Advent

Advent is here. And with it, the expectant waiting of the Christ-child's birth.

Mary and Joseph had a lot to do as they awaited his birth: marriage, pending travels, preparing for birth. I picture it as a time of not stopping - a time of constant work.

I picture a lot of things as time of constant work - like us, during Advent - time shopping, church activities, holiday programs, Christmas concerts, tree lightings, traveling, and the list could go on. We are often so busy with everything going on that we forget Advent is around us... the coming is near... and the world is turning in ignorance.

WE are turning in ignorance.

We are busy on our paths, busy with our to-do lists, busy with our Christmas lists, busy with our gatherings, busy with the preparations...

How often did Mary step out of all of the hullabaloo and sit with the fact that she was carrying God's son? How often did she sit and cry over how her life had changed? How often did she wonder over the life growing inside her?

And yet we walk through this season without a second thought of the waiting, the excitement, the anticipation... more than over a gift under the tree, more than get togethers and concerts, but for the eternal excitement that this season brings with it.

More than the trees, more than the deals, more than family...

But everything it brings with it.

Do we feel that kind of excitement?

Do we feel that kind of rush on Christmas morning?

----------------

Do we ever remember to be interrupted?
Do we let our lives be turned upside down in a momentary visit from the angels?
Do we even have room for a visit from God?

Or are we so busy that all the noise we create drowns out everything and everyone else?
Are we so busy that life passes us by as we keep up with the Jones'?
Are we so busy that we don't notice the world is waiting, too?

The world is waiting for us to listen.
The world is waiting for us to be interrupted.
The world is waiting for the Christ-child.

The world is waiting for us to wait.

Wait with me? 

Thanksgiving 2014

It's a post of thanks a day post Thanksgiving...

There is much to be thankful for this last year -
- My brother deployed the day after Thanksgiving last year, and he returned home safe. For that, I am thankful.
- I rang in 2015 with good friends. For that, I am thankful.
- I completed my MDiv and graduated. For that, I am thankful.
- My family came to the hooding, my dad was present for the hooding and commencement. And I got to see them all again in July. For that, I am thankful.
- The by-laws were changed and I was ordained by FBC Kernersville. For that, I am thankful.
- I was able to participate in the ordination council for a very dear friend. For that, I am thankful.
- I received a call to a new place of ministry, and am surrounded by wonderful people and community where I get live into my calling. For that, I am thankful.
- I have "homes" all over the world and can recall memories of Thanksgivings that are all meaningful in their own ways, and I am blessed to create more memories of Thanksgiving. For that, I am thankful.
- As much as I don't like to listen to doctors, I have medical care, insurance, and treatment available to me. For that, I am thankful.
- More than just homes and places that are important to me - I have the friends and family all over the world that make up those homes - I love them even though they pull my heart in many directions. For that, I am thankful. 

And most of all, I am thankful for a Theology of Abundance:
Love doesn't run out.
Grace doesn't run out.
And for that, I am supremely thankful.

Grace for the Contemplative Parent

"Grace for the Contemplative Parent: A Practical Guide for Mothers Practicing the Presence of God" by Lily Crowder.

I was really excited about this book. In my work I was hoping to find a way to include this while working with parents - especially the parents of YOUTH who are often the parents who feel they need the most grace (after all, those are trying years for anybody). There are nuggets of gold in this book: remembering the present and that sometimes, the present season is difficult, finding contentment in the present moment, noticing God everywhere, etc...

But there are some things that are problematic to me, personally, theologically. The book is rooted in a rather conservative mindset, believer that God gave her her husband, that optimism is imperative and that negativity has no place - Yes the Gospel is optimistic, but then you are casting aside those who may not have been born optimists, Lily. I'm glad God gave you a husband, but what about those who have never married, did God not want to give them a husband?

Ultimately, there are pieces of this book I could share, but I can't honestly see this book working in my context in the way I had hoped. Perhaps someone could come along and bring this book to a more moderate stand-point without such a leaning that it was an exclusive kind of book. Mothers need grace, fathers need grace, and children need grace, and while there is some grace in this book, there are also some spaces that could use more grace.

$ .02

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255.

Adoration by Martha Kilpatrick

If you ignore that in Kilpatrick's interpretation of Mary she sets Martha as in the wrong and Mary knowing the "one way", you can read a lot of good in this book. Certainly, you can read Mary as the one who chose Jesus, but it discounts much of the actual doing that is required in ministry, as well. On that point alone, I was jaded as I read the book because that is where she started.

Adoration: Mary of Bethany - The Untold Story by Martha Kilpatrick is written in a jarring speech pattern, perhaps on purpose (I use it sometimes, too), but it is used the entire way through that I think I am missing the point in trying to follow, and I have a hard time understanding the purpose of the format.

It is, of course, one reading of the Mary and Martha story - and there are valid points, but I have a hard time jumping to agreement with the whole book because Martha is almost villainized. Jesus reminds Martha not to be distracted, but Kilpatrick takes the metaphor and performs eisegesis to it, rather than exegesis - it is a story that has a lot of space to fill, but I think she fills too much.

This book is probably good if you are just looking for something out of the box, or if you're willing to sift through and find the kernels of insight that can stand on their own - or even if you're willing to and looking to find someone else to fill in some gaps for you. However, I don't see myself going back to this book over and over again. It is probably one that will sit on the shelf for a while.

