Fear

I went to a doctor's appointment today. I will not go into the details of the visit, let's just say it was a doctor that specializes in females. The first time I went to this type of doctor, it was an awful, horrible, embarrassing, painful (insert other ugly words here) experience. Because of that, I have made procrastinating those types of appointments into an art form. Since I've been having some iron problems related to being a woman, I had no choice but to go...my family doctor made me do it.

As I was sitting in the lobby today, I was nervous about the experience, about the unknown, about getting yelled at for going 7 years without such a visit, etc. As I sat there, I kept telling myself: "You've had major surgery; this cannot be that bad...most things will never be that bad again". I found comfort in my previous pain...knowing that I now had first-hand experience, and a new perspective, of what real pain truly feels like.

When I went back with the nurse, she asked me questions, including how long it had been since my last appointment. When I told her, she was not gracious. She definitely used the word "should" (known in counseling circles as the "language of blame"). My response to her was: "Well, at least I'm here now" (I learned--and internalized--that phrase from my fabulous dentist and his amazingly compassionate office staff). I think it was the first time in my life where I was acutely aware, in the precise moment, of someone's attempt to make me feel bad about something and my refusal to do such. I felt very empowered. This whole year has been a year of being pro-active about my health, of doing whatever it takes to get the healthiest life and body possible...and I am doing a great job with it. You can't change the past. You can only go forward with the future. I have no time for beating myself up about what I "should" do or "could" have done. That's just pointless. I actually stood up for myself today--me, an avowed people pleaser--and it felt great. This was truly a monumental experience.

The whole day, however, made me think about the nature of fear. How many things do I avoid because I am afraid? In reality, the thing I fear is never as bad as I expect it to be (nothing to fear but fear itself?). I was worried about pain today, but realized I now have a much different definition of, and threshold for, pain. I was worried about awkwardness and feeling uncomfortable, but learned that some doctors are so good at what they do that you barely notice the strangeness of the ritual. I was worried about being shamed for avoiding those appointments for so long; instead, I learned that no one can make you feel shame if you refuse to do so (i.e. Eleanor Roosevelt's: "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent"). If I had continued to skip those appointments, I may never have learned those valuable lessons.

So, I am examining my life today in light of fear. What am I avoiding because I am afraid? In my emotional life, in my spiritual life, in my ministry: where am I holding back because being where I am feels safer than the unknown? And, perhaps the biggest question of all: What am I missing out on because of those fears and the consequent paralysis?

God does not want us to be bound by fear. Here is just one of many verses that remind us of the need to boldly step out in faith in all areas of our lives.
"For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline."
~2 Tim. 1:7

Stages of Forgiveness

I am doing a lot of reading for my Doctorate of Ministry program...more accurately, I have been doing a lot of procrastination of said reading...

Today, however, I read one of the books for my "Counseling the Aging" class. I had no great expectations for this book. It is not that I don't care about older people or the struggles they face as they age, because I do. I just expected a book about it to be rather dry. I have been pleasantly surprised. If you know anyone who is a caregiver to aging parents, may I suggest the book to them: "Caring for Your Aging Parents: When Love is Not Enough" by Barbara Dean. There was some useful stuff in there.

I particularly appreciated her discussion about family dynamics: unresolved issues and expectations between adult children and their aging parents, frustration, friction and misunderstandings between siblings, etc. She was certainly honest about the reality of those situations...and offered some thoughts on forgiveness. She quotes a Christian counselor named David Brewer in regard to forgiveness being a process, with a series of stages (rather than a simple, instantaneous event). I found this interesting, and applicable to most of us who are human and have been hurt by others (a universal experience of living).

To forgive as Christ forgave us, Brewer says we must move through four stages:
1) "Reaction": An injury is inflicted and we react by withdrawing from the source of the pain.
2) "Evaluation": We reflect on what has happened and arrive at a value judgment. We feel threatened and react with more pain and anger.
3) "Decision": We may decide to forgive, but our forgiveness may be false. There are two types of false forgiveness:

• "blind forgiveness" in which we deny that anything significant has happened. We make ourselves forget by burying the incident; we may keep busy (especially with "religious" activities) in order to distract ourselves. The result of this is a superficial, surface kind of Christian life.
• "expectant forgiveness" in which our forgiveness depends on whether the person to be forgiven acts in a certain way. ("If he acts sorry, I'll forgive him," we may say). This gives the other person control over our spiritual lives.

4) "Action": True forgiveness. This involves becoming full aware of how someone's offense has threatened us, including experiencing the painful feelings associated with the offense, facing the part we are playing in keeping the resentment alive, and repenting of our failure to be honest about our feelings and to depend on God alone for our sense of self-worth.

(from David Brewer, "Why Can't I Forgive?" Discipleship Journal, Issue 46, 1998, pp. 27-29)

The author of the book I've been reading said this, after listing Brewer's stages:

How will we know that we have truly forgiven someone? When we can think of the person in full acknowledgement of what he has done without feelings of pain and resentment, honestly desiring the best for him.

Given that definition, I think there are a couple people I still need to forgive. I'm going to work on that!

