Moments

Sometimes, as a minister, I get to see things in a way that nobody else does. For instance, on Christmas Eve, when the entire congregation lifts its candles up on the last verse of "Silent Night," I see it from the front of the church. I get to see all of the candles go up at the same time.

Or, at funerals, when I go down the row with the family at the graveside, I see the grief - up close and personal.

Last Sunday, I had another unique view. I baptized two middle-school aged boys. I'm the only one that gets to see the face of the baptismal candidate when the go under the water...I'm the only one in the baptistery with them. That just hit me last week - it's a face of total vulnerability (and I always pray that I don't destroy their trust in me by dropping them!), and it's a face of excitement and expectation, and it's a face that is leaving behind everything that is not of God and rising up to everything that is...at least that is our prayer.

That's a moment.

That is the kind of moment that inspires me.

Church can be a lot of administrative details - keeping the database up to date, printing mailing labels, typing and photocopying bulletins, ordering curriculum, buying postage, committee meetings, taking out the garbage, watering the plants, email, voicemail...blah, blah, blah...

And, all of that has to be done...

But, all of that can be, well, less than inspiring.

So, when I get a moment - one of those moments that drips God - I cherish it. It's a gift of this vocation called ministry.

It's funny because I suppose most people would call me an introvert - and I am. But, I don't need my usual space when those moments show up. I can be in them. I can be of them. And, I can be thankful for them.

Books

Over the summer, I borrowed a lot of books from the theological library at Drew. It was such a GREAT library, and really, its influence stretches all the way down to North Carolina with its on-line collection. I am in awe of the number of journals and books that are available with the click of a button...if you are student.

Anyway, I borrowed several books, and although they are not due back until the end of December, the postmaster suggested I ship them mid-November if I was using media mail. So, I copied a few chapters (perfectly legal) and then I put them in a box, taped it up with way more tape than was necessary, and printed off my label.

It may sound silly, but I felt a little like I was shipping off old friends. Those books helped me find inspiration for my project. They sat in my dorm room for a few weeks as a I tried to decide which ones I could leave in New Jersey. And, then they served as my backseat driver on my trip home from New Jersey. Since then, they've kept me company in a box behind my desk (I wanted to keep them all together, because I was afraid of losing one), and I've flipped through them a time or two searching for this or that.

Now, I have a lot more space behind my desk, and they are on their way back home - because they were never permanently mine.

I think there is a sermon in that somewhere.

Avon Walk for Breast Cancer

I did not know what to expect when I registered to walk 39.3 miles in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. All I knew was that my college friend and suite mate was fighting breast cancer. And, a church member was planning to walk in the Avon walk...and it sounded like a challenge, so that's how I got involved.

I started training last summer while I was in New Jersey. As soon as I got back to North Carolina, I realized I needed a better pair of shoes. I went to Fleet Feet in Raleigh to be fitted for a pair of high-mileage shoes and to get some new socks. The socks, I have learned, are key to a blister-free walk! Then, it was game on - we trained throughout the fall - squeezing in 4-8 mile walks during the week and heading out for 16-22 mile walks on the weekends. By the time the Avon Walk arrived, I was confident we could finish.

We got started early Saturday morning. I was in my most comfortable pair of blue jeans, but others wore pink tutu's, pink wigs, pink tights...and almost everyone had a sign on their backs that said, "I walk for...." and then names were written in. All through the day, biker babes and bikers like this guy drove their motorcycles to busy street corners to help us cross without being mowed down by traffic. They had all decorated their bikes and had loud music playing - fun stuff like "Call Me, Maybe" and "Stayin' Alive." At one point, a biker drove by playing the theme from Rocky and waving at us.

The encouragement was phenomenal. A youth group was out in yellow t-shirts and they moved from point to point cheering us on with "Go Walkers," and "You've got this!" and "You're almost there!" I don't think I have been praised that much since I was potty trained. At each rest stop, medical personnel were on hand to deal with blisters - "every blister saves a sister" and to offer ibuprofen for aches and pains. (I took a lot of that!) Volunteers were also standing by to thank us over and over again for walking and to make sure we did not forget to fill our water bottles.

After the halfway point on the first day, we walked through an elementary school yard. All of the windows had been decorated for us! Signs. Posters. And, the sidewalk was covered with chalk drawings. I couldn't believe that the students and teachers took time to decorate like that for complete strangers. They will never know how good we felt as we read their messages. That goes for the neighborhoods, too. Several homes put out signs and tied pink balloons to their mailboxes. And, some families were out with water and snacks.






These ladies were the most vocal with their support. They drove a big white 'sweeper' van with pink streamers all through the day - honking and yelling and picking up walkers who could not finish. They were passionate, I tell you. And, they made us laugh each time they drove by.

After the first day, I soaked my feet in cold water at (upon the advice of my marathon running sister) and then sat on my bed with my feet up until 9 PM. That's when I fell asleep. I woke up on Sunday feeling remarkably rested and ready. The 13.1 miles seemed painless. I think a night of rest helped a lot.

