Pink Sun

This morning after slapping my alarm clock silent, I rolled over to find neon pink streams of sunrise squeezing through the holes in our blinds.  I have to be honest - my first thought was, "ugh, we really need to get some curtains..."   But then I realized that if I didn't get my sleepy, stayed-up-too-late self up & outta bed, I would most certainly miss a breathtaking "good morning" greeting from God.  Wow.  The color in the sky was awesome.  And it's kinda crazy how quickly the pinks blend into oranges and then into blues, depending on the clouds and how clear the sky is when the sun makes its way into the day.
The great thing about the view from our little Kentucky home in the semi-country is that even Jeff gets to enjoy the colors of the sky.  He is not a morning person by any means, so he usually misses the early show; but he's lucky, because sunsets from our perspective are just as magical.  And he loves the outdoors and the gift of nature enough to stop and breathe it in as much as possible.
So - all in all - both our souls are fed.

It's hard to believe that Jeff & I have lived in Glasgow for over a year now.  I keep meaning to sit down and write more intentionally about this transition in life and how it has affected me.  I keep wanting to sit down and record more deeply my memories and life-lessons learned from my 5 years in Fort Worth.  And I think it would do me good to sit down and reflect upon how much I've already found growth and blessing here in Glasgow.  The good stuff and the hard stuff - I want to record it all.

Right now, Jeff is belting out some riffs on one (yes, one) of his electric guitars, and the dogs are outside running around.  The cats are appreciating this rare moment of a house to themselves, canine-free.  I'm sitting here blogging about nothing important.  We are all feeding our souls.

Today saw challenges of its own but nothing too intense that I feel the need to write about.

It must have been a writing or English course in school somewhere along the way that I learned the freedom and joy of stream-of-conscience writing.  I guess you could place this post somewhere along the streams' spectrum...And that's okay with me.

When I finally gave in and decided to try out blogging, this was one of my greatest concerns.  What am I going to write about?  What if I have nothing to say?  Will all this be a waste?

Writing doesn't always have to serve a specific purpose.  Of course, it's great when it does - and I mostly aim for that goal.  But sometimes the beauty of writing is that we can just...write.  In many ways similar to the pattern of our days...we can go along with our pen or at our computer and put language to our thoughts.  And it doesn't have to have a definite intro/body/conclusion pattern.  It doesn't even have to make sense all the time!  (At least I hope not, because I'm in trouble if it does!)  I like to write.  And in 2013, I hope to be more creative with my writing and with my blog.  I want to be serious and silly.  I want to have fun with it and learn from other people along the way.  And at the same time, I want to be relevant to our times and the events that shape the world we live in now.

Something I would like to do, as I mentioned before, is write more specifically about my time in Fort Worth, TX.  It was a life-changing time and I made lifelong friends and colleagues.  I feel like I owe many of my friends and mentors the small act of saying thanks by recording how important they are to me.  Whether they read it or not...

So - like the colors of the sky, writing provides endless amounts of joy and gratitude.  It is freeing and healing.  My prayer is that everyone, everywhere can find something that frees them of the heavy weights life can bring.  Something healing...something fun....something bright and colorful...much like the neon pink light that streamed in my window this morning and called me to greet the new day.

Those Wise Ones...

For anyone who will be in early worship tomorrow morning - here's my meditation on Matthew 2: 1-12.  (We'll watch the video first.)  This doesn't mean I want you to skip out on church (!!), but since I'm finding it hard to be a consistent blogger these days, I thought I'd share the thoughts I'll be preaching with the blogosphere.

So about those wise ones…
Regardless if you do Facebook or Twitter or use the Internet much at all – haven’t you ever wondered what the Christmas story would look like on a modern canvas?  How would the communication happen?  How would the word spread?  It’s amazing, simply amazing, that this many years later – the word is still spreading…still changing lives…still changing the world…still turning worldviews upside-down.  I just had to share this video with you.  Because even though camels were cars and the only GPS available was a bright and shining star…. something pretty amazing happened.  And here we are today, on YouTube and in church, to tell the story again. 

