Tuesday, August 21, 2007
A Mother Watching
Watching our children grow up is beautiful and incredibly hard. Our older son has always marched according to his own drum. His own personality (ESTP by the Myers/Briggs Type Indicator), when mixed with ADHD & ODD, hasn't always helped him in making wise, thoughtful decisions. Anger has also been a difficult issue for him to deal with. I see hopeful signs, and wait with bated breath to see what will blossom. Our younger son, in playing his Pokemon game, talked this morning about the "bide" attack. If he waits through 2 turns doing nothing, then he can use the combined strength of whatever attacks were used against him during those 2 turns. It's an interesting spin on "bide," but it's also helpful to learn that sometimes it is better when we "bide" our time, waiting to see what will unfold rather than rushing in.
Nurturing towards purpose
Fall is coming! Actually, today almost feels as though it is in the late fall with the rain and cooler temperatures. I know that we will have more heat before we get through September, but it’s nice to know that the seasons do indeed change.
The first thing I notice is that my morning walk is getting darker and darker even though I’m not getting up and out any earlier. The second thing I notice is that our college students have been leaving to begin or return to their studies. Some of the anticipation is excitement, waiting to see what else new will happen. But part of the anticipation is dread, wondering what on earth else will happen now.
As with any gift, change is a two-edged sword. I see my boys growing up and I rejoice in their increasing abilities and independence, but I also think somewhat longingly of the days when they were young enough to want Mom to dry their tears and help them in difficult situations.
One of my purposes in life is to receive these precious gifts of life and help nurture them to become strong and develop their own sense of purpose and vocation in life. Not only is that my purpose with my boys, but it is also my purpose as a pastor.
Each person in C2UMC, in fact each person I encounter, is a precious gift. Part of my purpose is to help the community of faith nurture this gift so that each can develop or continue to develop their own sense of purpose and vocation.
Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your life and your journey in finding and developing your purpose and vocation as a part of Christ’s family here on earth.
The first thing I notice is that my morning walk is getting darker and darker even though I’m not getting up and out any earlier. The second thing I notice is that our college students have been leaving to begin or return to their studies. Some of the anticipation is excitement, waiting to see what else new will happen. But part of the anticipation is dread, wondering what on earth else will happen now.
As with any gift, change is a two-edged sword. I see my boys growing up and I rejoice in their increasing abilities and independence, but I also think somewhat longingly of the days when they were young enough to want Mom to dry their tears and help them in difficult situations.
One of my purposes in life is to receive these precious gifts of life and help nurture them to become strong and develop their own sense of purpose and vocation in life. Not only is that my purpose with my boys, but it is also my purpose as a pastor.
Each person in C2UMC, in fact each person I encounter, is a precious gift. Part of my purpose is to help the community of faith nurture this gift so that each can develop or continue to develop their own sense of purpose and vocation.
Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your life and your journey in finding and developing your purpose and vocation as a part of Christ’s family here on earth.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Psalm 30--A Sermon
Grace and peace be with you this day!
Take a moment right now to remember a time when you found yourself drawn up out of the Pit, perhaps when you thought you were about to meet your end and yet you lived, or when you felt surrounded by foes then were vindicated, or when fear was replaced by joy…
Hold this memory in your heart this morning.
All summer long we have been looking at the Psalms, the songs and prayers of God’s people. We have found psalms that teach us about wisdom, psalms that help us cry out in lament, psalms that remind us of creation, psalms that lead us in praise. Our Psalm today is one of personal thanksgiving, a todah psalm.
It might have been written by David, but it just as easily could have been written by anyone who experienced healing, or redemption from the Pit.
For the Hebrew people, the Pit and Sheol are synonymous. Dennis Brachter reminds us that "in Hebrew thought, Sheol was the abode of the dead, the underworld where people went when they died. Israelites did not have a well-developed concept of an afterlife until after the Babylonian exile. Instead, they adopted metaphors for death from the cultures of surrounding people. Most of these cultures had a mythology that explained death in terms of a story about a journey that the person made underground after death. In these cultures, with the exception of Egypt, there was no concept of a "soul" that survived after death to live in another place. It was merely a way to conceptualize in story form the reality of death and burial.
