Discouraged

 

“I’m feeling discouraged and overwhelmed,” she said. 

“There is so much I need to do, 

But by the time I get home,

I’ve used up all my energy and reserves

And there’s nothing left to give.

I know what I need to do. 

I can see the steps that I need to take. 

But I just can’t make myself take them 

Because I’m too tired and spent”

 

I listened. 

 

And I understood. 

 

And I imagine that many of you do as well. 

 

I’ve always liked pass/fail grading. 

For me, it puts the emphasis on learning rather than trying to perform for a grade and be the best. 

I had never thought about giving my day a pass/fail grade until recently. 

I read about the idea in my Hope book. 

Instead of judging my performance on how well I do something each day, 

I should judge myself on whether or not I even do something for the day. 

 

This is especially true for large projects

that overwhelm,

Discourage, 

And feel like dementors sucking life from your soul. 

It doesn’t matter how well you do these projects,

If you complete them in one sitting or

If you leave the tasks open. 

What matters is that you have done them at all.

What matters is that you have chipped away at the project in any way. 

What matters is that you have been consistent,

Not perfect.

 

Let me say that again:

What matters is that you have been consistent, 

Not perfect. 

 

For this perfectionist who thrives on project completion, 

This Pass/fail grading of consistency is good news. 

 

Maybe it’s good news for you as well. 

Scapepigs

 

If you have talked to me about religious stuff in the last month,

Then you have most likely heard my struggles with the pig sermon from

this past Sunday. 

I know that the point of the pig story is not supposed to be the pigs,

But I got hung up on the pigs and I couldn’t get past them.

$350,000 worth of pigs is a lot to lose!

2000 dead pig carcasses is a lot to clean up! 

People’s lives were drastically changed that day, 

All because Jesus let the demons go into the pigs before the pigs went into the abyss.

 

Was Jesus taken aback by the pig’s stampede? 

Did he feel bad for causing so many animals to perish? 

Were the pigs’ death an unintentional consequence of Jesus’s actions?

Could Jesus have done something different to not cause such an economic and environmental impact?

 

I want to believe that Jesus felt bad.

I want to believe that Jesus left Geresenes because he knew that the people were upset and could not hear anymore from him at the moment.  

I want to believe that he felt remorse.

Because if he didn’t,

If he just shrugged off 2000 pigs’ deaths because pigs were considered unclean in Jewish law, 

Then that raises a bigger question about the goodness of all of God‘s creation and how we should treat it. 

It raises an even bigger question about the goodness of God.

 

Don’t get me wrong.

I know that the healing of the Geresenes man was important. 

I know that it broke boundaries and demonstrated God’s power over evil. 

I just can’t help but think of,

More so than in so many other stories,

The consequences of Jesus’s actions to 

Disproportionately affect innocent lives. 

 

Every action has a reaction. 

And sometimes, 

Even our best intentions,

End up going awry. 

 

Oh God, 

Help us to make decisions that will negatively affect the least number of people possible. 

And when we do hurt others,

Intentionally or not,

Help us to know when to walk away and let time heal the hurt

Or when to stay and help pick up the pieces. 

 

Amen. 

The Backwaters

 

I went to the backwaters on Friday. 

Heidi The Librarian’s sister, Heather, had chartered us a private boat out of Swansboro 

And the Captain took us out through the backwaters to the back of Bear Island. 

 

I have no idea how he knew where he was going. 

Probably Boat GPS or something fancy. 

But he zoomed around sandbars and sea grasses with such ease, 

Except at one point, the water became too shallow for passage, 

Yet even then, 

The captain simply got out of the boat and gently pushed it rather than using his motors.

 

When we got to the island, we were the only ones there.

The shells were untouched. 

The sand was unmarked. 

There were no Shibumis flapping. 

And there were no families claiming their little piece of beach for the day. 

 

Other than the areas marked as bird nesting areas,

We could freely walk and freely pick up whatever shells we wanted. 

And we could ride on the lazy river, 

A natural current created from the convergence of the ocean waters and the back waters.

 

We put on our lifejackets,

Turned on our backs,

And floated.

We were not worried about the ocean carrying us away. 

We were not worried about the water becoming too deep that we could not touch. 

We were simply floating under the blue, slightly cloudy sky, 

Completely present in those moments, 

Not worrying about the thing in the world. 

 

One of my favorite things to do is to float. 

I can’t float without a flotation device, 

But with a lifejacket or pool noodle,

I can float happily for a very long time.

It’s hard to float in the ocean anymore

Because the waves are so rough and the undercurrent is so dangerous,

Not to mention sharks and stingrays and jellyfish and who knows what other sea creatures lurk near.

