I learned something today: Minneapolis, NC, is also known as Dog Run. This makes sense…because there are a lot of dogs roaming free up here—yet they’re all very friendly and the way the kids respond to them makes me even more passionate about figuring out a way to get a therapy dog to school.
For those of you who don’t know, I have been leading worship for First Baptist Aberdeen’s children’s camp for the past nine years. A mutual friend from divinity school introduced the children’s minister and me and the partnership that was formed between us has been wonderful. The camp is held at Candlestick Retreat Center in Minneapolis, NC, and each year is like a one week family reunion with the chaperones and kids that I’ve grown to love. I’ve even watched some of the kids grow up to be on the staff and crew.
It’s interesting to see how each year’s group is different. Last year’s group was very into relationships and the girls spent a lot of time primping. This year’s group is very into being kids—running around and playing—going head over heels over the dogs and rabbits and any other animal they see. Personally, I have enjoyed this year’s group better.
Since the kids have expressed such a deep interest in animals, I decided to share an animal story with them at campfire worship tonight. I’ve been reading a series of books that contain stories of unlikely animal interactions. In one of the books, Unlikely Heroes, there is a story about a llama named Little Man who put himself between a herd of sheep and the fire that was consuming their barn in an effort to save them. Because of the injuries he sustained, Little Man soon died. He sacrificed his life to save thirty others.
Naturally, I made a connection between Little Man’s sacrifice and Jesus, so I did something I don’t normally do and focused tonight’s message on Jesus’s sacrifice for us—to save us—not just from hell—but from the chains of every day darkness and fear.
Here’s what super cool, though. Today’s Bible study was on kindness. I had a scripture passage about kindness in mind to share early in the tonight’s worship service, but I couldn’t find it. So I looked in the concordance. After looking in the concordance, I was led to a passage that I’d never fully paid attention to…and it was perfect for tonight…because tonight was not only the story of Jesus’ sacrifice for us but also the wrap-up of a week about being available (using our gifts for God), dependable (being someone that others can count on), honorable (living a righteous life), and kind, and in so doing living lives of spiritual acts of worship:
And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this was not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared for us to do.
I love Candlestick. I love how every year is something different yet wonderfully the same. God is here. In the old school building that houses the retreat center. In the river that runs by it. In the laughter and wisdom of children. In the steady presence and love of the adults. In the Bible studies and in worship. And in how God never fails to show me the exact songs and words that need to be shared.
I am always sad when Candlestick ends, but I always rejoice in the beauty of the week. This week has been good. And God’s kindness through Christ has been shown. And we are God’s handiwork surrounded by God’s glory. Thanks to be God. Amen.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Monday, July 27, 2015
Serve. Love. Live.
I was talking to a friend about the bible the other day when I asked what one of her favorite passages of scripture was. She said the book of James. I said nothing. But I thought about the conversation a lot after that.
I don’t know about whole books, but I know that my favorite chapters of scripture are Psalm 13, Psalm 139, Isaiah 55, and Romans 12 (I actually just spoke about this chapter on the first night of worship at Candlestick 2015—a children’s camp in the mountains with Aberdeen First Baptist). I also know that some of my favorite passages are these:
From John Chapter 15. Jesus says: My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command…Love each other.
From 1 John Chapter 4: There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear…
From Philippians 2: Let this same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in human likeness, and being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross.
Put these three together and they profoundly influence my view of service, love, and life. Here’s how I figure it:
God’s love, shown most fully through the person of Jesus Christ—the Christ who loves us and calls us friend—is a sacrificial, humble love that seeks to serve and sacrifice on behalf of others. This is how God loves us and it should be how we love one another.
Just as Christ knew who he was and lived out of the fullness of his being, each of us should strive to know who we are so that we can live as most fully ourselves. In being ourselves, we are able to love one another by living selfless, sacrificial lives for those around us—wanting the best for each other—encouraging each other—sharpening and complementing each other—speaking each other’s love languages—and loving each other by laying down our lives for one another in service and in prayer. After all, greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends…and this doesn’t mean that we must physically die…rather, we can, every day, literally lay down our lives for one another in prayer.
My nephew currently loves rollers coasters. In fact, if he had to choose right now, then he would be a roller coaster designer for a career. Life is like a roller coaster. It moves. It changes. It twists and turns. Some days and experiences are joyful, others are sad. Some are easy, others are challenging. Some days we get things right, other days we get them miserably wrong.
But through it all—
through all the ups and downs—
love should be our guide—because in love, there is no fear.
Fear paralyzes.
Fear rears its ugly head and causes us to make more selfishly, desperate decisions than any of us ever want to make.
But love keeps us free.
Love teaches us to lean on Christ.
And Christ teaches us to live.
Amen.
I don’t know about whole books, but I know that my favorite chapters of scripture are Psalm 13, Psalm 139, Isaiah 55, and Romans 12 (I actually just spoke about this chapter on the first night of worship at Candlestick 2015—a children’s camp in the mountains with Aberdeen First Baptist). I also know that some of my favorite passages are these:
From John Chapter 15. Jesus says: My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command…Love each other.
From 1 John Chapter 4: There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear…
From Philippians 2: Let this same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in human likeness, and being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross.
Put these three together and they profoundly influence my view of service, love, and life. Here’s how I figure it:
God’s love, shown most fully through the person of Jesus Christ—the Christ who loves us and calls us friend—is a sacrificial, humble love that seeks to serve and sacrifice on behalf of others. This is how God loves us and it should be how we love one another.
