Jesus Wept

          Merry Christmas a day late. I continue to celebrate today as I spend time with my family, again in a hospital room. My grandpa (AKA GP) has received a miracle during this holiday season. He may not feel that way as he lays very still recovering from a procedure that he had this morning. He has a terrible wound on the back of his heel that has been being treated for months. Finally my mom and her sisters took him to a new doctor because it wasn't healing. That doctor sent him to another doctor who sent him to Dr. Mustapha, a vascular surgeon. He explained after only looking at this wound that my grandpa had no circulation from his hip down and that he had two options: lose his leg or have surgery. He is an amazing doctor who has taken the time (staying late even on a Friday night with his team) to open up the veins and blood vessels in his leg. As of this afternoon (procedure #2) he has 100% blood flow to the infected area in his heel which will finally allow it to heal! This is a miracle and we are all grateful for a doctor who saved my grandpa's leg (and probably life). 

       Have you already moved on? This morning as I drove I heard folks talking about the New Year and resolutions for 2013. I'm not ready to let go of Christmas that fast. Despite amazing worship celebrations each week as we lit another candle on the Advent wreath at church there has been so much going on that I didn't even put up one decoration at my house. But Each Sunday I found an opportunity to be grounded in the hope,peace, love, and joy of the promised Christ. It is in these moments spending time with youth and children, singing Christmas carols, wrapping packages for folks at the mall, praying and recognizing the amazing power of "God with us" that my heart has been prepared for the birth of Christ. 

     Following the stirring movement of God in worship on Christmas Eve And the official "ringing" in of Christmas with the church bell at midnight I found myself in that strange space of returning to my home to gather up packages that needed wrapping for the next day's family gatherings. As I have grown into my role as pastor and found more confidence in my call, I recognize God's presence in the ability to finish well. Seasons like Advent and Lent can really be transformation in my life and the lives of those I serve, though once they are "over" and I find myself in a house all alone my emotions can really get the best of me. I went to some friends' house to stay that night because it's important to wake up with people around on Christmas Day! 

         These tears that overcame me seemed to show back up as I prepared to drive to see my family on Christmas morning. I spent some Sacred moments with God as I drove, listening to choirs sing on the radio. I found myself reflecting on the wonderful Christmases of my childhood when Santa brought dolls and scooters. The days when my family all gathered in the same household joined by grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins. I have such fond memories of playing games, eating too much, and excitement over giving and receiving presents. I wept as I thought of the past and of the future, wondering if this is the last Christmas with my grandparents. I thought about the many people who have made Christmas so special: the grandfathers and mothers from my home church, the youth and children that have been so special to my life, the many wonderful people of Traverse Bay and Lake Ann UMC's. I am so blessed and truly humbled by God's work in my life. I don't deserve all that God has done and continues to do. It is too big to grasp. It made me weep as again I considered the birth of Jesus and how this Holy Child has changed my life. I am grateful for the loving people that helped me know Jesus, from the Sunday school teachers, pastors, my college chaplain, colleagues and friends. Those who have loved me unconditionally and challenged me to be the best I can be. I pray that everyone has people like this in their lives at least for a time.
        Jesus wept too. He wept with Mary and Martha as they grieved the loss of their brother. They wept together though they knew that The glory of God could overcome their darkness. This is the promise of Christ, the light that overcomes the darkness of our time. Our nation has wept over the unnecessary loss of lives. We weep over the children who have died, over military men and women who are killed while they attempt to stop evil, over the tragedy of natural disasters. We weep when those we love die, when burdens overwhelm us. We weep when words no longer exist to explain the way we feel. In our weeping we long for the glory of God to be revealed again and again. We long for the Prince of Peace to come and change the way things are. We want the Messiah to return and redeem this work in which we live. If we get it, really get it, we weep with joy at the promise of the Christ in our midst. 

      So just for a little while I want to hold Jesus in my arms. Like my beautiful niece who squeals with excitement I want to keep Jesus close to my heart as I breathe Him in. I want to let Him be a child full of hope that the world will embrace Him. And I want to be there when Redemption comes to see the fullness of the promise of Christ. 