But that is only one person's opinion.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255.

Made in the USA

This is not what you think. Rather than the proud, flag-waving "MADE IN THE USA" screamed from rooftops, this is Made in the USA: The Sex Trafficking of America's Children by Alisa Jordheim of the Justice Society. This is a book that reminds us over and over again that, like so many things, sex trafficking isn't just "over there" in the developing world, but exists in the city, suburbs, and rural areas of the USA, as well. It is not something we can brush off and ignore as our children are bought and sold.

Jordheim does a great job of bringing the picture together - what it is, how it happens, and what the effects are on those pulled (or sold in). Sex-trafficking is a large and varied issue and girls AND boys are at risk. However, Jordheim doesn't just educate us, but also presents ways to help including groups that have been starting, warning signs and when to report to the NHTRC (National Human Trafficking Resource Center), as well as listing other national and international groups.

This book is not for just anyone to read, but I think everyone should take the time to read and educate themselves on sex-trafficking and the HUGE deal it is EVEN IN AMERICA. Often we look for the problems overseas so we don't have to focus on them here, but Jordheim does a great job of bringing these stories to life and reminding us that these are real, and they are here. Don't look overseas, when you can probably look in your own town.

Educate yourself, and then work to make this book an archive - hopefully, some day, a book like this will not need to be read. That's my hope. But for now - read it.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255.

Christianity is Messy: Walking in Grace

I get frustrated sometimes.

I am part of a group of youth ministers from all over the country that engages in "conversations" about things going on - the best camps, ideas for meetings and games, working through Bible studies together, coming up with graphics and publications, etc...

I generally remain quiet because, unfortunately, our theologies differ SO very much. The moderators of the group are of a certain bent that they will delete things that they don't agree with. I hem and haw about leaving the group, but I find that there is a good amount of collaboration and while I don't use a lot that I hear from them, I find it interesting to learn what other ministries are doing...

But this morning... well, this morning things are going nuts on the forum. This happens every once in a while - someone frames a question in such a way that it gets every one riled up because not everyone agrees that women can't teach men.

(Why this group even allows women to join, I'm not sure, because they clearly don't agree with us in ministry... though I've learned it's assumed, apparently, that the women in the group are youth pastor's wives, but they've now created a group just for YP wives that they're supposed to go join.... Some of us then asked about youth pastor husbands... we haven't been answered....)

So the conversations this morning are about women not teaching men, and there are some guys ARDENTLY arguing that 2 Timothy could not possibly be wrong or situational or written in a particular context. Then there is a group arguing to kick someone out of leadership for an indiscretion they have sought out forgiveness for... but apparently, this indiscretion isn't covered by grace - though consequences have already been dealt and gone through...

And then my mind goes to the questions we have - why does it seem like so many churches are struggling, and why some churches seem to be growing by leaps and bounds... and these churches are churches that teach dangerous theologies!!!! Theologies that exclude and, and theologies that suppress, and theologies that pit God against the world. And I have problems with that... why are churches that are struggling through practicing grace struggling, but churches that seem to have little grace are growing....

Here's my thoughts:

It's easy to have a faith that is black and white, and we live in a world where so much is gray, that one place of black and white is welcome. But then, also, much like the rest of the world, everything is about opposition. Apparently we all have to have an issue to rebuke. We all have to have a stance on everything and we cannot engage in conversation or practice grace because if you don't agree with me, we can't talk and we certainly can't work together.

For churches of theologies that are more towards center (I'm not even going to the liberal theologies, I'm just talking moderate), it is hard - because there is no line to define the church. These are the churches that look back at the Bible and realize it's not easy...

The Bible was written in the midst of struggle - they were trying to figure out their theologies, their beliefs, their understanding of Jesus' life - but as I told someone this morning, at the time, Jesus was an unremarkable man for the first 30 years of his life. 5 people had been visited by angels (Mary/Joseph/Shepherds) and knew, from God, that Jesus was the son of God. But the rest of the world had 30 years to wonder about this kid running around, apprenticing Joseph, sitting in the temple (and if you read the apocrypha, killing a kid for making him mad, and then bringing him back to life)... what kid doesn't say something profound every once in a while? What kid doesn't run around or get left behind sometimes?

And let's be honest - if some random 5 people said the things Mary and Joseph did, we'd probably think they were crazy, trying to start a cult, or just had everything wrong (potentially as emotionally disturbed persons)... People had no idea what was going on.

So we have letters - one way letters - we don't know what prompted them, and we try to reconstruct situations and contexts based on the contents of a letter - but all we have is one side of the conversation. We gather pieces of evidence to hopefully understand...

But they were just as confused then as we are now. We can read Paul's letters as his theology changes, but some people hold on to Paul's words as much as they do the words recorded from Jesus' mouth.

It is easy to read something from the Bible and call it all Gospel, than to really take it to task and realize that the Bible shows us peoples' growth and changes - it shows us the struggles they had, too.

I mean, really, if people read things I wrote years ago, my theology and understanding of God were so different.