Just as Christ knew who he was and lived out of the fullness of his being, each of us should strive to know who we are so that we can live as most fully ourselves. In being ourselves, we are able to love one another by living selfless, sacrificial lives for those around us—wanting the best for each other—encouraging each other—sharpening and complementing each other—speaking each other’s love languages—and loving each other by laying down our lives for one another in service and in prayer. After all, greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends…and this doesn’t mean that we must physically die…rather, we can, every day, literally lay down our lives for one another in prayer.
My nephew currently loves rollers coasters. In fact, if he had to choose right now, then he would be a roller coaster designer for a career. Life is like a roller coaster. It moves. It changes. It twists and turns. Some days and experiences are joyful, others are sad. Some are easy, others are challenging. Some days we get things right, other days we get them miserably wrong.
But through it all—
through all the ups and downs—
love should be our guide—because in love, there is no fear.
Fear paralyzes.
Fear rears its ugly head and causes us to make more selfishly, desperate decisions than any of us ever want to make.
But love keeps us free.
Love teaches us to lean on Christ.
And Christ teaches us to live.
Amen.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Birthday Bowling
Growing up, I somehow learned to throw incorrectly. Instead of stepping forward with my left foot and throwing with my right arm (I’m right-handed), I stepped forward with my right foot and threw with my right arm. I did the same when “playing” bowling. Instead of sliding with my left foot and rolling with my right arm, I slid with my right foot and rolled with my right arm. I also thought that the word “playing” belonged in front of the word bowling, not realizing that “bowl” is a verb in and of itself.
As an adult, I’ve learned how to throw correctly even though I still throw wrong when I’m not consciously thinking about it. And, thanks to a bowling class in college and my bowling league in South Carolina, I’ve also corrected both my bowling grammar and rolling technique. Both come completely naturally to me now—so much so that bowling is my favorite sport.
It’s no wonder, then, that I immediately said yes when a friend asked if I wanted to go bowling for my birthday yesterday. For the second year in a row, I ate my birthday lunch at a bowling alley and broke out my bowling shoes and bowling balls to celebrate life with friends. For the second year in a row, I had a wonderful time—even if the woman at the food counter refused to give the birthday girl a birthday cookie when she realized that the birthday girl was turning 38—not 3 or 8.
During our second game yesterday, I decided that I’d be adventurous and use the available bumpers. In order to roll the ball to the spot where it needed to ricochet off of the bumper, I had to move over my approach a couple of boards. I found the place where I usually get in my bowling stance, scooted over two boards, and then bowled.
Did you know that the floor boards at the bowling alley aren’t randomly placed? Did you know that all bowling alleys have the same board lay-out and that you can and should use the boards to guide your bowling?
Did you know that it’s cheaper to buy your own bowling shoes than to rent them if you plan to bowl at least once or twice a year? And did you know that bowling shoes come in different styles with different bottoms that help you slide in different ways?
Did you know that lanes at different bowling alleys and in different competitions have different oil patterns laid on them? The machines that bowling alley workers oil the lanes with can be set to distribute different oil patterns, making it more difficult for bowlers to find their path to the strike pocket.
Did you know that bowling balls are not only different weights but are also made of different materials and can be weighted to curve at certain angles and certain times depending on the amount of spin that the bowler puts on the ball?
Did you know that the more a lane is used, the more its oils start forming pathways that balls follow—that this is why it is important to roll consistently and to understand how to make adjustments in approach and/or ball usage? Some balls roll better in different oil patterns on different days with different bowlers who roll different ways.
Did you know that unless you are someone who consistently throws strikes—and that’s not many of us—then you need to learn techniques to pick up your spares if you desire a higher score?
On the surface, bowling seems so simple: roll a ball, knock down the pins. In reality, bowling can actually be quite complicated.
I think this is how it is with people sometimes, too. On the surface, we seem so simple—so happy—so together—so “Christian.” In reality, we are actually quite complicated—with layers of thought and emotion—with layers of questions and doubts.
Sometimes, like I learned to throw incorrectly, we learn to deal with people incorrectly—we learn to be too passive, too aggressive, too involved, not involved enough. But sometimes, even when we learn proper interpersonal techniques—offering safe space, listening well, being non-anxious, embracing unconditionally—we revert back to our old ways like I revert back to my improper throwing.
May we be a people constantly learning proper ways of being in relationship with others—making healthy, selfless love so much a part of ourselves that we don’t have to stop and think—remembering that what seems simple may really carry great depth—knowing that there is always grace when we mess up—because we will—and that there are almost always opportunities for second chances.
May we learn to pick up the spare when the strike just doesn’t come…
As an adult, I’ve learned how to throw correctly even though I still throw wrong when I’m not consciously thinking about it. And, thanks to a bowling class in college and my bowling league in South Carolina, I’ve also corrected both my bowling grammar and rolling technique. Both come completely naturally to me now—so much so that bowling is my favorite sport.
It’s no wonder, then, that I immediately said yes when a friend asked if I wanted to go bowling for my birthday yesterday. For the second year in a row, I ate my birthday lunch at a bowling alley and broke out my bowling shoes and bowling balls to celebrate life with friends. For the second year in a row, I had a wonderful time—even if the woman at the food counter refused to give the birthday girl a birthday cookie when she realized that the birthday girl was turning 38—not 3 or 8.
During our second game yesterday, I decided that I’d be adventurous and use the available bumpers. In order to roll the ball to the spot where it needed to ricochet off of the bumper, I had to move over my approach a couple of boards. I found the place where I usually get in my bowling stance, scooted over two boards, and then bowled.