Making 8's

Since I was young, the quickest way to get me to NOT do something is to tell me to do it (ask my mom; she developed very creative parenting techniques to motivate me; in many ways, she was a genius, because I could be a strong-willed little thing). I remember being in preschool--maybe 4 years old. We were learning how to write our numbers. We came to the number 8. I liked to make my 8's by putting two circles on top of each other. The teacher told me this was incorrect...that I needed to make more of a continuous motion, kind of a "figure 8". Well, I thought that was stupid. My 8 looked like an 8; why did I need to do it any differently? Wasn't the purpose to represent an 8 to the world? Who cared how I made it? I am not sure I had all those thoughts as a 4 year old, but I do remember my defiant attitude. I was NOT going to change my 8's unless the teacher convinced me of why it was important (which she did not effectively do). I remember making my 8s the same way that I always had, and then going back and darkening the lines between the circles so that it looked like I had made the 8s in one continuous motion. It took a lot longer than if I had just done it the way the teacher asked me to do it...but I stubbornly refused. The funny part, she congratulated me on what a good job I was doing on my 8's...even though I was still doing it my way (unbeknownst to her). Why this is one of my earliest memories, I cannot say! Pretty twisted, aye?

I have an uncle who is also a Methodist pastor. He takes his portable (enclosed) coffee mug with him and sets it on the pulpit when he preaches. This really bothers a number of people in the congregation. I think "what is the worst that could happen? It might spill and you'd have to clean it up? What is the big deal?" Unless someone could explain to me (i.e. CONVINCE me) why this has any deep or eternal significance, my natural instinct would be to bring 2 coffee mugs onto the pulpit just to prove a point.

Admittedly, this is not a great feature of my personality. It is defiant and willful. The flip-side of that part of my personality leads to some great qualities: I know who I am, can think for myself, can vision and see outside the box, don't let convention keep me from trying new things, am able to distinguish what is truly important in life, etc. The down side of being willful and defiant (being what I dubbed a "rule breaker") is that you can think your ideas are more important than the ideas of others. Just because I do not share someone else's passion about something does not mean that their passion is unimportant. It is important to them...and if you care about someone, you need to attempt to care about the things they care about...or, at the very least, seek to understand the things they care about. This has been one of the hardest lessons I have learned in pastoral ministry...to be sensitive to what others are concerned with, even if it makes no sense to me...all the while keeping "the main thing, the main thing".

In my relationship with God, defiance can also be a problem. For the most part, God's commandments make sense to me. I see what He is getting at and I gladly follow because I share His logic. But there are things God has yet to explain or reveal to me...and at those points, I sometimes dig my heels in and fight back. It is not good, or pretty, but God and I are making progress. Still, when He tells me to "wait"...I get mad. If God would just explain why, if I could understand His reasoning, then I would gladly do whatever He said. When He leaves me in the dark, I get annoyed...it makes as much sense to me as my teacher telling me to make my 8's a different way. Tell me WHY!!! But God does not bend Himself to my will...and it is at that point where I am continually being taught lessons about faith and trust.

Something that has driven that lesson home for me in recent years: A while back, there was a young man that I was very smitten with--perhaps I even loved him. He seemed to be the embodiment of everything I had ever looked for in a guy: loved Jesus, made me laugh, could talk to him for hours about anything, thought he was brilliant and attractive and just loved to spend time with him. He was not without his flaws, but had no tragic flaws...no "deal breakers". In the course of spending time with him, I realized that he did not love me...or, if he did have any feelings for me, they were not strong enough to pursue a relationship with me (even though we seemed to "click" on multiple levels). He never really gave me an answer for why that wasn't there for him, just that he did not want a romantic relationship with me. I so desperately wanted to know "why"...wanted him to tell me something...that he was not attracted to me, that the timing was bad, that he just didn't see a future with us for some specific reason...something, anything...just an answer, even if it was hard to hear.

I prayed about this situation for a long time and struggled with God in the midst of it, saying things like: "Please, just let me know 'why'; You, Lord, who know everything, just help me understand this so that I can get over it and move on. I need an answer to "why". Please". I prayed that, on and off, with varying degrees of intensity for probably 2 years. Finally, the Lord spoke to me...not an audible voice, but with such a strong impression in my spirit that I knew it had to be Him speaking. God said: "You are not going to get an answer to this and you are going to have to find a way to let it go...for good".

I was very mad at God, because that is not the answer I wanted. I wanted resolution, on my terms. He said, "No. You are going to have to trust me on this". After being upset with my "answer", I finally found a way to let that go (which, in a strange ritual, involved dropping/throwing a big rock off a pier into Lake Erie). Symbolically, I let go of the hope, the frustration, the unknown...and found a way to rest in God's goodness, even when He would not give me the explanation that I sought. That to me is a refining of my will, a polishing of the nature in me which needs to be convinced before I trust. I am learning to trust in God simply because I know He is good and wills the best for me in every situation, whether I understand the "hows" and "whys" or not.

Incidentally, I now make my 8s the way the teacher asked me to in the first place. Maybe that is evidence of God's slow-moving, soul-changing grace at work in my life.

Being a Rule Breaker

A few years ago, I went to a Small Groups Conference with two colleagues (more accurately described as good friends). The speaker had us do an "ice breaker". We were supposed to turn to our neighbor and tell them if you are a "rule breaker" or "rule follower". Both of my friends turned, instantly, pointed at me and said in unison: "rule breaker". Then we all laughed.

It is true, I would accurately be called a "rule breaker". I like to think my own thoughts, do my own thing. Perhaps I have some authority issues (though God is, as always, working with me and refining this stubborn streak that often surfaces in me). The truth is, when someone tells me to do something, my first response is usually: Why? If I love someone, I would go to the moon and back for them, without asking questions--that's probably a lie; I'd ask questions but then follow the path of love and service. For some reason, I am just hesitant to follow orders.