 There’s a whole lot packed into these 12 short verses.  First there is the curious wonder and the journey of the wise men from the east; bringing their gifts to the recently born Son of God.  And then there is the fear and the evil intentions of King Herod.  This unruly ruler wanted no one to threaten his power or his throne.  Following these verses, we see his rage lived out in the slaughter of every male child under 2 years old.  We see the terrified flight of Mary & Joseph to Egypt to protect young Jesus.  And so, not only do we hear today a story of complete wonder and humbling beauty, but also a story of fear, of violence, and of darkness.
  

What can we learn from it?  What does this story tell us about the God we worship…and the world in which we live?  It tells us a lot.  More than I can squeeze into a Morning Watch meditation!  More than we can squeeze into our human brains, really!  For one, Matthew’s story of Jesus’ eastern visitors reminds us of the vast inclusion of God’s message.  Where in the world did these wise ones even hear of the Son of God being born?  They came from a completely different part of the world!  They risked their lives and broke all their commitments to make a journey that was foreign to them from the start.  They were faithful to a God they did not know.  And when they got to the home of Mary & Joseph, they knelt down, they worshipped, and they gave their gifts.  And so the obvious questions here are – 1. Who does God not include in the hopeful promise of Jesus Christ?  Anyone?  (Matthew shows us radical inclusion as opposed to exclusion.)  And 2. – What do we bring to our Lord?  What are our gifts?  How is our life like a journey to find the Babe of Bethlehem?  Are we praying?  Are we engaging scripture on a regular basis?  Are we sharing the love God has placed in our hearts with all we meet?   Take just a few moments now…to think about your life and who God created you to be.  What can you give…what do you give…as you live out your faith?
  

After taking a close, very personal look at this wondrous story of the star and the wise men and the gifts…we have to zoom out.  If we don’t zoom out then we miss 95% of the message God wants us so badly to hear.  Zoom out from a personal perspective to a communal, worldly perspective of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  Look at the situation to which God came.  After Jesus – the Son of God – was born, King Herod ordered the deaths of numerous baby boys.  The holy parents had to flee for their lives and for the life of their son.  And when Jesus grew up and lived out his ministry, he was persecuted, put on trail, and executed.  Look at the world in which the Gospels were written.  The Temple – the centerpiece of the Jewish faith – had been attacked and destroyed and God’s people were left hopeless; picking up the pieces of their religion and questioning how to move forward.  Zoom out and see the darkness of the world in the days of Jesus….in the centuries that followed….and even today, in the world of Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and GPS Navigation Systems.  Zoom out and look at the world God came to…. and the world God continues to come. 

One commentator I read tells us that there’s a reason we read the Luke version of Jesus’ birth on Christmas Eve.  He says, “Matthew’s nativity moves quickly from the glad moment of the adoration and gifts of the ‘wise men’ to a darker, more ambivalent world of political intrigue, deception, and fear-induced violence.”  He goes on to say, “If Matthew’s account is more sober, it is also realistic.  We live in a world riddled by fear, a world of devastating super-storms and elementary school massacres, a world where innocents die everyday to preventable illness and hunger….Matthew renders an accurate if also difficult picture of the world.  And that is what is at the heart of Matthew’s darker, more adult-oriented story of Jesus’ birth:  the promise that it is precisely this world that God came to, this people so mastered by fear that we often do the unthinkable to each other and ourselves that God loves; this gaping need that we have and bear that God remedies.  Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us, the living, breathing, and vulnerable promise that God chose to come live and die for us, as we are, so that in Christ’s resurrection, we, too, might experience newness of life.”[1]

Newness of life.  Today we celebrate a new year…. while in the same breath we speak to the promise of God’s light in a dark world.  Where do we find newness in our personal and public lives?  Look for it.  It is different for each person; and yet, because we are a community of faith, we take part in a communal life of discipleship.  It is because we have seen the light…because we have been guided by the star…we’ve followed our GPS and we’ve followed God’s call to this very moment…it is because of this that we can honestly say “yes, there is more to this life than fear and darkness and violence.”  “There is more to God’s story than me, & yet I am a critical part of it.”  Because God chose to come to this world in the form a tiny, crying baby, there is another way…there is love in a powerful and intimate way.  And because of that bright and shining star…because of those wise ones…we can sit here today, in the social media world of 2013, and humbly claim our role in the bigger-than-life, awesome, and inclusive story of the God we worship.  The light is shining, friends, and the darkness does not overcome it.  Let us live this promise everyday.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

---

[1] David Lose, Workingpreacher.org.