Did you know that the floor boards at the bowling alley aren’t randomly placed? Did you know that all bowling alleys have the same board lay-out and that you can and should use the boards to guide your bowling?
Did you know that it’s cheaper to buy your own bowling shoes than to rent them if you plan to bowl at least once or twice a year? And did you know that bowling shoes come in different styles with different bottoms that help you slide in different ways?
Did you know that lanes at different bowling alleys and in different competitions have different oil patterns laid on them? The machines that bowling alley workers oil the lanes with can be set to distribute different oil patterns, making it more difficult for bowlers to find their path to the strike pocket.
Did you know that bowling balls are not only different weights but are also made of different materials and can be weighted to curve at certain angles and certain times depending on the amount of spin that the bowler puts on the ball?
Did you know that the more a lane is used, the more its oils start forming pathways that balls follow—that this is why it is important to roll consistently and to understand how to make adjustments in approach and/or ball usage? Some balls roll better in different oil patterns on different days with different bowlers who roll different ways.
Did you know that unless you are someone who consistently throws strikes—and that’s not many of us—then you need to learn techniques to pick up your spares if you desire a higher score?
On the surface, bowling seems so simple: roll a ball, knock down the pins. In reality, bowling can actually be quite complicated.
I think this is how it is with people sometimes, too. On the surface, we seem so simple—so happy—so together—so “Christian.” In reality, we are actually quite complicated—with layers of thought and emotion—with layers of questions and doubts.
Sometimes, like I learned to throw incorrectly, we learn to deal with people incorrectly—we learn to be too passive, too aggressive, too involved, not involved enough. But sometimes, even when we learn proper interpersonal techniques—offering safe space, listening well, being non-anxious, embracing unconditionally—we revert back to our old ways like I revert back to my improper throwing.
May we be a people constantly learning proper ways of being in relationship with others—making healthy, selfless love so much a part of ourselves that we don’t have to stop and think—remembering that what seems simple may really carry great depth—knowing that there is always grace when we mess up—because we will—and that there are almost always opportunities for second chances.
May we learn to pick up the spare when the strike just doesn’t come…
Monday, July 20, 2015
If I Were Independently Wealthy
Yesterday during Nana Camp 2015’s afternoon of water games—after the sprinkler, water pistols, and water balloons—my across-the-street neighbor came over and asked if the kids and I wanted to go swimming in their pool. Naturally, we accepted the invitation.
As the kids swam and floated and played water-basketball, I talked with my neighbors and discussed life and ministry and how there are usually lots of people at their house. My neighbors commented that when they built the pool, they built it so that people would use it. They wanted their blessings to bless others. I commented that if I had a pool, then I would want the same.
Yesterday’s conversation caused my “What would I do if I were independently wealthy?” dream-list to resurface. I’m not even 100% sure that having a pool is on that list, yet if it were then I would definitely invite friends, family, and church members to use the pool frequently.
Here are the things that are definitely on my “What would I do if I were independently wealthy” list. There are others on the maybe list:
• Purchase a beach house (ocean-side), mountain house (next to a stream or waterfall), and lake house (lake-side) to be used as a retreat for ministers and their families, church women’s groups, and small-group school faculty/staff retreats when my family and friends aren’t using it. Include hot tubs, hammocks, swings, rocking chairs, rafts, kayaks, paddle boards, noodles, and all other necessary retreat equipment. Also include living space for permanent caretakers to tend the properties.
• Retire. Continue working part-time at a church or some type of ministry organization and volunteer as a chaplain in the public schools. I have no idea how the latter would happen; I have found no precedent for it. But it is my heart and passion, and I would do it in a heartbeat if I didn’t have to worry about “making a living.” I would most likely do more units of CPE or a residency while making this happen.
• Do something for my family members. I haven’t decided exactly what. Open savings accounts, travel, go on more cruises, pay off cars, homes, and/or college bills are ideas that I have thrown around.
• Visit major zoos and conservation centers around the world. Guests are encouraged and welcomed.
• Establish a scholarship fund. Or two. Or three. Or five.
• Give. A lot.
What about you, friends? What things are on your “What would I do if I were independently wealthy?” list. It may not ever happen, but it certainly doesn’t hurt to dream…and then go swimming.
As the kids swam and floated and played water-basketball, I talked with my neighbors and discussed life and ministry and how there are usually lots of people at their house. My neighbors commented that when they built the pool, they built it so that people would use it. They wanted their blessings to bless others. I commented that if I had a pool, then I would want the same.
Yesterday’s conversation caused my “What would I do if I were independently wealthy?” dream-list to resurface. I’m not even 100% sure that having a pool is on that list, yet if it were then I would definitely invite friends, family, and church members to use the pool frequently.
Here are the things that are definitely on my “What would I do if I were independently wealthy” list. There are others on the maybe list:
• Purchase a beach house (ocean-side), mountain house (next to a stream or waterfall), and lake house (lake-side) to be used as a retreat for ministers and their families, church women’s groups, and small-group school faculty/staff retreats when my family and friends aren’t using it. Include hot tubs, hammocks, swings, rocking chairs, rafts, kayaks, paddle boards, noodles, and all other necessary retreat equipment. Also include living space for permanent caretakers to tend the properties.
• Retire. Continue working part-time at a church or some type of ministry organization and volunteer as a chaplain in the public schools. I have no idea how the latter would happen; I have found no precedent for it. But it is my heart and passion, and I would do it in a heartbeat if I didn’t have to worry about “making a living.” I would most likely do more units of CPE or a residency while making this happen.
