Random Tear Shedding

If we’re ever talking in-person and my eyes suddenly fill with tears, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m emotional; it’s just something that my eyes do!

 

It happened yesterday at church while talking about an upcoming lake trip. I was talking to my choir director, telling her that I wouldn’t be at church one Sunday, when suddenly my eyes filled with tears. I wasn’t sad. Yet there I was with tears filling my eyes, very conscious of the fact that my choir director was probably wondering why I was so emotionally invested in the conversation.

 

What can I say? My eyes like to cry! Sometimes for no reason…but sometimes for good reason as well.

 

Like a moment of conviction during the prayer of confession:

 

“We have sinned against you….by what we have done and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.”

 

Over the past several years, I have been learning to treat myself with grace, patience, and compassion. I have been learning not to judge myself so harshly and always to leave room for growth. Yesterday, I was convicted that my “neighbors,” amongst others, are my students. And if I am to love my students as I love myself, then I must treat them—even the most annoying of them—with grace, patience, and compassion, and with the belief that there is always room for growth.

 

Or a moment of frustration during the New Testament reading:

 

“…Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for the orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” James 1:27

 

What is it going to take for the “religious” to realize that our faith in action is not solely about individual moral perfection and judgment but about living in community and taking care of one another, especially the least of these, with words, deed, and action?

 

Or a moment of humility during the prayers of the people:

 

“We pray for this congregation, especially those beginning a new school year. Empower teachers, staff, and school administrators. Guide students in their learning and development.”

 

There are people all across the country praying for me, as a teacher, and for my students. How humbling is that? Even as I write this, my eyes are filled with tears again.

 

But, yes. If we’re talking in person and my eyes suddenly fill with tears, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m emotional; it’s just something that my eyes do! And even if we ARE talking about something emotional and I begin to cry, don’t worry: You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just me being me. And I’m learning that that is okay. And it’s okay for my neighbor, too.

 

God: Thank you for loving us as we are, random tear-shedding and all. And thank you for the conviction, frustration, and humility that truly move us. Amen.

After The Last Tear Falls

 I found some old mix CDs last week.

 

I’ve been listening to them on my way to and from work.

 

It’s interesting to see what songs were important to me at various points in my life.

 

It’s as if the CDs are markers of a life gone by.

 

This morning, I heard a song that I hadn’t heard in years.

 

It made me cry.

 

In a time when stress and tension are palpable, it is nice to be reminded that, after it’s all said and done, there is love.

 

May you feel that reminder today, friend.

 

There is love.

 

Always, there is love.

 

-----

 

After The Last Tear Falls by Andrew Peterson

 

After the last tear falls
After the last secret's told
After the last bullet tears through flesh and bone
After the last child starves
And the last girl walks the boulevard
After the last year that's just too hard

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

After the last disgrace
After the last lie to save some face
After the last brutal jab from a poison tongue
After the last dirty politician
After the last meal down at the mission
After the last lonely night in prison

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We'll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all
And we'll look back on these tears as old tales

'Cause after the last plan fails
After the last siren wails
After the last young husband sails off to join the war
After the last "this marriage is over"
After the last young girl's innocence is stolen
After the last years of silence that won't let a heart open

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

Patronus vs. Dementor

 

Friends: What if we each declared that we were choosing Patronuses over Dementors?

 

In the Harry Potter series, a Patronus is a light guardian that acts as a shield between a person and a Dementor. A Dementor is a dark creature who sucks out happiness and generates feelings of depression and despair in any person close to it.

 

Yes. These characters are fictional, but aren’t they found in real life, too?

 

Aren’t there forces that suck out happiness and create feelings of depression and despair? And aren’t there other forces that protect against that?

 

Take Jesus, for example. Jesus declares himself the light of the world—the dispelling force against darkness…

 

Sometimes late at night, I lie in bed and imagine myself walking through the hallways of my school. Jesus is walking beside me, a Patronus in and of himself, yet he is also casting a Patronus, or maybe it’s me casting the Patronus, in the form of a powerful, yet graceful, horse. The Patronus moves up and down the hallways, in and out of classrooms, and pushes out Dementors. Light invades darkness and leaves its essence behind. Then we walk to my classroom where Jesus sets up camp for the night. He illegally builds a fire in the middle of my room, and spends the night there to keep the room safe and warm until I am able to return.

 

A Patronus. Not a dementor…

 

God: I’m mixing real life with fantasy here. But help us to choose Patronuses over Dementors…because I think if we did, then this world would be a much, much better place. Amen.     

Imposter Syndrome

 

Me: I feel like a crappy teacher. I don’t know where the feeling has come from. But it’s so real. And it makes me doubt everything I have ever done in my classroom.

 

Friend: You are in a sad place. Imposter syndrome—you know that one?

