I was sort of surprised when I heard “a lot of really good teachers coming to the end of their ropes” and “a teacher living out of her car” last night when I asked for prayer requests at choir practice.
Sadly, I wasn’t surprised by the reality of the requests, rather, I was simply surprised that someone had actually voiced them. I was glad. I think that our reality needs to be spoken...especially since it’s not just our reality. It’s the reality of many persons working in the helping professions.
Long hours.
Little pay.
The expectation to be all things to all people.
Lack of respect.
(What is respect anyway? Media seems to have successfully made it into a joke.)
The demanding, “I.”
(It’s all about me, right?)
A culture of blame.
A black cloud of fear…of accusation, lies, and lawsuits.
Exhaustion so deep that it spans from eyes to heart to toe.
I suppose that there is a counter-balance to all of the above. And I know that the intrinsically rewarding work of helping someone find their voice (quite literally for me) pushes us forward. But I understand how easy it is to lose grip of the rope…and how hard it is to remember the purpose for which we are grasping the rope in the first place.
Lord, I pray for everyone whose hearts are breaking today.
Lord, I pray for everyone whose purpose is fading away.
There is so much hurt, so much blame
So many tears, so much anger
There are so many fears, so many doubts
Lord we need you, we need you, right now
God, we do need you.
You have called us to this work.
Help us keep sight of the goal:
Love that changes everything,
Light that sets us free.
Knowledge that gives humble power,
Courage to live in peace.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Monday, February 24, 2014
Worth Packing The Pew
Yesterday at church, we celebrated Ms. Hortense’s 90th Birthday. Ms. Hortense is a faithful member of Antioch and helps make Antioch the loving church that it is today. Ms. Hortense always greets people with a huge hug and smile and in so doing brings a smile to many faces.
Evidently, Ms. Hortense has deemed the song “Lord Don’t Move That Mountain” as “her” song, so during the 10:50 service the talented Marie Allen sang the song as part of worship.
I couldn’t see Ms. Hortense while Marie was singing, but my friend Danielle could. Danielle’s family has recently started attended church and they have chosen their pew midway back on the right. They sit with my friend Kelli whose family has also started attending…and my friend Laura who started the whole trend. They all sit on the same pew. At least 11 people. It’s a packed pew. But I digress.
Danielle’s commentary on the event was this:
Like total saps, when Marie sang, Ms. Hortense’s friend rubbed her back. The site of her friend’s old arthritic fingers rubbing her back struck Mike and I and we both started to cry.
The whole row of ladies could likely teach the world a thing or two.
I responded:
That’s a beautiful image—the old ladies’ hands…I started to cry at the end of the service when she was standing up front with Patrick.
Seeing a 90-year-old woman of faith, who indeed could teach us a thing or two, stand arm in arm with a pastor one third her age, whom she is allowing to teach her, was quite touching. Hearing her declare, “The Lord has guided me so far and I trust he will continue to guide me in the future,” and hearing him pray a special prayer of blessing over Ms. Hortense’s life brought tears to my eyes…which isn’t good when you’re standing in front of the entire congregation.
Arthritic hands rubbing hunched backs.
The young and old standing arm and arm.
A community of faith celebrating 90 years of life.
For all that the church is not,
For the many things we do wrong,
This is what the church is,
This is what the church does right.
And it’s beautiful.
And it’s good.
And it’s that which is worth packing the pew.
Evidently, Ms. Hortense has deemed the song “Lord Don’t Move That Mountain” as “her” song, so during the 10:50 service the talented Marie Allen sang the song as part of worship.
I couldn’t see Ms. Hortense while Marie was singing, but my friend Danielle could. Danielle’s family has recently started attended church and they have chosen their pew midway back on the right. They sit with my friend Kelli whose family has also started attending…and my friend Laura who started the whole trend. They all sit on the same pew. At least 11 people. It’s a packed pew. But I digress.
