The Advent Season

Advent is not the season of Christmas the way we typically view it. Jesus has not been born yet, we are expectantly awaiting his arrival. We are sitting, waiting for the contractions to start that will change the world. Jesus did not just appear in the manger. Mary still had contractions and had to birth a breathing child, and survive the process! The risks of pregnancy and delivery were so much greater some two thousand years ago. That's why it's so absurd that Mary rode the donkey. Could you imagine being 9 months pregnant, knowing that any day was going to be the day your water broke? And here you are on a donkey in the middle of nowhere with nowhere private or comfortable to go if/when it started?

Do we ever think of those hours that Mary was laying there in a stable, surrounded by animals, Joseph by her side, and him saying "breathe!!! breathe!!! Come on, Mary, you've got this! breathe! Just a little more!" I expect in his head he was thinking "O my gosh, what do we do now? What's next?" It's not like they could call 911 or anything of the sort. They were probably lucky if there was a midwife anywhere around. But maybe they were lucky; maybe they brought their own midwife on the road with them. Maybe she was there the whole time.

But that doesn't negate the pain she had to go through to bring Jesus into the world.

And not only was she bringing her son into the world in a stable, she was bringing the savior of the world onto earth. I wonder if that comforted her, or made her more anxious about the successful delivery.

Do we ever think of that?

I approach this season with a different perspective this year. I'm in a season of expectantly awaiting news that will change my life. I am waiting knowing that more pain is probably on the way before that joyous moment that peace, hope, joy, and love enter into my current situation. I am sitting here, knowing that seasons of waiting are often the hardest. Knowing that there are singular moments that can change everything.

But, we can't rush the waiting. Waiting is part of life. And when the next moment comes that turns everything on its head, it is made that much sweeter. Waiting isn't easy, and it sure doesn't come without its moments of uncertainty, but surely the moment of arrival is sweet. Isn't it the build-up to Christmas that kids are so worked up about? After the presents are opened things start shifting back to normal.

It's all part of the seasons of life.

The same way we can't skip the cross during Lent and into Easter, we can't skip Advent and jump to the arrival of Christ in the world. Christmas only comes after the waiting. We wait mere weeks; weeks where Mary was having braxton hicks contractions, feeling Jesus move in her stomach, and probably just wanting to rest a little while on the road to Bethlehem (I can hear her yelling at the donkey she was riding, and subsequently at Joseph: "Can't we go just a bit faster!! Speed this donkey up!!!"). Mary waited through 9 months of confusion and being ostracized.

We can wait a couple weeks.

Sit and wait.

Jesus is coming.

Go and Make: Religionless Christianity

I've spent a great deal of time this semester reading/talking/studying/exploring/etc what it looks like to be a healthy church. This is the topic of my independent study course, and it brings me to wonder over and over again what I am doing with my life. If the church is 'dying', will I even have a job at the end of this? What does the church look like, and how does it function without 'religion'? I mimic Bonhoeffer's question: What is religionless Christianity?

I've decided the large paper I am to write is going to start with Bonhoeffer, and it is going to go through Biblical examples of the church; early historical representations of what the community looked like. Indeed, what it looked like isn't really the issue. That is what has gotten us into so much trouble to begin with. We focus so much on the form of the church: the committees, the budgets, the deacons, the Sunday School teachers, etc, that we forget the function of the church. Jesus never told us what our churches should look like and how they should be governed, but he gave us instructions on how to be the church. In trying to do church, we have lost the fact that We are already the church.

We do not need a building to be the church. We do not need to meet on Sunday mornings at 11a to be the church, and we do not have to be on a committee to be a good Christian. In fact, sometimes, these things are hindrances to our being the church. We forget that the church is about relationships, reaching out to the poor, reaching out to the sick, reaching out to everyone. It is this everyone reaching that makes me question our models of missions. I'm not even convinced I believe in the Western model of missions anymore; at least, not as I see it being played out in the churches I observe and am a part of. Missions isn't a one day, weekend, or week long trip. Those are great experiences, but if those experiences don't transform the function of your life and ministry at home, that form was worthless.

When we relegate missions to a part of our church, to certain groups, to a meeting once or twice a year, or a committee that is to take care of that work, we have lost the point. That is not it AT ALL. That is completely backwards. The Great Commission said "GO!" It did not say "Wait around and form a committee and only some people will have to show up, and only some will have to take these silver things out of their pockets." In fact, the Great Commission said nothing about money at all! It said "GO!" "GO and MAKE!" Those are active verbs, not passive. They are imperatives, orders. 

So what does it mean to be the church without the form? What does it mean to be the church without a church?

It means "going" and "making".

GO! Go to your neighbors, go down the street, talk to the secretary at your work, or the custodian. Talk to the beggar on the street that you just averted your eyes from. Take someone out to lunch.

MAKE! Make friends, make relationships, talk about life, struggles, fun, absurd... relationships lead to discipleship. Without a relationship, the words you say will mean nothing. It is the relationship that says so much more than your words ever will. Your actions speak louder than your words. Don't worry about your words. Don't worry about how to "slip God into the conversation." Believe me, if you are living your life in a Godly way, and you are caring about and for the people around you, that will say more about the God you believe in and worship than your words ever will.

You don't need a church to show someone God's love. You need you! You don't need the church. And the ultimate goal is clearly not getting 'them' to attend your church. Jesus says nothing about attendance in this. Nothing.