And I'm not saying I have all the answers - faith just brings more questions, but that's why it's faith. God doesn't have to answer my questions, but I hope some day, God's mercy puts me out of my misery!!!!! ;-)

I just seem to be realizing that it is so much easy to just condemn people because some words say so, without taking into consideration that (especially the letters) were written by a particular person to a particular audience. Were Paul and Timothy writing and knowing that forever we were going to hold on to their words? NO! They were writing to the church in Corinth, the church in Ephesus... They weren't writing to us almost 2000 years later -

Jesus, however, was more "these are the things you need to remember... LOVE one another and I first loved you," "love your neighbor AS YOURSELF," "For God so LOVED the world...", and "may the one without sin cast the first stone..."

Too often we forget the words of Jesus for the words that come from everywhere else.

Sure, we can glean insight from them - but sometimes that insight is that they struggled, too, and perhaps we can find comfort in them. One and two generations out from Jesus did not have all the answers, and we have to remember that we will never have the answer...

But we are supposed to walk in GRACE. We are supposed to walk in LOVE. And that is not easy. It's not easy at all. It's messy. People who say faith is easy or seem to have all the answers, probably don't.

And let's be honest, the road Jesus walked was not easy either. People had no idea what he was doing and what he was talking about, but we come back to his point over and over again: LOVE. Grace for the outcast. Welcoming arms. Reaching out.

It's so much more comfortable to close people out. To walk into the church on Sunday and close the doors.

That's not what Jesus did. Jesus overturned the tables in the temple. Jesus preached on the mountain side. Jesus sat down and said "Let the children come to me." Jesus fed people even when it seemed there wasn't enough.

So why are we spending our time arguing about women in ministry, and trying to convince people to not forgive someone... why are we wasting time and resources on discussing the inappropriateness of playing games at youth group (or certain games), or the fact that some movies/books/shows don't glorify God (let's be honest, God probably laughs at EVERYTHING that's on tv, not one show or movie more than others)...

Let's walk the messy road - the road of loving our neighbor - the road of reaching out - the road of grace...

Authenticity and the Evolution of Awesome

Every time I sit to write an entry on my blog, I revise my thoughts.

Why? 

Because I wonder who will read what I write. I wonder who will be offended by what I'm thinking. I wonder what parts of my story may make people see me differently. I wonder if people will see the people in my life differently. I wonder if people will try to figure out which happening in my life inspired an entry or certain ponderings.


And when you're an introvert like me, those things are scary.

Writing in a blog like this is public. It's a spilling out of my soul onto a page that anyone can read, and that I post in an identifiable way. Perhaps if this was more anonymous, it wouldn't be so scary... but really, what's the point of that? There's some cathartic release to anonymity, but that defeats the purpose of living life together, right? That defeats the purpose of all of it.

And yet, I can't seem to write the words I really want to write. And that probably explains my long periods of absence more than anything else. It's not that I become at a loss for words, it's because I'm at a loss for the appropriate words. The not too deep words. The unoffending words.

I envy the people who write uninhibited. I envy the people who can live their life never wondering what others think. I envy the people who can post whatever they want on facebook without second-guessing every phrase and sentence...

And then I have days that I wonder "how in the world, in the head of myself - that is such an introvert and always second-guessing myself - did I get this reputation for being awesome?"

Because, let's face it, it started as a joke. More of a response to the "how are you" down the hallway that no-one really wants a response to, so I started saying "I'm awesome, how are you?" At least that would cause people to stop and turn around for a second... It was also my response on days when I was feeling less than awesome because it would help me lift myself up.

Awesome is one of those words that is a wall word. It's a brick in my protection. Now, yes, as people remind me, I have done A LOT in my life, and a LOT of it is awesome. I mean, I'm not yet 30, and I've lived overseas twice, I've met awesome people, played awesome concerts, read great books, attempted writing a book (well, many), been published (don't ask, seriously), learned a lot and tried to use it for good, and had a grand time with people literally all over the world... my life has been awesome...

but that's not what I think about on a daily basis. To me, I haven't done enough, not yet. To me there is more to do. To me I need to finish a book and publish it. To me I need to discover myself more. To me - well... I'm my own worst critic (As I'm reminding myself over and over the last few days), and I don't necessarily think I've reached the pinnacle of awesome (yet?).

But I would like to be awesome some day - whatever that means.

And yet, somehow, my life has devolved (evolved?) into this ball of awesome. My ordination even had the word awesome thrown around a couple times. So, I go with it, and made an instagram with my new moniker: RevAwesome (a name stemming from my ordination), and a twitter to a similar effect....

And yet I question my awesomeness. I'm not nearly as egotistical as calling myself awesome implies. In fact, it's a striving that I take part in every day...

Much like following Christ, it's not a goal, but a process...

and I guess that's awesome, too.

There's my authenticity and awesome for the day.

fin.

Word-stoppage and new languages

I've recently found myself at a loss for words. That's not usual for me (it probably doesn't seem that way to you, as my blog has regularly had periods of absence, but I promise words are normally flowing somewhere). Perhaps it is because I'm living in my head so much right now adjusting to a new normal - and that could very well be the case. I'm sort of just starting to find myself in a new place - not that I lost myself, but I'm starting to meld and merge and communicate.