 I am grateful that this Christmas I wept, as again I give thanks for God's immeasurable blessings.

The Life-Light

I have to catch up a little today, but it appears I will have plenty of time. I am sitting at the Holland Hospital waiting as my dad has surgery. I find it interesting that while I do this kind of thing all the time as a pastor, it is much different to be here as the daughter. My family has been really interesting lately, and because I live about three hours away I am rarely in the thick of the goings-on. This has its benefits sometimes, but lately I have wished I could be a little bit closer. I realize that my God-given gifts do not include anything having to do with nursing, cleaning, cooking, or any other role that deals with human-bodily-functions. This leaves me a little nervous about the upcoming days with my Dad. It sounds like I am going to be helping with care of an incision and making sure my Dad doesn't starve. Don't worry, I will call for help without hesitation! He WILL survive. Actually it goes much deeper than my abilities. My Dad and I have not always had the best relationship. He has his own struggles with PTSD and alcohol. I have come to understand him so much better as I have grown up and read about his time as a Green Beret in Vietnam. I am proud of him now, though I can easily switch back to that little girl who was pretty angry with her Dad. I know that he has done the best he could and he certainly has always provided for us. So now I get to serve him as he heals, this may be an interesting few days. I am already missing my "family" in Lake Ann. Exciting things are happening in our community these days. I don't want to miss the wonderful celebration on Thursday as families come to receive gifts that have been donated for their children. It's a blessing to be able to give someone a box filled with enough food for a real Christmas feast! These are selfish things, I suppose, though I truly am overflowing with "healthy" pride about the things happening at LAUMC. The best part is that it really doesn't have anything much to do with me. It's all about God giving people passion and linking those passions and gifts with opportunities to serve. Jan, the woman who oversees the food pantry does such an amazing job. She is not only organized, but she's been able to empower some of the other people in the church to connect with organizations that provide food. She knows each family and treats anyone who enters like they are blessing her day. It's awesome. I found myself tearing up many times on Sunday as I recognized this great movement of the Spirit. I have read so many of my friend's reflections about the shooting in Connecticut and it seems they too have felt God's movement in the aftermath of this tragedy. Thinking about families greiving the loss of their young children leaves me with no words. Watching children this same age slowly walk down the aisle riding cardboard camels did the same. Hearing the children sing "Happy Birthday Jesus" and recognizing that they truly trust in the light of Christ overcoming the darkness of the world, makes me weep. Seeing the leadership of our children's programming on fire for involving children in ministry is so awesome...again it's God that is lining up gifts with service. That afternoon we met at our Community Center to watch "The Nativity Story." It's one of my favorite Christmas traditions. This year it really got to me. It's not just a cute story about donkeys and angels. It's a story of peace overcoming the violence of a jealous, raging, King Herod. The movie shows his anger at the threat of the Messiah and his desire to do whatever it took to remain in power. Again I cried as I thought about the fear and loss of the people whose sons were murdered to fulfill Herod's decree. Little boys taken because of man's fearing ego. An entire generation of men wiped out on one very dark night. Thoughts of those little faces from Sandy Hook cross my mind as I realize again and again that we have not really changed. No matter what gun laws are passsed evil will still be alive in the world. People want to ask God "why?" And it is as simply as reading Genesis to understand the very beginnings of darkness. Yet, into this darkness is born a Savior, the very Word of God, or as Eugene Peterson puts it, the "Life-Light" of the world. (John 1) Into the darkness comes life and light...neither can be extinguished because Christ is more powerful than evil. That same "Life-Light" is still at work, in the hearts and minds of all who believe. It gives me reassurance that I don't have to have the right words or the best explanation for things like tragic school-shootings. It gives me a peace that transcends my ability to reason or use logic to make sense of the world. But if you look around long enough you can't help but see that God is still in charge, and there IS light in the darkness. I can't wait until Christmas Eve when we light all those little candles and we hold them all up and sing "Christ the Savior is Born." Maybe this Christmas really will be different as we ponder the power of the Light and the promise of Life both here and in eternity. And for now, I pray that God will allow me to continue feeling humbled by His prescence and in awe of the Spirit's power and movement.