The mythical stories told of an underworld ruled by gods whose task it was to find rest for the one who died. Of course, the Israelites did not accept the idea of domains of other gods. Yet, they did adopt the language and the metaphor of the underworld to speak of death. In reality, the idea of Sheol or the Pit, simply became a poetic metaphor for the grave and burial. To "go down to Sheol" was simply to die and be buried. The term "soul" that appears in some translations of verse 3 is the Hebrew word nephesh, which in this context simply means person or life.
But even this picture is not quite as straightforward as it sounds. In our more scientific way of thinking, death is a biological function that can be marked at a certain point in time. Yet, in the Israelite thought world, death was a much more extensive concept than biology. Of course, they knew enough to know that when a person stopped breathing, they died. Yet, their conception of death and life extended much more broadly.
Life, far more than simply a biological function, encompassed well-being, happiness, vitality, all the activities that define human existence. Death, then, was any diminishment of that vitality. Sickness, for example, was a form of death, because it diminished the vitality of life, and in a very real sense, was a beginning of death. That was far closer to reality in the ancient world with little medical knowledge and fewer cures than it is in ours." (http://www.cresourcei.org/lectionary/)
Hannah found herself in the Pit. She was one of the two wives of Elkanah. Peninnah, the other wife, had sons and daughters, but Hannah, even though Elkanah loved her best, had none. In Hannah’s day, a woman’s worth was in the children that she bore. Peninnah never let an opportunity go by when she derided Hannah. In her barrenness, Hannah found herself in the Pit.
David, once a shepherd who slew a lion, once a young giant killer, now a king, but a king who took something that wasn’t his. David had taken Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, for his own and had Uriah positioned to be killed in battle. Now the son that Bathsheba bore him was dying. David was in the Pit.
There was a man who had been ill for 35 years. He kept trying to find healing in the pool of Bethsda when the waters were stirred up, but someone else always got to the water first. This man was in the Pit.
There was a woman of Nain who was a widow. Her only son died. Who was going to care for her? She had no one. This woman was in the Pit.
Sometimes we find ourselves in the Pit for no fault of our own. Life’s circumstances, it seems, have conspired against us. We become ill, enemies surround us, we lose all that is important to us. And yet, there are times we land ourselves in the Pit because of our own actions, like David.
Charles Colson seemed to have it all—special counsel to President Nixon, responsible for bringing special interest groups into the White House policy-making process. Known as Nixon’s hatchet man, Colson was willing to be ruthless in getting things done. But then came the Watergate burglary, and all the cover-up that followed, and Colson’s world came crashing down as he awaited arrest. Colson was in the Pit.
Most of us have been in the Pit at one time in our life or another. Perhaps it was illness, perhaps it was losing a job, perhaps it was the failure of a marriage, perhaps it was the loss of someone we love, perhaps it was because of what we ourselves had done.
The Pit is anything that takes us away from God, from life. And yet our God is one who refuses to bow to the power of the Pit. Our God is the One who is life and who, having created us, seeks to bring us to life.
God heard the cries of Hannah in the depths of her Pit, reached down to her and drew her up. Hannah conceived and bore Samuel who became a prophet for the Lord. After Samuel, Hannah had three more sons and two daughters.
God heard the anguish of David, king and grieving father, and sent to him the prophet Nathan who helped David to see his own sin. Even in the midst of death, God drew David up out of the Pit.
Jesus saw the man who had been ill for 35 years, lying by the Pool of Bethesda for a long time, hoping to touch the healing waters. Jesus reached out to this man in the Pit and drew him, saying, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” And at once he was made well, took up his mat and began to walk.
Jesus saw the funeral procession of the only son of a widow in Nain. He had compassion on her. He came forward, touched the bier, and said, “Young man, I say to you rise!” The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Jesus reached into the Pit and drew them up into life.
God saw the morass that Chuck Colson had created for himself, the Pit which he had dug. God sent him a friend and a book, Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis. Even though arrested and in prison, the Pit had no hold on Colson because God had already drawn him up into life.
In the todah tradition, when we have experienced the Pit and been drawn up, we give thanks but giving testimony to what God has done.
Hear the psalmist’s testimony again, this time from The Message by Eugene Peterson:
1 I give you all the credit, God—
you got me out of that mess,
you didn't let my foes gloat.
2-3 God, my God, I yelled for help
and you put me together.