I'm excited to find my voice in a new place... it reminds me of learning a new language (which reminds me - I need to practice more - and perhaps learn a new one)... where for a while you are just observing, hearing new sounds, but unable to voice anything that makes sense to those around you yet still survive and complete the most basic of tasks. Learning Tamil took me a long time. While some people jumped right in and were making fools of themselves quite quickly, I sit back and listen more because I want to understand what's going on before I speak. I learned a couple words my first year, but it was my second and third years that I finally started communicating in Tamil. By the time I moved, I could get in a taxi and have a complete conversation in Tamil. I felt accomplished.

I'm trying to remember that as I learn a new "language" right now.

I was given advice before I moved (in 2008) - that it takes years before a place becomes "yours". And today I was thinking about people I know to whom I can say "I have your child!" jump in the car and we'll meet them somewhere later... Well - reminder to myself: that took years, too. You don't jump right in and have it all figured out and know everyone, and that is normal.

I'm trying to give myself grace, because I *DO* expect a lot from myself.

But for now, my goal this weekend is to get back on the bandwagon of book reviews. I've received a few books in the last week that I've been waiting a while for, and I'm really excited about some of them (and, first impressions, a little disappointed by others already). Be on the look-out for these reviews and for some education possibly. Once I get caught up on reviews, I'm going to set a schedule and be more intentional about writing and reflecting.

Coming up:
Book reviews!!!
The Mountains and the Valleys - Faith's Highs and Lows
The Death of Ordination - and the Life Everlasting

Time, time, time...

I am not good with time, on multiple levels.

In general, I'm very good at being very busy - with filling up my time.
More specifically - I don't know what to do with time when it's not filled up.

So let's step back for a second...

My first semester of grad school I took classes and did work/study for about 10 hours a week. Second semester I began working another part time job on top of it. By second year I was continuing both of those and doing an internship that was around 20 hours a week. By the time I graduated, I was working full time, working part time (NOT work/study after a while), going to school full time, and still, kind of, an intern.

My schedule was 8-8 Monday - Thursday, 8-3 on Friday, and varied on Sunday. My weekends were spent trying to be social, fit people in, study groups, and just do my homework for the coming week because there was very little time to do it on the actual week days.

Then, graduation came... and around that time, my part time job ended for the summer... Now I was only working ONE job. When this happened in the December prior, I picked up guitar because I was just plumb bored. I also read a number of books. So, the end of May comes, graduation festivities fade away.... and I am only working full time and still a "sort of" intern, on occasion. But I also knew I was job searching, I had trips I wanted to go on, and people to see before they moved away or I did, whichever came first. Also, the dreaded packing. I knew I was moving at some point, my lease was up, and I was going *somewhere* regardless of a new job or not.

So, my summer even, was crazy. It would seem it shouldn't be, but there are a lot of things that happened in those couple months, including being ordained, and then receiving and accepting a call to a new position...

So, I moved mid-August and started soon after. The first couple weeks were spent unpacking, getting the apartment situated, trying to orient myself to the stores, the job, the people... Just trying to find a balance.

Once all of that sort of settled, and it stopped raining, we had things going on - a Saturday became filled with a project, I missed a day off here, worked a couple extra hours there... Decided with this new place I need to be productive and I've got to stop babying my ankle (that I broke right before graduation, thanks very much world), and I joined a gym here. My ankle can't sustain a lot still so that bothers me, but otherwise, it's doing alright. I just have to be careful...

And then I have weeks like this week where I look at my calendar and realize that I will, once again, not have a true day off (by choice and for good reasons, for sure!), and I have evening events the second half of the week.....

But today, as I looked at my calendar, I said, "I'm going to be here a lot this week. Today, I will leave an hour early and head to the gym..."

And I did.

It was good, but my ankle gave me some grief annoying it yesterday, and I came home. I was home by 4:30pm, put in laundry, cooked dinner, ate, and it's not even 7 yet, and I'm done for the night.

Now, granted, my social life hasn't rebounded yet... for this introvert of massive proportions was spoiled by my friends further south into being a safe place to be a social introvert... I don't have that yet here, I'm still sometimes in the "dear in the headlights" phase...

But I'm wondering what to do with "time"... You see, finally, I'm sitting still again. Finally, I'm in place again. Finally, I'm feeling like I'm doing what I should be doing, and like I have a brain. Finally, like there's a purpose or direction for the stuff I'm pulling together.

But I get home, and that part is more, "Okay, I shall watch a movie tonight," or "I'm going to read another chapter in that BBT book..."... Granted, I could always read more, I love to read... and I've spent some quality time creating, which is always fun for me... But there's this social aspect that I'm missing, that even overseas I had. I know it takes time. I'll work on that. And I'm going to enjoy this time, too, because I know there will be weeks (ask me Friday), when I'll think, "I haven't had time to myself in a while..."

And it's all okay. But it's got me thinking about time. It's abundance and it's brevity.

And a God-moment that happened today... that even though someone says "don't overwork," I see as an opportunity to do something else; the chance to reach out in another way. And right now, when overwork is a different concept for me (can I remind you again how freeing a 50 hour week is after so many weeks of almost 70????), I want to enjoy it and explore more things.

So I shall. I'll at least explore it, and if it's something I can't do, I won't do it... but the timing was just right today, and it deserves at least a look...

Onwards now... as it is almost 7... Perhaps I shall clean tonight, too... or not. I'll need something to do tomorrow...