Cry. Hope. Imagine.

A blank screen.  I guess I shouldn't try to force it.  My eyes are beginning to hurt from the brightness of the computer screen in a room lit only by one lamp and Christmas tree lights.  Busyness and agendas have kept me from the blogosphere these past several weeks.  And now I sit here, and wonder....what do I say after the events of last Friday?  What can I say that hasn't already been said?  What sorts of comforting words can I give that haven't already been given?  What kind of prayers can I offer that haven't already been offered?  I have read so many articles and blogs and Facebook posts and prayers by people I know and strangers alike.  People who have spilled forth their love and sorrow through poetic words and comforting insights; honest lamentations and heartfelt questions.  And all I can think of now is why...and how...

Why did this happen?  Why did children and adults have to die?  Why do these violent acts keep happening?
Why?

How do we move forward?  How do the families heal?  How do we stop such terror from unfolding again? How can we unite alongside people of all backgrounds and situations and faiths and non-faiths and come together on at least this one thing?  The safety of all.  The life of all.  Too many precious lives have been taken from this world.  Too much possibility.  Too much potential.  Too much beauty is gone.  How do we move forward?

I will never be able to answer the why.  My only attempt is to say that no matter the why - God is and continues to be here.  In this season, especially, we are reminded of this simple and comforting truth.  God comes all the time.  God never leaves our side.  God cries with us.  God wants us to have life.  God never wanted for this to happen.

In the how, I find comfort in the memory.  Not the memory of the deaths, but the memory of the lives.  Goodness and love comes from each life that is taken by violence.  And even though that physical life is gone, the goodness and love that came from it will never go away.  And I think, even more than the memory, we will always have the spirit of the beloved.  And my faith teaches me that the spirit can do amazing things.  It can breathe in new life; it can be in many places at many times; it can bring warmth and healing and hope.  It can live forever.

Because of this...all people who have died will never be forgotten.  Their lives will continue to live on in powerful ways.  But it takes work from the rest of us.  We have to allow our hearts to heal and our spirits to soften from the pain and the agony and the anger that follows these kinds of losses.  It takes time...it takes a lot of hugs and tears and laughter...and it takes prayer.  

In the days to come, through the tears of grief and sorrow, I look forward to hearing the stories of how these lives are carried on.  I look forward to hearing and watching our country and our world be blessed and strengthened by the lives of those we lost from Newtown, CT...and Aurora, CO...and Portland, OR...and from all places where untimely deaths have met the violent decision of someone who needed help more deeply than we will ever know. 

Nobody ever said it was going to be easy.  Why does it have to be so hard?  We will never have a satisfying answer.  How we deal with it and how we heal from it is, at least, a place to start.

I don't think it is time, yet, to begin on the how.  But soon it will be.  For now people of lost loved ones grieve and mourn and console one another.  But soon....soon we will hear how the spirits live on.  And I believe that can bring the kind of healing, and the kind of hope, and the kind of strength that even God could wish for out of a situation like this.  

A lot of conversations will take place on a lot of different issues and topics because of the shootings.  My prayer is that the lives lost can be remembered in ways that carry the goodness of their lives and the light of their spirits to the darkest corners of the earth.  And the darkness will not overcome it.

Breathing in Turkey, Breathing out Thanks

The turkey has been eaten.  My Nana's famous dressing is all gone.  Family and friends are safely home.  And tomorrow another blanket of leaves will crunch beneath our feet...

