See Me

 

I was sitting outside at the camp where I’m spending the week, thinking and praying about what to write today, when I looked down and noticed millipedes crawling near my feet.

 

At first, I thought that the world must look so big to them. I had just played a game where I had to crawl like an inch-worm, and from the vantage point of where I lay, trying to look ahead and see where I was attempting to squirm, the world looked very big. 

 

But then I thought, they really are camouflaged for their surroundings. They don’t want to be seen.

 

And then I thought, aren’t the two together what so many people are—especially in megachurches? Existing in a big world, not really wanting to be seen?

 

But then I thought, yet is that true? Do people really not want to be seen? Or are they simply afraid to be seen because they are afraid of getting hurt?

 

I know that the campers this week have hurt some millipedes when seeing them.

 

I don’t know.

 

I suppose maybe it’s both. I suppose maybe we’re a combination of wanting to be seen and wanting to remain anonymous in this big world. I suppose maybe our desires can be different at different times. I suppose maybe we can want to be seen by some by want to remain part of the crowd to others.

 

Again, I don’t know.

 

I just know that when we see someone—when we really see them—we should see them as a beloved child of God, not necessarily good but not beyond redemption, not necessarily perfect but not beyond grace, not necessarily pretty but not beyond beauty, and not necessarily all together but not beyond hope.

 

That’s what God did with God’s people time and time again. Just look at the story of Jonah. The whole thing. And that’s what Jesus did when he walked on this earth, died a painful death, and was resurrected into life.

 

We live in a big world where it’s easy to get lost. Let’s pray that we will see people when they are ready to be seen and that when we do, we will truly see them, and love them, and welcome them to the table, just as they are.

 

Amen.

Willing

 

I had the opportunity to preach at my church yesterday. I chose to preach from the gospel lectionary reading, so I preached the same text as many preachers around the world. That’s a neat thought to me.

 

The text was John 6:1-21. It was the stories of Jesus feeding the 5000 and of Jesus walking on water.

 

As I read and studied the text, one phrase kept sticking out to me: “then they were willing to take him into the boat.”

 

There was Jesus, walking across an angry sea, standing in the middle of a storm, and the disciples had to decide if they were willing to take him into the boat.

 

What other choices did they have? Leave him standing in the middle of the sea getting battered by waves and rain? Tell him to keep walking? Tell him they don’t believe that he is actually Jesus and reject his statement of I am?

 

As the idea of willingness unfolded, so did a sermon…and a song.

 

Since the sermon is too long to post, I will post the lyrics to the song.

 

In the picture, you can see the original lyrics penned by a friend…and then you see can scribbles and arrows and chords and what looks like a mess…but it actually did end up a song summary of a sermon that ended with one simple question:

 

Are you willing to let God speak to and/or work through you today?

 

-----

 

The King of Kings was tired

He asked for a little rest

But the people still cried out for Him

And he was willing

To give them all his strength

To heal their brokenness

Even though they didn’t understand

He was willing

 

The boy was small and hungry

He had travelled many miles

Be he saw what was needed

And was willing

To give all that he had

To feed all those around

Even though it left him nothing

He was willing

 

You don’t have to have a plan

You don’t have to know it all

You don’t have to be perfect

Just be willing

No, you don’t have to have a plan

You don’t have to know it all

You don’t have to be perfect

Just be willing

 

The disciples rowed off shore

They paddled in a storm

They left all alone

But they were willing

To see Christ as he was

To let him in their boat

Even though they were scared

They were willing

 

She felt she had no purpose

That she had little to give

How could God use her

But she was willing

To give away her hope

To freely share her love

To give of her compassion

She was willing

 

You don’t have to have a plan

You don’t have to know it all

You don’t have to be perfect

Just be willing

No, you don’t have to have a plan

You don’t have to know it all

You don’t have to be perfect

Just be willing

 

You don’t have to be perfect

Just be willing

Birthday Interview

 

In honor of my birthday week, I decided to conduct an interview on myself with questions from friends and family. As you read, try to answer the questions for yourself. It’s fun—and challenging! I hope you enjoy! 😊

 

If you had to eat only one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be? The Sandwich! 😊

 

What is your favorite characteristic of God? I like that God is a Trinity God: Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer. 