;-)

Also, I've been having a terrible time sleeping - that does not help me with my time management or perception of time... ::sigh:: 3 hours is not enough!

Restless much?

Wondering what words I'm not hearing that are keeping me up and/or waking me up?

But that's another entry, don't you think?

Darkness

So, I'm currently reading a book called "Learning to Walk in the Dark" by one of my favorite preachers/writers: Barbara Brown Taylor. This is not a book review, I did not get this book for free, I bought it of my own volition because I LOVE her, but I *DO* think you should read her stuff... just do it...

She follows the phases of the moon as she explores darkness and it's cultural implications - mostly, how often we villainize darkness. Even spiritually, we say we found the light, or turned from darkness. This most recent chapter, where she explores blindess and life without light at all, and how darkness isn't what we really think it is... it's all got me thinking.

When you are born blind, you have no concept of what blindness is, or what darkness is. You have no way to understand that duality. Trees aren't seen by sight, but by the other senses. She says that seeing is superficial, but that it overpowers so many of our other senses; in darkness, though, we come alive. We see trees by their presence, we sense walls by their force, we identify people by their voice, and we feel the ground beneath us.

So why, so often, is spirituality compared to light? She says it's because the people who wrote our texts were people who could see. That is the duality they can use to describe the events that take place.

What if our biblical texts had been written by someone blind? What if it was not light and darkness, but love and apathy that we turned to and from? What if it was peace and calm that we turned to from hate and separation. What if we experienced more than the superficial "light" and got to the meat of the faith?

It makes me really want to spend time with my group exploring our other senses, and perhaps exploring the margins. I am not thinking to plan times where we more consciously not just serve those on the margins of society, but experience life that way. BBT went to an exhibit called "Dialogue in the Dark" where you experience the world as a blind person... really? How awesome would that be? To spend time actually in darkness trying to buy groceries?

What about spending time at the shelter?

What about being less of one of us and more of them? The early Christians were "them" and around the world, they are still the marginalized, but we rarely have that experience in America. Too often we don't realize that it is still dangerous to be a Christian in most of the world. We forget that we started "on the margins" and continue to live on the margins in a majority of the world. Christian acceptance is not a given, and we are told over and over again to cling to our faith when persecution comes... not if it comes.

What about learning to walk in the dark? What about learning about the presence of God without our superficial senses? What about going deeper?

I'm exploring darkness in different ways these days, trying to, as she puts it, learn to sit in it.... my favorite experiences of darkness were those when I was truly removed from the artificial lights of our world, our attempts to stave off darkness as long as possible... nights in India, on top of my mountain, closer to the stars than ever, seeing constellations from a different perspective and being able to reach out and touch them because the power was still out and there were no lights to interfere with their brilliance. Nights in a bach in Hari Hari New Zealand, with the generator off, a fire burning inside, but the light not permeating the darkness of the rain forest we found ourselves - seeing the southern cross and other foreign constellations that we miss in the northern hemisphere....

Rarely do we get to see the uninterrupted night sky in America. Even when I turn off all the lights in my house, street lights shine in...

And perhaps this is not a good thing. Perhaps we are missing the connection; perhaps we are favoring sight over our other senses... perhaps sight is not was allows to do anything we do, but actually, takes away from the fullness of our actions....

She mentions Opaque restaurants: restaurants where you eat in the dark and by doing so, you notice the food more, you notice the people more... She says perhaps we should have Opaque Church... I'm all for that idea. I want to do that. What is worship when we take away our sight? What is worship when we are using all of our other senses?

Perhaps that will be an experience I try to have soon.

Perhaps darkness is what we are missing in our world and in our church.

Perhaps we are too busy always trying to find the light that we forget the true Light. The Light that is much greater than the bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

Perhaps we have gone too far.

The New Covenant

by Bob Emery

I started this post weeks ago... I think it says a lot about this book that I was not in a hurry to write a review, or even to finish it. It's not that it is a bad book, because it certainly provides the story from a different perspective (the first person, actually), but it was just so hard for me to really get into this perspective. Historically, it presents the story as if it has the same main character throughout, but we know that isn't true, and I know part of my dislike comes from that. We can't take too literally the title of the book of John meaning that John wrote it, or that the letters of John were written by the same John from decades before. If you choose not to be so literal, there is no issue, though. In part III, while being culturally and historically interpreted (the beast as Nero), I hesitate to put those words into the text and write them down as fact, as Emery does.

The best part of the book, to me, is the Appendix at the back, giving a great amount of historical and much more factual information. Maybe I'm too close to DivSchool to do this book justice, but unlike some others I've read, I can't see myself buying the others of the series unless they are significantly better than this one, nor can I see myself recommending them to people looking for a good way to read the story. It would be much better, I think, to just recommend The Message if someone wants an easier read of the story, rather than this.

Perhaps I will give it another shot at a later date. There is no reason I can't like it later, but today, Go buy another book I've mentioned before (Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor is a good one if you're looking right now!!!).

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255.

Home(?) Again

I could write on the topic of home over and over again, because my heart is in pieces all over the US and the world. I have left parts of it with each member of my family, wherever they are (meaning a large concentration of pieces exists in upstate NY), pieces in New Zealand, pieces in India, pieces with people I've met in Australia, Germany, and other countries, and now, pieces of me in NC.