• Do something for my family members. I haven’t decided exactly what. Open savings accounts, travel, go on more cruises, pay off cars, homes, and/or college bills are ideas that I have thrown around.
• Visit major zoos and conservation centers around the world. Guests are encouraged and welcomed.
• Establish a scholarship fund. Or two. Or three. Or five.
• Give. A lot.
What about you, friends? What things are on your “What would I do if I were independently wealthy?” list. It may not ever happen, but it certainly doesn’t hurt to dream…and then go swimming.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
He Was Himself
I like movies, yet I seldom actually see them. And when I do, I usually leave wanting to see more because the previews have drawn me in. Sometime last year, at a rare movie theater visit, I saw the preview for The Book of Life. I immediately knew that I wanted to see it and that I wanted to see it with Barb. She does a unit on Mexican art and culture and focuses on Dia de Muertos each year, so I knew The Book of Life would be perfect for us. But guess what? We didn’t get to the theater to see it.
On Tuesday night, I had the opportunity to hang out with some friends. After going to dinner and visiting every pet store in Sanford, we found a Red Box and rented…The Book of Life. I enjoyed it. Barb did, too. And you know what’s really weird? I wasn’t hanging out with Barb! Yes, dear friends, Barb and I ended up watching the same movie on the same night at the same time…completely unplanned and unbeknownst to one another…and it was the exact movie that I’d wanted to see with her!
As Barb and I briefly discussed the movie, she reported that the movie was “close enough” to actual tradition and folklore and I reported that “the story had a good message. He [one of the main characters] overcame his greatest fear. Being himself.”
[This difference in reports actually makes me chuckle. Barb’s is very factual and to the point. Mine is very much steeped in feeling and philosophical meaning .]
The character to which I’m referring and whose name I cannot remember came from a long line of bull fighters. While he, himself, had a true talent for bull fighting, he didn’t love the sport and couldn’t make himself end the fight by killing the bull. As a result, he became a disgrace to his family, and to add injury to insult, he openly shared his love for music—which was seen by almost everyone as a joke. In a pivotal moment in the movie, when a wager was placed that our beloved character could not defeat all of the spirits of bulls killed by all of his ancestors, he made a crucial decision: He decided to use his guitar and voice to sing to the final bull instead of defeating him with his sword. He sang a ballad to the bull and asked him for forgiveness for the sins of his ancestors. The bull forgave him and the spirits disappeared. He won the wager.
Throughout the movie, everyone assumed that our character’s fear was in the act of killing. But that wasn’t it. His fear was in disappointing his family by being himself. His family wanted him to carry on family tradition and live by the bull-fighting sword. He wanted to break family tradition and live by music—and love.
It was only when he chose to be fully himself that he truly faced life and overcame his deepest fear. And it was only in that moment that his family truly appreciated who he was—and they actually embraced him.
Now. For those of you who have seen The Book of Life, you might be wondering if you saw the same movie as me. I just made it sound very serious and meaningful—and that moment was to me—maybe it was to you, too? But the whole movie is actually bright and colorful and centered around a holiday and love story and full of humor. And I liked it. And Barb did, too…as we saw it in two different locations…together…each of us seeing it with eyes that reflect exactly who we are.
On Tuesday night, I had the opportunity to hang out with some friends. After going to dinner and visiting every pet store in Sanford, we found a Red Box and rented…The Book of Life. I enjoyed it. Barb did, too. And you know what’s really weird? I wasn’t hanging out with Barb! Yes, dear friends, Barb and I ended up watching the same movie on the same night at the same time…completely unplanned and unbeknownst to one another…and it was the exact movie that I’d wanted to see with her!
As Barb and I briefly discussed the movie, she reported that the movie was “close enough” to actual tradition and folklore and I reported that “the story had a good message. He [one of the main characters] overcame his greatest fear. Being himself.”
[This difference in reports actually makes me chuckle. Barb’s is very factual and to the point. Mine is very much steeped in feeling and philosophical meaning .]
The character to which I’m referring and whose name I cannot remember came from a long line of bull fighters. While he, himself, had a true talent for bull fighting, he didn’t love the sport and couldn’t make himself end the fight by killing the bull. As a result, he became a disgrace to his family, and to add injury to insult, he openly shared his love for music—which was seen by almost everyone as a joke. In a pivotal moment in the movie, when a wager was placed that our beloved character could not defeat all of the spirits of bulls killed by all of his ancestors, he made a crucial decision: He decided to use his guitar and voice to sing to the final bull instead of defeating him with his sword. He sang a ballad to the bull and asked him for forgiveness for the sins of his ancestors. The bull forgave him and the spirits disappeared. He won the wager.
Throughout the movie, everyone assumed that our character’s fear was in the act of killing. But that wasn’t it. His fear was in disappointing his family by being himself. His family wanted him to carry on family tradition and live by the bull-fighting sword. He wanted to break family tradition and live by music—and love.
It was only when he chose to be fully himself that he truly faced life and overcame his deepest fear. And it was only in that moment that his family truly appreciated who he was—and they actually embraced him.
Now. For those of you who have seen The Book of Life, you might be wondering if you saw the same movie as me. I just made it sound very serious and meaningful—and that moment was to me—maybe it was to you, too? But the whole movie is actually bright and colorful and centered around a holiday and love story and full of humor. And I liked it. And Barb did, too…as we saw it in two different locations…together…each of us seeing it with eyes that reflect exactly who we are.