My Spirit Groans.

I is 1:58 am on Saturday and I'm sitting in a pew, watching Home Alone and listening to the whispers of youth who just want to stay up a little longer. I'm looking at an empty stable that on Sunday will be filled with the laughter and voices of young children as they show us the Chistmas Story and we celebrate them and the presence of Christ. We've played games tonight: Roman Soldiers is the favorite. We have laughed and eaten lots, enjoyed one another's company. White Elephant gifts always bring out the competition in us, until we realize we are fighting over someone else's junk. My mind is filled with thoughts tonight as I live in the juxtaposition of crazy teens and the realization that so many families in Connecticut are missing a child at home tonight. Why would someone take the lives of kindergardeners? What would cause someone to want to murder their own mother? It doesn't make logical sense to us because it is not logical. There are no words to express to God the depth of our laments. It is not fair that life was cut short, yet here I am surrounded by life to the extreme. Why there? What happened in that young man's spirit that took him to the place where his life ended after senselessly murdering so many? I wonder about our healthcare system. I wonder how people who are mentally ill find the correct treatment. Hospitals keep folks for three days when they have episodes with mental illness, then they are referred to their local mental health folks. There are so many people in these systems that the counselors and psychiatrists cannot keep up. Drugs are handed out with little monitoring. State hospitals are in short supply. When many of these hospitals closed people became homeless and have learned to live outdoors. They don't fit the mold, they cannot hold jobs, they are often cycled in and out of jail. Mental illness is not an excuse to kill people, don't get me wrong. Nothing makes less sense than someone opening up fire in an elementary school. The world is getting more and more frightening which makes people less and less interested in trusting anyone or anything. In the midst of the anger and fear comes that Divine command, "Do not be afraid." in the midst of the waiting of advent, of the anticipation of family gatherings, presents, food, and faith we are called to transcend our humanity and reconnect with the Divine Love if God. Paul talks in Romans about the groans of our hearts. Even when we don't know what to pray God hears the groans of our Spirit. These groans communicate on our behalf, with the Master Creator. God is the one who those children saw first today as they began life-eternal. The loving embrace of Christ, the warmth of the Spirit...I imagine This was a moment when Jesus too wept with us. Folks, we have to take care if each other. We have to look out for one another. As Christians we must transcend the fear of our culture and hold fast to hope, joy, love, and peace. We must pray fervently and then some more, boldly trusting that God hears our prayer. May those affected by this horrible act of violence feel the very Presence of God in their midst. May they find the support they need to make it through the darkness of grief, pain, anger, and loss. And may we celebrate the unique young people in our lives by reminding them how much they are loved and valued.

Three Pointers & Peace

I love the game of basketball.  I used to be pretty good at it, but haven't been able to play competitively in a while.  Aside from the fact that I really need to get back into a shape that's not round, I generally find myself in the gym (our church Community Center) with people much smaller (and more breakable) than me.  

Playing basketball really helped me become a person I respected.  The journey started way back in middle school when we played on Saturday mornings.  I wasn't very good at it until I finally grew and got a little more coordinated.  I really think that I fouled-out of every game but two my freshman year.  (I think I was trying to be a blocker...but really my big feet and I just hadn't found common ground.).  I only played one season in college, and I wasn't very good, but that year taught me about the power of perseverance and accomplishing goals that seem impossible.  I really miss playing competitively, but the basketball court has become something different to me since I became the pastor in Lake Ann.  

When I arrived in LA (yes, that's what we call it), we had this building that seemed way to big for us, way too expensive for us, and under-utilized.  Now the same building hosts many activities, worship services, wedding receptions, and sports teams each week.  The transition has been a clear goal of the people here:  to be more engaged with our community.  While this alone is exciting (and gives great honor to our great God) what I have learned the most about God's desire for this church happens on Wednesday evenings.  