 

Me: No.

 

Friend: It’s feeling like a fraud. Like you have gotten to where you are based on luck or error and that you aren’t actually good at what you do. You’re an imposter.

 

Me: Yeh. I can see that.

 

Friend: It’s common. Especially in women.  Most common in women of color. It usually comes and goes. I get it, too.

 

Me: You do?

 

Friend: Definitely.

 

Me: You’re definitely good at what you do.

 

Friend: Yeah. And so are you.

 

Me: Thank you.

 

Friend: It’s just a new year. It makes us stressed and worried and feel that we aren’t good enough. But we are. Dammit!

 

Me: Dammit!

 

Friend: I thought it might help to know that you aren’t alone in those feelings.

 

Me: Thank you.

 

Dear God: For all who are dealing with imposter syndrome—especially teachers returning to work in a time of palpable stress and anxiety—have mercy. Help us each to know that we are not alone and that you have gifted us to do the work that you have called us to do. Help us always to do our best and to trust that our best is good enough—even when we cannot see. I am, because You Are. Thank you. Amen.

Tired

 

I am tired.

Bone-weary tired.

Not for lack of sleep.

But for lack of decency.

I am tired of lives being toyed with in the name of political freedom.

I am tired of lives being damned in the name of a God that I know as Love.

I am tired of lives standing in opposition with one another to the point of no hearing.

I am tired of lives standing firmly on sinking sand.

I am tired of judging and being judged.

I am tired of fear, anxiety, fighting, sickness, and heartache that permeate the world and make themselves known with every thought and breath.

 

Yesterday, the dam of my tears burst unexpectedly and

I wept.

 

I wonder if Jesus wept like me when

He wept.

 

For a broken world,

For broken hearts,

For broken souls,

For broken realities that

Are so very tiring.

 

Oh God,

You promised rest for the weary and

Peace for the downhearted.

Grant rest to those who pray this prayer of tired with me today,

And grant peace to those who are broken beyond words.

I don’t know how.

I can’t see a way.

But You can.

Because You are.

Amen.

Prayer for Teachers

 

Will you join me in praying for teachers during the 2021-2022 School Year? The past two years have been challenging. This year is bound to be the same.

 

Please pray for:

 

1)     Adaptability – The ability to adjust to whatever comes our way.

 

2)     Personal Discipline—The ability to be faithful in attendance and dedication to our call.

 

3)     Eagerness—The ability to want to grow into the best versions of ourselves.

 

4)     Goals—The ability to set and accomplish individual and grade/subject specific goals.

 

5)     Perseverance—The ability to keep moving forward with stamina and grace.

What would you like to add to the list? Please comment below to share your prayer for teachers today.

Encouragement and Sacrifice

 

Yes. That was me crying as I watched the end of the Men’s Olympic Marathon.

 

True. I was happy for the defending gold medalist, Eliud Kichoge of Team Kenya. But I was crying because of an exchange between the two men who ended up claiming the silver and bronze medals.

 

Abdi Nageeye of Team Netherlands and Bashir Abdi of Team Belgium had run with the front pack for the entirety of the race. Toward the end of the race, the pack had dwindled to three, with the winner pulling away into a race of his own, and all other runners falling behind. The third runner in the pack, Lawrence Cherono of Team Kenya, led the pack until the finish line was in sight.

 

At that time, Nageeye made his move. Instead of doing it alone, though, Nageeye turned to his friend Abdi and motioned for Abdi to come with him. He encouraged Abdi to give it his all, and together, exhausted but working in tandem, they overtook Cherono and won the silver and bronze medals.

 

At the end of the race, they embraced with a long hug of disbelief and celebration…and then Kichoge came to rejoice with them.

 

It was really a beautiful sight.

 

In a time when more and more people are working to defend and uphold individual rights, I think that Nageeye’s example of encouragement is one that we should follow. Nageeye could have forged ahead on his own. He could have looked after himself to the exclusion of others and no one would have faulted him for his push for a medal. Yet instead, he decided to take his friend with him. He wanted to see his friend on the podium beside him, so he pushed and pulled and cheered until his friend came alongside him. No doubt, it would have been easier for Nageeye to run straight ahead, alone, but he didn’t choose to do that. He chose self-sacrifice, encouragement, and friendship instead.

 

In yesterday’s New Testament reading from Ephesians, we read: Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore, be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God (Ephesians 4:31-5:2).  

 

Jesus did not choose to go at life alone. He chose community. God does not exist as one person. God is Trinity God, three in one, a community of love that exists within God’s self. We are, therefore, to be imitators of God, living in community with one another, looking out for the good of all, rather than working to protect the rights and successes of one.

