I Want My Mommy To Cry When I Leave Her

 

We have a kindergartener who cries loudly every morning when she gets out of the car. 

 

She is very vocal about what she’s thinking and feeling, and I must admit that it makes me smile. 

 

She has walked by crying,

“I want my mommy and Nonna.”

“My stomach hurt hurts.”

“My tummy feels nervous.”

“I want to see my teacher.”

“I just want my mommy to cry when I leave her.”

 

Why does this student’s angst make me smile?

 

Because she, in her five year-old wisdom, is working through her anxiety and grief.

 

She is putting words to what her body is feeling and what her brain is processing and she is letting out her emotions in a raw way. 

 

She is doing what we as adults have been conditioned not to do, yet I have to wonder if we would be healthier individuals if we were able to express our anxiety and grief as this Kindergartner expresses hers.

 

No, we can’t walk around wailing. Although, to be honest, there are times when I feel like  walking around wailing. When I open FB and read about another school shooting. When I consider that no space is safe anymore. When I lament the state of mental health and lack of gun safety and disconnection

from real people in our country. I feel like walking down the sidewalk with someone holding my hand as I wail. But like I said, we can’t do that often. 

 

But we can name what we are missing.

 

We can notice our bodies and where we feel nervous and then we can turn some compassion toward that place. 

 

We can desire the safe spaces that we have created.

 

And we can admit when we want other people to just feel our pain. We don’t always need people to fix things. Sometimes we just need to know that we’re not alone in our feelings and that we’re not the only ones suffering in this life.

 

So may we do those things. 

 

May we name and notice and desire and admit that we carry anxiety and grief and that it makes us feel sick and that we need safe spaces and to know we’re not alone. 

 

May we normalize mental health struggles and walk beside one another as we navigate our way through. 

 

For we are all on this journey together. 

Even the Kindergartners. 

And together, we can make it through. 

 

Amen. 

 

I Am Not Scientific

 

Well, folks. 

I’ve successfully completed one full week of nighttime classes in my doctoral program 

While teaching during the day. 

The week was a fumbling week of me trying to figure out a new rhythm to life. 

I have not gotten the rhythm yet! 

I stayed up working too late every night

Because I kept finding assignments I didn’t know existed. 

 

You see, online courses are evidently different than in-person courses. 

With in-person courses, you do the work on the syllabus and you show up to class every week.

The due dates are clear and everything is laid out. 

With online classes, it’s not just the syllabus that you need to keep up with, but it’s a whole module of stuff you’re supposed to do during the week.

In fact, the syllabus only includes the bare minimum of what’s needed for success. 

There are teaching videos and discussion boards and supplemental readings to complete. 

I did not know this!

I found out when I accidentally stumbled across a discussion board. 

I immediately wrote a classmate and he filled me on how things were run with an online class. 

I was very grateful. 

 

There is a high pass, a pass, a low pass, and a fail to our grades.

I’ve always been a high pass girl, 

But I’d like to believe that I will be OK with any form of pass as long as I’m doing work that I am proud of.

 

I am not the smartest person in this doctoral cohort. 

There are people much more scholarly and scientific than me and I am already seeing that on the group discussion boards.

I am me.

Not very scientific.

Full of faith and music. 

Not numbers driven.

Believing in the good of humanity.

Operating on the idea that leadership is

Encouraging, equipping, and empowering persons to do the their best, most authentic, life-giving work for the good of common humanity 

But realizing that some people use their leadership skills for the good of themselves or to hurt other people. 

 

Who I am now is not who I will be in three years.

And that’s OK.

Because who I am now will influence who I am tomorrow and tomorrow will influence the next and the next and the next until

I find a new rhythm and become…

 

Who knows who or what I’m becoming?!

 

But whoever or whatever it is 

Will be in community. 

I’ve already experienced that this week with class friend saving me. 

And for that, again, I am grateful. 

 

Amen. 

You Belong Here (At UNC)

I expected to leave my first two classes feeling overwhelmed. 

Instead, I left feeling encouraged. 

 

One professor said:

 

“You belong here. 