Matthew 28:19-20(NIV): "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Go and make this week. 

Forever in today

It is always seems to be forever between my posts. I'd apologize, but I've decided they'll just come when they come.

You see, my second year of school has started, and I'm not nearly as organized as I was last year. Not in any way. Instead, I'm trudging through, making sure everything is getting done. I feel as if I'm not the only second year feeling this way. We are no longer the new kids on the block (ha! if only!), nor are we about to graduate. We are in the middle just having to use our determination to make it.

We are not the first to feel this way, and we will not be the last.

Most of our lives are lived in this period actually. I mean, think about the seasons of the year:
There is the beginning of Spring, the end of Spring.
Beginning of Summer, and the end of Summer.
Beginning of Fall, the end of Fall.
And then the beginning of Winter, and the end of Winter.

That is eight special days of the year. Eight beginnings and endings. Out of 365 days of the year. The other 357 are spent either looking forward to the next season or remembering the one that has passed. We live with expectations and rememberings. But more importantly, we live.

We live. We live in the yesterdays and tomorrows.

But forever there are todays. There is only so long that you can look forward to the next season, the next job, the next semester... or remember the last semester, the last vacation, the last school...

At some point, we live in today. The forever of monotony. The drudgery. The mundane.

This is where we live. These days do not have to feel mundane while we are in them, though. These are the days where the most change can be made. The fun is not in expecting things, or remembering things. The fun is in doing things. Do things on these mundane days. Do things on the forevers. Do things in the middle.

Forever lasts a long time. So stop looking forward. Stop looking backward.

Find your forever in today.

Today is worth more than any tomorrow.

Forever.

Why I don't want to grow up

I do not want to grow up. I really don't. I've spent much of my life growing up faster than I should and it was only later than I finally let myself chill out a bit (granted, there is some growing up that you can't undo).

But really, I do not want to grow up. They say growing up is a choice.

This is not to be confused with being responsible. I am responsible. I do my work and I do it well.

But I won't grow up.

You see, as we 'grow up' and become stiff, we forget all the good that is around us. When we are children it is okay to sit in the grass and smell the flowers. Literally. Why should I forget this as my chronological age continues to rise?

Why should I stop imagining all the things that could happen?

Why should I stop laughing with children as they run around an empty field with a hoop and a stick?

Why should I stop pretending to be a superhero when it seems that everything else is going wrong?

Why should I stop dancing when I get good news?

Why should I stop breaking out into song whenever I feel moved to?

Why should I not make stupid jokes and laugh when someone else does?

Why should I forget to put a smile on my face in the mornings?

Why should I stop taking time for relationships?

Why should I put shoes on my feet that make it impossible to run at a moments notice?

Why put shoes on at all?

Do shoes suddenly make someone more respectable?

Is that why we like to think we're better than people on the other side of the world?

Because we have shoes?


I don't want to wear shoes.
I want to feel the ground under my feet,
And give my toes room to roam.

I want to play and laugh,
And sing and dance,
Dangle my toes in ocean foam.

I want to joke and run,
And talk all night,
For no reason at all.

I want to roll the snow,
And throw it hard,
Jump in leaves in fall.

I want to be old and gold,
Not old and mold,
Laughter crushing the room.

In touch with fun,
And each blessing around,
Not suppressing is gloom.

Talk with strangers,
Smile with friends,
And romp with God's creatures.

Watch the birds,
Catch a frog,
Examine their features.

Never forgetting to learn,
Always adventuring,
Each day brand new.

I want to be that one,
Never growing up,
Being one of the few.



"Laughter is the closest thing to the grace of God." ~Karl Barth

I want to laugh forever. 

Christianity and Justice

So, let's take a minute and look back at a few weeks ago and the debate over chicken. I still feel strongly about it, but only to the points that I raised in my last post. The point that chicken isn't what matters, but justice is. Our neighbors matter.

I know that by saying "take religion out of the equation," some people were not happy. That's alright. We don't all have to be happy all the time, nor do we have to agree with each other.

Today, I'm bringing religion back into the equation.

Christians and Justice. What does this mean? What does it mean that our founding fathers did not put it in the Constitution that God was "the Creator"? Were the founding fathers not Christian? Were they not believers? Did they have no faith???

NO!

In fact, they were better Christians than most of us today. This group of men came together and realized that at the heart of Christianity was not the belief that people should be punished for not believing in God, but that the world God created was centered on love. LOVE is, essentially, justice. Love in action. The world Christ lived in, and the example he set, was not to beat people who didn't believe in him, or that were different than him. The adultress was not punished, but accepted and stood up for. Christ did not deny her life. In fact, Christ STOPPED people from stoning her.

Are we doing that today?

Is the Christianity that exists in our world today standing up for people whether they are Christian or not? Just because you don't agree with someone's choices or wishes, is that any reason to belittle them? Is it any reason to deny them their life? 

Is the example of Christians (the uber-conservative, picketing Christians) anything to envy? This model lends itself to PUSHING PEOPLE AWAY! I don't care how much of the Bible you know, if, in fact, your actions make people hate you! I'm not saying to go with the flow and compromise your beliefs, but to me, the essential foundation of Christianity is love and welcoming.

Justice is loving and welcoming people that are not just like you. It is recognizing our differences and yet moving forward. It is fighting for the people that are different than you. It is not differentiating. It is not denying rights.