Monday, July 13, 2015
Not My Proudest Moment, But...
A good friend recently shared with me a conversation that she had with her youngest son after visiting a zoo. I giggle every time I think about it. The conversation went something like this:
Son: Did you see the size of the balls on that tiger?!
Friend: Yes. He did have large testicles. Your brothers would have probably appreciated seeing those.
She went on to say to me, “Not my proudest moment as a mother, but…”
I don’t remember what was after the “but” because the statement that I hear is this:
Not my proudest moment, but there is laughter…
-------
A few weeks ago, on the very day that my church voted to make me the permanent part-time music minister, I threw a little fit after worship. The Sunday night before, the praise team and I had spent a couple of hours moving our equipment to the sanctuary and setting it up for the summer’s blended worship services. I knew that a wedding was scheduled in the sanctuary for the next week and I knew that we would need to remove my guitars and other things from the stage, but I didn’t know that we would have to move everything and undo the hours of work that we’d just done. As a team of good-hearted men swarmed the stage to help clear all of the equipment, I got really frustrated. In my frustration, I became mean. In my meanness, people began treading lightly because they knew that I was frustrated. And…yeh…it was ugly.
Not my proudest moment, but there is grace…
-------
Yesterday, while we leading the first hymn, “Come All Christians, Be Committed,” I had the thought: “Wait. This hymn-tune sounds very familiar. Wait. I think it might be the same tune as ‘The Servant Song,’ and we’re singing that next. Is it the same tune?!” Yes. Yes it was. Eek! On the night that I’d planned the music for yesterday’s service, I’d paid so much attention to song lyrics and incorporating both the choir and praise team that it hadn’t occurred to me that I’d chosen the same hymn-tune. Oops.
Not my proudest moment, but there is faith…
-------
The rental house that my family and I rented at Hyco Lake last week was on a lane that had a roller coaster-like hill. My oldest nephew, Jack, absolutely loves roller coasters. In fact, if given a choice at this point in life, he would be a roller coaster designer and operator. Naturally, I decided that it would be fun to put the car in neutral as Jack and I descended the hill while going to the store on Tuesday. I used to do this all the time at the camp where I worked. What wasn’t so natural was deciding to leave the car in neutral and let it roll back down the hill upon our return. But. I did. Then we rolled back up. And down. And up. And down. Until the car ran out of momentum. Like the Pirate Ship. Or some other amusement park ride. Jack was grinning. I was, too. It was really fun.
Not my proudest moment, but there is joy…
-------
And through it all,
Through all of our non-proud moments of humanity—
When being a mature role model goes out the window,
When acting as a Christ-like minister is impossible,
When planning ahead messes up—
There is laughter and joy and grace and faith…
And love.
Yes, through it all:
There is love.
Son: Did you see the size of the balls on that tiger?!
Friend: Yes. He did have large testicles. Your brothers would have probably appreciated seeing those.
She went on to say to me, “Not my proudest moment as a mother, but…”
I don’t remember what was after the “but” because the statement that I hear is this:
Not my proudest moment, but there is laughter…
-------
A few weeks ago, on the very day that my church voted to make me the permanent part-time music minister, I threw a little fit after worship. The Sunday night before, the praise team and I had spent a couple of hours moving our equipment to the sanctuary and setting it up for the summer’s blended worship services. I knew that a wedding was scheduled in the sanctuary for the next week and I knew that we would need to remove my guitars and other things from the stage, but I didn’t know that we would have to move everything and undo the hours of work that we’d just done. As a team of good-hearted men swarmed the stage to help clear all of the equipment, I got really frustrated. In my frustration, I became mean. In my meanness, people began treading lightly because they knew that I was frustrated. And…yeh…it was ugly.
Not my proudest moment, but there is grace…
-------
Yesterday, while we leading the first hymn, “Come All Christians, Be Committed,” I had the thought: “Wait. This hymn-tune sounds very familiar. Wait. I think it might be the same tune as ‘The Servant Song,’ and we’re singing that next. Is it the same tune?!” Yes. Yes it was. Eek! On the night that I’d planned the music for yesterday’s service, I’d paid so much attention to song lyrics and incorporating both the choir and praise team that it hadn’t occurred to me that I’d chosen the same hymn-tune. Oops.
Not my proudest moment, but there is faith…
-------
The rental house that my family and I rented at Hyco Lake last week was on a lane that had a roller coaster-like hill. My oldest nephew, Jack, absolutely loves roller coasters. In fact, if given a choice at this point in life, he would be a roller coaster designer and operator. Naturally, I decided that it would be fun to put the car in neutral as Jack and I descended the hill while going to the store on Tuesday. I used to do this all the time at the camp where I worked. What wasn’t so natural was deciding to leave the car in neutral and let it roll back down the hill upon our return. But. I did. Then we rolled back up. And down. And up. And down. Until the car ran out of momentum. Like the Pirate Ship. Or some other amusement park ride. Jack was grinning. I was, too. It was really fun.
Not my proudest moment, but there is joy…
-------
And through it all,
Through all of our non-proud moments of humanity—
When being a mature role model goes out the window,
When acting as a Christ-like minister is impossible,
When planning ahead messes up—
There is laughter and joy and grace and faith…
And love.