God, you pulled me out of the grave,
gave me another chance at life
when I was down-and-out.
4-5 All you saints! Sing your hearts out to God!
Thank him to his face!
He gets angry once in a while, but across
a lifetime there is only love.
The nights of crying your eyes out
give way to days of laughter.
6-7 When things were going great
I crowed, "I've got it made.
I'm God's favorite.
He made me king of the mountain."
Then you looked the other way
and I fell to pieces.
8-10 I called out to you, God;
I laid my case before you:
"Can you sell me for a profit when I'm dead?
auction me off at a cemetery yard sale?
When I'm 'dust to dust' my songs
and stories of you won't sell.
So listen! and be kind!
Help me out of this!"
11-12 You did it: you changed wild lament
into whirling dance;
You ripped off my black mourning band
and decked me with wildflowers.
I'm about to burst with song;
I can't keep quiet about you.
God, my God,
I can't thank you enough.
God draws us up. Do we have a testimony of thanksgiving to offer before God’s people?
My testimony: barrenness and now two sons
Do you have a testimony to share?
Dance, then, wherever you may be.
I am the Lord of the dance, said he.
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you maybe
And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he! (by Sidney Carter)
Take a moment right now to remember a time when you found yourself drawn up out of the Pit, perhaps when you thought you were about to meet your end and yet you lived, or when you felt surrounded by foes then were vindicated, or when fear was replaced by joy…
Hold this memory in your heart this morning.
All summer long we have been looking at the Psalms, the songs and prayers of God’s people. We have found psalms that teach us about wisdom, psalms that help us cry out in lament, psalms that remind us of creation, psalms that lead us in praise. Our Psalm today is one of personal thanksgiving, a todah psalm.
It might have been written by David, but it just as easily could have been written by anyone who experienced healing, or redemption from the Pit.
For the Hebrew people, the Pit and Sheol are synonymous. Dennis Brachter reminds us that "in Hebrew thought, Sheol was the abode of the dead, the underworld where people went when they died. Israelites did not have a well-developed concept of an afterlife until after the Babylonian exile. Instead, they adopted metaphors for death from the cultures of surrounding people. Most of these cultures had a mythology that explained death in terms of a story about a journey that the person made underground after death. In these cultures, with the exception of Egypt, there was no concept of a "soul" that survived after death to live in another place. It was merely a way to conceptualize in story form the reality of death and burial.
The mythical stories told of an underworld ruled by gods whose task it was to find rest for the one who died. Of course, the Israelites did not accept the idea of domains of other gods. Yet, they did adopt the language and the metaphor of the underworld to speak of death. In reality, the idea of Sheol or the Pit, simply became a poetic metaphor for the grave and burial. To "go down to Sheol" was simply to die and be buried. The term "soul" that appears in some translations of verse 3 is the Hebrew word nephesh, which in this context simply means person or life.
But even this picture is not quite as straightforward as it sounds. In our more scientific way of thinking, death is a biological function that can be marked at a certain point in time. Yet, in the Israelite thought world, death was a much more extensive concept than biology. Of course, they knew enough to know that when a person stopped breathing, they died. Yet, their conception of death and life extended much more broadly.
Life, far more than simply a biological function, encompassed well-being, happiness, vitality, all the activities that define human existence. Death, then, was any diminishment of that vitality. Sickness, for example, was a form of death, because it diminished the vitality of life, and in a very real sense, was a beginning of death. That was far closer to reality in the ancient world with little medical knowledge and fewer cures than it is in ours." (http://www.cresourcei.org/lectionary/)
Hannah found herself in the Pit. She was one of the two wives of Elkanah. Peninnah, the other wife, had sons and daughters, but Hannah, even though Elkanah loved her best, had none. In Hannah’s day, a woman’s worth was in the children that she bore. Peninnah never let an opportunity go by when she derided Hannah. In her barrenness, Hannah found herself in the Pit.
David, once a shepherd who slew a lion, once a young giant killer, now a king, but a king who took something that wasn’t his. David had taken Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, for his own and had Uriah positioned to be killed in battle. Now the son that Bathsheba bore him was dying. David was in the Pit.
There was a man who had been ill for 35 years. He kept trying to find healing in the pool of Bethsda when the waters were stirred up, but someone else always got to the water first. This man was in the Pit.
