Matthew

 

I went to visit my aunt in Florida last week. 

For years, I’d heard about her neighbors, Isabella and Matthew, but I’d never met them until this trip. 

A few years ago, Matthew had a stroke. 

He lost his ability to speak. 

He understands perfectly. 

He moves perfectly. 

He is in good health. 

His voice is just stuck. 

He can’t get out his words. 

 

He’s such a kind man. 

Such a hospitable man. 

He smiled and engaged in conversation the whole time we were there.

He pantomimed his thoughts. 

He joked with Isabella. 

His voice was just stuck. 

He couldn’t get out his words. 

 

My aunt said she’d like to reach inside and pull the words out of him. 

I agree. 

I’d like to reach inside and bust the dam and watch all of his words rush out and overwhelm the room with sound. 

 

But alas.  

The stroke paralyzed his vocal cords. 

They can’t be fixed. 

His voice is just stuck. 

He can’t get his words out. 

 

It makes me sad. 

 

But it also makes me determined

To use my voice for good

And not to take it for granted. 

I’ll do it for Matthew. 

Maybe you can too. 

 

Amen. 

A Roller Coaster Ride

 

I went to Carowinds with a 10-year-old last week. 

Being the somewhat fearless daredevil that she is, 

She immediately ran to the tallest and fastest roller coaster in the park. 

Because we had fast passes, we didn’t have to wait in line. 

Because we didn’t have to wait in line, 

I didn’t have time to prepare her for what she was going to experience. 

It was her first roller coaster. 

She didn’t know that she would feel like she was going to die when going down that first hill. 

She didn’t know that screaming helped. 

She didn’t know that she’d feel like she couldn’t breathe. 

She didn’t know that she’d be okay. 

Needless to say, 

When we finished the ride, she was crying. 

 

She didn’t ride another roller coaster until the end of the day. 

She wanted to face her fear,

And she did it on another super high, super fast coaster. 

This time, I prepared her for what she’d feel. 

I told her that she would feel kind of scared on that first downhill drop but that she’d be okay. 

I also told her that it helped to scream. 

And boy did she scream! 

She screamed at the top of her lungs for the entire ride. 

She screamed so loud that other people on the ride turned to see who was screaming. 

While they looked, I held my ear. 

It literally hurt from her screams. 

But. 

She did it! 

And she got off that roller coaster with a huge grin on her face. 

 

We can’t always be prepared for the ups and downs of life. 

Sometimes they happen and catch us off guard and we end up in tears. 

But sometimes, 

Thanks to a friend or family member or teacher or a book or Podcast or television show, 

We can garner just enough knowledge to make the ups and downs more manageable and we end up conquering our fears. 

 

May you gently offer wisdom to someone today 

And may you receive wisdom in return. 

And if you feel like you’re falling and you wonder if you’re going to survive, 

You will. 

Scream as you’re able. 

And breathe. 

 

Amen. 

Not The White House Or Its Lawn

 

I share my blackout poetry with a handful of friends each day. 

I tend to write about two main topics:

Relationships or God. 

One of my readers doesn’t believe in God, but she knows where my faith lies and still willingly reads my poetry. 

 

One day last week, 

I sent the poem:

“I see God in this place.”

 

My friend’s immediate response was:

“If you do 

It’s not the White House or its lawn.”

 

Her words have stuck with me for days.

 

As writer Jonathan Tobias wrote on June 14:

 

“Just in case there's any doubt, the Christian church, in its authentic tradition, has long opposed gladitorial combat and anything like it.

 

The early Church opposed gladiatorial combat because Christians knew that violence staged as entertainment deforms the soul. The arena taught Rome to turn human pain into public pleasure, and the Church, at its best, said no: no human being is made for bloodlust, humiliation, or spectacle.

 

That ancient warning still matters. When power presents violence as a show, Christians should be among the first to remember that cruelty is not strength, domination is not justice, and the image of God is never a prop.”

 

For all my friend doesn’t know about God,

She knows when God is not being glorified. 

For all my friend doesn’t know about following Christ,

She knows when someone is not following in the ways of Christ’s love. 

For all my friend has not known of the body of Christ, 

She knows when someone is living a life of pretense. 

For all my friend has not experienced of God’s peace,

She knows when someone is using God’s name for power. 

 

So yes, 

Her words stopped me in my tracks 

And made me grieve what has come from the loudest voices of the 21st Century American gospel—

Those voices that hail and honor 

Power

Masculinity 

Individualism

Entertainment 

Suffering 

Pleasure and 

Victory

Over the way of Christ that is 

Humility,

Community, 

And working together to take care of the 

Poor,

Widows, and 

Outcasts. 

 

Yes Jesus suffered. 

Yes we believe in victory over death. 

But the way of Christ is not pretense. 

It’s not hypocrisy. 

And it’s certainly not confusion, manipulation, and lies. 

 

For all my friend doesn’t believe about God, 

She believes enough to know that the Christianity she’s seeing in 21st Century America is something of which she wants no part. 

 

“It’s not the White House or its lawn,”

she responded. 

 

Oh God, forgive us. 

And help us to do better than this. 

 

Amen

Cap Guns

 

Here’s something you’d probably never guess about me: 

I used to love playing with cap guns. 

I can remember building full barricades and developing elaborate plans of attack on my enemies in a game of sport. 

I had a few different cap guns, holsters, and two types of ammunition.

My cap gun of choice was my little black and white one. 

I often wonder what happened to that little toy… 

Although I’m glad I don’t have it anymore because I want nothing to do with those weapons,

Real or pretend. 