The reason I bring this up today is because I want to talk about the "rule followers"...because, honestly, I just don't understand them. Or more accurately, I just don't understand why they get so bent out of shape when other people break rules. A story to illustrate: I went hiking today. On the particular path I was on, no dogs are allowed. Toward the end of the path, I passed a woman with a dog...a big, scary looking dog. I did think, as I passed her, "You're not allowed to have dogs on the path". But then I thought, "Who am I? The rule police". She can choose to follow the rules or not--and also to deal with the consequences of those choices,whatever they may be--it is not really my concern. Plus, that was a scary dog, and the woman was even scarier. I wasn't risking my life to point out that no dogs are allowed on the path. (In all fairness, the dog was on a leash and the woman was in complete control of said dog...it was just an ugly dog).

As I was exiting the path, a frantic woman approached me and started talking to me. I had to take my earphones out to hear her. She says: "Did that woman have a pit bull? On the path?" She asked this with the same intensity as if the dog woman were holding hostages inside a bank or something. I said, "I think so". Intense, rule-following woman says: "Well, she's not allowed to do that. There are no dogs allowed on the path." I guess I gave her a "what do I look like, the park ranger?" look, because she raced off to confront the woman about her earth-halting, rule infraction. The dog walking woman had to be twice the size of the little, irate lady. I was picturing the altercation. In my mind, I saw dog woman saying: "Yeah, so what are you gonna do about it?" to the rule Nazi. Perhaps I should have cared more...but it was 80+ degrees, I had just walked/run for 5 miles, I was hot, thirsty, and ready to get into my car and crank the air conditioning. I also thought, "Don't we have park rangers for this kind of thing?" It is not that I shrug off my civic responsibilities or that I am unconcerned with creating a just world--nor am I afraid of confrontation (I could actually stand to be a little less comfortable with confrontation). I just know there are a lot of things in life that I am responsible for, that I HAVE to do...this didn't seem like one of them. Then again, I am a "rule breaker", so what do I know?!

I did have a "rule follower" kind of moment today, though. About half way down the path, I came across a whole collection of water bottles discarded on the side of the path. There must have been 20 of them, at least. It really made me angry, because why would anyone just throw their empty water bottle on the side of the road? Do they think nature is their personal trash can? Plus, if you are going to use those water bottles, you could at least recycle them. I think one person started it, and then others thought, "Hey, I am too tired to carry my water bottle back with me to my car, I'll just add to the collection". If it hadn't been over 2 miles down the path, I would have gotten a trash bag and come back. Next time, I will bring a trash bag with me and recycle the bottles. I guess there are some rules that seem pretty important to me, primarily: "Treat God's people and all of His creation with respect". That, to me, seems like a more important rule than "no dogs on the path". If the rule seems eternally significant, I will follow it without question. Maybe I am not such a rule-breaker after all.

God Can Handle It

There are different situations (or seasons) where I get frustrated with my life...and then turn that emotion toward God. Somehow, God gets the brunt of all my intense emotions. I think I expect God to part The Red Sea or drop down some manna the very moment I demand it...as if He is on my timetable instead of vice versa.

I have always told people that God is big enough to take any emotion that we have, so we might as well share it all with Him. Knowing that He is gracious and compassionate, God's Presence is a safe place to be just who we are--even on the days when who we are is twisted and ugly. God can handle it. God can handle us.

Searching the internet last night, I came across a quote along these lines, discussing the Desert Fathers and their understanding of God's being able to handle whatever we throw at Him. The Desert Fathers are men who would go off in isolation for prolonged periods of time (sometimes years) to seek God and understand Him more fully. Most often, they would go to the desert (hence their name). Sometimes they would go to a cave or some other small, unadorned place. One of them even lived on top of a pole with a small platform (think David Blane in a clear box suspended above a city...but smaller space and no city...and for the purpose of seeking God rather than sensation). Anyway, in their dedication and sacrifice, the Desert Fathers discovered deep and beautiful truths about who God is and what He wants from us. So, I will share this quote that summarizes their thoughts about God being able to handle whatever we bringHis way:

“DECLARE IT ALL” was the advice of the desert fathers, those radical early Christians who took with great seriousness Jesus’ challenge to transform the heart. Declare it all — every thought, every feeling, every cruel intention, every ignoble desire and holy aspiration. Don’t be afraid to present anything to God as it comes into awareness, because you are beheld by a comprehending, compassionate love that knows how to heal your distempers. Everything becomes grist for the mill in spiritual growth, even the hells into which we wander. Some elements will be strengthened, some diminished, but grace can work with it all.
~Robert Corin Morris
Provocative Grace: The Challenge in Jesus’ Words

I love the line "you are beheld by a comprehending, compassionate love that knows how to heal your distempers". We all have "distempers" and are each in desperate need of healing and hope. God is in the constant process of transforming us, making us more Christ-like, converting us from searching, fragmented people into whole, found people. This leads me to another quote which has spoken to me lately:

CONVERSION is going on all the time within us and within the world…While the change of turning toward God may seem like a once-in-a-lifetime experience, it is in reality a continual process. We may think that we have turned fully toward God; then we discover another dimension of God, and we know immediately that more conversion is possible and necessary if we are to move Godward in all of life.
~Rueben P. Job
A Guide to Prayer for All Who Seek God

My prayer for each of us is that we would be honest with God, presenting all of who we are at His feet. When we open ourselves up to God, being vulnerable, real, authentic...that is when we find transformation and the ability to "move Godward in all of life". Let's move Godward today.

