A Dream Come True

 

My mom has been playing piano for 73 years.

She started lessons when she was 8

And been playing ever since.

 

For as long as I can remember,

Daily piano playing has been part of my mom’s life.

I remember the Story and Clark in the dining room of the parsonage in Tabor City,

I remember it in the living room at the house on Forest Avenue, and

I remember it in the living room of the parsonage in Bunnlevel.

I remember getting the Yamaha Baby Grand when we moved into our current house,

And it is her joy to play it.

 

Two years ago this winter,

My mom invited a family friend into the house with his recording equipment.

Together, they recorded 17 of her favorite songs.

Because of various life circumstances,

Nothing happened with those 17 songs until a couple of months ago…

When the wheels of producing a CD finally began to turn.

 

With the help of my sister and another family friend,

My mom produced a very professional, top-notch CD.

My mom’s dream was to gift this CD to friends and family members

Who have encouraged her along the way.

 

Her dream came true yesterday when she gave away 30 physical CDs

And shared the web address to her online playlist with many others.   

 

I think what’s so special about my mom’s playing is that it’s not just playing.

It’s her heart.

And she has now shared that heart with the world,

 

To say that I am proud is an understatement.

I know of my mom’s hard work and her dedication to the craft,

And I know that she considers playing piano her highest act of worship.

 

I am blessed beyond measure to be the beneficiary of my mom’s practice,

And I consider it pure joy to have witnessed her concert yesterday

And to have seen the tears of humility and gratitude stream down her face.

 

…

 

One of my mom’s shirt’s says:

God grant me the serenity to accept things I cannot change,

Courage to change things when I can, and

Wisdom to know when to play the piano.

 

May I be so wise as my mom,

And use my talents for the betterment of others

And building of God’s kin-dom of Love.

 

Amen.

Cowering in Fear

Don’t let her fool you. 

Annie is not a sweet cat. 

By all outward appearances, she appears sweet. 

She’s pretty and fluffy and soft and plump.

She even has moments where she’s very loving and 

Requests attention.

But in her nature is an attack cat.

I think her early days as a single, street mom were all about survival 

And I don’t think that three years of being the queen of the household has taken that out of her. 

 

On Sunday morning, I heard a skirmish. 

I knew it was the cats. 

Then I heard a bang. 

I knew that one of them had knocked something down.

I fell back asleep. 

When I got up, I noticed that the laundry basket was lying on the floor in the bathroom.

I remembered the earlier noises

At the same moment that I noticed a tail sticking out from behind the bathroom door.

Sigma was hiding behind the bathroom door, 

Cowering in fear.

 

I put the pieces together. 

Annie had chased Sigma upstairs. 

Sigma had tried to climb the laundry basket to get away from his attacker. 

The laundry basket had fallen and scared both cats. 

Sigma hid behind the bathroom door while Annie nonchalantly went and sat at the top of the stairs, 

Taking her place of authority 

And viewing her queendom. 

 

Feeling more secure with me in the room,

Sigma came out from behind the door and explored the bathroom.

A few moments later, I picked him up and carried him past Annie

So that he could be free from Annie’s jail.

 

I think sometimes we assume that people are nice, or doing okay,

Because outward appearances show us as much.

But, like Annie, insides are scarred by wounds,

Or simply a nature,

We just don’t see…

Until they say explode,

Fall apart,

Say something mean,

Or attack,

Literally or figuratively,

And leave us wondering what just happened.

 

I don’t want to be someone who doubts the authenticity of everyone and everything I see,

But I also don’t want to be someone who forgets that people and situations aren’t always as they appear.

 

I want to be someone who sees people for all of who they are—

Even when it’s hard—

And who knows how to respond to what I see.  

 

Sometimes with a love that stays—

Like my love for Annie.

Sometimes with a love that walks away.

Sometimes with a love that reports to DSS or CPS.

Sometimes with a love that fights back.

Sometimes with a love that goes to therapy.

Sometimes with a love that prays.

Sometimes with a love that harbors the refugee.

Sometimes with a love that sets one free,

Like I did with Sigma.

Sometimes with a love that chooses to put disbelief aside

And allows uncomfortable reality to settle in and

Grief to begin.

Sometimes with a love that simply cries.

 

Oh God: Give us the wisdom and discernment to know and love others for all of who they are…even if there are parts unseen…especially if there are parts unseen. Amen.