The sight scares me. 

The sound scares me. 

The impact scares me. 

The power scares me. 

So I’d rather steer clear, 

Even in shows. 

 

…

 

A ten year old handed me a water gun the other day. 

I refused to shoot her in the face or anywhere near her head. 

Instead, I aimed over her body all together so that the water simply rained on her. 

There was no violent noise. 

There was no pretend injury or death. 

There was just water, 

Softly sprayed,

Sprinkling down, 

With no collateral damage whatsoever. 

 

I thought, 

“If only all the weapons in this world were toy water guns.”

I know. It’s not realistic. 

Hunters and all. 

But I want to hope for all the 10-year-olds in the world. 

 

I want to believe there is a better way that doesn’t involved violence, 

Real or pretend. 

 

Amen. 

Why Even Bother?

 

According to the Ecclesiast, there is nothing new under the sun. 

And the Ecclesiast is right. 

We are dealing with the same issues now that we have dealt with throughout history. 

Our technology is just different. 

And the rate at which we garner information, or misinformation, is faster than ever. 

 

That being said, the SBC’s vote to limit women’s authority from the pulpit last week is nothing new. 

For the past forty years, the SBC has been systematically working to limit women’s authority from the pulpit. 

So why make a big deal of it now? 

Why give thought to it at all? 

 

Because every time the SBC does something like limit women’s authority, 

In a judgmental way, 

In a way that does not allow for God to call whom God desires, 

It gives negative light and negative press to Christianity and those who live in a gospel not of division but of love. 

Their voice is the loudest and it’s demoralizing and demeaning, and it pushes people away from what could be life-changing truth. 

 

And so we must affirm our truth to try to make our voices just as loud. 

And we must try to do something to fight back from blow after blow after blow, 

Knowing that there may be nothing we can do to change hatred or hostility, 

But believing that maybe, somehow, we can influence one person who may not agree with the system in which they are stuck for reasons that are too complicated to unpack without serious time, therapy, prayer, and healing from the Holy Spirit.

 

The SBC has come to a point where it does very little to help perpetuate the gospel that is the freedom and grace of Jesus Christ, but spends its time on issues of the law that divide.

It does very little proclaim that the Kingdom of God has come near in the life and works of Jesus Christ, and 

It does very little to share the gospel of healing, restoration, and reconciliation that Jesus himself bid his disciples share with the world. 

And yet their voice is the loudest, and they are doing real harm, and so we have to make our voices louder.

 

This isn’t a matter of right and wrong. 

 

It’s not even a matter of belief that women can or cannot fill the pulpit.

God is big enough for theological differences and scriptural interpretations. 

 

It’s a matter of arrogance, certainty, human power, judgment, individualism, and control being the face of the gospel of Jesus Christ 

When the gospel of Jesus Christ is actually humility, mystery, God’s power, grace, community and freedom. 

The gospel of Jesus Christ is salvation, not damnation. 

 

People are hungering for the good news of Christ. 

People are hungering for love, grace, freedom, belonging, and salvation in this world.

 

So may we be a people who use our voices and our own authority given as followers of the Christ who has empowered us to go, 

To share that good news as loudly and confidently as we can, 

Offering a countercultural way in this never changing world that tries to place authority on man instead of God. 

 

Amen. 

Remembering and Letting Go

 

I handed over around 30 T-shirts yesterday.

T-shirts that were well-worn and well-loved.

T-shirts that were faded and T-shirts with holes.

T-shirts that I bought and T-shirts that were given to me.

T-shirts that remember times that are over but will always be part of me,

Good or bad.

 

I’m one of those people who attach meaning to objects,

So when trying to decide whether to keep or throw something away,

I have to decide about the memory as well.

And that’s hard. 

Because I don’t want to forget.

Yet I can’t keep holding on to so much stuff.

Holding on is not a good steward of physical space or, 

I’m learning,

Mental space.

Barb the Great often says that things are living rent free at her head.

 

We are the sum of our parts, 

The combination of all of the days, experiences, and people of our past. 

Part of me wants to remember all of those parts, 

Yet part of me wants to free up some head and heart space for all that is to come.

Part of me knows that most things are just for a season,

Yet part of me has trouble moving through those seasons.

 

And so going through my wardrobe and moving out things as simple as T-shirts is a spiritual act for me.

It’s a wrestling act.

It’s Jacob wrestling with the angel. 

It’s a fight. 

It’s back-and-forth.

It’s not easy.

But in the end, Jacob is blessed.

And in the end, when I have more space in my closet and mind for things that are relevant in my life right now, I am blessed too. 

 

I wish I could say I moved the T-shirts out completely.

But I did not.

There are a handful that are going to Goodwill,

But most of them went to Heidi the Librarian who is going to make a T-shirt quilt for me. 

I have six T-shirt quilts.

I helped make two or three of them.

Memories come flooding back whenever I get them out and look at them.

But that’s only when I want to, and it’s not on a regular basis,

And, then, it is the remembering that is the spiritual act.

 

Oh God, 

Help us as we walk the fine line of remembering and letting go, 

Especially when it comes attached to stuff. 

Help us to be good stewards of our space, time, and resources, 

And help us to make difficult decisions. 

Some things are with us forever, 

Regardless of physical reminders. 

Help us to honor those parts of ourselves while letting go of whatever binds. 

Provide for us all that we need and help us to discern what is the rest, 

To share that rest with community, 

And then truly to rest in you. 

Amen.