 

Which Disney character do you identify with the most? Mulan.

 

Which Disney character would you consider your opposite? Gaston.

 

What is something you like doing now that in high school or college you have never guessed you’d enjoy doing? Drinking coffee!

 

What would be your dream vacation? Traveling anywhere safely with friends and/or family and having a good time.

 

If you could have any super power, what would it be? I don’t know if it’s considered a super hero power, but I’d love to be able to disparate!

 

Do you still do a gazillion spreadsheets? Yes! There’s little more satisfying than a good spreadsheet! 😊

 

What is your favorite meal? Dad’s grilled pork chops, Rice-a-Roni, field peas, squash casserole, and Mom’s peach pie.

 

What do you want to be when you grow up? A chaplain in the public schools. But. Alas, this job doesn’t exist.

 

What is the best advice your mom ever gave you? A handshake before every major performance, audition, sermon, or first day of school. In that handshake, I hear, “Do your best. I believe in you.”

 

What is the best advice your dad ever gave you? Watch out for the deers and the drunks.

 

If you could go back to 10-year-old Dee, what advice would you give her? To actually practice piano instead of just doing enough to get by. I did okay. But there is so much more that I could have done—including listening to my teacher’s fingering suggestions and learning to sight-read hymns! 

 

If you wrote a book about your life, what would the title be? “For The Love of Barb: Stories of Friendship and Love.”  One story would be how I once went into the Asian Grocery Store alone to buy something for Barb the Art Teacher even though the smell of the store makes me gag!

 

What is your best memory of a birthday? I have a lot of good birthday memories—including many birthday slumber parties growing up—but one of my best birthday memories was when I turned 21 and was working in the mountains. My mom, dad, and sister drove many hours to see me, and we went bowling with the mission team I was working with and just, generally, had a nice time!

 

How old were you when you had your first memory of making yourself proud? What happened? This answer is a double-edged sword. At my 8th grade graduation, I received almost every academic award possible. On the one hand, I was very proud, but on the other hand, I was embarrassed at how many times my name was called and how many plaques and certificates I received while most of the rest of the class received nothing.  

 

What’s on your bucket list? I’d like to write and publish a book, buy a small camper and travel the continental US, visit Hawaii and Alaska, go somewhere in Africa, and go parasailing again (with motion sickness medicine this time!). 

 

What world event that has occurred in your lifetime has had the most personal effect? A lot of world events have impacted me indirectly. But I think that 9/11 impacted me directly in that it changed security protocols and the way we travel.

 

Since you are a gift-giver and your gifts usually have meaning, what was the last gift you gave and what was the meaning behind it? A “new” (vintage) microwave potato dish! We’ve used the same dish for Deaton Potatoes for as long as I can remember. Ours cracked a few years ago. It was still usable, but injured. I’d forgotten about the crack until I saw it a few weeks ago. I immediately looked on e-Bay and found a replacement dish. As soon as the dish arrived in the mail, I had mom and dad open it as part of their birthday gifts. They loved it!

 

Why do you collect orange fish and which is your favorite in your collection? I led staff worship at Camp Mundo Vista in the summer of 2000. To culminate our week together, I wanted to serve communion to the unit leaders who would then serve communion to each of her cabin leaders. That summer, Walmart’s summer collection was based on fish. They had fish cutting boards, fish napkin holders, and fish candles, and they had an ice cream goblet to go with each set. I decided to use those things to serve communion. I bought one set for each unit leader and I kept one for myself. Orange was my favorite color, so I kept orange. The night was so meaningful that when someone asked me what I collected, I said, “Orange Fish.” I now have a huge collection of orange fish, including a curio cabinet full of orange fish trinkets (including the original communion set) and an entire room of orange fish art.  And while I really can’t choose a favorite, one of my favorites is the fish that Barb The Art Teacher drew during my ordination service.   

 

What is a moment that happened to you this year that humbled you? A couple of weeks ago, I posted something on Facebook that left me feeling vulnerable. I spent a lot of time writing the post and knew that the subject matter was dense, but I also felt that it needed to be said. Needless to say, the post didn’t attract many “likes,” so I was feeling really bummed and sorry for myself. Later that night, I received a private message from a friend who had been deeply moved by the post and who, then, had the courage to share her story with me. I was truly humbled. 