You’re not here by chance. 

You can succeed. 

Very smart people looked at your application and saw you at the finish line. It’s not going to be easy. 

But you can do this. 

We want to challenge you. 

We don’t want to frustrate you.”

 

The other professor said:

 

“Right now, we’re in the space of the not knowing.

In three years, we’ll be in the knowing.

The time in between is in the learning.”

 

As someone who thrives on words of affirmation, 

I heard their words and took them to heart. 

They were exactly what I needed and they let me know that, 

Yes, this is going to be hard, but

Yes, I can do it. 

 

I’m teaching a small group study on the five love languages for three Sunday nights.

Last Sunday, we learned about the five love languages. 

This Sunday, we are going to learned about how Jesus lives out the languages in his life. 

And he did. 

He spoke words of affirmation. 

He spent quality time. 

He gave gifts. 

He performed acts of service.

And he offered physical touch. 

 

Therefore, when we do any of these,

We are following the example of Love himself. 

 

I don’t know the religious persuasion of my professors. 

I have no idea if they feel a call to live love. 

Yet for me, this week,

Their words of affirmation,

Though general they may have been, 

Were a little piece of love that I needed to hear. 

 

And for that, 

I am grateful. 

(Especially now that I’ve started my homework and my brain already hurts from quantitative analysis!)

 

Amen. 

Belizean Moments

 

We had no air conditioning at church yesterday,

But we had open windows and open hearts

And fans made the service bearable. 

Honestly, I felt like I was in Belize,

And that made me happy. 

 

When I was in Belize, 

I was fully present and fully alive. 

I wasn’t wishing that I were somewhere else,

And I wasn’t wondering what the significance of my life was.

I was just there, 

Cooking in the kitchen, or

Painting with brush strokes up and down, or

Talking with friends, or

Sitting outside and taking it all in. 

 

I guess it was being away that made it easy. 

I guess it was the thin line between God and humanity as humanity lived out of the body of Christ that provided a wonderfully abnormal experience. 

 

Because normal, at least in America, is always striving for something more.

Normal is always looking ahead to the future and wondering what’s next. 

Normal is not being content with what we have and needing some product or activity to provide us with happiness.

Normal is worrying that we do not have enough.

Normal is wondering if our life matters. 

 

We live in an anxious society.

It’s hard not to absorb the energy of

Fear, worry, restlessness, and doubt. 

It’s hard to be content. 

It’s hard to be fully present and fully alive. 

But it’s possible,

Just like church without air conditioning is possible, 

As long as we keep open windows and open hearts 

And allow the fan of the Holy Spirit to blow upon us 

Grace upon Grace upon Grace. 

 

May you experience Belizean moments this week.

May the line between you and God be so thin that you feel God‘s presence in a real and mighty way. 

As you move in and out of moments that belong to this world and moments that belong to God,

May you find a rhythm of grace and may you know,

Beyond any shadow of doubt, 

That you are loved and that your life does matter. 

 

Amen. 

Keep Going

 

Scripture is funny.   

What jumps out to one person may be completely overlooked by another and vice versa. 

While preparing for last Sunday’s sermon, 

Pastor Ann was immediately drawn to the words “do not be afraid.”

I, on the other hand, completely missed that phrase and was drawing in by the words  

“Provide for yourself purses that will not wear out.”

I thought about sustainability vs disposability, 

I thought of Hermione’s bag in Harry Potter, 

I thought of putting time and effort into things that last,

And I thought of Goonies. 

So I wrote my sermon around all of those things…

And I prayed that the sermon would speak to someone.

 

That someone was me. 

 

In the middle of delivering the message that God had lain on my heart, 

I found myself speaking directly to myself. 

My voice caught a little and tears starting forming in my eyes: 

 

“For most of Goonies,

They think the treasure is just gold.

But by the end of the story,

They realize the real treasure is their journey,

Their courage,

And the bond they share.

Mikey, the unlikely leader,

Says it best when he insists they keep going when they want to quit—

Not just for the gold, but for something bigger, something true.

 

Jesus tells us the same thing:

Keep going,

But not for something bigger,

Rather for something true.

