thanksliving broke in and my conversation changed.  I did indeed ask how students were and inquired about supply needs.  But instead of sticking to business as usual and keeping a fast pace towards my next destination I stopped.  I stopped, I looked back and I gave them a hug and I said Thank You.  I asked them how they were doing.  I learned about their kids, their health, their recent vacations and the stress of their workload.  I stopped.  I looked into their eyes.  I took a moment to hold us in a place of relationship where I saw them - them - not just their work.  And I thanked them.  I thanked them for being parents and spouses and co-workers and for the amazing work they do with our homeless brothers and sisters.  The amount of work they do is staggering and most of it is done amidst heightened emotions and in crisis situations.

It might seem so simple.  To stop.  To look at someone.  To have a conversation where the only goal was relationship and thank you and encouragement.  When was the last time you experienced a simple conversation, face to face, where you heard Thank You just for being You?

The hug my son gave me (in public!) was a Thank You just for being his Mom and I loved every minute of it.

Thanksliving!

#thanksliving An Intentional Adventure of Gratitude

About 5 years ago I came across the term "thanksliving".  I have heard of it in two ways:  Vegans celebrating Thanksgiving with plant based foods call the feast Thanksliving and Thanksliving as in a way of living a life of gratitude.  When I first heard the term it sparked an idea for my family to create a monthly newsletter supporting different non-profits.  We managed it for about 3 years.  Then organized chaos as we knew our life to be went hyperspeed and the newsletter became a fond memory.

In my current prayer life the words gratitude and thank you, generosity and intentional living keep coming to the forefront.  When God speaks in my life the words tend to get louder (and louder) until I pay attention.  The words are everywhere.  My kids are using "thank you" more often without prompting (yeah!).  On facebook people are taking the gratitude challenge and the 5 days of thankfulness posts are popping up.  Every time I walk into my kitchen our Family Rules jump out at me:  Be Thankful; Be Grateful.

If those are the directives I give to my family how do I provide an example of living a life of gratitude?  Thanksliving.

It seems to me we first become grateful.  We name and claim the blessings we recognize in our life.  The kids and I were talking and I mentioned to them my first thought when I wake up in the morning is "Thank You God!  Thank you for a new day."

What if we kept going?  What if we walked through our days intentionally looking for moments of gratitude?  The more we see them, feel them, share them, the more thankful we become.

Then what?  What happens when we are thankful?  Just from observing thankful people around me I realize the more thankful people become the more generous they become.  The more people present lives of gratitude the less they see scarcity and the more willing they are to share.  Share their lives, their hearts, their friendship, their hospitality, eventually their all.

The world is so broken, so dark, so scary right now.  Part of my work as a Deacon is to live in the brokenness, to witness within it, to share with others what I see, feel and experience.  That's hard.  It's also real.  As a Mommy I look at my kids growing up in these uncertain times and I know I can't shield them or really even protect them from the reality of the world we live.  However, I can provide an example of being Thankful in all circumstances.  I can be a witness that Joy is not an emotion such as happiness that comes and goes depending on what is happening or not happening around me.  I can show them that Joy is possible in all things because God is in all things.  God is and was and ever shall be and moves amongst us now in the midst of the broken, the dark and the scary.  God is ever with us.

Once we recognize, name and claim our moments of gratitude and we proclaim our thank you we have one more place we can go; living our lives intentionally in generosity.  Our very lives become our Thank You to God.  Thanksliving.

I haven't received a Gratitude or Thankfulness challenge on facebook.  So I have been challenging myself to live a life of Thanksliving.  Each day to say Thank You and do something tangible to express my Thank You.  Now it's time to share.

A new adventure for this Mommy Deacon; Join me?

Today my active response to my first prayer of the day, my "Thank You God for this new day" is to donate blood.  I was born with congenital heart disease and doctors were able to save my life.  My body is able to oxygenate my own blood.  Not only was I saved but I have gone on to live a full and active life.  Thanks be to God!  My heart pumping blood was gifted back to me.  In Thanksliving I share that gift with others today.  May it please God.

#LoveLife Week One

My Lenten Discipline is the #LoveLife daily meditations offered by the brothers of SSJE.  You can subscribe to the daily e-mail videos:  http://ssje.org/ssje/lovelife/

I had planned on writing each day of Lent for #LoveLife.  We plan and God laughs.  Here is my attempt to catch up.  Blessed be our Lenten Journey.

 

Conversion

 

 Where can you know abundant life? Where can you still grow?

            Each morning when I awake I know abundant life.  For me there is a deep knowledge that each day is a gift I have been given.  I was born with congenital heart disease and my parents were told I wouldn’t live past age 12.  Then God saved my heart and my life with ground breaking surgery.  I have a full and abundant life.  Each morning I wake up and my first thought is “Yes, another day, thank you God!”

            And then my feet hit the ground and I get busy and I forget to stay present in the moment.  I still have a long way to grow, to stay present, to stay thankful, to remember each breathe is a gift and opportunity.

Gospel

What new word is God speaking to you today?

Stirring.

Scripture

Write a wish for your journey along the way.

            Holding in tension things earthly and things heavenly.  I wish for the “sweet spot” where earth and heaven meet.  I have a colleague who uses the term “sweet spot” when they feel the Holy Spirit take them over and they feel heaven even though they are fully earth bound.  I have had those moments.  They are amazing!  I have also blocked myself from those moments.  I wish to stay open to the movement of the Spirit, to experience the “sweet spot”.