Each Wednesday following fellowship time and supper at our Village Church a group of us head down to the gym for some basketball. This is where God teaches me lessons about the Body of Christ each week.  Let me tell you about the group that played basketball tonight:  

*Three teenage boys who are fast runners, high jumpers, and good friends.  

*One 20-something couple and two 18 year-olds with special needs

*One 7th grader, one 6th grader, one 2nd grader, and a 1st grader.

* One young 27 year-old guy who helps to keep things running smoothly

*One 32 year-old pastor who is too competitive.

Keep in mind that this is only the group that met tonight, we often have many  more people that offer even more diversity.  The most amazing things happen while we play.  While the three young guys love to run circles around us, steal the ball as fast as they can, and make some amazing shots...they also stop us in our tracks and make sure that the 1st grader gets to shoot it.  Anyone who might have more challenges gets at least three attempts to make the shot.  And trust me, when it goes in, there is major cheering and affirmation.  

The special needs population in my congregation is really amazing.  God has shown me so much as I have been more engaged with young people with autism, mental retardation, and learning disabilities.  I have been challenged to listen and learn from each of them as they show me what love without strings attached really looks like, or just how wonderful it can be to hear someone really laugh.  And I've learned just as much from people like these gentleman that play basketball:  It's about giving people opportunities to achieve, to succeed, and to feel encouraged and supported though they may do things differently.  

A couple of those goofy - but amazing youth from LAUMC (The two on the left)

As I arrived at the gym tonight I thought "how are we going to do this."  I knew that the guys wanted to really play and I feared that they would be "put-out" by those who were unable.  I knew the youngest kids wanted to feel included, and frankly, it's easy to just ignore them when you're trying to win.  And I knew that somehow we would all end up playing an interesting game of full-court basketball.  And that's what we did, and everyone had a great time.

We talk a lot about peace during Advent.  So many of us long for peace in our lives and in the world.  I often pray that peace exists within the congregation that I serve, within my family that often has its challenges, and within my spirit.  Peace seems like a difficult thing to achieve or obtain these days, especially as we read again of another shooting, more war, and the inability of our government to make decisions.  How can we even fathom world peace when we can't get along with our neighbors?  It's huge...and yet it is so simple.  Peace exists on the basketball court on Wednesday nights when young people (and sometimes older ones) are more concerned about others than themselves.  Peace comes to life when the score doesn't matter and the experience does.  Peace comes when we are able to laugh at our mistakes and keep on playing hard, giving it our best.  

I'm proud of my church for being a place where everyone is loved as a child of God.  I'm proud of the youth-group God brought together that is like no other youth-group on the planet.  I'm grateful for a God who has the bigger-picture in mind, but lets me be amazed at some of the details.

Peace, friends.

50 Shades of Proverbs...

When you were a kid did you ever play with one of those paddles with the ball on an elastic string?  I don't know how many times i got going with one of those and the ball would come back and hit me in the eye.  These toys take talent!  

Imagine my joy when my Monday morning Bible study read this in Proverbs:

Like tying a stone in a sling
    is the giving of honor to a fool.  (26:8)

It's like America's Funniest Videos, the guy who actually ties the rock to his sling shot and then wonders why it hits him in the face.  Who knew it was Biblical?!?  

Actually our study of Proverbs has been pretty interesting thus far.  There are many themes that run throughout the book.  We discuss the power of wisdom and just how we may obtain it.  The images that Proverbs placed in our minds often get us laughing, but usually we agree that they are right on target even for today.  Just think about these:  

A sluggard buries his hand in the dish;
    he is too lazy to bring it back to his mouth. (26:15)


If you find honey, eat just enough—
    too much of it, and you will vomit.
¹⁷ Seldom set foot in your neighbor’s house—
    too much of you, and they will hate you. (25:16-17)

Better to live on a corner of the roof
    than share a house with a quarrelsome wife. (25:24)


Some of you may offer up an "AMEN!" for that last one, and I pray that none of you are sitting on the corner of the roof tonight.  