 

God: We, your people, have allowed this world, this sickness, these politicians and masks and vaccinations, to push us into bitterness, wrath, anger, wrangling, slander, and malice. Forgive us. Help us to live as imitators of you, in community with one another, extending kindness and encouragement and self-sacrifice to all, for the sake of Your Presence in this world, your sacrificing presence, Jesus, unselfish, always giving, always extending a hand to cheer on a friend. Amen. 

Gem Mining Part Two

 

On Monday, I wrote about an unpleasant gem mining experience that I had last week.

 

What I didn’t write was that I went gem mining a second time and had a much better experience.

 

During the first gem mining experience, I gashed my leg open. I was worried about my leg for the entirety of the experience and to make matters worse, I barely found any gems. I’d paid for the Quartz Bucket,, but all I kept sifting through was clay-dirt, and it was messy…and discouraging…until the bottom of the bucket when a few large gems appeared.

 

So I decided to give it another shot on my way home. That time, I paid for the Super Bucket. It was actually less expensive than the Quartz Bucket because it was filled with rocks of lesser value, but man was it satisfying! I found gems in every scoop and had to get three Ziploc bags to hold all of my treasures!

 

I was excited about the possibility of going home and getting out my tumbler. I knew that the gems would polish well, and then…well…that’s the thing. What would I do with them next? I had no idea.

 

And this is when I realized something: Unless you are a crafts-person searching for raw materials, gem mining is about instant gratification. It’s about the thrill of finding something pretty and claiming it as your own.

 

I actually shared this realization with three different people at the gem mine. They wanted to know which bucket to get for their children, so I suggested the Super Bucket. I told them that the rocks in the Super Bucket were not worth much but that they would find lots of rocks in every scoop. And isn’t that what children want?

 

And, truthfully, isn’t that what I wanted, too?

 

Yes. I was discouraged about my leg during the first gem mining experience. But if I’m honest, I was more discouraged that I wasn’t finding lots of pretty things. I’d paid my money. I thought that I was entitled to lots of rocks. Truthfully, I probably got my money’s worth out of the first bucket. I found pieces large enough to get cut and polished if I so chose. And yet, I was pouty because I didn’t find “more.”

 

Then, the second time, I found “more,” and I was thrilled! The rocks weren’t big and nice, yet they provided the instant gratification that I didn’t know I needed…and so I walked away a much happier gem-miner.

 

I’m not sure what to make of this realization. Is it good or bad? Is it right or wrong? Is it somewhere in between?

 

God: Forgive us when we just want more. But thank you for the joy that we feel when we find pretty things. Amen. 

Gem Mining Part One

 I spent last week leading worship at a children’s church camp. I’ve led worship for this camp for 14 of the past 15 years, and I’ve always considered it a blessing to be able to go. It’s a vacation for me…with the opportunity to do what I love to do best: plan and lead worship. 

Over the years, in addition to our Bible studies, campfires, and worship services, we’ve played in creeks, gone tubing, seen Horn in the West, visited Tweetsie Railroad, gone gem mining, and been banana-boating. When the group doesn’t go gem mining, I usually take an afternoon and go myself. This year was no exception…except in the experience that I had. 

Usually, when I go gem mining, I don’t get hurt. But this year, thanks to a staple in the wooden bench, I gashed my leg open and had to ask for the first-aid kit. I had orange clay all over my hands, but I did my best to clean the wound and bandage it. It wasn’t deep enough for stitches, but it was deep enough to bleed for a little while. So, for the rest of the experience at the gem mine, I was worried about my leg while sitting in disbelief that I was the only who had cut myself on the staples. I insisted that the workers do something about the staples before I left, and they did, but only after I asked three times. Needless to say, I didn’t have a very good time.

Nonetheless, I found a few gems. Not many. But enough to give to the campers when I got back to camp. 

I had planned to show them the uncut gems and connect them to our lives before we encounter the love of Christ and the redemptive work that follows. I had planned to explain how the gems are rough around the edges until they are cut and polished. I had planned to explain how the gems were beautiful in their very existence but they would be even more beautiful in the hands of a master crafts-person.

But then I cut my leg. 

I literally shed my blood while searching for the gems. 

And so I thought: These gems will not be worth much to the campers because they are so small and rough, but I hope that they will value them because of the intention behind them, the effort in finding them, and the blood shed in retrieving them. 

Friends: We are worth something in our very existence, in our being beloved children of God. But how much more is our value because of the intention of Jesus’ life, the effort he put in living it, and the blood he shed in dying?

I don’t know if the campers fully understood what I was trying to say when I presented them each with a small amethyst. But I know that they liked them. And I pray that when they look at them, they will find value in remembering where they came from and the Love that gave them. 

God: Help us to know and remember our worth and value in You. Always. Amen.