The 15-Minute Principle

I've been thinking about excercise and how it can teach us a lot about the rest of life. The other day, I blogged about how it takes about 10-15 minutes of sluggishness before excercise (or, at least, the good feeling from it) really kicks into gear for me. Maybe that is a good principle for life: sometimes the best things come after making it through the hard part. I am dubbing this the "15-minute principle".

Granted, there are some things in life that are just bad...and no amount of time is going to make them better...so no use torturing ourselves just to reach some good part that will never come. But it does seem to me that anything worth having or worth doing would fall under the auspices of the 15-minute principle. This is especially true in the spiritual life. Maybe it is just me, but I find the beginning of prayer or the beginning of Bible study very difficult. Just getting started is a feat...then I try to find ways out of it (i.e. I suddenly remember all the things that I have to do, instantly, and if I don't do them right that minute the world will certainly come to an end). Just like exercise, though, if you make it through the tough part--the sluggish beginning part--something beautiful happens...you fall into a rhythm, an experience of God's Presence that sustains and feeds you.

I think this 15-minute principle would apply to certain seasons in our lives, as well. Is there an area where you are struggling to see God's faithfulness, where His promises seem far away? Keep pushing through the "15 minutes". We have yet to see what lies on the other side of this arduous, sluggish period of time. Perhaps God will surprise you in ways you could never expect or imagine...or so the 15-minute principle would tell us.

I wonder how many great things in life I have missed because I gave up before I got through the first "15 minutes" of yuckiness. What have I missed in all realms of life, but especially in relationship to God? I like things that are easy and simple, but somehow, the best things are neither easy or simple...but they ARE worth the effort. Something beautiful lies on the other side of the difficult time, if we are willing to see it through to the end and not give up.

Swimming in Prayer

Recently, I have started swimming laps for exercise. I enjoy the way the water feels--love being totally surrounded and supported by it. I have found, with swimming (and with other aerobic exercise), that I absolutely hate the first 10-15 minutes. I feel sluggish and it is difficult to get into the routine of it all. At a certain point, though, something changes...everything comes together. There is a transition (with swimming, cycling, running) where you fall into the rhythm of it. Everything starts to work together, perfectly in harmony: body, mind and soul. To me, it is one of the best experiences in life, feeling completely focused on one thing, experiencing a kind of whole person synergy. Because of that experience of intense focus, exercise feels like a spiritual activity. I feel more connected to myself, and somehow, more connected to the One who made me.

I am especially aware of this connection with God (and with myself) in the water. As I pass through the water, a particular passage of Scripture comes back to me time and again, from Isaiah: "When you pass thought the water, I will be with you...and they waves, they will not overcome you. Do not fear, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. You are Mine." It is almost automatic; as I pass through the water, that passage passes through my soul...and becomes more true to me with each lap I swim.

I have found that I can pray more clearly and effectively as I am swimming...maybe because every part of me that is normally distracted during prayer is focused on keeping me moving through the water, so other parts of my mind are freed up to focus on more important, more eternal things. I picture God's love like water the supports and overflows us and, as a prayer, see the people I love, the people I pray for, surrounded and upheld by that Love--that sustaining, Life-giving, uncontainable Love. Who would have guessed that swimming could be a spiritual experience?

I have also recently discovered Wasabi-coated peas. I cannot say they are a spiritual experience...but they are certainly an experience worth having. If you need some excitement in your life, give them a try.

A Prayer for Today...

Mother Theresa’s "Meditations from A Simple Path":

Dear Lord, the Great Healer,
I kneel before You,
Since every perfect gift must come from You.
I pray, give skill to my hands,
clear vision to my mind,
kindness and meekness to my heart.
Give me singleness of purpose,
strength to lift up part of the burden
of my suffering fellow man,
and a true realization of the privilege that is mine.
Take from my heart all guile and worldliness,
That with the simple faith of a child,
I may rely on you.

The Road of Life

I was recently reminded of a poem that meant a lot to me in high school. I guess, at the time, I was struggling to see God as something other than a Cosmic score keeper. It was just starting to dawn on me that, perhaps, God wanted to have a relationship with me that was different than what I had known so far on the journey. I still really like this poem and thought I would share it with you.

The Road of Life by Tim Hansel (not sure who this is or if this is really the author; every other source says the author is unknown)

“At first, I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong, so as to know whether I merited Heaven or hell when I die. He was out there sort of like a president.

But later on when I met Christ, it seemed as though life were rather like a bike ride, but it was a tandem bike, and I noticed that Christ was in the back helping me pedal.

I don’t know just when it was that He suggested we change places, but life has not been the same since. When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring, but predictable….It was the shortest distance between two points.

But when He took the lead, He knew delightful long cuts, up mountains, and through rocky places at breakneck speeds, it was all I could do to hang on! Even though it looked like madness, He said, “Pedal!”

I worried and was anxious and asked, “Where are you taking me?” He laughed and didn’t answer, and I started to learn to trust.

I forgot my boring life and entered into the adventure. And when I’d say, “I’m scared,” He’d lean back and touch my hand.

He took me to people with gifts that I needed, gifts of healing, acceptance and joy. They gave me gifts to take on my journey, my Lord’s and mine.

And we were off again. He said, “Give the gifts away; they’re extra baggage, too much weight.” So I did, to the people we met, and I found that in giving I received, and still our burden was light.