Gracious

I was recently talking to an old Christian camp friend about the

Hot button issues of

Immigration

The LGBTQ+ Community

Pro-life vs. Pro-choice policies

Racism

And

Sexism.

Fun, huh?

 

She made a comment that brought tears to my eyes.

She said:

These are the things my husband and I talk about.

We wonder aloud at how 160+ years ago,

The church was on the wrong side of slavery and

Ask ourselves if given a comparable space and distance,

We might discover that we’re on the wrong side of things now.

We finally settle on this thought:

When we get to heaven,

We would rather hear God say,

“You thought me more gracious than I am.”

Than

“You thought me more harsh than I am.”

 

I don’t know about you,

But in serving a God who deems himself “love,”

And throughout scripture welcomes the outcast

And loves the unloveable,

I would much rather be more gracious than I ought

Than be more harsh than I should.

 

The gospel of Jesus Christ is one of life-giving freedom.

We are saved from fear and damnation, and

Are given a glimpse of eternal life…

May we live as though we’ve been set free to love.

May we live as though God so loved the world.

 

Amen.

Mistake

 

I made a mistake yesterday.

I asked two political questions.

I wasn’t trying to be divisive.

I was genuinely curious as to the answers to my questions.

But both questions garnered answers that were mean-spirited

And I found friends being questioned and attacked for no good reason,

So I took both posts down.

 

I was reminded of a couple of things, though.

 

There are vastly different definitions of Christian in America today.

There is one version of Christian that holds to holiness, purity, and righteousness.

This version is very serious about morality and usually takes scripture literally.

There is another version of Christian that holds to love, grace, and forgiveness.

This version is very serious about welcoming people to Christ’s table and takes scripture as God’s story that is continuing to unfold.

Both are very committed to their faith and their understanding of God.

And while both believe that “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son so that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life,”

How they interpret that verse and idea is not the same.

 

We, as an American society, have lost the ability to have conversations about hard things.

We resort to name calling and hurl insults at people we’ve never met

And then we assume that the other person is an idiot.

We are so certain that we are right and that “they” are wrong

That we cannot agree to disagree and to treat people with dignity and respect.

We all have thoughts.

We all have opinions.

There are many things about which there is no absolute right or wrong.

But dignity and respect, treating people as human beings,

Is not negotiable.

Life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness is not negotiable.

Or it shouldn’t be.

But we’ve made it so.

 

Sometimes it all feels like too much.

Sometimes I feel defeated.

I did yesterday.

Instead of napping,

I found myself on my knees,

Kneeling beside my bed,

Praying with tears

Because I didn’t have words.

 

Help, was all I knew to say.

Help free us from the fear

That you just might

Love us all.

 

Amen.

Prayer For Peace

 

Tamara played a version of “Make Me A Channel of Your Peace”

For the prelude yesterday morning.

It was based on the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi:

 

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

 

I’ve sung two versions of this song in my life.

I wrote one for a friend’s ordination

And I arranged one for a church.

Both the friend and the church are in my past now,

But the songs are still in my head.

I’m glad.

Maybe if I start singing them again,

Then they’ll become self-fulfilling prophecies.

What’s more, maybe if I simply start praying this prayer each day,

Then it will become part of me,

Like the Lord’s Prayer,

And John 3:16.

A Prayer For Those You Love

 

Have you ever wanted to knock some sense into someone you care about?

 

You watch them make poor decision after poor decision

And can’t get them to do any different?

(Or)

You see their beauty and value

But they cannot see it for themselves.

(Or)

You know their sense of self-worth is basically non-existent

And that they just want to be loved.

(Or)

You know that they consider lack of bad treatment, good treatment,

When good treatment is far from how they’re being treated.

(Or)

You know they need to use their voice to stick up for themselves

But their fears and insecurities keep them from doing so.

(And so)

They continue getting hurt and

All you can do is watch it happen because it’s not your place to fight their battles?

 

It’s hard isn’t it?

To respect boundaries.

To watch someone suffer.

To know you can’t “fix” them?

To know your hands are tied until they break and need you to catch them.

 

I spend a lot of time sighing.

I spend a lot of time praying.

I have no idea how prayer works.

But I still pray.

And today I invite you to do the same.