So to be able to float—

To be able to be in living water and not worry about being swept under and dying

Was one of the neatest things I’ve done in a long time,

If not ever.

 

As we zoomed through the backwaters

And I felt the breeze blow through my hair, 

I reflected on our time on Bear Island, 

And simply smiled.

I smiled and thought, “I am fully present in this moment, and 

I am happy.

Thanks be to God for this moment

And this indescribable gift. 

 

Amen. 

 

Super Serious But Profoundly Hopeful Dee

 

As I was preparing for Sunday’s sermon,

I had a memory of a song that I wrote in the seventh grade.

Middle school.

Age 12 or 13.

 

When I looked back at the song and its companions,

A couple of things became very clear:

1)  I once thought that songs and poems had to rhyme.

2)  I was very dramatic.

3)  Not much has changed in 35 years.

 

7th Grade Serious Dee,

In all her limited yet somehow profound wisdom,  

Penned the following words:

 

Times are very rough—

Nothing seems to go right,

There are wars breaking out,

Every day and night.

The drugs now are bad

And the criminals are mean,

The people with no homes

Are cluttering up our streets.

 

Well in Africa and Spain,

The US and Brazil,

There are people starving—

Many very ill.

And it seems that no one cares

About anyone else,

And the very few that do

Can’t do much to help.

 

If you take a look around you,

You see many hardships

Everyone’s doing something bad,

Just to make others mad;

They talk about them behind their backs

And tell little lies,

Just because of jealousy,

They’re ruining others’ lives.

 

Oh have hope, hope

You gotta have hope

And maybe someday,

Everything will be okay.

Oh have hope, oh hope

You gotta have hope

‘Cause if you have hope you will see

Everything will turn out better.

 

Almost 48-year-old Serious Dee

Would like to add:

Hope is the holy courage to believe in a better future because God is still at work. 

 

Have hope, friends. 

In these dark, tumultuous times. 

God is still in the business of creating that which is good 

And God is inviting us to join in the work of

Hope in action. 

 

Amen. 

DMV Hyperfocus

 

I’m not sure why I did this,

But I volunteered to teach four different sessions at my county’s professional development this summer. 

 

I’ve taught a version of three of the four sessions before,

And I know that I am knowledgeable about the subject matter of the fourth session,

But I still feel a bit overwhelmed by and uncertain about how to prepare the presentations for July. 

 

Because of this reality,

I feel a looming sense of responsibility to work

Even though I have the motivation of a slug in the summertime.

 

As is my norm,

I feel anxious and restless and unsettled 

Because I have projects that I don’t know how to complete hanging over my head. 

The task oriented part of me is ready for the slideshows and handouts and session plans to be complete

But the process part of me is still processing information and feeling out my understanding of the crowd.

 

So when a friend asked me to help her family get appointments at the DMV office,

I jumped.

This was something I could do!

This was something that I could complete!

This was something that didn’t take emotional or mental energy!

This was something I could accomplish!

 

And I did.

 

I diligently and somewhat obsessively refreshed the DMV scheduling website for hours and pounced on opportunities when they arose. 

I was so proud of myself for the work that I did

That I literally cheered when I secured one of the appointments!

 

Will these appointments help me at all with my presentations this summer?

Absolutely not! :-)

But the thrill of the chase 

And the adrenaline of trying to get the appointments before someone else got them

Gave me a sense of motivation that temporarily made me feel better about my slug self.

 

We humans are weird creatures.

We do strange things in the face of stress

And in the name of feeling accomplished.

 

What is something weird you’ve done recently? 

 

What is something strange you’ve done when feeling overwhelmed? 

 

Please share.  I’d love to hear. 

Put The Past In Front Of You

 

Put the past in front of you.

Extend your arms and

Look at it,

Because the past is complete,

It is known.

It is clear.

It can be glimpsed.

 

Put the future behind you.

Let it come to you.

Do not try to see it.

It is not known.

It is hidden.

It is unclear.

It cannot be seen.

 

The past cannot be ignored.

The future cannot be rushed.

 

Echoes of the past are

Embedded in the future.

 

We must learn.

We must not forget.

 

The past is in front of you.

The future is behind.

 

Thank you, Aymara people, in Bolivia, Peru, and northern Chile

For this reframe of popular American culture and belief.

 

Oh God:

Help us to know it’s okay to look at the past in front of our faces.

Help us to know it’s okay to sit with the mess of hardship and grief when they are here.

Help us to remember it’s okay to grieve.

Help us to remember it’s okay to lament.

Help us to hold to hope—

To connection—

To the joy and struggle—

To the belief of a beautiful future…

 

Amen.

 

--adapted from Hope: A User’s Manual by Maryann McKibben Dana, pps. 14-17