Danielle’s commentary on the event was this:
Like total saps, when Marie sang, Ms. Hortense’s friend rubbed her back. The site of her friend’s old arthritic fingers rubbing her back struck Mike and I and we both started to cry.
The whole row of ladies could likely teach the world a thing or two.
I responded:
That’s a beautiful image—the old ladies’ hands…I started to cry at the end of the service when she was standing up front with Patrick.
Seeing a 90-year-old woman of faith, who indeed could teach us a thing or two, stand arm in arm with a pastor one third her age, whom she is allowing to teach her, was quite touching. Hearing her declare, “The Lord has guided me so far and I trust he will continue to guide me in the future,” and hearing him pray a special prayer of blessing over Ms. Hortense’s life brought tears to my eyes…which isn’t good when you’re standing in front of the entire congregation.
Arthritic hands rubbing hunched backs.
The young and old standing arm and arm.
A community of faith celebrating 90 years of life.
For all that the church is not,
For the many things we do wrong,
This is what the church is,
This is what the church does right.
And it’s beautiful.
And it’s good.
And it’s that which is worth packing the pew.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
On Teach-Growing Little People
There are days when
I am filled with
hopeless
helpless
weariness.
Yet it is a
hopeless
helpless
weariness
“Tempered with
Unreasonable optimism.”
It’s exhausting,
crazy-making,
logic-defying.
It’s faith in the
Love
Light (and)
Goodness
That is to come.
I am filled with
hopeless
helpless
weariness.
Yet it is a
hopeless
helpless
weariness
“Tempered with
Unreasonable optimism.”
It’s exhausting,
crazy-making,
logic-defying.
It’s faith in the
Love
Light (and)
Goodness
That is to come.
Monday, February 17, 2014
Bubbly Wisdom
As I scrolled through my Facebook feed last night, I noticed the following post:
I was running water for C's bubble bath. I used all the bubbles. She was upset. I said, “On payday I will buy you some more.” She said, “Ugh...those people need to give you more money. You work all the time and never have enough money.” I said, “What people?” First she said the principal. I told her that the principal doesn't give me money but that the governor does. She said, “He needs to quit wasting money on stuff he doesn't need and give it to all the teachers.” Amazing how a 5-year-old makes such a complicated matter seem so simple. C's theory: "The more work you do, the money you should make."
Being as tired as I was when I read this post, what stuck out to me was not the deep Kindergarten wisdom—which is there and that I will leave you ponder on your own—but the fact that C was out of bubble bath.
Believe it or not, I’ve had bubble bath in my car since Christmas. [Yes. I need to clean out my car.] So when I saw C in the hallway this morning, I said, “Hey! I have something for you.” A few minutes later, I was walking to my car with C, her sister, and two other kids. When we got to my car and I retrieved the box, C said, “What does it say?” Her sister said, “Bubble bath.”
C’s eyes lit up and she said, “I ran out of bubbles last night.”
Almost immediately, the conversation shifted to other things and we all began walking back to the building. As C carried her new treasure, I said, “Do you know what that is?” She said, “No.” I said, “It’s bubble bath.”
C’s eyes lit up again and she said, in amazement, “I ran out of bubbles last night.”
I said, “You did?! Well now you’re not out anymore, so you can take another bubble bath.”
Then the children went to their classrooms and I went to duty and I didn’t think about the bubble bath again until this afternoon…
At which point I smiled as I thought about C’s posture of wonder that bubbles had magically appeared the day after hers ran out.
I was running water for C's bubble bath. I used all the bubbles. She was upset. I said, “On payday I will buy you some more.” She said, “Ugh...those people need to give you more money. You work all the time and never have enough money.” I said, “What people?” First she said the principal. I told her that the principal doesn't give me money but that the governor does. She said, “He needs to quit wasting money on stuff he doesn't need and give it to all the teachers.” Amazing how a 5-year-old makes such a complicated matter seem so simple. C's theory: "The more work you do, the money you should make."