I did not trust Him, at first, in control of my life. I thought He’d wreck it; but He knows bike secrets, knows how to make it bend to take sharp corners, knows how to jump to clear high rocks, knows how to fly to shorten scary passages.

And I am learning to shut up and pedal in the strangest places, and I’m beginning to enjoy the view and the cool breeze on my face with my delightful constant companion, Jesus Christ.
And when I’m sure I just can’t do any more, He just smiles and says, “Pedal.”

Commandeered by Jesus

One of the fabulous preachers at Annual Conference, Will Willimon (big Methodist guru), gave a sermon about Jesus and the rich young ruler. This rich guy came to Jesus, asking what he had to do to gain eternal life. Jesus tells him to keep all the commandments. The man replies that he has already done that. So, Jesus then tells the man to sell all he has and give it away. At this, Jesus and the man part company. The sermon was about how Jesus keeps "upping the ante" on discipleship--how He keeps asking for more and more of us and from us, until we cry out, "What more do You want from me?" And it is at that point, that point where we ask "what more can I give?" that we really start to get what Jesus was talking about...and how that itself is a gift of love to us.

The phrase that Willimon used which stuck out to me was about Jesus "commandeering" our lives, how that is the intention--to take over, to take complete control. First, I love the word "commandeer"...great word. Secondly, what a great word picture. Someone in authority stops you and says, "I need to commandeer your property for a greater purpose". Is this what Jesus does with us, commandeering who we are for a greater purpose than we could ever accomplish on our own?

Willimon also talked about the Christian life being transformative in nature, rather than stagnate. He discussed grace, how we have made grace into this weak thing that requires nothing of us and let's us get away with whatever we want. Bonhoeffer talks about "costly grace" (as opposed to "cheap grace"), which is what Willimon was getting at, I guess. The thing that cost God in Christ everything should not be taken lightly. Our response to grace is one of a total life commitment, an offering of all we have and all we have into the hands of God.

There are places I hold back from God, fears that freeze my feet in one place. When God says jump, I say, "Seriously?" instead of "How high?". I love the phrase: "Saying 'No, Lord' is an oxymoron". You cannot follow Jesus as Lord and say "no" when he calls. You cannot follow Jesus as Lord and say "no" when he comes to commandeer every part of who you are. It sounds scary, that giving up of complete control. Still, everything worth doing has risks. There are depths of grace that we cannot know until we jump into the fullness of who God is...until we really let Jesus take total control. That is my prayer for you and for me, that we will be completely commandeered by Jesus.

4 Things I'm Pretty Sure I Think

It has been a busy week and many thoughts are spinning through my head. So, tonight, I think I will steal from my friend, Bryan Bucher, and do a list of things I am thinking. He has a recurring blog called "10 Things I Think I Think". Tonight, I can only come up with 4 things that I am pretty sure I think...so here they are...

Four Things I'm Pretty Sure I Think
1) Speaking of my friend Bryan Bucher (check out the link to his blog on the left, though he has become a blogging slacker as of late): Bryan stayed at a house right across the street from Hoover auditorium (where we have our main sessions at Annual Conference). Every time I walked by, he was sitting on the front porch of his house, listening to what was happening across the street. I don't think he ever set foot inside the auditorium, yet still managed to know all the goings on. That, to me, is the epitome of coolness. I, on the other hand, felt the need to make sure the bishop and my district superintendent saw my face at least one time...not that either of them know who I am, but just in case. This is probably a characteristic that the cool do not share--the need to be seen or to impress. There are some people who simply ooze "cool" (like Bucher), a lack of need to impress, a security in who one is regardless of what others think. I want that kind of abandon of convention--the freedom to just be who you are, as you are. I ooze "sweet" but am only in training for cool...

2) The other night, I woke up in horrible pain...felt like someone was stabbing me in the face (literally). The pain was right round the area where I had my temporary crown put in less than a week ago. I was awake most of the night, popping Tylenol like an addict. Eventually the drugs kicked in, but I slept through the morning session because I felt so bad and, apparently, missed one of the best worship services in the history of the world. Such is my lot in life. I called my dentist. He called in a prescription for an anti-biotic to a pharmacy near Lakeside. Unfortunately, it looks like I'm going to need a root canal. I don't even know what that is, but it sounds horrible. If it makes my face stop throbbing, though, I guess it will be worth it.

3) The pastor who spoke this morning (and the previous morning, at the service I missed) was incredible...one of the best speakers I've heard. He was passionate, intense, convicting, real, and raw...a great combination. He was talking about the waters of Bethesda and the man that Jesus healed (as the man was waiting for the waters to stir). Jesus told him to "take up your mat and walk". The preacher (Rudy Rasmus) threw himself on the ground, right up there on stage, and pretended to inch toward the water. His point was that we should do anything we can to get ourselves toward the healing that Jesus provides, rather than being victims of our own pain or predicaments. I pictured myself doing that in my church and wondered how many people might have a heart attack if I full-body scooted across the chancel area. More seriously, I thought about how much more passionate I could be in my preaching, in my life...how much more energy and substance I could put into what I say and who I am. I felt very convicted, and inspired.

4) The main impression annual conference has left on me this year has to do with my own spiritual life. Being here, listening to sermons, reconnecting with friends, walking by the lake, laying awake in awful pain with nothing to do but think and pray...it has all made me long for more of God. I want to pray more, to love God more fully, to seek Him with all that I am, rather than just part. I guess I was feeling pretty satisfied in my spiritual life. Things weren't great, but they weren't bad. I was settling for status quo. But I want more now. I think of the spiritual life like a huge ocean...the depths of intimacy with God go so much deeper than we can even measure. Yet how many of us settle for a puddle's worth of God when there is an ocean available? I want the ocean. I am not settling for less any more.