 

What do you want to be remembered for? Making a positive difference in lives and believing in people for who they are. 

Safe Zone Training

 

 

I had the opportunity to go a Safe Zone Training at East Carolina University on Saturday.

 

While the day focused specifically on being a safe space for LGBTQ students, I walked away with echoes of a very important statement: “Overall inclusivity is important. There are lots of different differences.”

 

In fact, I’d wager to say that almost everyone feels different in at least one way at least one point in their lives.

 

Regardless of how you feel about LGBTQ issues—and believe me when I say that I know that there are all kinds of thoughts and feelings about LGBTQ issues—one thing needs to be understood: The differences that LGBTQ children, teens, and adults feel run to the very core of identity. We’re not talking about “risky, sinful behaviors.” We’re talking about personhood and, in many cases, whether or not someone feels worthy to be alive.

 

In my job, my purpose is not to judge a student and deem them unworthy because of their lack of interest in music, their behavior, their home-life, their religious upbringing, their sexuality, their academic failures, or anything else. My life’s work, instead, is to see all students as beloved and support them on their journeys into the unknown.

 

And what’s one way that I can do this? I can support, normalize, and validate feelings. This is one of the things that we talked about at Saturday’s training. I can let students—and colleagues—know that I am here to listen—to whatever is on their hearts and minds. I can show empathy for concerns. And when I can’t be supportive of things that I don’t understand, I can refer to someone who is, and then I can work on my own biases by reading, learning, and talking to people who can help stretch me beyond myself.

 

In short, I can be a safe space.

 

Dear God: You, in your essence, unadulterated by limited human understanding and religion, are a safe space. Jesus, you, in your personhood, undeterred by limited human understanding and religion, were a safe space. Holy Spirit, you, in your presence, unlimited by limited human understanding and religion, are a safe space. Likewise, help us to be safe spaces that honor the dignity and worth of each human life. Amen. 

Interview with Dad

 

What is your favorite color? Purple.

 

What was your favorite meal when you were a child? My mother’s roast beef and rice with tomatoes, butterbeans, corn, and biscuits.

 

What is one of your favorite childhood memories? Swimming in the Lumber River.

 

How did you meet Mom? I met her in college and became interested in her in Algebra class. She was the smartest one in the class and I felt like the dumbest one in the class, and I needed help. I’d also see her in the cafeteria and library. We’d see each other and smile and talk and get to know each other.

 

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done for money? Probably when I ran the meat department at the grocery store by myself and sold fish and cut bologna and luncheon meats and cheeses and worked 14-hour days in high school. The manager wouldn’t even let me go out for lunch. I’d go to work at 8am and leave at 10pm with no breaks, and I only made something like .75 an hour.  

 

What skill are you working to improve most right now? My comprehension in reading. I read really fast, but I don’t comprehend as quickly. I need to read slower, so that’s a skill I’m having to develop. I’m also learning to enjoy contemplative prayer and to integrate who I am now with all I’ve ever been.

 

What is your favorite devotion book? Right now, it’s probably Charles Westbrook’s “Fresh Daily.” I also like Henry Nouwen’s stuff.

 

What is your favorite Bible verse? Right now, it’s Colossians 1:27—“To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” This is the whole idea that God’s not out there somewhere, he’s in here (pointing to his heart). The power of God is based on what God has done, not what we can do. And it’s for everybody—for the world. And this is what God revealed to us in Jesus. At first it was hidden and now it’s been made known through the cross. This is some powerful theological stuff. At our best, we are a vessel—a conduit—a receptacle through which God comes into the world. 

 

What is the best lesson your father ever taught you? To be faithful to your friends and your family.

 

What is the best lesson your mother ever taught you? That you need to laugh every day to keep your sanity.

 

What gets you out of bed in the morning? I need to pee. But also, every day is an adventure for me to discover what God has in store for me that day.

 

If you could vacation anywhere in the world, where would you go? I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii.

 

If you could give your 30-year-old-self one piece of advice, what would it be?  Do not fear the unknown.

 

Is there anything else you would like to share? I feel especially blessed and believe I have been chosen by God to be one of His children. This gives me eternal security now.

 

Is there anything else you would like to share? I like to live in the present moment.