Being as tired as I was when I read this post, what stuck out to me was not the deep Kindergarten wisdom—which is there and that I will leave you ponder on your own—but the fact that C was out of bubble bath.
Believe it or not, I’ve had bubble bath in my car since Christmas. [Yes. I need to clean out my car.] So when I saw C in the hallway this morning, I said, “Hey! I have something for you.” A few minutes later, I was walking to my car with C, her sister, and two other kids. When we got to my car and I retrieved the box, C said, “What does it say?” Her sister said, “Bubble bath.”
C’s eyes lit up and she said, “I ran out of bubbles last night.”
Almost immediately, the conversation shifted to other things and we all began walking back to the building. As C carried her new treasure, I said, “Do you know what that is?” She said, “No.” I said, “It’s bubble bath.”
C’s eyes lit up again and she said, in amazement, “I ran out of bubbles last night.”
I said, “You did?! Well now you’re not out anymore, so you can take another bubble bath.”
Then the children went to their classrooms and I went to duty and I didn’t think about the bubble bath again until this afternoon…
At which point I smiled as I thought about C’s posture of wonder that bubbles had magically appeared the day after hers ran out.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
From Where I Stand
When I woke up this morning and looked outside, I witnessed pine trees stooping from the heavy burden of ice. I saw broken branches lying on the ground and I thought, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. We’re not supposed to be weighed down by our burdens…yet so many of us are…and so many of us are on the verge of breaking, if not already broken…”
I was looking through some poems yesterday so that I could send a few to a friend. In the process of searching my files, I found words that I didn’t remember writing, as well as words that I remembered so vividly that they brought tears to my eyes. I read words of love. I read words of sorrow. I read words of brokenness. I read words of healing. I read words of wilderness. I read words of freedom…
Quite literally, the world is white today. The trees, bushes, windows, and ground are frozen over. Bullet has chosen to tip-toe each time he has gone out. He hasn’t wanted the ice to break lest he sink into the snow…
The world is white. The world is frozen. The trees are burdened. And yet…“From where I stand, the world exists in color.” From where I stand, there is promise that the ice will melt in the heat of Love’s warmth and freedom to thrive will come again.
From Where I Stand
12/16/06
From where I stand,
the world exists in color.
Black is the presence of everything
while white is the absence of all,
yet in between are the
reds and yellows and oranges and purples
and greens and blues and browns
that shade surroundings,
adding light and vitality to life.
From where I stand,
a monochromatic world is miserable existence.
Refusing to acknowledge differences is detrimental
and trying to assimilate hues into uniformity is tragic,
because in between are the
combinations and blends and complements and contrasts
and statements and swirls and lines
that weave together experience,
adding richness and beauty to life.
From where I stand,
individuals exist in this world only within the context of color.
Skin, race, nationality, sexuality, and monetary value matter little,
while the unique creation of a Creator masterful enough to
dream of living colors
working together
to paint a picture of Love
is the whole of existence,
for in that embrace of creation is the
birth of the Hope of Peace and
the purpose of life.
**“From Where I Stand” is one of the poems that I don’t remember writing. I’m grateful that I found it yesterday.**
I was looking through some poems yesterday so that I could send a few to a friend. In the process of searching my files, I found words that I didn’t remember writing, as well as words that I remembered so vividly that they brought tears to my eyes. I read words of love. I read words of sorrow. I read words of brokenness. I read words of healing. I read words of wilderness. I read words of freedom…
Quite literally, the world is white today. The trees, bushes, windows, and ground are frozen over. Bullet has chosen to tip-toe each time he has gone out. He hasn’t wanted the ice to break lest he sink into the snow…
The world is white. The world is frozen. The trees are burdened. And yet…“From where I stand, the world exists in color.” From where I stand, there is promise that the ice will melt in the heat of Love’s warmth and freedom to thrive will come again.
From Where I Stand
12/16/06
From where I stand,
the world exists in color.