I have been pondering the role of wisdom in our lives.  It seems that it's importance has diminished as culture has changed.  The prominence of family proverbs, handed down from generation to generation has been affected by the prevalence of divorce and broken family structures.  We are learning about wisdom from reality television shows...that is scary!  Maybe this is one of the places where the importance of the church has grown.  In a society where being busy and rushed reign, the church offers us that time to stop and sit and be as we worship together.  It's the place where we talk about tradition and ritual and where we share the meal of the Eucharist. The church can really be a powerful witness to the power of wisdom...especially when keep the main thing, the main thing.  

Rather than expounding on the songs we sing (or don't sing), more important than the way the chairs are set-up, or the strength of the coffee...the church offers us a place to learn from those who came before us while also teaching us the importance of listening to the smallest children in our midst.  God's wisdom is poured out upon us when we gather.  That's pretty powerful, and very exciting.  

I believe the God still entrust the church as a vehicle for the redemption of the world.  Do we trust the church?  How can we reclaim the power of wisdom and its ability to create peace?  

An "In Your Face" Kind of Love.

Grandparents are a blessing.  To still have them in your life when you're 32 is something to be cherished.  I haven't been the best granddaughter for the last few years.  I have to admit that I've often chosen "work" over family, not to mention that they live 3 hours away from me.  Nevertheless I have always tried my best to spend time with them whenever possible.  They love to go out for breakfast.  I have wonderful memories of many a Bob Evans run on an early Saturday morning, and no matter where they moved or how things had changed they always made me feel like they were proud that I was their granddaughter.  I have special memories of them that will forever stay with me, like the smell of their house, the soft tick-tock of the grandfather clock in their living room, and the taste of the giant green olives from Grandpa's happy-hour Manhatten.  

For the first time in 66 years my grandparents are living in separate places.  Grandma's memory is failing as is her heart.  We're not sure how much longer she will be with us in this life and none of us want her to suffer.  I've been really concerned about her since the most recent move, especially in light of a recent hospital stay during which we uncovered the reason for her rapid memory loss:  small heart attacks.  On Friday I had the most wonderful opportunity to visit her in her new place.  As I entered into the dementia-unit there she was sitting at the table with the rest of the folks.  She wasn't sure why she was there, but was certain that she was supposed to go home (to Grandpa) and not stay there.  She wanted me to call him and find out when he would pick her up, where the car was parked, and why she was in this place.  As I looked into her eyes my heart hurt for her.  Here sat my strong grandmother, former Citizen's Bank head-honcho.  This is the woman who beat me at Rummikub a million times, the woman who loved to read, the one who cared for me when I was sick.  This time when I looked into her eyes I saw a scared child looking back at me, filled with confusion and short of breath.  

I know these things are facts of life.  I have been part of this journey for so many people, encouraging family members, even sharing in that most sacred journey as one transitions from this life into life eternal.  I know that my grandma knows Jesus, though we haven't ever really had a serious conversation about it.  I simply don't want her to feel afraid or abandoned by a family who loves her so much.  After visiting over supper we moved into the activity room where trivia questions led to Christmas Carols and devotions.  It was a blessing to my soul to be present while Grandma answered those questions and sang those songs.  She is still "in there".

Grandma and Grandpa were my #1 fans when I played basketball in high school.  They came to our games and made sure they encouraged us.  I'll never forget the moment I realized how important we (the grandkids) really were to Grandma.  She had been sitting near a fan from the "away" team that had been yelling "in your face" each time a basket was scored for our opposition.  "In your face!"  What an obnoxious thing to yell, right?!  It just so happened that we won that game, at which time my Grandma got up, got in that man's face and yelled, "In YOUR face!"  Imagine a nearly 70 year-old, white-haired, 5'3" lady yelling that at the top of her lungs.  Right then and there Grandma was a hero.  I realized that she probably would have yelled at him even if we'd lost...just because her love was that "in your face."  (Hence the Black & Orange...Go Fennville High School!)

It's real love when you're sitting in the bleachers and you just can't hardly stand that someone would pick on one of your family members.  It's the kind of love that is rooted in a deep respect and appreciation not just for the birthday parties and Christmas presents...the kind of love that's in your face whether you're on vacation in Florida together or sitting in the activity room of a nursing home.  