Lakeside Antics

I am currently at annual conference in Lakeside, Ohio. This is a yearly, regional meeting of methodist pastors and lay people, for the purpose of...well, I don't know what the purpose is, really. For me, the purpose is talking with as many people as I can (guess you'd call that "networking"; I call it being an extrovert in a whole auditorium filled with people). I think there are around 2,500 of us here is this little lakeside community (appropriately called "Lakeside", right on the shores of Lake Erie). I am not sure about that statistic, because I overheard some random person saying it today...who knows if he was making it up or not, but it sounded like a reasonable guess to me. This pretty much means that every where you go, there are people--lots of them, crammed into a small space. I am staying at the "youth house", meaning every where I go there are lots of young people, being loud and crazy and trying to impress each other. For all the struggles of life, I count my blessings that I am no longer a teenager. What a time of insecurity and searching for identity and meaning. At least I know who I am now. I may not always like what I find, but I do feel more secure in my own skin than I did back then.

It is truly beautiful here at Lakeside. I went for a walk tonight, along the dock and around the water. It is amazing how a lake can look so like an ocean at times. And when the sun is setting and seems to sizzle into the water as it goes down, well that is a view straight from the prettiest part of Heaven.

I came up to Lakeside early this year. The conference technically started tonight (Sunday). I got here yesterday afternoon. I promised my friend Tammy Jo that I would help her set up the pray room here at conference. Tammy Jo was delayed in getting here yesterday and finally made it around midnight. We pretty much stayed up all night getting the prayer room together. It was worth the effort, though, because it looks amazing and is a very peaceful and worshipful space. Still, I cannot remember the last time I went to bed as the sun was coming up (literally).

The other eventful moment of Lakeside so far has to do with my cell phone. I dropped it in my dog's water dish. I was carrying a pile of stuff (as I was packing to leave), with my phone on top, and the phone fell off, just as I was walking past the water dish and "plop". If I had tried to throw the thing into the water dish, I would have missed. But when it fell, at just the right time, at just the right angle, it landed perfectly. I pulled it out right away, dried it off, and it seemed to work alright still. Slowly but surely, it began its ascent toward death. People would call and I could not hear them. Strange colors started appearing. Error messages. Then finally, nothing. So, I had to find a Verizon nearby and buy a new phone. Since it is my only phone (no land line), it is kind of a necessity.

The thing I have learned in the past few days is that you never really know what is coming next in life. You have to be flexible. You have to take the good with the bad. Sometimes you stay up all night doing something good for others. Sometimes you have to spend money that you didn't plan to spend because you did something stupid. That is just the way life goes. Maybe that is what life is all about, anyway: the unexpected things, the things that catch us by surprise. Maybe that is where character is formed, in how we respond and learn from the bends in the road. I keep telling myself that...like when I forgot to bring bedding and towels with me to Lakeside yesterday and had to run to the store and buy something cheap to sleep on and bathe with. There is always something happening...but that is what makes life interesting. And who would want it to be boring?

Pampered Dogs

I went back to the dentist today, to get one crown and 2 filling replacements. I did one side of my mouth today, and the other side will be in November. Maybe by November I will have forgotten how sore your mouth gets from holding it open for almost 2 1/2 hours. The great part about today is that they have little TVs attached to the dentist chair. They moved the TV above my head, so I could watch it during all the drilling and such. So, I watched HGTV the whole time. If it weren't for the awful sounds coming from my mouth, it would have been quite relaxing. Sometimes I don't mind being a pampered American.

An odd thing about today is that my dogs also had a dental procedure, which was scheduled before I knew I needed dental work. The dogs had to be put out with anethesia (guess no veterinarians want to mess around with the teeth of an awake dog). Then their teeth were cleaned; it's supposed to happen once a year; I wonder what dogs did in the wild without dental appointments?! Little Ariel even has a bandage on her arm where the IV went, and she is milking it for all it's worth, walking around like she had major surgery or something.

I share all this fascinating info. about my dogs because it has made me think about the inequality that America has with the rest of the world. I mean, seriously, we take our dogs to the dentist. In some countries, they eat dogs...or at least keep them outside. Now, I adore my dogs...and they know it...but my dogs are treated better than millions of children who cannot afford food, who don't have access to clean water, who live in danger of malaria and AIDS at every turn. Children in the United States suffer, too...but still, the majority of people in the rest of the world have it a lot rougher than we do. I once read that a person living at the poverty level in America is still among the top 5 percent wealthiest people in the world. A sobering fact. Of whom much is given, much is required.

The lay leader from my church went to the Dominican Republic on a mission trip and was surprised by the children, how they went crazy for balloons and little plastic toys...probably because they had no toys. She made the comment that dogs in the US have more toys than these kids. I think that is sad.

I am not sure what to do with that inequity or the guilt it produces in me. I think it is good to feel guilty every once in a while. It makes you examine yourself and your life more fully. Too often though, I feel a little tinge of guilt, and then resume my normal, pampered, overindulged American lifestyle.