Revelation Conversation

 

 

Can you allow yourself to be vulnerable and be embraced?

            At some point in my life I stopped chasing after love and started accepting love.  I couldn’t tell you the day, the decision, the moment, the impetus.  One day I just realized I was allowing people to love me, I was allowing God to love me.  Then my heart burst open and I wanted more.  Getting more means being vulnerable.  Now that can be a daily (hourly) challenge.  It takes a lot of courage to be vulnerable.  It takes bravery to share our story – because once we share our truth it is out there to be embraced or rejected.  I have been both.  What I know to be true is God already knows my truth, long before I allow myself to be vulnerable enough to realize my own truth and courageous enough to share it.  And God loves me in my truth, even the broken parts of me.  In my brokenness God can introduce wholeness.

Love

 

 

What do you understand about who God is?

            For me God is Love.  A love so powerful I couldn’t walk away from it (I tried), I couldn’t deny it (I tried), I couldn’t drown it out with other idols (I tried), I couldn’t escape it through anger (I tried), I couldn’t reject it (I tried) and I can’t live without it (I tried).  For me God is love; all consuming, relentless, passionate, everlasting love.  Thanks be to God!

Relationship

 

 

How could you be playful in showing love to others today?

            I am so blessed to be a mother.  Our God is a playful and funny God.  I am a serious person who tends to take things way too seriously.  Can’t do that with kids.  I think God graced my life with children to keep me from taking myself too seriously and missing out on a lot of life.  Best mom moments ever?  When your kids belt out the deep belly giggle.  Nothing in this world like it.  You laugh so hard you cry.  Playful love.

Acceptance

 

What is your reminder that you are loved?

            “God adores you…that’s the truth.”  If we open ourselves up to be loved by God we can see it everywhere.  Everywhere.  The truth is it’s a choice we make.  A dear friend of mine asks “are you going to bless it or block it?”  Indeed.  Am I going to open myself up to the powerful love of God and be forever transformed?  Risky.  Amazing.  Or am I going to close myself off and block the love?  I remember my life when I was blocking the love.  I don’t choose to go back there.

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.

A Time To Remember

"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." 

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of the Christian season of Lent.  Lent is a time of preparation that grows in anticipation of Easter, the Resurrection of Jesus.  Lent provides an opportunity for reflection, assessment, repentance, prayer and fasting. 

The big question in many Christian households today is "what are you giving up for Lent?"  And in most Episcopal households you can add "what are you taking on for Lent?"  I grew up in a Roman Catholic household and observed Lent every year and knew every year I was to give something up.  When I began attending the Episcopal Church my first Lent was a different experience for me when my Priest offered the option of taking something on.  It put a whole new twist on Lent, a new way of exploring my relationship with God.

And to me that is really the point of Lent.  For me Lent is a time to explore my relationship with God, with the Divine, with Love.  It is a time for me to reflect on my daily life and my actions in this world - do I show Love to my neighbor, do I act in compassion with each person I encounter, do I stay present to the person placed before me and see Jesus in them, are they able to see Jesus in me?

For most of my years Ash Wednesday gave me great anxiety.  You see today I will go to church and listen to scripture that tells me "And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting."  What happens next is I will kneel at the altar and have ashes put on my forehead, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."  It seemed so against scripture, so hypocritical to what we just heard, to place this visible sign of fasting upon our forehead.

Then one Ash Wednesday it occurred to me that Lent is not all about the fasting, deprivation and giving up, it isn't even about taking on and blessing others.  No, Lent, for a girl like me is about being the Prodigal Daughter.  Lent is about waking up this morning and realizing I am sitting in a pig sty of my own making, that I have wandered far from home, that I have forgotten who I am and where I come from.  Lent is looking up to the heavens from my seat in the filth of my own created circumstances and crying out "help me find my way home, this is not where I belong!"  Lent is the journey of Repentance, standing up, turning around and heading back home to God. 

The next 40 days is my opportunity to pick myself up and begin the long journey to the cross.  Along the way I will discover new things about myself and the Divine Almighty God who created me.  I will die to the material things that have en captured my attention through intentional and deliberate fasting.  I will awaken to my neighbor and see the face of Jesus in the people who are placed before me as I take on actions of mercy, justice, compassion and dare I hope, Love.  I will make those steps to the cross and experience the ultimate sacrifice of Love's redemption.  I will stay up all night in Vigil those final steps approaching home and I will be rekindled with the energy of the Light of the world.  Easter day is our celebration, our  hope and Resurrection, our walking into our Father's land and seeing that He has been standing on the front porch looking for us, anticipating and longing for our return.  We are home, in our Father's arms, welcomed and reminded that we are dust, the beloved dust of True Love and to dust, into True Love, we will return. 

Now the ashes on my forehead make sense to me.  Now I realize the ashes are a visible sign for me - no one else, really just for me - to allow me to once again see the seal of my baptism when I was marked as Christ's own Forever.  The ashes allow me time to remember who I am and where I come from and grace me with the opportunity to travel the road of repentance. The road that leads home into the loving arms of God.

"At last, I understood what religion was really all about.  Or at least was supposed to be about.  I didn't just believe in God; I knew God. 

As I hobbled to the altar to take Communion,

tears streamed down my cheeks." 

 Eben Alexander, M.D. (pg. 148 Proof of Heaven)

Blessings on your Lenten journey.