Grandma and I, giving her the prayer quilt from Lake Ann UMC. 

In 1 Corinthians 13 Paul speaks about our current situation of looking through a mirror dimly.  He proclaims that when Perfection comes, when Christ returns, we will then see things clearly.  My Grandma is in that dim space and the lights are getting dimmer.  My prayer is that in the dimness she reaches toward the light of Christ, the light of Peace and Love.  I also pray that though I am not sitting next to her she knows that I am proud of who she was and is, and that I am grateful for the strength that she instilled in all of us gals. 

That "In your face" kind of love and support is hard to find and can so often be taken for granted.  As we approach Christmas and ponder what present to buy or parties to attend, can we root ourselves in the quest to share this kind of love?  This is the kind of love that serves as the foundation for Christ's coming to earth as a child, a humble beginning for an "in your face" love.  Let's take some time to appreciate and encourage those we love.  Instead of giving more stuff can we take some time to just be present with each other?  Can we count Sacred the moments we have with our family members and friends?  

After all, that's what Christmas is really all about......"in your face...."

Plastic Santas and Cows for Milking

I just saw a Saturn with a plastic Santa on top of it riding through town.  I dig people who can actually pull off plastic Santas.  As I sit here working on all the things I didn't finish this week I am enjoying watching the people go past.  Earlier a mother came in here with her young daughter.  They just happened to sit by another family with two small children.  I watched as they examined each other and then screamed with joy when their eyes connected.  The little boy was wearing his pj's complete with camouflage rain boots.  The little girl ate only the cream-cheese part of her bagel and put the rest down...it was too boring, I suppose.    They were so excited to meet one another, though they never really said anything at all.  

This morning I've been talking with some folks in Homa Bay, Kenya.  How awesome technology is that I can directly call the folks working for our children's homes.  There's been such good news coming from the centers lately.  Wonderful reports of well-fed and clothed children who are singing praises to God.  Young people achieving success in school.  And on this side of the organization I am overwhelmed by people willing to donate extra time and funds to make sure the children have new t-shirts for Christmas, or to purchase land on which to grow mangoes.  God is so present in my life these days that it is almost overwhelming.  I am so aware of my inadequacies as a Pastor and as the Executive Director of Hearth to Hearth Ministries that it sometimes stops me in my tracks.  Who am I to think I have the abilities to do God's work?  

The truth is that I don't.  I am just like those little children who scream with joy when human connection is made.  I am overcome to know that even when different languages are spoken we can connect with one another through the presence of the Holy Spirit.  If only I were brave enough, I too could scream with delight when I encounter God's work.  

We Christians are so caught up in being right that it makes us ineffective.  The eternal struggle of  "removing Christmas" has been in the news recently.  We cry when our Commandments are forcibly removed from Courts of Law.  We are frustrated when young people have sports on Sundays.  What if it is really just our opportunity to actually sing of God's work and presence?  We don't need a sign or poster to declare that this is still God's world and into it breaks the Prince of Peace.  Do you think the guy with the plastic Santa really cares if someone doesn't like the fact that it's on the top of his car?  I doubt it.  He wants to spread laughter and joy...and if it takes some molded plastic then so be it.  

I think it's time that we recognize and proclaim the active presence of God rather than complain about it being "stolen" from us.  If you want to say Merry Christmas...do it.  If you want to put a plastic Jesus on your car and drive around...do it.  But more importantly let's squeal with delight when the Holy Spirit moves.  Let's be excited about the Christ in each other.  It is up to us to claim the real Joy of Christmas.  

Alice and the gals of Good Samaritan

The joy of my morning came right at the end of one of my phone calls to Kenya.  It came from a wonderful woman named Alice, who serves as a matron of our Good Samaritan Children's Home.  We had a serious conversation which ended with her saying, "I have a cow.  I'm milking a cow right now!"  For Alice and the children for whom she cares the delicious milk of the cow is the presence of the Christ Child: new opportunities for strength, nourishment, and blessing.  Alice's joy overflowed.....does yours?


Today I choose child-like joy...Wahoo!