I think God's heart breaks at the suffering of the people He created. I am sure the inequity of our life situations is not lost on Him. Does that mean I stop taking my dogs to get their teeth cleaned or never buy them a toy? I'm not sure that is the answer, because they need care and love, too. But, I feel convicted that I need to be much more proactive about ending injustice in the world...giving some of my physical, spiritual, and emotional resources to help those who suffer. If anyone has some good ideas on how to do that in simple, concrete ways, let me know.

On an unrelated note (or perhaps not so unrelated), because today is the 40th anniversary of Robert F. Kennedy's assassination, here is a quote:

Moral courage is a rarer commodity than bravery in battle or great intelligence. Yet it is the one essential, vital quality of those who seek to change a world which yields most painfully to change.
~Robert F. Kennedy, in a speech in Capetown, South Africa, June 6, 1966.

Above All, Trust in the Slow Work of God

Recently, I went to a bookstore at a Catholic retreat center. They had these fabulous cards (as in "greeting cards") with wonderfully deep sayings on them (the kinds of things they don't sell in Protests book stores--not that Protestants are shallow, but I tire of some of the mass marketed Christian products and sayings I see...a blog topic for another day). One of the cards I bought said this on the front:

"Above all, trust in the slow work of God"

I thought that was a beautiful sentiment about God's timing being different than ours, yet reminding us that He is still faithful, still at work, even through what may seem slow by our standards.

The card I bought attributed this saying to Teresa of Avila. When I googled it, I became less certain. I came across a poem/prayer with the title "Above all, trust in the slow work of God" and it is attributed to Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (which I think is a really cool name). I am not sure who is the true author or where this comes from, but it is beautiful and I pray that it will encourage you.

Above All, Trust in the Slow Work of God
Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way
to something unknown,
something new.
Yet it is the law of all progress that is made
by passing through some stages of instability
and that may take a very long time.
And so I think it is with you.
Your ideas mature gradually.
Let them grow.
Let them shape themselves without undue haste.
Do not try to force them on
as though you could be today what time
-- that is to say, grace --
and circumstances
acting on your own good will
will make you tomorrow.
Only God could say what this new Spirit
gradually forming in you will be.
Give our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.
Above all, trust in the slow work of God,
our loving vine-dresser.
Amen.

What matters is that you are here now...

A confession: I have not been to the dentist in 6 or 7 years...that is, until today. Since this is the year of getting healthy for me, I decided it was time to take care of my teeth. Truly, I am obsessed with brushing my teeth, but not the greatest flosser. Ok, I don't even own floss (but bought some tonight...a landmark event).

I found a dentist nearby and think he is fabulous, as well as all his employees. It was as great an experience as going to the dentist can be! The odd thing to me: the dentist is younger than me, by about 3 years. This seems like a major life transition, when people in positions of authority, who used to be older, are suddenly younger than you. It takes a while for age to catch up, because those kinds of professions require a lot of school...meaning you are almost in your 30s before you begin your real job (it's true for pastors, as well). I know that is not an earth shatteringly monumental experience, but it seemed strange...like a rite of passage or something (the "when did I get old enough to have a dentist younger than me" rite).

Since I had a bunch of cavities when I was younger and am now significantly older, it is time for filling replacements in several teeth. I guess those old silver fillings aren't holding up so well after 20 some years: cracking, breaking, pulling away from the teeth...a variety of things that sound really unpleasant. So, I need two crowns and three new fillings (replacements)...but no root canals (which makes me dance with joy) and no new cavities. The cost for this all-terrain mouth adventure is close to $2500. In fact, I can only do half of it right now because I can't afford the other half. I guess, if you divide that cost by the number of years it's been since I went to the dentist, it is not such a bad annual cost. However, in one big chunk, it seems pretty pricey. But someday, in the nursing home, when I can chew my food with my own teeth, it will be worth it.

The thing that has made me reflect today was the way I was treated by the dentist and his staff. I expected, after such a long hiatus from dentistry, to be yelled at, lectured, made to feel myriad varieties of guilt, etc. That is not what happened, though. I was asked by the receptionist, the hygienist, and the dentist how long it had been since I was at the dentist. I told the truth (I can't lie when asked a specific question; it is physically impossible for me...but the sin of omission, of that I am the master! Ask my mom). I expected shock and awe. Instead, they each asked me if something had happened to keep me from coming back to the dentist. No. It was pretty much a combination of no dental insurance, lack of money, and then so much time had passed that I felt guilty. As of January, I suddenly have dental insurance (very minimal; it pays for x-rays and cleanings, but none of the major work I need done)...so, I decided it was time to venture back. Each person that asked me about my lengthy dental absence responded to me by saying, "Well, what's important is that you are here now".

That, to me, is the essence of grace...not making people feel like doo-doo when they mess up. You still acknowledge what has happened, but then celebrate what is happening in the moment. That response makes me want to go back to the dentist. Had I been reprimanded, I would not be so quick to schedule my next appointment. That is probably a truth we could apply to most life situations. People mess up. People disappoint us. People fail to be what they promise to be. They don't do the things they should do. Sometimes, because they feel badly about it, people don't come back to doing what they should because of shame. And, unfortunately, many times, we just add to the shame that others have because we don't respond with grace...grace that says, "You know what, none of us is perfect, what matters is that you are here now". I want to be the "what matters is that you are here now" person in someone's life.

I pray that we can all do that for others...to give second chances, offer encouragement instead of reproach, and new starts instead of rehashing the past. Let's overwhelm the world with grace. I experienced that today, and it makes all the difference.