But I cannot let November slip away without at least one blog!  Life has been busy, fun, challenging, exciting, and nonstop since I last wrote.  I sit tonight by the warmth of a fire, and surrounded by 2 sleeping pups and a hot-chocolate-drinking Jeff...and I wait.  I wait for inspiration to find me and take me by surprise.  I wait for creativity to come out of nowhere and smack me out of my comfortable place.  I wait....

As I write these words I see myself tiptoeing toward the familiar illustration of this time of year...As a minister, it's only right...I wait.  A season of Advent-waiting is upon us....As Christians, we wait for the birth of Jesus.

Ah! - but this year we have some "in between" time.  Yes, we have a whole week between the turkey of Thanksgiving and that first purple candle of the Advent wreath.  This year...we have to wait before we can wait!

And yet, as "technical"as this can seem...when are we not searching for that ounce of inspiration or that sliver of creativity?  When do our hearts not long for God in some simple yet powerful way?  I am glad we have some days before the beginning of Advent, because I want to think some more about the season of gratitude that has just passed us.  Life has been so busy that I haven't taken the right amount of time to be silent and to listen.  I've had coffee every morning, but I haven't had coffee with God very much in November.  My mornings have been filled with hectic shuffling from one thing to the next - before, during, and after the day's work.  Too often this year I have forgotten how much I love Thanksgiving and the spiritual attitude it encourages from us - not just one day, but all year 'round.

And so tonight...on this quiet November evening...I am thankful for the silence.  For the small sounds of two pups breathing and for the life that Jeff & I are journeying together.  I am thankful for the laughter of my family and the commitment of good friends.  I am thankful that my job is one that helps people find the Holy within themselves, and within the world.

Tonight I stop to breathe in these moments and to thank the mysterious God who breathes new life into me.  Amen.    

Fear part IV...God

For a lot of people on the East Coast, Halloween fears are happening in real time.  I can't imagine the destruction and the turmoil that is experienced in these kinds of situations.  I pray for renewal, for comfort, and for hope.  In the midst of the terror of Hurricane Sandy, there is the anxiety of a presidential campaign.  And yet in the midst of all of this....tomorrow night millions of people will step away from their realities, put on a weird, goofy, scary, or funny costume, hand out candy to tiny Superman's & Cinderella's, or walk their children down neighborhood sidewalks for M&M's and Starbursts.  I will be among those people - hanging out with church friends, youth, and experiencing probably the chilliest Halloween I've seen in years.

This year, though, I keep thinking about what it means to fear God.  And the thought is only more powerful in light of the destruction of the last couple days.  What does it mean to fear God?  What do we do when we find that language in scripture?  My stomach twists itself in knots every time I think about all the preachers out there who blame storms like Sandy on the wrath of God.  Too many people in this world talk about what is scary about God than what is awesomely loving about God.  Not once will you will hear me preach about a God who sends disastrous storms and destruction upon people.  So when I talk about fearing God I don't mean the kind of fear we get when we walk into a haunted house (or is it just me that's scared of those...?).  And I'm not talking about the kind of fear that people have when they wake up one morning only to discover that their entire lives are crumbled in a mess of fallen bricks, broken walls, and dispersed neighbors.  No, the fear I'm talking about is an awe-struck stirring from deep within. That feeling you get when you know that something far more awesome is at work out there.  It's the kind of fear that drove Solomon to build the most amazing house of worship anyone had ever seen; the kind of fear that sent the shepherds to their knees.  It's the fear that drives ordinary people to do extraordinary things.

We know when we lose sight of this fear, too.  When we get so caught up in our own agendas and lose passion for our calling in this world.  When it becomes all about us.  When the excitement for living that once filled our bones is lost in the mundane chores of life.  When doing what we know in our gut is the right thing to do because we know in our gut that it's not all about us....that our lives are connected to something bigger and more awesome than we can imagine....that's the kind of fear I'm talking about.  And because I believe in God, then I put that Divine Being as the source of this mind-boggling greatness.  So, without fear and awe for God, what am I doing?  If I don't fear God then I'm not living out my calling to its fullest.  If I don't fear God, then I'm not thinking through decisions care-fully or empowering ministries that center around hope and justice.