Black is the presence of everything
while white is the absence of all,
yet in between are the
reds and yellows and oranges and purples
and greens and blues and browns
that shade surroundings,
adding light and vitality to life.
From where I stand,
a monochromatic world is miserable existence.
Refusing to acknowledge differences is detrimental
and trying to assimilate hues into uniformity is tragic,
because in between are the
combinations and blends and complements and contrasts
and statements and swirls and lines
that weave together experience,
adding richness and beauty to life.
From where I stand,
individuals exist in this world only within the context of color.
Skin, race, nationality, sexuality, and monetary value matter little,
while the unique creation of a Creator masterful enough to
dream of living colors
working together
to paint a picture of Love
is the whole of existence,
for in that embrace of creation is the
birth of the Hope of Peace and
the purpose of life.
**“From Where I Stand” is one of the poems that I don’t remember writing. I’m grateful that I found it yesterday.**
Monday, February 10, 2014
Where I Am Now
I had dinner with a dear friend tonight. He was in my youth group when I was a youth minister many years ago. As we talked and shared life stories, I began to reflect on where life has taken me in the past seven years and where I am now. Here is my report:
June 2007: Pack up my music classrooms at Gentry and Erwin and say goodbye to 8 years of teaching.
August 2007: Begin full-time classes in divinity school.
Fall 2007: Begin working with the choir at Antioch Baptist Church to prepare their Christmas cantata.
January 2008: Begin working with the entire music ministry at Antioch for my supervised ministry class.
May 2008: Finish my supervised ministry class.
June 2008: Begin work as worship leader at camp.
August 2008: Return to classes in divinity school and officially accept the position as interim music minister at Antioch.
May 2009: Graduate from divinity school.
October 2009: Leave everything in NC and begin working with SC WMU in Columbia.
August 2012: Work at the peak of my career with SC WMU.
September 2012: Abruptly leave from SC WMU to return to NC for ……..???
January 2013: Begin chaplaincy internship at Wake Med in Raleigh.
May 2013: Graduate from chaplaincy residency and ……….???
August 2013: Interview for and accept the music teacher position at Johnsonville Elementary School.
February 2014: Agree to return to the interim music ministry position at Antioch until ………???
And now my reflection:
I don’t know how I am successfully going to enter into this new, old venture.
Teaching full-time and working as part-time music minister adds up to more than one.
But what I know is this--
I haven’t known a lot of things over the past few years, but I’ve made it through.
One step at a time, sometimes backwards,
I have made it to where I am today and
I will make it to where I am tomorrow and in all the days to come.
Christ beside me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ within me.
Christ around you, too.
Amen.
June 2007: Pack up my music classrooms at Gentry and Erwin and say goodbye to 8 years of teaching.
August 2007: Begin full-time classes in divinity school.
Fall 2007: Begin working with the choir at Antioch Baptist Church to prepare their Christmas cantata.
January 2008: Begin working with the entire music ministry at Antioch for my supervised ministry class.
May 2008: Finish my supervised ministry class.
June 2008: Begin work as worship leader at camp.
August 2008: Return to classes in divinity school and officially accept the position as interim music minister at Antioch.
May 2009: Graduate from divinity school.
October 2009: Leave everything in NC and begin working with SC WMU in Columbia.
August 2012: Work at the peak of my career with SC WMU.
September 2012: Abruptly leave from SC WMU to return to NC for ……..???
January 2013: Begin chaplaincy internship at Wake Med in Raleigh.
May 2013: Graduate from chaplaincy residency and ……….???
August 2013: Interview for and accept the music teacher position at Johnsonville Elementary School.
February 2014: Agree to return to the interim music ministry position at Antioch until ………???
And now my reflection:
I don’t know how I am successfully going to enter into this new, old venture.
Teaching full-time and working as part-time music minister adds up to more than one.
But what I know is this--
I haven’t known a lot of things over the past few years, but I’ve made it through.
One step at a time, sometimes backwards,
I have made it to where I am today and
I will make it to where I am tomorrow and in all the days to come.