Seriously: Where is the love? Why has love and compassion left our world in favor of hatred and division. As much good as there is in the world, and the good work that is being done, it is negated by the negativity and divisiveness.

This is not okay.

Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. (John 8:7)

Love your neighbor

There are a lot of blogs I want to write at the moment. But the most pressing is my own opinion (we all seem to have them, don't we) about all the debating going on about chicken, apparently. Honestly, I don't care whether you ate a chicken sandwich yesterday, or whether you will never eat one again (go ahead, judge me how you want for that statement), but I don't.

I, honestly, care more about what you do every other day of the year.

Let's take religion out of the equation. For some of my friends, this is hard to do. For others, you'd rather religion be off the table forever. Whatever your personal beliefs, let's leave them at the door and wipe our feet before we come to the table. No shoes are allowed at this table. No remnants of prior adventures. Today, we all wear new clothes of white and come unmarked to the table. The table - the ultimate symbol of serving and being served; a place of welcome.

All are welcome at my table.

Let's go back to 1776, to the founding fathers, who also sat at a table, and who drafted our Declaration of Independence. They, too, wanted to leave religion off the table (please don't try to argue this point, their words were chosen very carefully just because they knew the debates we are having today were going to come). The declaration (2.1) says:

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

 "Their Creator." Not God, not Jesus, not Mohammed, not Allah, not Shiva. Just "their Creator." So whatever, or whoever, created us, we (ALL) are created equal. All of us. Every single one of us. Even if you believe in the big bang, what does that mean for the created (in this case, created by biological systems) embryo in a womb? The same thing that created your life, created that life. Just a thought. 

But not only are we equal, but we have the right to life. All of us have the right to life. That means the children, the poor, the rich, the straight, the gay, the tall, the short, the disabled, the sick, the homeless... I could go on. We all have the right to life. This means that no matter your religious belief, you have no right to take away someone's life in this country. NO REASON. 

We are all endowed with liberty. What did our founding fathers mean by this? This means that you have your free will. You can live your life as you choose. To some, this refers to the social contract of life: How do you view your life within the society where you live? We make our choices and live within our communities. Your choices come with the weight of responsibility for those actions on your shoulders. Not on whatever person gave you your beliefs, not on the god you chose to believe in. No: the weight of the decisions you make land on your shoulders. Personal responsibility: something we are losing more and more in our world today. 

And we are all endowed with the pursuit of happiness. It seems like many people are too wrapped up in trying to live the life we are endowed with to pursue happiness. And that is unfortunate. But again, this gets down to the fact that we are ALL endowed with the right of the pursuit of happiness. All of us. Even the people you don't like. All of us. 

And all of this is just from our Declaration of Independence. How does the Constitution begin?

"We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."

 Wow. They establish Justice. Is that what you are doing with your time? Are you seeking out justice for your fellow American? By beating up, or ignoring the plight of your neighbor are you helping to insure domestic Tranquility? It says we are going to provide for the common defence. This means defence for everyone. Our troops do not fight for special interest groups, they fight for every person on American soil, and every American overseas. Just sayin'. General Welfare again refers to everyone. Every person. And the Blessings of Liberty are to the founders, their generation, and ALL their children later. ALL of them. Not just some of them. With this document, no American is to be disowned by their country, or denied its rights. No matter what. 


So, what were you doing today, and what will you do tomorrow, that upholds what our country was built upon? Are you making decisions that are allowing your neighbor, your fellow American (your fellow person!) to their inalienable rights? Are you allowing them their life, liberty and pursuit of happiness? Are you allowing them Justice, Tranquility, defence, general Welfare, and the Blessings of Liberty? Are you, today, being a good American, a good person? 


Even Jesus said "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's." In this case, aren't they the same thing?

Love your neighbor. 

I mean, is it really that difficult to love the people around you?

Hate accomplishes nothing. Apathy accomplishes nothing. But love, well, love conquers all.

The Moral Pastor... and what does that mean?

I went on vacation last week. It was fantastic and much needed in my life, and made me very happy. I didn't do anything particularly exciting, but there are definitely good stories from the trip...

However, one of things that is sitting with me is a conversation I got into one evening:
What is the moral role of the pastor?

This was not a discussion with someone in the ministry, or someone going into the ministry... just a regular person who attends church on occasion.

I learned a lesson about 5 years ago: Pastor's are people, too. They make mistakes, they live lives, they are not perfect. I *loved* learning this. It was freeing.

But the discussion I had was centered on the idea that the pastor should be an example (which I agree with), but to the point that they aren't people, too. I feel that the idea of the perfect person is one of the things that increases burn out rates in pastors. With such high expectations, how is the pastor supposed to LIVE? Does the pastor pretend to be perfect and not admit flaws in order to be a good example, or is being a good example living with it all and living in true community?

Where is the pastor in the church community? The ideal to live up to, but not to be included? In order to model community, isn't authenticity necessary? Does a moral pastor living authentically in community mean the pastor literally has to have all their crap together before stepping into the pulpit, with no flaws left?

How is that fair?

What do you think? What is the moral role of the pastor and how does that fit into the necessity of a pastor to have a life and be a person that struggles? What is too big for a pastor and what isn't? What is a sin, and what isn't?

For example:
Can a pastor drink? Is that a moral issue? Does it depend on the community?
Smoke? Is it a sin or just not a good idea for a pastor to do that?
Does being a spiritual leader mean they must also be healthy, because that is a good example?
Where does "being a good example" stop?

Goodbyes are never easy...