There was a woman of Nain who was a widow. Her only son died. Who was going to care for her? She had no one. This woman was in the Pit.
Sometimes we find ourselves in the Pit for no fault of our own. Life’s circumstances, it seems, have conspired against us. We become ill, enemies surround us, we lose all that is important to us. And yet, there are times we land ourselves in the Pit because of our own actions, like David.
Charles Colson seemed to have it all—special counsel to President Nixon, responsible for bringing special interest groups into the White House policy-making process. Known as Nixon’s hatchet man, Colson was willing to be ruthless in getting things done. But then came the Watergate burglary, and all the cover-up that followed, and Colson’s world came crashing down as he awaited arrest. Colson was in the Pit.
Most of us have been in the Pit at one time in our life or another. Perhaps it was illness, perhaps it was losing a job, perhaps it was the failure of a marriage, perhaps it was the loss of someone we love, perhaps it was because of what we ourselves had done.
The Pit is anything that takes us away from God, from life. And yet our God is one who refuses to bow to the power of the Pit. Our God is the One who is life and who, having created us, seeks to bring us to life.
God heard the cries of Hannah in the depths of her Pit, reached down to her and drew her up. Hannah conceived and bore Samuel who became a prophet for the Lord. After Samuel, Hannah had three more sons and two daughters.
God heard the anguish of David, king and grieving father, and sent to him the prophet Nathan who helped David to see his own sin. Even in the midst of death, God drew David up out of the Pit.
Jesus saw the man who had been ill for 35 years, lying by the Pool of Bethesda for a long time, hoping to touch the healing waters. Jesus reached out to this man in the Pit and drew him, saying, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” And at once he was made well, took up his mat and began to walk.
Jesus saw the funeral procession of the only son of a widow in Nain. He had compassion on her. He came forward, touched the bier, and said, “Young man, I say to you rise!” The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Jesus reached into the Pit and drew them up into life.
God saw the morass that Chuck Colson had created for himself, the Pit which he had dug. God sent him a friend and a book, Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis. Even though arrested and in prison, the Pit had no hold on Colson because God had already drawn him up into life.
In the todah tradition, when we have experienced the Pit and been drawn up, we give thanks but giving testimony to what God has done.
Hear the psalmist’s testimony again, this time from The Message by Eugene Peterson:
1 I give you all the credit, God—
you got me out of that mess,
you didn't let my foes gloat.
2-3 God, my God, I yelled for help
and you put me together.
God, you pulled me out of the grave,
gave me another chance at life
when I was down-and-out.
4-5 All you saints! Sing your hearts out to God!
Thank him to his face!
He gets angry once in a while, but across
a lifetime there is only love.
The nights of crying your eyes out
give way to days of laughter.
6-7 When things were going great
I crowed, "I've got it made.
I'm God's favorite.
He made me king of the mountain."
Then you looked the other way
and I fell to pieces.
8-10 I called out to you, God;
I laid my case before you:
"Can you sell me for a profit when I'm dead?
auction me off at a cemetery yard sale?
When I'm 'dust to dust' my songs
and stories of you won't sell.
So listen! and be kind!
Help me out of this!"
11-12 You did it: you changed wild lament
into whirling dance;
You ripped off my black mourning band
and decked me with wildflowers.
I'm about to burst with song;
I can't keep quiet about you.
God, my God,
I can't thank you enough.
God draws us up. Do we have a testimony of thanksgiving to offer before God’s people?
My testimony: barrenness and now two sons
Do you have a testimony to share?
Dance, then, wherever you may be.
I am the Lord of the dance, said he.
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you maybe
And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he! (by Sidney Carter)
Thursday, August 9, 2007
The Years Go By
Today would have been my in-laws 71st wedding anniversary. I came into the family 29 years ago (I was a mere child when I married). Two years earlier, they had had a big 40th anniversary celebration since no one expected Lucille to live until their 50th because her diabetes was so brittle. Thanks be to God for medical advances and for her tenacity. Lucille died the day before their 68th anniversary, three years ago yesterday.
Finding the Pulse
When I work out at Curves, every 7-1/2 minutes, we're supposed to stop and take our pulse. Sometimes I can find it, sometimes not. Even when I find it, I often have trouble counting it with the beat of the music going on or the rhythmic sound of someone still working out.