Christ beside me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ within me.
Christ around you, too.
Amen.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Love Heals A Frozen Heart
Monday’s word of the day was ruminate. Ruminate is a verb that means: 1) to go over in the mind repeatedly and often casually or slowly or 2) to chew repeatedly for an extended period. I have been ruminating the movie Frozen ever since seeing it Sunday.
I don’t want to spoil the movie for those of you who haven’t seen it, so I’ll just say this: Sometimes we declare our truths before we’re able fully to embrace them.
Now…I have a feeling that I may be the only person in the world who has written this statement in response to this film, but I’ve spent a lot of time ruminating why Frozen didn’t immediately become my all-time favorite Disney movie and the above statement is why.
Case in point, I started learning a new life-vocabulary at the beginning of March 2007. This vocabulary eventually helped me reframe everything I’d ever known and literally changed my life and worldview.
On March 28, 2007, I wrote my own personal “power ballad” – my own statement of who I am regardless of who the world wants me to be.
Do I believe the words of this song? Absolutely.
But had I fully arrived at living its words? No.
In fact, there are still days when I have trouble living them.
Yet I know they needed to be said when they were said—
Truths declared before I was able fully to embrace them—
Because I know, now, that simply speaking these truths released them into being
And ultimately allowed Love to heal a frozen heart.
Whole
3/28/07
A cloud of yellow comes and settles on my soul
Replacing sheets of white—cold
Nature has been waiting for this yellow on my soul
Agonizing in the pains of death
Tender, warm, new buds they bloom and yellow floods my soul
Bitter, stale the old passes away
My throat is scratchy from the yellow on my soul
My words are hoarse from the dark night
But listen now: this is my voice
It’s bursting into life
Singing with the colors of our God…
Three short months extended into countless draining years
Deceiving lies leading astray
Destructive screaming from this world created chaos here
Whispers of the truth could not be heard
But listen now: this is my voice
This is who I am
Created in the image of our God
Loved not for the things I do
But loved for who I am
And who I am learning to be
I’m not perfect—I will fail
But I believe in God’s grace
I am gifted and unique
I am worthy of God’s grace
I’m authentic—I’m okay
And I stand upon God’s grace
I’m on a journey—not alone
I’m a member of God’s grace
So listen now: this is my voice
This is who I am
Created in the image of our God
Loved not for the things I do
But loved for who I am
And who I am learning to be
Yes, listen now: this is my voice
It’s bursting into life
Singing with the colors of our God…
A cloud of yellow comes and settles on my soul
Replacing broken sheets—whole…
I don’t want to spoil the movie for those of you who haven’t seen it, so I’ll just say this: Sometimes we declare our truths before we’re able fully to embrace them.
Now…I have a feeling that I may be the only person in the world who has written this statement in response to this film, but I’ve spent a lot of time ruminating why Frozen didn’t immediately become my all-time favorite Disney movie and the above statement is why.
Case in point, I started learning a new life-vocabulary at the beginning of March 2007. This vocabulary eventually helped me reframe everything I’d ever known and literally changed my life and worldview.
On March 28, 2007, I wrote my own personal “power ballad” – my own statement of who I am regardless of who the world wants me to be.
Do I believe the words of this song? Absolutely.
But had I fully arrived at living its words? No.
In fact, there are still days when I have trouble living them.
Yet I know they needed to be said when they were said—
Truths declared before I was able fully to embrace them—
Because I know, now, that simply speaking these truths released them into being
And ultimately allowed Love to heal a frozen heart.