For those whom I haven't told, or haven't heard, I now reside in Virginia, right off the route that takes me both to NY and to NC, and I'm making a new home; a home I have no plans of leaving any time soon. Building community again, and reflecting on what home is...

They gave me cookies for signing my lease!!

There was about a month where I was "homeless". I had a place to sleep, and friends I consider family that offered me a home, but I didn't have "my" space. Work (church) became the place that kept my routine going, my sanity (most of the time) in place, and the place where it was "mine". Then, two days before I was supposed to travel for my trial weekend, the church was broken into, things stolen, door jambs split, and glass all over the floor... This space had just been violated. Already being in a time of transition meant this hit me more than it would have any other time. Suddenly, even church wasn't safe. I was constantly wondering if the doors were locked (something we always struggled with), if, when I showed up for work in the morning there would be someone else in the building with me, or, if somewhere there was another weakness being exploited...

Of course, no-where is ever completely safe from intruders and/or damage. No place is anything but that: a place. Home is more than that. Home is WAY more than that.

Home is the people you care about, the people you love, the people that have molded and shaped you through your interactions, great or small.

I wrote quite a lot as I was preparing to move, much of it private that will never see the light of day (until I publish a book, perhaps!). But still I wrote. And I drew. And I spent a lot of time thinking...

My move was not a bad thing. It is something to be celebrated - finishing seminary, being ordained - the next step is to find a ministry position - and my church was SO supportive of me and my accepting this call. But the move definitely brought up things I hadn't realized before; the main one being:

I have a very big family biologically, but I consider a lot of people part of my family outside that.

There is way more to that than I have time to write tonight, nor do I know for sure if this is the space to write that out in. Suffice it to say, I have many, many friends that I consider family, even if they don't consider me family (the nature of pretty much always not being geographically close to family).

So, here I am, sitting in my new living room, again procrastinating the next stage of settling in (going through all the things that got thrown into boxes because I could "sort them out later"), writing the first blog in a long time. Hoping to make it more regular, but for now, going to watch a movie.

Also, family, come visit me. :-)

I am here

As I approach my ordination council and the service itself, I've been reflecting on the journey. Always, as part of your ordination, you get to tell your story, and talk about your call. Givens. So, last night, I pulled out the Bible that I bought in New Zealand and was so crucial to the next 4 years of my life. You see, when I moved to NZ, I didn't take a Bible with me. I was so far gone that I thought God could never love me again, and there was no reason for God to. Early on, though, a pastor (ironically named Steve) preached a sermon that shook me to my core and caused to me to cry at the altar for a good long time. And not just a little cry, but the really deep, really hard, ugly cry. I had many revelations that night but the largest one just destroyed the wall that was standing between me and God. The next day I bought this little Bible on the way to the station to meet some friends for a trip we were going on that weekend. I was done-for. Over. Out. Life. changed. So that Bible holds MANY stories. Stories of street preaching in Sydney. Stories of me re-discovering the grace of God that I had forgotten in my own heart. Stories of me preaching with no notice in India. Stories of me struggling. Stories of me reaching out time after time. Stories of people reaching out to me…

The Bible has been on the shelf throughout DivSchool. Put down so I could read the Oxford Annotated NRSV for school, and compare the original Greek and Hebrew languages to different translations to find the meaning in and between the words. Put down so I could learn the technicalities of faith…

Until last night when I picked it up, thinking about my journey to ordination and the people that have meant so much to me.

That's the beauty of ordination: It's a landmark - one of those times that culminates and begins all at once. It is a journey to that moment and it is a journey after that moment. It is liminal. Suspended time. A time when, whether physically present or not, people gather to affirm the call God has placed on a life.

I am blessed to sit and think about those who have meant so much to my journey, to invite them to participate. To know that those who can't be here are here in spirit. I am blessed because there are so many on this journey that I will never see again, and that's okay because it does not change anything.

My Bible is held together with a rubber band because there is just too much stuff in it, and that's okay. Each thing in there holds special meaning to me: a fossilized leaf from the rain forest in Hari Hari, New Zealand, photo strips of Hawke's Bay, notes from dear friends, a band-aid, Tibbs' business card, the cards from the funerals of people important to me, quotes that mean a lot to me…. It's written in, it's used, and it's well-loved.

So much of my journey is wrapped up in that little Bible that I put on a shelf. And when I pick it up, I am overwhelmed by the journey. Joyful to be affirmed by everything that book symbolizes. Joyful to be loved and affirmed by the people around me. Joyful for the family that has been by me through thick and thin. Joyful for friends from birth, to new friends, to friends I will only spend time with on the internet. Joyful for the men and women who stepped up to fill significant roles in my life. Joyful for the kids who keep my heart young. Joyful for animals that have loved me and taught me. Joyful for those who have stretched me. Joyful for those who have held me. Joyful for those who make me laugh. Joyful for those who challenge. Joyful for those who teach. Joyful for those who critique. Joyful for those who have gone before me to pave the way. Joyful for those that don't even know how much they meant to me. 

So much joy in this time that I can't even explain. And it's ironic that tonight I was doing some more cleaning and found letters I wrote 7 years ago to people that have meant a lot to me. I could write so many more today. I could write so many words and it still would not be enough. 