I've said a lot of goodbyes in my life. I've said a lot of hellos, as well.

But I realized something: Goodbyes never get easier. 

And I don't know why, for me, they seem to be getting harder. You'd think I'd get better at them the more of them I give, but I think I've learned some lessons over the years.

I've learned...
1) some goodbyes are going to be forever.
2) it's not just the big goodbyes that matter.
3) you don't know when it's forever.
4) each person deserves to know what they mean to you.

I've gotten much more emotional over the last four years. And maybe it's because of the goodbyes that I wasn't able to say.

See, last year, as I drove myself up north, back to the town of my birth, I saw the sign that announced I was back in my hometown, and I started to cry. Thinking about it now makes me cry. Part of it is because the last time I had left that town (in 2009) was the last time I had seen my grandmother alive. I was coming back to a town that was forever changed from what I knew. I had never even been able to say goodbye. It hurt to drive in knowing that it would never be the same. Not like that.

I spent the summer hanging out with my family. My aunt and uncle, cousins, second cousins, my sister and her kids, my other sister and her kids, my brother, my dad, my other aunts and uncles... in and out of homes and living the life. I left at the end of the summer broken-hearted that I wouldn't be there for the foreseeable future. Going back this weekend makes me insanely happy.

All these goodbyes in my life have made the hellos so much sweeter; no matter if they are new or old.

Hellos are definitely my favorite, but I will relish every goodbye. Goodbyes mark chapters in our lives, periods of significance. Goodbyes are probably one of the most important things we say, because they let us know our lives are changing and moving. They are the rocks in our rivers, causing rapids that help keep us moving and make it interesting.

Enjoy the rapids.

Stagnant

Let's get real for a minute...

When I first arrived back stateside (almost 13 months ago), I understood exactly why people need furloughs. I was burnt out on certain things and needed to be refreshed. I wanted to hear only English for a while, and I wanted to eat all the food I'd been missing. I wanted a chance to do nothing but rest and catch up.

I knew I was about to enter a time of learning, a new season. My brain would be expanding, and, hopefully, my heart would, too. I was ready to be in this time, and I knew it was a necessary time for me. I knew it was my next step (that didn't make it any easier, but at least I knew it was right). So, I rested, and then I set out on my Divinity School journey.

It has been a great journey. Not always easy, but great, and so worth the time, effort, and money. I have a great community around me. I hope I am an important part of my community. I have a great church community around me that I feel more attached to than ever. I've made amazing new friends, and some of them have become more like family to me than I could have imagined at the beginning of this year.

This summer, as I sit here on my couch (and yes, procrastinating something else I should be doing), I realize that a few hours ago I voiced a concern that I hadn't noticed until that moment:

I feel stagnant. 

I feel like I'm not moving right now. I'm sitting here doing what I'm supposed to do. I am staying busy even though I am not working. There are things in my life that give me great joy. Things I enjoy doing immensely. And yet, I feel like there's supposed to be something more. I feel like my time of resting is over. I'm ready to pour out myself again. I've been fed. I've been taught. I'm ready to be used again. My vessel is overflowing, and I want to do.

Over the last month I have done a lot of things that have made me feel right. Those moments that are work, but are so easy that they can't be otherwise.

So I wonder, what's next? 

Where do I go from this very spot? What is the step forward? What is the right step forward? What am I looking for? Is there somewhere that is looking for what I have to offer? What is it that I have to offer?

I don't have the answers, but this is where I am right now. Feeling like the next step needs to be soon, but not pushing it, either. I don't want to jump too soon at something that isn't right. I don't know that I necessarily want to go back to being a 'boss' or in a supervisory role of some sort, but I think I'm ready to do something meaningful again. Not stuffing envelopes. Not simply answering phones. Something real. The menial things are part of nearly every job, but I don't want my job title to be "pencil sharpener."

I'm ready to travel. And part of it is my literal stagnation. Other than 2 trips up north (one last summer, and one in January), I have not been anywhere since my return. I'm itching to literally move. I need to go somewhere. It does not help that my heart is aching to be overseas again. And that others want me there, as well. I have been still more this year than I have been in years. I think I haven't been in one place for an entire year since the calendar year of 2006. That is a long time ago.

I need to do something. These two things together make me really restless.

It could also be that I've already had nearly two months of summer vacation.

I feel like the seasons are ready to change. It's as if I can feel the humidity in my life waiting for the bottom to drop out and let the flowers grow.

The seeds have rested in the soil. It is time to break through the shell. So where will my flowers be?

The atoms of life

"Somewhere along the way I lost the idea that the big things are grand things. Along the way I learned that little things are often greatest. I am not overwhelmed by the beauty of the falls, but by the specks of water that make them. I am not overwhelmed by humanity but by people. Not by sunlight, but by the light of the spirit. The atoms of life that make us. The acts that create us. The littlest things. Life overwhelming." - Me

I was sitting here today, looking through some pictures from my past endeavors throughout the world, and I was really interested in this one of Niagara Falls from last summer. I was looking at the picture, realizing that it isn't the falls that make me marvel. It is the power of the falls. And what makes the power but each part of the falls. It is the little things that make all the difference. 