I think I'm learning that fearing God has a whole lot more to do with loving God and a whole lot less to do with being afraid of God.  When we fear God, we not only realize our frailty, but we realize God's strength.  It is comforting and a little bit scary at the same time.  But it doesn't mean that we should be afraid.  God is not a monster in a movie and God is not some ax murderer.  God is the source of the hope that comes in the midst of chaos.  God is the comfort of a friend on a gloomy October day.  God is the understanding in a situation that makes no stinkin' sense.  God is at the center of all that is good, and true, and just.

So the day after tomorrow...when candy wrappers cover our floors and face paint is all washed off; when the costumes are put away; when people along the East Coast begin to pick up the shattered pieces of life; when our country is one more day closer to the election; I pray that fear consumes us.  Not fear that divides and terrifies.  But the kind of fear that brings us closer to a love so strong that we can't help but fall to our knees....or hug a friend....or send some money to relief efforts...or say a prayer....or do something extraordinary with this ordinary thing we call life.

Fear part III, Being Who We Are

One year for Halloween I dressed up like Debbie Gibson - my childhood idol.  I wore my Electric Youth t-shirt, a blue jean skirt, cut a hole in my black leggings and drew a smiley face on my knee (only the truest of Debbie fans will appreciate), and sported my very own black top hat - a Debbie trademark.  Needless to say, my 8-year old self rocked it.

Throughout my whole life there has been someone or some people I've looked up to.  Whether it was famous celebrities or older kids in school; family friends or peers on sports teams.  I have a gift for seeing the good in others.  And yet, as great as this gift can be, it can at times be a curse.  Sometimes the more good I see in others, the more lacking I see in myself.  And I think this goes back to a deeper fear that is inside a whole lot of us in this world - the fear of being who we are.

As a youth minister, I try to never miss an opportunity to tell the youth that they are created in the image of God.  The earlier we can help them to see how unique and awesome they are, I think the better chance we have that they will actually grow up believing it.  So why is it so hard to believe it for ourselves?  Why do we allow fears or limitations or excuses to keep us from being that one-of-a-kind person we were created to be?  Perhaps culture has a lot to do with it.  We are overloaded by entertainment and the media world telling us we have to look or dress in certain ways.  There is a voice out there telling us and our youth that success can only be measured by the value of dollar bills or the level of popularity.  Our senses go spastic with all these ways & methods to "self-improve."  But it's not only the external causes. We have to be reminded, internally, that it is okay to be who we are.  It is more than okay.  It is okay to sing loudly in the shower regardless if we ever hit a right note.  It is okay to mess up or to fail at something that we think is really important.  It is okay to laugh at ourselves every once in a while (or all the time!).  It is okay to take the pressure off our shoulders and put peace in our souls - even when we really think "that" outfit or "this" haircut would make us this...much...more confident at work or school on Monday morning.

With all the cases we hear on the news of child & teen bullying, of suicide cases and violent murders; and in this political climate of partisan pointing of fingers and name-calling - it's baffling how much work needs to be done to put wholeness and peace back in our lives and more fully into this world.  Perhaps it can start with one of us at a time.  If we recognize our internal beauty and allow room for healthy growth and self-image, then we can help others do the same.  So many of us try to hide behind masks of wealth, beauty, success, fame, and self-righteous pride.  Forget the creepy mask from the "Scream" movies, these are the scary ones!  What if all of us, all over the world, took off our masks for just a day?  What if we stopped pretending that we had it altogether?  What if we realized our brokenness and then turned around and saw that our neighbor is dealing with very similar struggles?  I think only then could we crawl out from under our bed and face our fears front on.  The fear of being who we are is real...and without this fear we are vulnerable; we are an open book.  But if we can learn to let go of who we're not, and fully be who we are - with all our weaknesses and quirks and gifts - then we will not only discover the truth of our own souls but the beauty and truth of another.  That could make the world go 'round.  I pray that all of us can be who we are - knowing that we are works-in-progress - and yet at our core, we are exactly who we need to be.  