Yes, through it all:
There is love.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
The Things We Do For Love
Until Saturday night, I’d only seen Forest Gump one time. Now I’ve seen it one and a half times. It’s really a very good movie, and I can’t help but smile when I think of Forest’s unwavering, selfless, and steady love for the people in his life. One of my favorite parts of the story is when Captain Dan, having disappeared from Forest’s life for a couple of years, appears at the end of Forest’s boat dock. Forest is so excited to see Captain Dan that he immediately jumps off of his shrimp boat and starts swimming to the dock. Meanwhile, Forest’s boat is left unattended and eventually crashes. It’s very funny. But it’s also very moving just how genuinely excited Forest is to see his friend.
Love causes us to do weird things sometimes—things that we might not do if we stopped to think about them for a moment—but things so very wonderful because they come from a place deep inside us that we cannot control.
Yesterday, while the kids were playing foosball, Jack sustained a small injury. As the bruise on his hip started to move outward from foosball pole’s point of impact, I said, “I’ll go get you some ice.” Amelia immediately chimed in, “I’ll go with you.” Amelia held the bag for me as I filled it with ice and declared that everything would be just fine. Then, on her way out of the kitchen, with no previous thought or plan, she said, “Oh. I’ll grab him a York Peppermint Patty. That’ll make him all better.” And it did. Because Jack’s bruise never really moved beyond that dot.
Later in the afternoon, after Jack’s York Peppermint Patty had healed him, he volunteered to pull Amelia, Griffin, and Charlie on the paddle board as he kayaked. His dad, my brother, chaperoned on another kayak and his mom paddled along on another paddle board. I’m not exactly sure what happened as my brother tried to get out of his kayak but something went wrong and the next thing I knew his kayak was taking in water and Jack had jumped in to help get his dad out. The thing was…my brother had on his life jacket and wasn’t going to sink. But Jack, with no conscious thought or plan, jumped in to rescue his dad with nothing but himself. No noodle. No life jacket. Just love.
Forest and Jack jumped in the water. Come to think of it, Peter did, too, when he saw Jesus long, long ago. Amelia healed with a York Peppermint Patty. Jesus healed with his life.
Love causes us to do weird things sometimes—things that we might not do if we stopped to think about them for a moment—but things so very wonderful because they come from a place
deep inside us that we cannot control.
When is the last time you did something weird for love? What’s more: when is the last time someone did something weird for you?
Love causes us to do weird things sometimes—things that we might not do if we stopped to think about them for a moment—but things so very wonderful because they come from a place deep inside us that we cannot control.
Yesterday, while the kids were playing foosball, Jack sustained a small injury. As the bruise on his hip started to move outward from foosball pole’s point of impact, I said, “I’ll go get you some ice.” Amelia immediately chimed in, “I’ll go with you.” Amelia held the bag for me as I filled it with ice and declared that everything would be just fine. Then, on her way out of the kitchen, with no previous thought or plan, she said, “Oh. I’ll grab him a York Peppermint Patty. That’ll make him all better.” And it did. Because Jack’s bruise never really moved beyond that dot.
Later in the afternoon, after Jack’s York Peppermint Patty had healed him, he volunteered to pull Amelia, Griffin, and Charlie on the paddle board as he kayaked. His dad, my brother, chaperoned on another kayak and his mom paddled along on another paddle board. I’m not exactly sure what happened as my brother tried to get out of his kayak but something went wrong and the next thing I knew his kayak was taking in water and Jack had jumped in to help get his dad out. The thing was…my brother had on his life jacket and wasn’t going to sink. But Jack, with no conscious thought or plan, jumped in to rescue his dad with nothing but himself. No noodle. No life jacket. Just love.
Forest and Jack jumped in the water. Come to think of it, Peter did, too, when he saw Jesus long, long ago. Amelia healed with a York Peppermint Patty. Jesus healed with his life.
Love causes us to do weird things sometimes—things that we might not do if we stopped to think about them for a moment—but things so very wonderful because they come from a place
deep inside us that we cannot control.
When is the last time you did something weird for love? What’s more: when is the last time someone did something weird for you?
Monday, July 6, 2015
My Hallmark-Friend's Integrity
About six weeks ago, on a Friday afternoon, I randomly decided to visit my local Hallmark. I hadn’t been in awhile. I wanted to check the sales. But when I drove up I saw something I didn’t expect: Going Out Of Business: Everything 30% off.
What was supposed to be a quick trip immediately turned into a long trip as I shopped and weighed the pros and cons of buying at 30% off vs. the sales that I knew would follow.
In the weeks that have followed that Hallmark-ly fateful day, I have visited the store for every price point drop. 40% off. 50% off. 60% off. Each time I’ve gone into the store, shopped, and weighed the pros and cons of buying or waiting.
Not to brag, but I think I’ve done a pretty good job gauging when I’ve needed to buy and when it’s been okay to wait. I went for the rarely-on-sale gift items somewhat quickly but waited for the cards. I currently have enough cards to last for quite awhile. My plan is to make a spreadsheet of the gifts and cards I purchased—some for specific people, some to have ready for the right occasion. My hope is that I’ll actually remember to look at the spreadsheet, send the cards, and give the gifts!
Sadly, my local Hallmark, Peggy’s Hallmark of Lillington, is no longer a Crown Rewards Store. They stopped paying their dues when they decided to close. For those of you who may not know Hallmark-ese, that means that because the store is not a Crown Rewards store, customers have not been getting rewards points for purchases made. Ordinarily I wouldn’t care, but I’ve purchased so much stuff that I should have earned a whole bunch of rewards points…which is where the main point of today’s writing lies.
Because I’ve been to the store so often recently, I’ve become Hallmark-friends with the two workers. We’ve shared funny cards and stories and learned about one another’s families and had a good time bantering back and forth at how dedicated I am in my gift and card buying. Today, after our normal greetings, I told my Hallmark-friends that this would probably be the last time I’d come into the store before it closed because I wouldn’t be free during business hours next week. We were all very saddened that I wouldn’t make the 75% or 80% off sales.