It is not the big things in the world that overwhelm us. It is the little ones. The smallest speck of water, many of them coming together, that's what makes the falls. The best parts of my travels have been the little things. Picking up a piece of glacier and licking it, essentially drinking water from thousands of years ago. Sitting in the jungle of NZ, or the mountains of Australia, the penguins of Philip Island, the beaches of southern Asia, or the rocky roads of Europe. These were the little moments. It wasn't things like the Taj Mahal (which is beautiful, don't get me wrong), but it is the smaller things that stick out in my mind. I don't remember the Tower of London the same way I remember the family I stayed with in a small village in southern England. 

The little things. 

The friend who brings smiles to your day. 
The person who laughs at the stupid joke. 
Letting someone with children in front of you in line. 
The blade of grass that is perfectly green. 
The counter melody that allows the melody to sing. 
The ostinato of life that keeps you moving. 

The little marvels. 

The atoms of life. 

Blessed.

Interesting...

I am working on a paper about calling. This is interesting because it is a topic that I actually have four blogs written about but not yet posted. In this realm, I am also working on an exegesis from the book of Jeremiah that has me writing on this same topic (and the summary of that will be shared when it is finished, followed then by the blog series). I hope you each join with me on that journey.

Calling is something that I think is very unique in both our secular and religious lives. It is not something we can prove but it is something we can have affirmed. And I think that is something to consider (note to self: use that distinction in the paper!). No-one can tell us we didn't feel the call, because they can't tell us what we feel. All others can do is pray for guidance for the called as they discern the way.

And then we come to the oft-quoted line: "God does not call the equipped but equips the called." (I should use that in my paper, too.) In the mountain church tradition that I'm writing about, this is believed adamantly. A preacher would be given the ability to interpret the word and would be given the word extemporaneously (aka: not prepared beforehand). If you prepared beforehand, you were cheating, and either weren't called, or didn't have enough faith to trust that God was going to give you the words to speak.

Interesting...

It's interesting that when you feel called to something, people like to point out the difficulties to you as if you don't realize them already. Callings are always meant to be easy. I mean, look at Isaiah (called to fail) and Jeremiah (called to bring the bad news). It's not an easy path. Hopefully, if you've been called to something, you realize that it's not easy, and that it doesn't happen overnight.

Interesting...

It's interesting that calling is a word that isn't just in our religious lives, but is used in our secular lives often as people try to figure out their vocational goals. Often you hear it in the terms, "I'm just meant to do this."

We are so fearfully and wonderfully made that our souls know what we're meant to do. That means pushing through the pain.

Let's talk about pain for a second. I've recently begun working out at a gym. For years, I confess, I've been scared to work out. Not because of how I looked, or what my fitness level was, or even of other people seeing me in the gym. I was scared because years ago, I was a compulsive exerciser (among other things). Whenever I would get on a kick to be healthy, I would scare myself out of doing too much because I didn't want to become that person again. I decided I needed to just get over that and do what's good for me. And of course, I realize that I do, indeed, still have a love of working out. I love feeling my body move in sync, and with a purpose. I love the feeling after I work out. If I didn't have school, work, and homework to keep me otherwise occupied, I could probably be there all day.

But that doesn't mean it's easy. You can ask one of my friends who went with me the other day. When things get tough, I have to sit there and push through it. If the resistance suddenly goes up on the machine I have to say "just keep going," or "you can do this!" I have to remember all the good with it. It is hard. It's meant to be hard. But I love it. I've never (in my entire life) left a work out wishing I hadn't done it. I've don't think I've ever actually gone to the gym with an attitude of not wanting to be doing that (maybe I don't like the environment, but I like the things I'd be doing)... Maybe that's a gift, or maybe it's a curse... but it's not easy.

I'm not going to say everything easy is bad, because it's not. We all have our gifts. Some people learn languages quickly, or can do math in their head like a wizard, or don't need the instructions to put together a bookshelf. Awesome. But not everything is easy. And I can almost guarantee that if you've been called to something long term, like, for life, then it's not going to be easy.

But we should remember that the best stories don't happen on the flatland with no obstacles, but come from the ups and downs and arounds of life.

Interesting...

An extraordinary normal day...

There are some days that are just extremely busy from a time and task point of view. Today was one of those days in my life. It was entirely too long and filled with just too many things and people. It was so full, that this evening, even though I'm exhausted, I need some time to wind down from it all.

There are a lot of ideas and things roaming in my head from a lot of different conversations I had today, and each one of them was amazing. For the first time in a while I felt like I was in my place, in a place, and with a place. I was wanted and needed, desired and required, leading and following, sitting and doing. It was a balance, but mostly it was *me*. It was me at a point that I haven't been at in a while. It was me in a way that knew what I was doing. It was me in a place that wasn't lost.

I was back on the map.

I *am* back on the map.

I've been off of it for a while. Re-establishing old relationship, building new ones, scaffolding stories and experiences, meshing old and new. Today, it all seemed to fit. Everything I was, everywhere I've been, and everything I've become all took time to *be* today.

I can't get into specifics, and I don't even know if the specifics would make sense out of my head, but I'll just say that it felt good. It was like, for some reason, today was the day I was going to live into where I'm supposed to be going; as if today was a culminating day.

When in actuality, it was just a normal, super-busy day. In reality, there was no time to do anything except the tasks. Maybe take a breath here and there, but only maybe.

Perhaps I thrive on the minimal-oxygen-available type of existence, but I think it's more that I thrive on these relational, meaningful conversations and mutual respect. Today I felt like a person who had a place. And that's a hard thing to find when you are a lowly graduate student. Today I felt like I truly was authentically me.

And it felt good.