No matter

If you are a fervent pray-er

Or if you have forgotten how to pray,

Simply say your person’s name and trust that

God hears.

I can’t guarantee that anything will immediately change.

But I can guarantee that expending the energy of saying their name

Will add breath and light and life to the world

And that all those things come from God.

 

Guide them,

Protect them,

And keep them safe.

Bless them,

Strengthen them,

And give them peace, oh God.

Amen.

Gospel Centered Worship

 

For most of my life,

The sermon was the most important part of Sunday morning worship. 

Everything led up to the sermon 

And everything ceased shortly after the sermon.

The sermon was determined by whatever was on the pastor’s heart and mind, 

Which could be from the Old or New Testaments, the Psalms, the Gospels,

One verse or a whole passage. 

Sharing the table was reserved for once every three months so that it would remain special. 

Music was programmed for comfort and emotional connection. 

Prayers were said extemporaneously. 

And the pastor, music minister, and choir/praise team were the worship leaders while the congregants were there primarily to listen. 

 

This style of worship is often celebrated for its freedom to allow the Holy Spirit to move.

 

More recently, 

The Gospel has become the most important part of worship. 

The whole service centers around The Word, the central reading of which is the Gospel text. 

We read aloud together a passage from the Old Testament, the Psalms, the New Testament, and the Gospels.

The passages are determined by the Lectionary,

A three-year scripture cycle read by many churches around the world.

The sermon is the first response to the gospel reading and the remainder of the service allows congregants to respond.

Sharing the table occurs every Sunday so that everyone will know they have a place at God’s table of grace.

Music is programmed to coordinate with the Gospel.

Prayers are written and read aloud together.

And the pastor, musicians, and congregants are all involved in leading and participating in worship.

 

This style of worship is often criticized for not allowing the Holy Spirit to move.

 

For most of my life, I fit within the former style of worship.

Now, I do not.

Now, I find my home in the latter,

And I can honestly say that I wish more people could join me there.

Yes, it’s an adjustment.

But there is something to reading scripture together, praying together, confessing sins together, and sharing the table together every Sunday.

Worship becomes less about one person’s thoughts,

And more about God in God’s fullness.

There is something to reading the difficult parts of scripture as well as the ones that comfort and inspire.

There is something to reading prayers for the earth/environment, the world/leaders, the church, the sick/hurting/oppressed, and ourselves.

There is something to seeing the words on the page that really brings congregant home.

The Holy Spirit makes the words alive and

Reminds us that we’re part of something bigger.

It reminds us that we can and should do better.

It reminds us that the gospel of Jesus Christ is so much bigger than we make it.

And it reminds us that we are often the answer to our very own prayers.

 

I am thankful that there are different types and styles of worship.

And I am thankful that God can speak through them all.

But for me, for now, I am most especially thankful

For worship that focuses on the richness of God,

And challenges me to be more like Christ,

In all that I say and do.

 

Amen.

Missed The Point

 

If I read:

 

“No one can tame the tongue—

a restless evil, full of deadly poison.

With it we bless the Lord and Father,

and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God.

From the same mouth come blessing and cursing.

My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so.

James 3:8-10”

 

And identify as Christian,

 

But call people names,

Slander people’s reputations.

Laugh at people’s mistakes,

Dig up past failures,

Make fun of those different than me,

Believe and perpetuate lies, and

Focus on what is wrong with others,

 

Then I have missed the point.

 

God, forgive us when we miss the point.

You have called us to love one another

And to bless those who persecute us.

 

May it be so.

 

Amen.

Heart-Flipping Moment

 

I had a brief moment with Kindergarten today

When my heart flipped.

I was doing some hand-eye coordination activities with sticks

When one of my students,

Whose name I often say

Because he needs a lot of redirecting,

Became fully engaged.

 

I looked down and he was standing right under me.

He had chosen two sticks to match my sticks

And he was following my motions exactly.

In one heart-flipping moment,

We locked eyes,

His little dimple pronounced in concentration,

Smiled,

And nodded at each other in solidarity,

As if all in the world was right,

Because in that moment everything was.

 

In a world where it seems that more goes wrong than right,

May we hold to the heart flipping moments

When all is at peace and

All is well and

Even the most untamed of the

Kindergarten space cadet cats

Is focused

And trying

And succeeding.

 

Amen.