So this is for you. This entry is for you. Because my journey is nothing without you. Each and every one of you have left a mark on me and I hope you know how closely I hold you in my heart. And even if we don't talk so much anymore, and even if you can't be here for my ordination, you are here, because I am here. 

Theology from Exile: Luke & Matthew

This will be a joint review, as both are part of a series, and each review would be quite similar.

The first thing that sticks out to me is the layout of the books - it follows the lectionary (revised common lectionary, found here), and goes through each season and Sunday including the relationships of all the lectionary texts for that day (Epistles, Old Testament). There are 4 questions that frame the readings and interpretations of these texts:
1) What is the nature of God? Violent or non-violent?
2) What is the nature of Jesus's message? Inclusive or exclusive?
3) What is faith? Literal belief, or trust in God's realm of distributive justice- compassion?
4) What is deliverance? Salvation from hell or liberation from injustice?

There are so many lenses through which I can read these commentaries and answer these questions that I think it merits a positive review on my part. Any book that can immediately capture me with its thesis and has me thinking (especially this close to graduation) deserves at least that.

I especially enjoy the commentary on the Magnificat provided in Luke - any good commentary brings points together that you hadn't considered before and this commentary does just that, AND pulls in other scholar/author opinions, research, and perspectives. Sea Raven does a good job of pulling resources together to expand understanding, and that is something I enjoy.

Sea Raven's conversational and relaxed style makes this commentary wonderful to read, as seen by the chapter in Matthew called "Baptism-Schmaptism," but should not be judged by that because the insights are amazing. This is a book I could hand to a congregation member and they could easily understand the conversation taking place without the "headiness" of theology pouring through their brain confusing them.

All in all - I got the Year of Luke as an e-book format, and it will definitely be purchased and put on my shelf - that's high praise from me. I enjoy solid voices and different perspectives and this will join my collection.

You can buy the books here.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255.

"Let it Go" on the Cross

The blessing of divinity school is that you can think of just about anything theologically…

And the curse of divinity school is that you can think of just about anything theologically… 

So, I haven’t watched Frozen, but I keep hearing the song “Let it Go” – and I read a blog about it that paints the song as an egotistical, self-involved, terrible song. Actually, I've read a couple of them, but those were not my thoughts the first time I heard it. I heard strength and empowerment... And after being invited to do a devotion for a meeting I decided to really get down to what else can be seen in "Let it Go." So, now I present "Let it Go" on the Cross:

The snow glows white on the mountain tonight
Not a footprint to be seen.
A kingdom of isolation,
and it looks like I'm the Queen
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn't keep it in;
Heaven knows I've tried

I wonder if Jesus thought any of this in the garden. Alone, praying, knowing what is to come. He always told his disciples to not tell anyone who he was, that his identity was and is a realization we have to come to ourselves through our own experience… and here he sits in the garden…  saying:

Don't let them in,
don't let them see
Be the good one you always have to be
Conceal, don't feel,
don't let them know
Well now they know

Struggling, always struggling. When the guards appear on the mountain and Jesus is sitting there knowing the time has come; this cup cannot be passed…

Let it go, let it go
Can't hold it back anymore

Not Jesus’ will, but God’s be done. The time has come…

Let it go, let it go
Turn away and slam the door
I don't care
what they're going to say
Let the storm rage on.
The cold never bothered me anyway

Ridiculed and sent to court – it didn’t matter what people were going to say because it was already in motion. The cross was imminent...

It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all

With his will completely turned over to God, it didn’t matter what anything else was. It didn’t matter what anyone else said. Some distance from everything – in solidarity with God – no longer asking for the cup to be passed… 

It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me,
I'm free!

“It is finished.”

Let it go, let it go
I am one with the wind and sky
Let it go, let it go
You'll never see me cry
Here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let the storm rage on

Truly one with God now – leaving the earthly world behind – the storms still raging on the earth, the ever-going struggle between belief and unbelief – Jesus, now one with the wind and sky, all of creation… 

My power flurries through the air into the ground
My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around
And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast
I'm never going back, the past is in the past

One with God – Coming back to earth to breathe the spirit on the disciples – breathing grace on the world, because the past is the past and we’re never going back… 

Let it go, let it go
And I'll rise like the break of dawn
Let it go, let it go
That perfect one is gone
Here I stand
In the light of day
Let the storm rage on

The storm rages on, each and every day in the aftermath… but we rise in grace because the image of perfection is gone, in the light of day we stand - mistakes, scars and all, and now we can let it all go – give it to God. The storm will rage on… but… 

The cold never bothered me anyway!

Carrying a Prayer

The winds are blowing, carrying a prayer,
Come land on me, fresh clean air.
The times, they are changing,
The river keeps on raging.
Flow river flow.
Blow wind blow.


I wrote this last month, and I couldn't right now tell you what was going on at that moment, other than I felt the ground shifting beneath my feet as the world turned. There was something different that day in everything around me. Perhaps it is the uncertainty of life that got me, or the recognition that things are always changing, or, really, my sudden acceptance and willingness to face the changes head on. 

The moment where you remember that change isn't a bad thing and that we never stop changing, so why fear it when it is more obvious? 