If your treasure is stored in popularity, your heart will be anxious.
If it’s stored in money, your heart will be calculating.
If it’s stored in possessions, your heart will be comparing.
But if it’s stored in purpose,

in people,

in God’s kingdom—

your heart will be full, even in the face of fear.

 

Your heart follows whatever you’re carrying.
So pack wisely.

Because just like the Goonies,

We’re on a journey filled with challenges and choices

And the treasure we chase will shape who we become.”

 

I confess:

I’ve been focusing on the treasures of this world—

On money and respect—

And I have been anxious and frustrated by the lack thereof. 

I have considered giving up. 

I have considered quitting. 

But Jesus tells me to keep going,

Not for something bigger,

Rather for something true.

For transformed lives, 

For safety, 

For freedom, 

For love. 

 

Jesus tells you to keep going too. 

 

So may we, together, be a people who are able to keep going, 

Despite the odds, 

Whose lives make a difference, 

And whose purses last. 

 

Amen.

I Believe In You

 

I’m thankful to have a niece who is interested in musical theater.
I don’t know that I’m one day going to be able to take her to Europe, like my aunt has taken me,
But I can take her to see shows,
And I don’t take that privilege for granted.

On Saturday night, I had the opportunity to take Amelia to see one of my favorite shows, Waitress.
While the show didn’t make it to the top five of Amelia’s list,
It was still an incredible show with a fantastic cast.

I suppose this sounds silly, but one of my marks for a good show is if it makes me cry.
Sure enough, toward the end of the show, I had tears streaming down my face.

Joe, the curmudgeon who owned the diner at the center of the story,
Asked Jenna, the main character, for a dance.
As they danced, Joe told Jenna:

“…And though I don't believe in silver linings
I believe that there's something in you
I believe in you
Something good is tryin' to break through
Through
You might have to fight the good fight
And when you think you can't
You can
Take it from an old man.”

As a new school year begins,
I am more mindful than ever that there are a lot of Jenna’s in my classroom.
There are a lot of very creative students stuck in abusive homes,
Scared, lovely, searching for safety and compassion, longing for love.
They will do stupid things and make mistakes, yes,
But I want to be Joe.
Not a curmudgeon,
But someone who sees beyond circumstances and whose belief in my students somehow transforms their lives.

Oh God.
In a world that tries to beat us down by
telling us we can cannot do,
Help us to do what we can to build others up.
Whether it be a trip, a show, a dance, or a word,
Help us to give to others in ways that transform lives.

Amen.

Keep Going. One Post At A Time

 

For almost fifteen years now, I’ve been writing and posting Facebook notes every Monday and Thursday. 

I’ve written through joys and sorrows,

Big plans and shattered dreams, 

Full-time ministry and teaching, and 

Abundance of words and scarcity of thought. 

 

It’s taken time. 

It’s taken effort. 

It’s taken discipline not to quit. 

But to be honest, 

As I’m gearing up to greet students next Wednesday and to start a doctoral program on the 18th, 

Quitting has been on my mind quite a bit. 

 

I’m going to be teaching full-time and taking classes every Monday and Tuesday night, 

Balancing homework, church, and home life in between. 

When will I have time to write? 

When will I have time to do anything?!

And what is there to say that I haven’t already said? 

Sometimes, I sound like a broken record. 

 

But then I think of common humanity. 

I think of how much people are struggling. 

I think of how deeply people are hurting. 

I think of the need to see God in the midst of darkness. 

I think of the need to find joy, hope, and goodness in a very broken world. 

And I think:

I can do that. 

 

No. It won’t be easy. 

And there will be days when I am just sad, bummed, overwhelmed, or angry. 

But that’s part of common humanity too—

Knowing we’re not alone—

And that’s worth the will to keep trying. 

 

Yesterday, my blackout poem said 

“The black hole tells you lies.”

The black hole of the unknown has been 

Telling me to quit. 

 

The black hole lies. 

 

This discipline will continue for now. 

 

One word, 

One shared experience, 

One post at a time. 

 

Amen.