As I started making my Hallmark-pile on what used to be the display shelves at the front, one of the workers told me that I could call 1-800-HALLMARK and have them credit my account for the cards I bought. The trick was keeping the purchase under $100 and knowing exactly how many cards were purchased. We worked together to make this happen—splitting the purchase into two transactions—and then we told each other our Hallmark-goodbyes, realizing that we might not see each other again because the store was closing.
After running some other errands, which may have included going to another Hallmark store to look for Vera Bradley, I stopped by the house before heading to an appointment in Raleigh. When I got home, my mom told me that Hallmark had called. Evidently, one of my Hallmark-friends had charged me too much, realized her error, felt terrible about the overcharge, looked up my name in the local Hallmark-Database, and called my house to tell me to come back by the store so that she could credit back the money.
It was $5.99. $5.99 that I pretty much guarantee I would have never missed. $5.99 that her store could have kept as it was going out of business. $5.99 that seems so small in the scheme of my Hallmark purchases but that now means so much.
In this broken world of broken people where we so often we hear of taking instead of giving, of lying instead of telling the truth, of loopholes instead of integrity, there are still good people trying to bring good to the world…
Thank you, Hallmark-friend, for showing me that today. And rest assured: I will do my best to bring good to the world, too, $5.99- or one card- or gift- at a time.
What was supposed to be a quick trip immediately turned into a long trip as I shopped and weighed the pros and cons of buying at 30% off vs. the sales that I knew would follow.
In the weeks that have followed that Hallmark-ly fateful day, I have visited the store for every price point drop. 40% off. 50% off. 60% off. Each time I’ve gone into the store, shopped, and weighed the pros and cons of buying or waiting.
Not to brag, but I think I’ve done a pretty good job gauging when I’ve needed to buy and when it’s been okay to wait. I went for the rarely-on-sale gift items somewhat quickly but waited for the cards. I currently have enough cards to last for quite awhile. My plan is to make a spreadsheet of the gifts and cards I purchased—some for specific people, some to have ready for the right occasion. My hope is that I’ll actually remember to look at the spreadsheet, send the cards, and give the gifts!
Sadly, my local Hallmark, Peggy’s Hallmark of Lillington, is no longer a Crown Rewards Store. They stopped paying their dues when they decided to close. For those of you who may not know Hallmark-ese, that means that because the store is not a Crown Rewards store, customers have not been getting rewards points for purchases made. Ordinarily I wouldn’t care, but I’ve purchased so much stuff that I should have earned a whole bunch of rewards points…which is where the main point of today’s writing lies.
Because I’ve been to the store so often recently, I’ve become Hallmark-friends with the two workers. We’ve shared funny cards and stories and learned about one another’s families and had a good time bantering back and forth at how dedicated I am in my gift and card buying. Today, after our normal greetings, I told my Hallmark-friends that this would probably be the last time I’d come into the store before it closed because I wouldn’t be free during business hours next week. We were all very saddened that I wouldn’t make the 75% or 80% off sales.
As I started making my Hallmark-pile on what used to be the display shelves at the front, one of the workers told me that I could call 1-800-HALLMARK and have them credit my account for the cards I bought. The trick was keeping the purchase under $100 and knowing exactly how many cards were purchased. We worked together to make this happen—splitting the purchase into two transactions—and then we told each other our Hallmark-goodbyes, realizing that we might not see each other again because the store was closing.
After running some other errands, which may have included going to another Hallmark store to look for Vera Bradley, I stopped by the house before heading to an appointment in Raleigh. When I got home, my mom told me that Hallmark had called. Evidently, one of my Hallmark-friends had charged me too much, realized her error, felt terrible about the overcharge, looked up my name in the local Hallmark-Database, and called my house to tell me to come back by the store so that she could credit back the money.
It was $5.99. $5.99 that I pretty much guarantee I would have never missed. $5.99 that her store could have kept as it was going out of business. $5.99 that seems so small in the scheme of my Hallmark purchases but that now means so much.
In this broken world of broken people where we so often we hear of taking instead of giving, of lying instead of telling the truth, of loopholes instead of integrity, there are still good people trying to bring good to the world…
Thank you, Hallmark-friend, for showing me that today. And rest assured: I will do my best to bring good to the world, too, $5.99- or one card- or gift- at a time.
The Volcanic Brain Blender and Rest
God created the world in six days and then rested on the seventh.
Jesus traveled and taught and healed and loved until he could do no more and then found retreat to rest and pray.
God commands that we remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.
Jesus tells all who are weary and heavy-laden to come to him and find rest.
So why is it so hard?
Why is it so hard simply to rest?
Yesterday, I played Dixit with my niece and nephews. Dixit is game where one player, the active player, gives a description of one of the six art-cards in his/her hand and the other players each choose a card in their hands that best matches the description. All cards are laid down, mixed up, and turned over. Players must then choose which card they think was the active player’s card. Points are awarded according to the game’s point system until a winner is declared. The kids really enjoy playing Dixit, and I enjoy playing with them. Sometimes it’s hard to guess which card matches the description of “really weird” or “scary” or “strange” when most of the game-cards could fit those descriptions, but it certainly is fun to try.
During one of my turns in yesterday’s game, I laid down the image of a volcano erupting with various types of symbols. Some were mathematical. Some were musical. Some were literary. They all were mixed up and random and exploding at the same time. The description that I gave? “What my mind does when I try to fall asleep.”