The Definition of Sin

I've been thinking about sin today, since we had a discussion about "sinners" in Bible study this morning. We read several verses about how God does not hear/answer the prayers of sinners. One lady said, "Well, that can't be true because we are all sinners. Why would we pray at all?" This led to a discussion about being a repentant, forgiveness-seeking sinner as opposed to willfully, hard-heartedly sinning against God. The discussion made me wonder why, when we come across difficult passages in Scripture, our default is to assume the Scriptures are incorrect or misleading, rather than thinking there must be something in us that needs changing or correction. Why is Scripture guilty until proven innocent? Shouldn't we approach God's Word with the understanding that this is Truth and somehow, someway, we need to bend our will/nature to come into compliance with God's teachings? I tried to say something about that this morning, but my diatribe was met with blank looks. Perhaps I will blog about that some other day...for today, sin is still on the mind.

The Sunday School definition of sin is the bad things that we think, say or do. In reality, it is much deeper and more complex than that. Sin is the pervasive bent that we have towards ourselves, instead of toward God, it is anything that is not in His will for us or our world (including the things that we fail to think, say or do).

Our Bible study has focused on prayer--and recently focused on how unconfessed sin sometimes gets in the way of our prayers, or forms a block in our relationship with God. It has made me more mindful of sin (and, as always, aware of the abundant, overwhelming grace and love of God). I have been examining what I watch or read, how I spend my leisure time...none of those things are really bad in and of themselves...but I am reminded of a quote by Susanna Wesley (mother of John Wesley) when her son asked her to define "sin". This is what she said:

“Take this rule: whatever weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense of God, or takes off your relish of spiritual things; in short, whatever increases the strength and authority of your body over your mind, that thing is sin to you, however innocent it may be in itself.”
~Susanna Wesley (Letter, June 8, 1725)

Her definition of sin is anything that doesn't move us closer to God. That's a pretty convicting thought, at least it was to me.

I realize the topic of sin is depressing, but the good news is that God always has more grace than we have sin. The responsibility for us, however, it to take time to truly examine our hearts, with the help of the Holy Spirit, to see if there is anything keeping us from the fullness of relationship that Jesus offers to us. Only when we realize how much God has forgiven us for (and how much He continues to forgive us for) will we be truly grateful, truly free.

What's next, Papa?

Being that this is the season of graduations, we had "Graduation Sunday" at church today. We also recognized our scholarship recipients (since the church has this amazing scholarship fund and gives a sizable amount of money to the students each year, for their college or technical education). The graduates and scholarship recipients took part in the service this morning, leading the different parts. This was a good thing for me, since I had a crazy-busy weekend. Not having to prepare a sermon was a blessing. However, today made me realize that I have some control issues (i.e. obsessing about people moving to the microphone at the right time during the service, cutting down transition times, making things move smoothly, etc). We focused so much on timing and transitions in worship at my last church. I sometimes forget that I am now at a smaller church and they don't mind being a little more laid back. It is rather refreshing, actually.

It is a rarity to sit back during the sermon time and just listen (instead of my usual pontificating). One of the high school graduates gave the message today (probably more accurately described as a "testimony"). She is a remarkable young woman and I think everyone was inspired by her thoughts on faith and life--and even more profoundly, inspired by how she lives those things out in her every day existence. Something she said stuck out to me. She talked about her future plans, and is not really sure what her major in college will be. I think that is common situation at 18 years old, but I know it is frustrating when you are going through it (I had a "major" crisis at the end of my freshman year in college, too). She talked about the need to trust God with her future and how, she was sure, if she worried less and trusted God more, it would all work out...but the worry continues, she confessed.

Sitting back, listening, as an adult who has already passed through the landmark events that she is still going to experience, I wanted to tell her: "You have nothing to worry about. Just enjoy the ride!" I know that exciting adventures await her, things she could not even get her mind around right now if God did try to tell her. It is easier, I realized, to tell other people to trust God...and a lot harder to do it yourself. God has always been faithful to me. I have no reason to doubt that will continue. Still, I worry about the unknowns in my future, as well. I am sure that older, wiser people who have already walked the paths I've yet to walk would tell me not to worry, to sit back and enjoy the ride...but I would probably still worry. Maybe that is just a natural response to the unknown. We are human and we like to know what is coming 'round the bend.

Today, I was reminded to wait for the future in an expectant way. Instead of worrying, I need to trust that God knows what He is doing and already has a plan in progress (well before we even catch a glimpse of that plan).

My dogs always teach me something about God and His interaction with creation. Tonight, I was getting their food ready. The dogs were watching me, almost drooling (as if they hadn't eaten in days). My one little dog, Ariel, was so excited that she started spinning around. She would sit for a few seconds, then she would spin around, expectantly (almost like she was chasing her tail, except she was just overwhelmed by the excitement of the moment). It made me laugh. Here is this little animal who loves and trusts me so completely. For all she knew, I could have been giving her spoiled food, or cheap, nasty tasting dog food...but that thought never crossed her canine mind. Ariel knows that I only give her good things, and she expects nothing less than the best from my hand. Quite a lesson in good theology, I think.

This all reminds me of one of my favorite passages of Scripture. I may have even shared this on the blog before. It comes from The Message paraphrase.

Romans 8: 15-16
"This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike "What's next, Papa?" God's Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children. And we know we are going to get what's coming to us—an unbelievable inheritance!"

I love the phrase "adventurously expectant", and especially love the idea of greeting God with a childlike "What's next, Papa?"

I pray that, for every unknown in your life and future, your response to God will always be: "What's next, Papa?"