Coming back to church after being gone for only 14 days, I feel like I'm trying to find the pulse beat. Of course, in the summertime, the pulse can be a bit erratic anyway with folks in & out. It's as though my heart is singing: "Summertime, and the livin' is easy..." But my head starts running ahead with all the details for getting the fall activities underway. I look at the difference on the church's online calendar. Each Sunday in August has two events: the worship services. Beginning with the second Sunday in September, each Sunday has 6-8 events, and that's before we get everything planned out.
It's good that there's an ebb and flow in the rhythm of church life. Even Jesus followed a rhythm of engagement and disengagement, of activity and of contemplation. I guess that my longing is to find a steady heart beat where the ebb and flow are not quite so drastic, and that can only truly happen by allowing my heart to find its rhythm within the heartbeat of God. It just seems that so many things get in the way of truly finding or living in that beat.
Coming back to church after being gone for only 14 days, I feel like I'm trying to find the pulse beat. Of course, in the summertime, the pulse can be a bit erratic anyway with folks in & out. It's as though my heart is singing: "Summertime, and the livin' is easy..." But my head starts running ahead with all the details for getting the fall activities underway. I look at the difference on the church's online calendar. Each Sunday in August has two events: the worship services. Beginning with the second Sunday in September, each Sunday has 6-8 events, and that's before we get everything planned out.
It's good that there's an ebb and flow in the rhythm of church life. Even Jesus followed a rhythm of engagement and disengagement, of activity and of contemplation. I guess that my longing is to find a steady heart beat where the ebb and flow are not quite so drastic, and that can only truly happen by allowing my heart to find its rhythm within the heartbeat of God. It just seems that so many things get in the way of truly finding or living in that beat.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Heat Wave
Wow! Are we ever having a heat wave! It was 78 degrees at 5:30 this morning when I went out for my 4-mile walk. I normally don't sweat easily, but today I was wet by the time I got back home. I'm really glad that it wasn't this hot and humid last Wednesday when my brother-in-law led us up Avalanche, an old ski hill in Boyne City, MI. After a bit of steep slope, we had to climb 428 steps to get close to the top and then continue up the last part of the slope without steps. It was actually a bit cool when we started that hike. Not today!
Thank God for ministries like Safe Havens at First Christian here in Falls Church, where the homeless can come in out of the heat (or cold) for a few hours, and have home-cooked food.
Thank God for ministries like Safe Havens at First Christian here in Falls Church, where the homeless can come in out of the heat (or cold) for a few hours, and have home-cooked food.
Back at Home
My father used to say that the perfect vacation length was three weeks. The first week he couldn't really relax from the job. The second week, he was able to relax. At the end of the third week, he was chomping at the bit to get back to work. Of course, that was also during the days before cell phones when he couldn't be reached easily with troubles at work.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Churches on the Road
Last week, I went with our son to the church that my father-in-law had served for 9 years, while my husband was in the 2nd through 9th grades. Over the last 29 years, I have attended it from time to time while in IN. There is a new pastor this year, another woman following the last pastor who was also a woman. The current pastor is still in seminary evidently. She did an okay job. Her sermon was adequate. She used an illustration from the movie Seabiscuit about how God does not throw us away when we are wounded. It was a good one. I later made clips from the dvd of it that my sister-in-law has.
Today, my son and I went to the church that my other brother-in-law attends in South Bend. He's still up in MI where we stayed with him this week. This is a new pastor as well, however, he has more experience, having just served as a DS. His illustrations were also good. In addressing the parable where the rich man planned to build bigger barns to hold his wealth, but was to meet his end that night, he gave examples of persons who are wealthy and who have used their wealth to give to others, as well as those who have used their wealth just for themselves, building bigger and bigger barns.
It is hard as a pastor not to critique worship services and sermons. I was aware that in some ways I was "grading" each of these services, but I also tried to simply be present as we worshiped our God who gave everything so that we may live in grace.
Today, my son and I went to the church that my other brother-in-law attends in South Bend. He's still up in MI where we stayed with him this week. This is a new pastor as well, however, he has more experience, having just served as a DS. His illustrations were also good. In addressing the parable where the rich man planned to build bigger barns to hold his wealth, but was to meet his end that night, he gave examples of persons who are wealthy and who have used their wealth to give to others, as well as those who have used their wealth just for themselves, building bigger and bigger barns.