Joe the Counselor calls this the brain blender. I’ve studied enough centering prayer and meditation practices to know some techniques that help work through and let go of the volcanic blender of thoughts that explosively run toward me when I slow down to sleep, but it’s still frustrating to be chased by thoughts of what I could be or need to be doing if I find time to lay down to rest during the day or thoughts of what I could have done better or what might possibly happen in the future when I lay down to sleep at night.
I like to sleep. I find genuine pleasure in snuggling into bed and think it’d be great if America would adopt the idea of taking a siesta each day—or if Kindergarten would simply take a nap each day! And yet we don’t. We, as a society, are expected to do as much as we can with the time that we’re given—whether it be pleasurable activity or the work that pays to fund those pleasurable activities. And we, as a church, are taught to serve others selflessly—whether it be with our time or our talents. For those of us who are recovering people-pleasers with a genuine heart to serve others, this doesn’t create much time for guiltless rest—except at night when our bodies crash—and then we must work through the volcanic brain blender.
I meant to send one of my friends a birthday present last week. When I wrote her to tell her that I’d not gotten to the post office to mail her gift, I mentioned that I’d been sleeping in the moments when I wasn’t scheduled to be somewhere to needed to help around the house. I also apologized for this. She responded:
You are absolutely correct that I’m not concerned about my present not being mailed—except that it is something from you and that makes me happy! But I am concerned about you. Perhaps part of the “problem” is that you are tired?!?! You give 200% all school year and at church and I know you’ve been helping your mom. So, when is your time just to rest? Don’t be too hard on yourself—if you don’t need to get up for a few days, don’t get up. Refuel your physical body even as you renew your spiritual body. I love you very much!
Her message made me cry.
Joe the Counselor said that I’d be surprised by how many people said that what they wanted and needed most was to get more rest.
God created the world in six days and then rested on the seventh.
Jesus traveled and taught and healed and loved until he could do no more and then found retreat to rest and pray.
God commands that we remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.
Jesus tells all who are weary and heavy-laden to come to him and find rest.
So why is it so hard?
Why is it so hard simply to rest?
Oh God, help us to rest.
And to know that it’s okay.
Even good.
And needed.
To rest.
Amen.
Jesus traveled and taught and healed and loved until he could do no more and then found retreat to rest and pray.
God commands that we remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.
Jesus tells all who are weary and heavy-laden to come to him and find rest.
So why is it so hard?
Why is it so hard simply to rest?
Yesterday, I played Dixit with my niece and nephews. Dixit is game where one player, the active player, gives a description of one of the six art-cards in his/her hand and the other players each choose a card in their hands that best matches the description. All cards are laid down, mixed up, and turned over. Players must then choose which card they think was the active player’s card. Points are awarded according to the game’s point system until a winner is declared. The kids really enjoy playing Dixit, and I enjoy playing with them. Sometimes it’s hard to guess which card matches the description of “really weird” or “scary” or “strange” when most of the game-cards could fit those descriptions, but it certainly is fun to try.
During one of my turns in yesterday’s game, I laid down the image of a volcano erupting with various types of symbols. Some were mathematical. Some were musical. Some were literary. They all were mixed up and random and exploding at the same time. The description that I gave? “What my mind does when I try to fall asleep.”
Joe the Counselor calls this the brain blender. I’ve studied enough centering prayer and meditation practices to know some techniques that help work through and let go of the volcanic blender of thoughts that explosively run toward me when I slow down to sleep, but it’s still frustrating to be chased by thoughts of what I could be or need to be doing if I find time to lay down to rest during the day or thoughts of what I could have done better or what might possibly happen in the future when I lay down to sleep at night.
I like to sleep. I find genuine pleasure in snuggling into bed and think it’d be great if America would adopt the idea of taking a siesta each day—or if Kindergarten would simply take a nap each day! And yet we don’t. We, as a society, are expected to do as much as we can with the time that we’re given—whether it be pleasurable activity or the work that pays to fund those pleasurable activities. And we, as a church, are taught to serve others selflessly—whether it be with our time or our talents. For those of us who are recovering people-pleasers with a genuine heart to serve others, this doesn’t create much time for guiltless rest—except at night when our bodies crash—and then we must work through the volcanic brain blender.
I meant to send one of my friends a birthday present last week. When I wrote her to tell her that I’d not gotten to the post office to mail her gift, I mentioned that I’d been sleeping in the moments when I wasn’t scheduled to be somewhere to needed to help around the house. I also apologized for this. She responded:
You are absolutely correct that I’m not concerned about my present not being mailed—except that it is something from you and that makes me happy! But I am concerned about you. Perhaps part of the “problem” is that you are tired?!?! You give 200% all school year and at church and I know you’ve been helping your mom. So, when is your time just to rest? Don’t be too hard on yourself—if you don’t need to get up for a few days, don’t get up. Refuel your physical body even as you renew your spiritual body. I love you very much!
Her message made me cry.
Joe the Counselor said that I’d be surprised by how many people said that what they wanted and needed most was to get more rest.
God created the world in six days and then rested on the seventh.
Jesus traveled and taught and healed and loved until he could do no more and then found retreat to rest and pray.
God commands that we remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.
Jesus tells all who are weary and heavy-laden to come to him and find rest.
So why is it so hard?
Why is it so hard simply to rest?
Oh God, help us to rest.
And to know that it’s okay.
Even good.
And needed.
To rest.
Amen.
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