 

Is there anything else you would like to share? I have come to value the relationships with my family more than anything else in my life.

 

Is there anything else you would like to share? I am most grateful for my family and the opportunities God gives me every day to see Him in my world.

 

Is there anything else you would like to share before we wrap up this interview? I’m very happy to be who I am at this stage in my life…And I guess I can say one more thing: I have a lot of good memories with a lot of good people and I look forward to making more good memories with those I love. 

Abuse

 

***Trigger Warning: Abuse***

 

Over the past couple of months, I’ve heard at least five different stories of women who are either stuck in or have fled from abusive relationships.

 

It’s gut-wrenching to hear stories of being held at knife point, of being pushed onto the bed and hit repeatedly, of being isolated from friends, of walking on egg-shells, of having to make everything appear perfect but living in hell when doors are closed. It’s heart-breaking to hear the fear that comes through manipulation and threats. It’s soul discouraging to hear of “men of God” dominating and subjecting their wives to unwanted and undesired acts in the name of submission.

 

One of the women who shared her story with me said, “I used to wonder what it was like to be married to someone normal. I would see families that appeared to have it all together, but then I realized that that’s how my family looked. You never know what goes on when no one is looking.”

 

She escaped her abusive marriage with a late night 911 to a family member and a restraining order against her husband the next day. To this day, she shutters in fear when she sees her ex.

 

Abuse is not just physical. It is mental, spiritual, emotional, and psychological. When you have to lie about going to Walmart so you can see your friends, then you are in an abusive relationship. Sometimes we can see it. Sometimes we can’t. Sometimes we know it. Sometimes we don’t. Regardless, getting out isn’t easy. It is frightening. It is terrifying. It is crazy-making…especially when children are involved.

 

Yesterday at church, after the confession of sins, we prayed a simple prayer that brought me to tears. As I prayed, I thought especially of the women (and men) stuck in the middle of fear, panic, and heartache:

 

“O God, from you comes all holy desires, all good counsel, and all just works. Give to us, your servants, the peace which the world cannot give, that our hearts may be set to your commandments; and also that we, being defended from the fear of our enemies, may live in peace and quietness, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.”

 

Friends: When someone is stuck in an abusive relationship, it can be hard to see God. Either she clings to God, or she deems God not with us. And yet, God is. God is with us through the hands and feet of those who live in Love. God is with us through the moments of peace that come through clandestine meetings at a coffee shop or at firepits in the fall. God is with us each time we are able to stand up to a threat, each time we are able to stand our ground, each time we find the courage to speak. And yet. God is bigger than even those things and God provides peace, and quiet, and defense from our enemies in ways that we cannot explain.

 

I don’t understand abuse. I don’t understand why God allows the evil to prosper and the righteous to suffer. I don’t understand how long someone must endure before making it to the other side.

 

All I know is that I feel more compelled than ever to pray both for the peace that the world cannot give and for defense from fear…for those whom I know, living in fear…and for those whom I don’t know, living in silence.

 

Oh, God, grant that we may be peace, strength, and quiet to those in need. And grant that all who are suffering or recovering from the hands and words of abuse know that they do not have to suffer or recover alone. Do something big in their lives today. Somehow. Someway. Please. Through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen.

Love Grows Here

 

A couple of days ago, I had the opportunity to see a friend whom I hadn’t seen in over a decade. As she welcomed me into her home, she greeted me with a hug and a smile and exclaimed, “Pee Wee!” Pee Wee was my childhood nickname, but I’m pretty sure that she, Allison, was the only person who ever used the name! 😊

 

Allison and I sat around the kitchen table and caught up for awhile, and then she gave me a brief tour of her house. After the tour, we settled into the comfy couch and chairs in the living area, and that’s when I noticed a chalkboard sign that simply read, “Love Grows Here.”

 

Immediately, I began to sing…and Allison began to sing with me.

 

Allison and I grew up together in the small town of Tabor City, NC. We went to school and church together, did band and piano together, spent time at each other’s houses together, and were, in many regards, the best of friends. To this day, I credit Allison with teaching me to sing alto while standing in church on Sunday mornings.