Now will somebody please turn up some Debbie so I can dance around the house?  It is Halloween for goodness sake...

Fear part II, "The Unknown"

It was a steamy, hot August afternoon in Fort Worth, TX.  The air was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife.  I was in the drivers seat, my car still tired from the 12-hour drive from Kentucky to Texas just a week before.  I was taking my then boyfriend, Jeff, to the DFW airport.  Jeff had come with my parents to Ft Worth to help me move into my new home at Brite Divinity School.  And now - it was time for him to leave.  Everything was perfectly fine on the way to the airport.  Jeff has a GPS in his brain, and although he was not yet familiar with the interstates of the metroplex, I knew that we would have no trouble making it to the airport.  Other than the tears and more hugs goodbye than words goodbye, I got back into my Honda Accord for the trip back to to my new apartment, my new home.  The first time I would be there alone.  The chicken scratch handwritten directions Jeff gave me were spot on.  I should have had nothing to worry about as long as I followed them word for word.  Tightly gripping the steering wheel, I pulled out of the airport terminal and told myself I could do this.  Looking back, I was probably about 10 minutes from my exit when everything became scary.  I got confused and let panic win as I exited at a downtown Ft Worth exit.  All of a sudden the tall buildings got taller.  Everything closed in around me.  The everyday people walking down the sidewalks grew distorted, monster-like faces.  Orange cones and road work signs came out of no-where and forced me down one-way streets.  Cars were honking.  People were yelling.  The tall buildings got taller.  Everything closed in on me until I could hardly breathe!  I began to cry and I yelled to myself - "why did I move here?!!!"

The Unknown.  In this case...Kentucky girl moves to the big city.  Obviously I embellished a bit (can't you tell?).  But my first experience of getting lost in Fort Worth is largely about my fear for the unknown.  I had moved halfway across the country, far away from anyone or anything familiar.  I didn't know what was in store for me.  I certainly did not know the twists and turns and the roads I would go down in this new life.

In one way or another, all of us have some fear of the unknown.  Whether it's moving to a new place, entering a new school, going off to college or sending a child off to college, having a baby, getting married, starting a new job, dealing with the death of someone you love, the list goes on and on.  In many ways, each day is an unknown.  We do not know where or how we might be surprised or thrown for a loop on any given day.  And yet in many ways the unknown can be as exciting as it is scary.  Stepping into the light of something new is exhilarating; it makes you feel fully alive and able to breathe in life more deeply.

When I moved to Fort Worth, I had many doubts about the decision I had made.  By nature, I am a "worrier", and so in the first year, I worried constantly whether I was going to make it in the city and in the life of a seminarian.  Looking back, I should have let those worries fall off my shoulders, I should have trusted God and trusted myself a little bit more.  But that's easy to say now...

In case you were wondering, I didn't get sucked in by the big city on that hot August day.  I made it back to my apartment with only my pride & dignity a little scarred.  I learned a lesson that day, but the realization of that lesson has come much later.  What we don't know does not always have to be scary.  And yet, we shouldn't sugarcoat our life changes either.  When the unknown looms over you like the pink slime in the Ghostbusters movie, take a deep breath first.  Then take another one.  You may feel all alone and lost, but remember - there are a lot of streets in this life, and not all of them are one-way.  Take your time.  Listen to your gut.  Listen to the silence of a new day.  It is unknown.  It is scary.  But it can also be the most beautiful experience of your life.  It will have its ups and its downs, you will experience the peaks of the mountaintop and the loneliness of the valley...and everything in between.  You will forever be changed.  And when you close the book on that day, I hope you realize that this life doesn't have to be as scary as it seems.  Because just as there is fear...there is also hope in the unknown.  Hope never morphs into a 4-eyed monster.  Hope can take us to many places...and hope can make the unknown look a lot more like a new home.