It is hard as a pastor not to critique worship services and sermons. I was aware that in some ways I was "grading" each of these services, but I also tried to simply be present as we worshiped our God who gave everything so that we may live in grace.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Fifteen Years
Today, still on the road, I remember my father who died 15 years ago this afternoon. He had ALS, a terrible disease. He was a man who was always in control, and yet had lost all control of his body. His mind was still sharp up until the moment he died. I have always believed that he probably knew which breath was his last. I was with him up until 15 minutes before he died. I knew that he wanted to go, so my prayers had changed from physical healing or even stopping the progression of the disease. That day as I left my childhood home, I prayed with no words, just an image of God's hand gently holding my father and taking his last breath--the holy breath that God breathed into us in creation--and returning it to God.
Thanks be to God for my father who was and is my champion, who never really understood me, but always loved me. Just as my husband tossed a found golf ball (one of daddy's favorite pasttimes) into the small grove where we scattered daddy's ashes with these words, so I offer them up today and always: "Here's to you, Mick."
Thanks be to God for my father who was and is my champion, who never really understood me, but always loved me. Just as my husband tossed a found golf ball (one of daddy's favorite pasttimes) into the small grove where we scattered daddy's ashes with these words, so I offer them up today and always: "Here's to you, Mick."
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Connecting on the Road
I'ts amazing what a better night of sleep will do for us!
After arriving at my sister-in-law's house, yesterday, I called a second cousin who lives close by. I went over for coffee and a chat. Although we met as children, probably at my grandmother's funeral when we were 12, we didn't know each other until three years ago when I ate dinner with her. We're the same age and the same MBTI type. Different paths. Her dad was my father's favorite cousin: my Mick, her Nick. It's interesting how for both of us our fathers were the most admired people in our lives. My father died fifteen years ago on August 4. Her father died about 4-1/2 years ago, shortly after my mother's death. Her mother is still alive, but with Alzheimer's. She has one brother as I do. We both have an awareness that there's not a lot of family left so we need to stay in better contact.
Forgive me, Atkins, for I have sinned. I ate two ears of delicious corn on the cob. Otherwise, I have been doing well resisting the carbs.
After arriving at my sister-in-law's house, yesterday, I called a second cousin who lives close by. I went over for coffee and a chat. Although we met as children, probably at my grandmother's funeral when we were 12, we didn't know each other until three years ago when I ate dinner with her. We're the same age and the same MBTI type. Different paths. Her dad was my father's favorite cousin: my Mick, her Nick. It's interesting how for both of us our fathers were the most admired people in our lives. My father died fifteen years ago on August 4. Her father died about 4-1/2 years ago, shortly after my mother's death. Her mother is still alive, but with Alzheimer's. She has one brother as I do. We both have an awareness that there's not a lot of family left so we need to stay in better contact.
Forgive me, Atkins, for I have sinned. I ate two ears of delicious corn on the cob. Otherwise, I have been doing well resisting the carbs.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Oh, for a good night's sleep!
Three nights on the road thus far. First one was in a bed, but with our son sleeping on an air mattress in the same room. Heard everytime he turned over almost all night. Last two nights on a couch (not a sleep sofa) just wide enough to lay down on.
Even as I write these words of complaint I am aware that I am entirely blessed with so much abundance. There are folks who would think these accomodations were truly palatial, folks who would be grateful for the eggs and bacon at Dig's Diner in Warsaw in the morning. I give thanks for these blessings.
BTW, Dig's is up for auction. We don't know if it will be here next year when we come back.
Even as I write these words of complaint I am aware that I am entirely blessed with so much abundance. There are folks who would think these accomodations were truly palatial, folks who would be grateful for the eggs and bacon at Dig's Diner in Warsaw in the morning. I give thanks for these blessings.
BTW, Dig's is up for auction. We don't know if it will be here next year when we come back.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Travels with Harry
We've had a great trip so far across PA, OH, & IN, listening to Harry Potter the whole way. Jim Dale does an incredible job of making all the characters come alive.
This is a true story of redemption without a sappy moment in it.