Time flies...

No, seriously. Time FLIES. I was semi-joking with people at the beginning of the school year when they were telling me, "As soon as you know it, the three years will have gone by." This process feels really long in the midst of it. It feels like assignment after assignment, and paper after paper (I'll have you know I've printed over 500 sheets of paper since I started school at the end of August).

But really, I'm sitting here about 5.5 weeks from the end of the semester (classes, at least), and 6.5 weeks from being completely done with the first year, the first THIRD of my graduate education, and I'm thinking, "Well, where did that year go?"

I really don't know where it went, but I've had an awfully good time during it. I've spent time with old friends, made new friends, explored new things, learned a new language (and loving it), been busy out of my mind at moments, and pulled ONE all-nighter. I am not going to do that again. I'm really against them, and I always have been (after high school, that is). But really. I just can't do those anymore. My body does not take to missing sleep very well.

But really. I think back to all the work I've done this year, all the papers I've written and pages I've read. The ink I've gone through, and the hours of studying. Time and seasons marching on while I force information into my brain. Information that is going in easier than music history ever did. I don't know what the difference is between now and undergrad, but I'm really learning things much better than I did. A sign maybe?

Life is ever interesting, and it's ever-moving. Time stands still for no man. And here I sit, wasting some more of it.

I have no idea where the last year has gone, but it will be awesome in 2 years when I'm thinking "It's almost time to graduate!!!"

Until then, I'm going to enjoy the ride on the wings of the clock.

Peace.

The smell of morning...

It's not often that I get to sit and enjoy this smell. I'm normally already in class by this point, or I'm in church, or I'm doing homework for the upcoming week.

But this morning, I'm in my house with the doors and windows open, reading my Bible (for class, but we'll ignore that fact for right now), and listening to the music of nature. The birds have been out full force the last few days, and quite regularly I see cardinals that make me smile on my route around town. The sun is shining. There is a little breeze. This is all quite fantastic.

It is March. In America.

This feels like February in my old home. This could easily be a January or February morning sitting on the grass in front of my house playing scrabble with the neighbors when another neighbor comes by on a walk with her dogs. I hear different bird songs now. And none of them are the incessant rapping of a bird on my window. I kind of miss that bird.

More cars go by here than ever did at my old house. But if I pretend, the train whistle could be mistaken for honking horns on the street. I like to think that sometimes. If I changed the setting just a little, I might be able to forget all together that I moved back to this country.

But slowly my eyes open and I realize that power is on, my house is quite a bit larger, and it has carpet. I look around and things are a bit (ha!) more modern. I hear no honking of car horns, or tourists around town. Tourists do not come to this town. And sometimes, that just makes it a little depressing.

Anything exciting going on today? Not particularly. I will not hear noise from the street. I will not feel the earth shake when a boomer goes off. I will not schedule activities around power outages, or have a neighbor run over screaming "APPLES WERE CHEAP TODAY!" I will not light a fire this evening, nor will I venture out to walk around a quaint town that always has someone to stop in and talk to.

I make my own little town wherever I go, instead. I don't have shop owners to stop in and talk to (because who in their right mind owns a shop and then sits in it, apparently), but I have other people to bother. The distance between us is greater, but it's worth the effort. There is something lost in it, I think, in getting in and out of the car. Cars make everything feel so disconnected.

And that's interesting, because they are connecting bigger geographical areas.

But how much community is lost because we are no longer around home when we are doing our business? What does it say that it is cheaper for me to buy gas in a neighboring city so I will go there to get it rather than visit my neighbor? What does it say that some people will drive an hour to work with strangers because it pays better, at the loss of having friends close-by in times of need?

Just interesting thoughts as I sit here this morning, with my eyes wishing they were closed, remembering a simpler life in a country on the other side of the world.

Seasons of...

...no, not love. Though, as I write that title, the song comes into my head loud and proud, and I might have to play it while I write this entry. (only to go look for it and see that it is not in my iTunes. How lame is that? I need to find it and put it on there)

But, back to my original thought.

Seasons of...

Learning.
Giving.
Working.
Thinking.
Contemplating.

Today marks the first day of Lent. For whatever reason, it is 40 days long and leads into the day and season of Easter. So what is Lent?

40 days. To do what?
Learn. Give. Work. Think. Contemplate.
Learn about yourself. About Christ. About the world around you.
Give to the community that holds you.
Work on yourself. On your faith.
Think about your life.
Contemplate the journey to the cross.

Don't yet jump the gun and think about Easter. Take some time to sit here, right now, at the beginning of this season. Sit in the journey ahead. Don't jump to the finish. Don't leap over every meaningful thing before the sunrise. Don't forget that before the end, there was a story, a road, a mile of tests.

Sit here with the unknown.
Sit with the confusion.
Sit in the despair.

Sitting in this season and all that it means only heightens the awareness at the completion of it. The end truly becomes a new beginning when it is seen looking forward and looking back, but if you miss the journey there, you have nothing to look back on.

I hope you sit for the next 40 days.

Before therapists...

What did people do before therapists?

Part of this comes from my own experience, but this question really just has me thinking about community in general. I mean, when did it get that we couldn't share all of ourselves with people around us? I understand that some things are truly big, and I don't think some things should be thrown on top of just one person, because that is not fair, but I feel like it is this idea that keeps so many people hiding things.