Whole
3/28/07
A cloud of yellow comes and settles on my soul
Replacing sheets of white—cold
Nature has been waiting for this yellow on my soul
Agonizing in the pains of death
Tender, warm, new buds they bloom and yellow floods my soul
Bitter, stale the old passes away
My throat is scratchy from the yellow on my soul
My words are hoarse from the dark night
But listen now: this is my voice
It’s bursting into life
Singing with the colors of our God…
Three short months extended into countless draining years
Deceiving lies leading astray
Destructive screaming from this world created chaos here
Whispers of the truth could not be heard
But listen now: this is my voice
This is who I am
Created in the image of our God
Loved not for the things I do
But loved for who I am
And who I am learning to be
I’m not perfect—I will fail
But I believe in God’s grace
I am gifted and unique
I am worthy of God’s grace
I’m authentic—I’m okay
And I stand upon God’s grace
I’m on a journey—not alone
I’m a member of God’s grace
So listen now: this is my voice
This is who I am
Created in the image of our God
Loved not for the things I do
But loved for who I am
And who I am learning to be
Yes, listen now: this is my voice
It’s bursting into life
Singing with the colors of our God…
A cloud of yellow comes and settles on my soul
Replacing broken sheets—whole…
Monday, February 3, 2014
Empty Stomach, Full Heart
“Amelia, baby, have you eaten your food?” asks Dana.
Amelia responds through a sheepish grin, “Yyyyyeeeess. I’ve aten some of it.”
Then Amelia goes back to talking with her brother and cousins while the adults smile at one another, knowing good and well that Amelia has barely eaten anything.
“That didn’t sound guilty at all,” chuckled my brother.
“Oh, I know :-).” Dana said. “I figured she wouldn’t eat much. She never does when she’s around the cousins. I thought about barely giving her any food. I guess that’s what I should have done.”
Such was the conversation around my parent’s 50th Anniversary dinner table on Saturday night. And for some reason, my first thought upon hearing this exchange was, “Maybe this is what Jesus meant when he said he was the bread of life.”
Whenever the kids are together, they tend to be so joyous that they don’t really need food—especially Griffin and Amelia. If there’s food for them to graze, then they’ll fill up on that because they can grab it as they pass by in their play. But when it comes time to sit down for a meal, they usually have so much fun laughing, talking, and just being together that food becomes a secondary need.
I wonder if Jesus meant that that’s what fellowship with him is like. I wonder if Jesus knew that spending time and hanging out with him could fill a person with so much contentment, happiness, and joy that things like desire for food and drink move to the background. I wonder if Jesus was saying that when we come together in his spirit of love and giving that we will never want for anything again…
Maybe not.
But maybe so.
And maybe our meals should always be followed by singing and instrument playing…which is exactly what happened on Saturday night…while a joyous empty-stomached-but-full-hearted-Amelia danced.
Amelia responds through a sheepish grin, “Yyyyyeeeess. I’ve aten some of it.”
Then Amelia goes back to talking with her brother and cousins while the adults smile at one another, knowing good and well that Amelia has barely eaten anything.
“That didn’t sound guilty at all,” chuckled my brother.
“Oh, I know :-).” Dana said. “I figured she wouldn’t eat much. She never does when she’s around the cousins. I thought about barely giving her any food. I guess that’s what I should have done.”
Such was the conversation around my parent’s 50th Anniversary dinner table on Saturday night. And for some reason, my first thought upon hearing this exchange was, “Maybe this is what Jesus meant when he said he was the bread of life.”
Whenever the kids are together, they tend to be so joyous that they don’t really need food—especially Griffin and Amelia. If there’s food for them to graze, then they’ll fill up on that because they can grab it as they pass by in their play. But when it comes time to sit down for a meal, they usually have so much fun laughing, talking, and just being together that food becomes a secondary need.
I wonder if Jesus meant that that’s what fellowship with him is like. I wonder if Jesus knew that spending time and hanging out with him could fill a person with so much contentment, happiness, and joy that things like desire for food and drink move to the background. I wonder if Jesus was saying that when we come together in his spirit of love and giving that we will never want for anything again…
Maybe not.
But maybe so.
And maybe our meals should always be followed by singing and instrument playing…which is exactly what happened on Saturday night…while a joyous empty-stomached-but-full-hearted-Amelia danced.
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