On the Road
While 3 of us are on the road, our older son is staying back with a friend whose mom is a member of my church. It's the first time we will have been away from each other for such a long time (2 weeks). I feel like this is a big venture in trust. I know he's in good hands, both human and divine. He's only 16.
I can remember the moment he was placed in my arms when he was just 10 minutes old as the pediatrician said, "He's beautiful, mom." Tears of joy as I carried him into the nursery where his new dad helped give him his first bath.
God truly gives us our children as a trust to love, and in the process learn just how much God loves us and them.
Thanks be to God!
I can remember the moment he was placed in my arms when he was just 10 minutes old as the pediatrician said, "He's beautiful, mom." Tears of joy as I carried him into the nursery where his new dad helped give him his first bath.
God truly gives us our children as a trust to love, and in the process learn just how much God loves us and them.
Thanks be to God!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
At Long Last!
I was one of those who put Falls Church in first place in pre-ordering Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
Wow! What a wrap-up. I won't go into details now so I don't spoil it, but Rowling did herself, and us, proud.
Wow! What a wrap-up. I won't go into details now so I don't spoil it, but Rowling did herself, and us, proud.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Come, Get a Drink at the Well
As I write, I hear the voices of the children from daycare outside my office window squealing with excitement in their Splash Day. There’s nothing like water for good play times.
I just took our younger son to soccer camp with two water bottles to help him cope with the heat of the day. There’s nothing like water to quench the thirst.
We finally have the kitchen sink and new dishwasher hooked up at home so we can actually clean our dishes in the kitchen rather than in the tiny bathroom sink. There’s nothing like water to get cleaned up.
Our front yard is basically a perennial garden or a meadow, but with the hot dry days some of the newer plants begin to droop. After a rain, or after my husband waters them, they perk right up. Tomatoes are growing larger. There’s nothing like water to keep life going.
A well can be a wonderful source of water, but if it is left idle for too long the well can dry up. During the hot dog days of August, or even during the cold days of winter, and even during the beautiful days of fall and spring, we may have a tendency to neglect the well.
Spending time with God is like drawing water from the well. The water quenches our thirst, keeps us alive, cleans us up, and allows for joy in our life. When we don’t spend time with God, we neglect the source of that life-giving Water and we may well find that we have become dry and parched.
During August, why not use the Psalms as a way of sipping from the well of living water? You’ll find them readily available right smack dab in the middle of your Bible. Or if you like to use the internet, here are some sources for you.
NRSV
Almost any other translation
Upper Room resources for praying the Psalms
Allow the Living Water to drench your spirit so that you may live, quench your thirst, get cleaned up and have joy!
The Peace of Christ be with you
Saturday, July 14, 2007
The Boy Who Lived
Yesterday, we saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Not bad. While they left out a lot from the book, some of my favorite scenes, I think they did a good job of getting the overall story across. And Dumbledore's protrayal was not nearly as dismal as it was in The Goblet of Fire, so seemingly plaintive much of the time, twisting his hands in anxiety. That's not Dumbledore by a long shot. Of course, I think they didn't make Umbridge as toadlike as she is in the book. We only really heard her little coughs, ahem, ahem, at Harry's hearing. And we didn't get to hear, in her office, as she complained that the dementors she had ordered to kill Harry had failed.
Of course, we are waiting with bated breath for The Deathly Hallows to come out. Will Harry live or die? Whose side is Snape really on? Do the Malfoys change sides? Will Harry see behind the veil where Sirrius vanished when killed by Bellatrix? Will Fawkes rise from the ashes once again? Is there redemption?
Questions, questions. And soon there will be answers.
Of course, we are waiting with bated breath for The Deathly Hallows to come out. Will Harry live or die? Whose side is Snape really on? Do the Malfoys change sides? Will Harry see behind the veil where Sirrius vanished when killed by Bellatrix? Will Fawkes rise from the ashes once again? Is there redemption?
Questions, questions. And soon there will be answers.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Quilting Angels
What fun! Our Sisters in the Spirit group has been working on the design for paraments for the Communion table and the baptismal font for Advent. Tonight, we saw the fabrics we will use to piece together the background and use for the angel appliques. We got the idea and angel designs from Adoration Quilts by Rachel W.N. Brown of Rachel's Quilt Patch in Staunton, VA.