 

But I usually sang soprano. And I sang a lot. Allison did, too. We were both in the youth choir at Tabor City Baptist Church, and the youth choir was very active. In fact, the youth choir was the worship leadership for Sunday night worship services at the church. We sat in the choir loft and sang an anthem every week. I still remember many of the anthems we sang…

 

None better than “Love Grows Here.”

 

“Love Grows Here” was the youth choir stand-by anthem for years. My sister sang it. My brother sang it. I sang it. And we all loved it because it was so simple and pretty.

 

Evidently, Allison loved it, too, because when I began to sing at her house, she began to sing with me. And when we moved to the piano, we both continued to sing—Allison singing alto, me singing soprano--and we both remembered the entire thing as if it were just yesterday that we were standing in the choir loft at Tabor City Baptist Church.

 

“Take a look around you, tell me what you see. People here to worship the Lord, just like you and me. Some have come with gladness, some have come with fear, but all have come because they know that love grows here.

 

Yes, love grows here and all of us can share the wonder and joy that it can bring. For God is near, teaching us to care, and showing our hearts how to sing.

 

Some of us are lonely, some have many friends. Some lives just beginning, some are near the end. Yet we come together, knowing He is near, once again reminding us that love grows here.”

 

Music is powerful, friends. Share memories are powerful, too. Today, let us thank God for both, and for the beauty of friends.

 

Oh God, thank you for the power of music to speak to our souls and to plant itself into the very foundation of our being. Thank you for shared memories—for laughter, for tears, for ridiculous nicknames, and formational moments that will never be forgotten. And thank you, God, especially, for friends—for both lifelong and seasonal friends who help make us who we are. Thank you, God. Thank you. Amen.

Practices

 

It’s become a practice,

This black-out poetry.

I wrote my first poem a month ago

And I haven’t missed a day since.

I’ve written at school,

In Florida,

In Charleston,

At the beach,

In Asheville,

At Starbucks,

And at home.

I’ve written one poem on some days.

I’ve written seven on others.

It’s a practice in mindfulness, really--

In being completely present with both the text and myself,

Seeing what words emerge and

Trying to craft them into something beautiful,

Or funny, or sad.

I’ve laughed.

I’ve cried.

I’ve felt happy.

I’ve felt sick.

Some poems have been autobiographical.

Some have been about friends.

Some have been about no one in particular,

Imaginary people,

But people who wanted to be heard nonetheless.

 

Sometimes we need daily practices in our lives in order to provide structure and routine.

 

Sometimes we need to make ourselves do things that we sometimes don’t want to do because we know that, in the end, it is good for us.

 

What practices do you have in your life? What structures and routines have you adopted to carry you through your days?

 

Practices can come and practices can go. But practices need to be in place to help us grow.

 

Dear God: Help us to adopt practices that grow us spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. Amen.

Gallery of Abandoned Inspiration

 

I have a sign now, so it’s official:

The Gallery of Abandoned Inspiration is open for visitors!

(If you don’t mind the fact that it’s in my bathroom.)

 

I started the gallery a few years ago after noticing original art work for sale at a thrift store.

I felt bad for the work.

I felt sad knowing that someone had spent a good amount of time painting it,

Only to have it abandoned.

So I bought it.

And then I started scooping up more pieces of abandoned, original artwork

Until I had enough to fill my bathroom.

(Don’t worry, I didn’t buy any pieces clearly from a wine and design.)

 

Two weeks ago,

Amelia the Niece and I went to a thrift store for the first time since Covid.

As I looked through the art,

I found a small hand-painted piece in an embroidery hoop.

It was $1.

Amelia thought it was ugly.

I thought it needed to come home with me.

After all, I didn’t have a piece in an embroidery hoop!

 

Once I got the piece hung in the gallery,

Amelia agreed that it belonged.

She also volunteered to make me an official

“Gallery of Abandoned Inspiration” sign

While at art camp the next week.

 

I thought she’d forget.

 

I was wrong.

 

Amelia wood-burned a sign for me

And then added colors for dramatic effect.

She presented me with the sign last night in her living room.

It was a nice presentation ceremony.

 

What is something nice that someone has done for you lately?

(or)

What is something that you have rescued from abandonment?

 

Please share.

I’d love to hear.

And I’d love to give you a tour of my gallery.

Due to the location of the gallery, though,

Appointments ARE necessary 😊.