When only therapists should hear the big things, or the serious things, it means that people around you aren't aware of what is going on deep inside you, and sometimes, that deepness is actually the essence of who you are or is at least reflective of who you are. Do we think of that? By having to go to the therapist for every BIG thing, we are hiding our essence from those around us. Again, some things are truly deep, and maybe are sensitive, and of course not for public consumption. But what happened to friends that know everything? What happened to being able to be truly authentic with people?

Why is the response to "go find a therapist"? And not, "This is bigger than our friendship/relationship. Is there someone with which you are more comfortable or who knows you better to talk to?" Again, some relationships are legitimately not the right space. You do not go to a professor and talk about relationship problems, and you probably don't go to your child's teacher to talk about feeling depressed. BUT, you might go to your pastor or mentor about being depressed, and a close friend about the relationship problem. Why are some secrets supposedly too dark/much for people? Clearly the person dealing with it is not a therapist, so why is it that only a therapist can help with that?

There are certain situations that I would deem out of my comfort zone. That unless it was with a few of my close friends, I would not be equipped to handle it, but for my close friends, I would do anything and everything I could in whatever situation. It's just a thought.

The therapist is not the answer to the world's problems, people. Relationships are. Get back to true community and openness and watch things change around you. When you can sit together with another person in brokenness, it is one of the most beautiful experiences that exists.

Brokenness is what God wants to heal. In those moments and in that space is where God works. God *is* in the wounds, and the scars, and the tears.

It is the broken body taken at communion, not the whole, perfect, complete body.

Ponder that.

Prayer

So, after a conversation with a friend, I think it is time to post this entry. It has been a long time coming, and I pray (ha) that you can connect with it and, perhaps, change the way you pray.

Prayer is an interesting thing. Prayer requests seem even more interesting. Do you remember being a child and praying for the most mundane things? Your dog, to get a day off of school, for a different color hair… any number of things. One day, if you were in Sunday School and mentioned during prayer request time the people overseas, or kids in Africa, or soldiers in the war, everyone thought you were “so sweet” or “so smart”. It was a good thing that you were thinking outside of yourself…

As you get older, this is kept up. Everyone is always requesting prayer for the big things in the world, and they forget the mundane. Of course, at 30, the mundane is different than it was at 4, but it is never spoken during prayer request time.

Why? Why do we only pray for the big things (friends and family with cancer, soldiers overseas, and dying children in Africa), and never the mundane? Now, don’t get me wrong, I pray everyday for the people around me who are not well, for our men and women in the armed forces, and for all the children around the world who don’t have people to care for them. However, it seems we have forgotten how to pray for the little things. And maybe we do in our own quiet time, but it is not wrong to be among your peers and request prayers for yourself. Isn’t that the point of prayer requests? To ask for prayer and support in what you’re struggling with? When prayers are always requested for those farther removed, aren’t we actually the superficial church? The depth in the church is in becoming honest with those around you. Becoming personal, and going past the point of those ‘distant’ prayers.

Why are we not comfortable with asking for help? If you can’t ask for help in a small group within your church, how can you ask for help from anyone else? It lends itself to people bottling up what is going on in their life. And what good does that do? It just keeps everyone separated in a way that is dividing the world. In the same way we are all removed from each other by technology, the world is becoming more and more superficial. Seems the depth is missing in all aspects of life, including where is should be the basis.

Now the question: How do we change it?

In no way am I saying to stop praying for the BIG things. They should be on the list every day. It is helpful with a white board prayer list to permanently write these constants at the top. The rest can be transient, erasing things as they are resolved and adding new ones as they come up. Constantly keeping up with what is going on in your life will help you realize just how many things there are in your life, and when you share them with others, just how many people care about the ‘little’ things in your life.

I challenge you, the next time you are in a setting taking prayer requests, to ask for something PERSONAL. And it doesn’t have to be that you are sick. Maybe you are stressed. Maybe you are tired. Maybe you are working for a promotion. Share yourself with the people around you. THAT is what church is about.

The internet and jazz...

I've come to decide that the internet isn't really a new invention. In fact, it's something that's been around for years and that people of all generations (except maybe the youngest) know about and have used.

The internet is a vacuum. A vacuum of time and productivity. A vacuum of almost everything intellectual.

On the internet, everyone is allowed to have a voice to do and say everything they want. Often, this voice is unintelligible rambling, and therein lies my point. Freedom of speech is amazing, it truly is. But I wonder when it was that we decided that the majority of people need not speak/write properly. Is it any wonder people are unemployed when the educational system is underfunded and people read m3$$@g3s instead of a completely written out e-mail? When everything is written in txt and other shorthands? Mind you, these things are great in certain places, but the problem is that people are lacking basic foundations before they begin to 'mess with the system.'

Take jazz for instance. It is improvisation, so, technically, anyone should be able to get up there and play. Well, take a step back. Anyone who can produce a sound on an instrument should be able to get up there and play, correct?

No. Not quite.

In fact, jazz musicians are some of the most technically skilled musicians there are. In my first improvisation class (other than the basics of improv I learned in high school), I was presented on the first day with a list of scales. You see, scales are what make the tonal system WORK. Without interval relationships between notes, we would not be able to tell major from minor from dorian or mixolydian. When you put certain interval patterns together, you make a scale.

A major scale goes like this (W=whole step, and H=half step):
WWHWWWH. EVERY major scale follows this pattern. It is these relationships that make that scale identifiable among all the sounds happening. The scales are the FOUNDATION of playing music, but especially jazz.