The three angels will be about 15 inches high each. Maybe we can work on other pieces in years to come. After the angels, shepherds? Camels? The Manger?
Not only will we create something of beauty for the sanctuary, we will also have great fellowship in the process, just like the old quilting bees.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Remember Who You Are
In Will Willimon's blog of July 2, he recorded his notes from First, Break All the Rules by Marcus Burkingham and Curt Coffman. The note that caught my eye was: "You succeed by trying to capitalize on who you are, not by trying to fix who you aren’t." In the book, the authors evidently are making the point that the best management style is to go with a person's strengths, not try to retrain their weaknesses.
When I work with people with the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, I try to emphasize that our dominant function will always be our strongest function. While our inferior function begins to develop more in our middle years, and we may get a real boost of energy using that inferior function, it will never be as strong as our dominant function. So when our life depends on it, always go with our dominant function. In MBTI terms for me, that means while I may get a kick out of using my sensing function, when a matter is really important I need to go with my intuitive function.
Theologically, what does it mean to capitalize on who you are, not try to fix who you are not? Does this mean I stick with my broken self, and not seek wholeness through God's grace? I'm not sure I want to do that, or say that to people. But if I look at the question in terms of my baptism, then who I am is a redeemed child of God covered with grace given certain gifts for sharing that grace experience with others.
When I work with people with the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, I try to emphasize that our dominant function will always be our strongest function. While our inferior function begins to develop more in our middle years, and we may get a real boost of energy using that inferior function, it will never be as strong as our dominant function. So when our life depends on it, always go with our dominant function. In MBTI terms for me, that means while I may get a kick out of using my sensing function, when a matter is really important I need to go with my intuitive function.
Theologically, what does it mean to capitalize on who you are, not try to fix who you are not? Does this mean I stick with my broken self, and not seek wholeness through God's grace? I'm not sure I want to do that, or say that to people. But if I look at the question in terms of my baptism, then who I am is a redeemed child of God covered with grace given certain gifts for sharing that grace experience with others.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Water, Water Reflections, Water Remembrance
My younger son and I went to the pool this afternoon. He played in the huge pool that's for anyone who just wants to play, and went down the big water slides, while I swam laps in the lap pool. I love the play of the water reflections on the bottom of the pool. It is so comforting to me. I can feel the stress easing out of my body as I see the reflections made by the ripples in the water from the stroke of my arms and the kick of my legs.
As far back as I can remember, I have loved water. When I was only 9 months old, I've been told, I made my first trip from TX to AL to my grandparents' lakehouse. I hadn't gotten the shots necessary for swimming in lake or river water since my parents weren't planning on me being in the water at such a young age. Evidently, I put up such a fuss on seeing the water and everyone else in it that they got a galvanized steel tub, filled it with water from the house, and then floated it in the lake with me happily splashing about in it.
As one ordained to the celebration of the sacraments, all the connections with water are so important to me. Not only is this the water in which I swim, it is also the water with which I baptize, the water of my baptism, the water of Jesus' baptism, and the water of creation.
Thanks be to God for glorious water!
"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you. (Isaiah 43:2).
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Camping Out @ Home
Our family likes to camp. Well, 3 of us like to camp. Okay, maybe 2-1/2 of us like to camp (I'm not really up for tent camping anymore). Now, we are getting to camp out at home. It's not as bad as 3 years ago when we truly had to camp out in the basement while the renovation on our home was being completed.
It's the cooking and eating part, this time. We are having a couple of new cabinets, a dishwasher and new countertop installed in our 1950s kitchen. And the old remaining metal cabinets will be refinished/repainted. Since the Fourth of July, we can't even get a glass of water in the kitchen, let alone wash dishes. Sometimes, doing things in a more simple way can help remind us how few thing we really need in our lives. I confess that I get overwhelmed by all the stuff and it tends to distract me from what is truly needful. I get in more of a "Martha" mode, while I really need to be more of a "Mary." I also confess that I really like gadgets. I'm writing this on my MacBook Pro, while my newish Treo 755P is charging. I played with the iPhone yesterday at the Apple store. All cool stuff, but does it really help me relate the good news of Jesus in people's lives? While I'm not giving it all up and going back to the stone ages, I do need to keep it all in perspective as I seek the one thing that is truly needful in my life.
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