Flow river flow. 
Blow wind blow. 

Blow me where I should be, flow to a new destination, carve pathways where there were none, and soar through the trees. Do not be content and stagnant, rotting in stale air. Breathe the breath of nature on the breeze, and feel the life of water in the stream. Embrace the sound and life present in both of these things. 

We don't see the current wearing away at the rock; we don't watch the wind move in the clear sky. 

But we can see the path, and we can see the remnants. 

The river is not the same from one moment to the next, always rounding objects and obstructions, and the wind blows through through the sky and all we see is the remnants of its power. 


I can't stop thinking about these few lines as life continues to change. 

Praise for the fortune had, and the fortune yet to come. 
Mourn with those mourn, and relish the experience as the lessons learned. 
Laugh and share lessons learned.

Feel the water and jump into its power, surrendering to the flow. 
Leap from the top and fly on air. 

Carrying a prayer. 

Teachers...

I just read this awesome post called "What Students Remember Most About Teachers, " and it has me thinking of some truly spectacular teachers in my past. I've been blessed with some amazing ones, and some amazing staff members who weren't teachers, but held other positions that meant a lot to me. I dream sometimes of visiting them where they are now and telling them, "Hey, I turned out alright, and so much of it was thanks to you..." but I can't find many of them. Others, I'm just not sure they'd remember me. But in the spirit of this article, I'm going to remember them publicly here...

Mrs. S - You were the first to notice something was wrong, and you stuck by my side through it all. You encouraged me (and the entire class) to write even when we didn't have something strictly on topic, and we ended up writing a book about the adventures of our new friend Pencil. I was scared through most of that year, but you encouraged my love of reading and even today I can't part with "Charlie's Marvelous Medicine" thanks to the note you left inside it. Your awareness also introduced me to...

Mrs. E! Leader of the Banana Splits. You were probably doing some high-falutin' psychologizing on us, but really, you gave us a home, a space that was safe and open. Even after I moved away, you wrote me letters just to see how things were going. I think you sensed that there was more going on, and I wish I could tell you today that even though there was, I made it. I'd like to think that someday I'll make the same difference. It's always meant so much to me that you were so present in my life. It really was a great thing... I think you're still doing it, and every time I come home to visit, I think of coming to see you... but alas, I think you won't remember me...

Ms. D - You heard so much, and there were so many tears shed in your room. Like both people above, you were present and accepting and created space. You were funny, and *you* and wonderful. I was terrified most of that year, and somehow you helped relieve some of that. Nothing you said or did could change the situation, but just having that space made all the difference. It still makes all the difference.

Mr. G - There are so many things I could say about you... There's really know way to express everything you and Mrs. Z did for me. I'm not sure, even now, that I can really put it into words. Opening your office to me, seeing through the obligatory "I'm good, you?", pushing me to be better than I was, and laughing alongside us all as we had a blast in class... My true safe-haven that I wish wouldn't have shattered so soon. Time was of the essence, and you and Mrs. Z were always there. I can never thank either of you enough.

There have been numerous others who have taught, inspired, pushed, and accepted me throughout the years, and I wish I could really explain why these teachers stand out in my mind. Part of it is too painful for me personally, part of it is that I wish there was a way to say it to their face, and there is actually a part of me that is sad they had to play the roles they did in my life. Regardless of that, I am thankful for them, and that they were who they were at those very moments because it made all the difference in my life.

Teachers are invaluable - and I don't understand why our society tries to devalue them so much.

Tonight, I remember these teachers and they mean so much that I have tears in my eyes: and if you know me, you know I don't cry easily. They made a difference that continues to impact me today.

Do you have a teacher you wish you could thank? What would you thank them for?

Life in the Bread and Cup

We took communion this morning at church. The bread and cup of Life. A centuries old tradition of the church, and one that my current church takes part in at least quarterly.

Every time I take communion, especially when you hold the little cup (as opposed to intinction), I remember my grandmother. It was she who taught me how to hold the bread, and how to hold the cup. The cup, especially, is held in such a way that it is nearly impossible to spill it, and if you did, your other hand would catch it. I've always held my cup this way. She also taught me that once you hold the bread and then the cup, you are to think about what it means in your life at that moment - reflect on the life that was given, and all the things that have occurred for which you are forgiven, and the grace represented in the cup.

There was a time in my life where I wouldn't take the bread and cup when it was passed to me. A time when I didn't feel worthy of it, and couldn't accept that grace was bigger than anything that had happened in my life up to that point. That I was already forgiven for those things. It was too much for me to comprehend, and it is that memory that moves me every time I've taken communion since. Communion isn't just another thing I do, but it is heavy on my heart because I remember how much it hurt to look at the (symbolic) blood shed for me and this life I'm living. It is deeply moving to me to take communion.

Today, it is freeing. I learned how much that grace means and how deeply it is felt. It is what allows me to live my life each and every day. Without grace, I am nothing at all. My life without it was quickly ending; with grace, I can keep on waking, keep on walking, keep on working. Working to help others feel the enormity of grace.

There truly is Life in communion, and I hope it never loses its meaning in my life.

Stay tuned for the revealing of my word for 2014.

Happy New Year, everyone. Make it the best year yet, and may you feel the life that comes with grace each and every day.