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.