Most musicians that are classically trained can play the major scales and three forms of minor scales for you at the drop of a hat, and then play arpeggios up and down and around you. But jazz musicians spend HOURS upon HOURS a day perfecting not just majors and minors and the respective arpeggios, but they learn all the modal scales, and then dominant seventh chords, inverted arpeggios, and chordal inversions. Behind every jazz player is an arsenal of theory knowledge. All of this sits in their head until they see the shorthand on the sheet that says Gmaj7 and they play the notes that fit.

You see, they don't just get up there and make things up. They know their foundations before they do anything else.

But what I see more and more as people keep writing and posting and making videos and tweeting is not the convenience of shorthand in a needed situation. I see legitimate ignorance to the fact that there is a world out there that is expecting a certain sense of decorum from those entering the work-force. In some jobs you may not have to have any social interaction, but that is the rarity. And let me tell you, your boss is going to be able to expect for you to write a report or give a statement at some point in your career.

Before people start learning shorthand or playing with txt, they should learn proper English and maybe someday they will actually get a job. But until they get out of the internet frame of mind, they will be stuck.

Our system is backwards. The foundations are what is coming second or third. The foundation is ignored for the ease of a cell phone.

TXT will not pay your bills, but proper English might help you land that job you need.

Just sayin'.

Struggle bus

First things first: I did not come up with this term. Not at all. But tonight, I'm going to use it to explain some things...

I am riding the struggle bus a bit this semester. It's nothing BIG, but it's always those little things that come and get you. And right now, I'm actually struggling with something most people in America are struggling with; in fact, most people in the world are struggling with this same thing.

MONEY.

Supposedly it's taboo to talk about money. But I'm only going to talk about it in a way to connect us all. We all struggle with something, it is just that in a recession, most of us are struggling with it, so why don't we say something about it?

Today, I'm going to say that even though I'm struggling, I'm remembering what I have. There are times that I'm looking around my house thinking, "What can I sell????" Well, guess what? That means I have expendable things in my life, and how lucky am I that that is the case? The difference then is, "What is worth money to sell?" and that's a very different question. But I'm still amazed at how much I have around me. How awesome is that?

Perspective is something that is really important. I've really tried hard since being back to not have excess around me. I don't want to have a full house. I want to have a functional and comfortable house, but I don't need a million things for that to be the case. However, that doesn't help the selling-things idea... but that's okay. I still have a very comfortable life.

Struggling is normal. We all go through struggles. What differs is how we handle it. Someone asked me last night what I do when I'm in a 'funk'. A funk for me can range from being depressed, to being anxious about something... It's just part of my life. But what do I do about it? Well, I learned a long time ago not to keep it inside me, for one. In college I began the practice of sitting in my church's sanctuary and praying or singing or just sitting there. If it was late at night, there was this church nearby my college that had three crosses in their yard, so I would sit there. I still do this. I go to church and I'll sit in the sanctuary, or I'll talk to people. Sometimes, I go for a drive, because just for a little while, I need to be alone and SEE the world around me.

This morning I had an amazing moment on the way to school. My car has problems so whenever I'm driving it, I'm praying that nothing happens during that trip, that it can hold out until I can get the money together to fix it. But on the road this morning, there was an ambulance driving down the road and all the cars pulled over to the side to let it through. This is a law, of course. But really, human decency stuck out to me. When it's important, people get out of the way.

I don't know that I have a point to the rambling tonight, but really I am just doing what I told everyone I would do: be real. Sometimes, I'll write about crazy things, sometimes about biblical things, and tonight, I'm writing about a tough thing. I'm a real person. I struggle. But you know what? God is right beside me.

And God is right beside you, too.

The mountains...

A group of 20 seminary students spent 11 days in the mountains of Appalachia exploring the vanishing traditional culture and religion.

This particular picture was taken at an old, run down Rosenwald school, last used in 1955. Today, the community has received grants to refurbish this building and turn it in to a community center. Today, there are still no windows, there is a fallen piano in the corner, steps are broken, but fresh wood sits below window frames, and roof supports are in place. There is still hope for this aging building because the foundation is strong.

And isn't that the point? A strong foundation means that even though uses may change, and the outside may have a new look, but at the heart of it, it is still the same. How is that for a metaphor for Appalachia? The mountains may have new houses on them (and some may fall), the people may change and the churches may change, but in reality, the mountain is still the mountain. What created the place known as Appalachia is still there. You can blow off the top of the mountain looking for coal or to build roads, but the base of the mountains, the majority of their height, is still there. No-one can take away an entire range of mountains and what they mean to the people except God. And as we learned over the last two weeks, God is at the heart and soul of the mountains.

Countless experiences and many jokes stay with the members of this intentional community. Love grew in our little lodge in the mountains. Experiences with God permeated the air on a day spent in silence. Meaning was found in visits with men and women in their various ministries. Knowledge gleaned from local people and transplants from around the country. Peace discovered in hopeful words. Passion conveyed in stories unbound. Struggles shared in honest conversation.

From one generation to the next, knowledge was passed. The same way knowledge has been passed for generations in the mountain.

Looks like we connected with the traditions of the mountains more than it may have looked like initially. The heart of the mountains is still there. The passion of the people, new and old, has not gone. And God is still at the heart of it.

And awesome and tiring two weeks in the mountains have come to an end. Countless documents still left to be read and papers still to be written, but the friendships, well, they live on.