The entire weekend was positive and uplifting - a much needed change in this election season. As we walked through the Charlotte neighborhoods, we did see a lot of campaign signs, and I am sure that lots of opinions were represented in that group of walkers (who raised 1.75 million!), but none of those opinions mattered for those two days. We were all just part of a group of people walking for a common cause. That gave me hope.

When we finished...

I felt like I could do this...

Here's to next year!

Church Ladies Rock

On Sunday, I attended an afternoon worship service for the dedication of a new church building. A friend of mine serves as pastor, and what a building! They did not renovate the sanctuary...the built a brand new building for classrooms, daycare, offices...but the most impressive part, I mean, the part that made me drool was their kitchen! Oh, the work table! Oh, the refrigerator! Oh, the warming thing-amajig! I know the amount of food that goes out of our church kitchen, so of course, I was thinking to myself, "Just imagine what WE could do with this kitchen!"

But, the part of the kitchen that inspired me the most was the group the church ladies working it! They were refilling punch bowls, putting out fresh trays of goodies, refreshing cookie plates - and being friendly and charming the entire time. And, you know, I could go into almost any church and find a core of church ladies who do the same thing.

In fact, I think of the church ladies I knew growing up - my grandmothers and my great aunts were church ladies. Then, there was Nettie, who was a brave church lady who worked with the youth. There was Joyce who sang in the choir. There was Kathy who took care of my sister and me once when my dad got really sick and had to go to the hospital. I think about the church ladies I know now - they just know how to 'do' and then they do it. Do you know what I mean?

There is an art to being a church lady. If you are going to be any good at it, you have to love being at your church. Seriously - you cannot get all mad because you're not at home on your couch. You have to be willing to serve even when you get no recognition or attention. You have to have a flair for something - cooking, table decorations, compassion, service, conversation...and if you don't have that kind of flair, be an organizer and delegate, delegate, delegate.

All of those church ladies on Sunday were so happy with their new kitchen. But, I could have swapped them out with the church ladies in my church or the church ladies from my youth, and the result would have been the same...a roomful of people eating, sharing stories, laughing...and a Table that just keeps getting refilled.

God just keeps showing up

Every now and again, I get together with a couple of other local ministers for lunch. We catch up on our families and the changes that time always brings to those we love. We talk about our churches - things that are working well and things that we wish we could do better. There is a lot of experience sitting around the lunch table, and it is a gift to be able to share in it.

Last time we met, we talked a little about this movement in evangelical Christianity towards monastic things. Apparently, Christians are turning by droves to the monasteries to learn how to pray and how to build scripture into their lives...and how to make a connection to God. We wondered what the church is missing for its own members to turn elsewhere for a "God thing." One could make any number of arguments about that, but what struck me about our conversation was our own longing to make a deeper connection with God. Where, as leaders, do WE turn for a spiritual booster shot? Where do WE turn for prayer and ongoing spiritual companionship - the honest kind, the kind where you don't have to keep your guard up, the kind where you can freely admit your own failures and shortcomings? Sometimes, leading is really lonely. We talked about options and practices, and I am still trying to figure out the answers to all of those things.

But, one thing I know for sure. Even though I want more depth in my prayer life, God just keeps showing up. God does not seem to base divine presence on my spiritual prowess. That is a good thing.

For example, this morning, I was getting ready to go to church - to our homecoming service, which for a variety of reasons, is the most stressful service of the entire church year for me. But, I looked at my cat, Lola. Pretty little Lola. Her markings are gorgeous. Her eyes are gorgeous. She is just a beautiful, beautiful cat. Surely God had a lot of fun making her - watching her play made we wonder about the creative enthusiasm that God must use to approach this world.

Then, I got to church. The bell ringers showed up early to practice. The hospitality team had already spent yesterday setting up. It was raining, and the Sunday school teachers still pulled up to teach. Commitment like that is not the first response in human nature - it is something that God sparks inside of us.

The service ended. The meal took place, and then I came home, closed my eyes, and fell asleep for a little while. Rest is such a wonderful gift from God.

Now, as I drink a cup of coffee, I remember again that God comes to us in many, many ways. Some people are a lot better at noticing. Some people have developed the habit to notice when God just keeps showing up. It is my prayer that God can become as much of a habit for me as is my daily dose of caffeine.

What a difference!

What a difference one year makes! I just returned from something called our fall "colloquium" yesterday. It's a school thing, but it is not really a class. It's more of a planning session for our professional projects. There are certain things we have to do by certain dates, and the school wants to make sure we get them done. We really worked hard on our write-ups (called a propsectus) over the summer for what we were planning to do, and I think we are all in pretty good shape.

Anyway, when I walked into our meeting facility on Thursday, I could hear the conversation and laughter from all the way down the hall...a far cry from last year when we did not know each other and we sat in silence waiting for class to start. It wasn't long before someone started talking about a particularly funny experience in class last spring. Then, we were off remembering our time at Drew last summer...we have shared memories now and that has created a bond between us. Although I am exceedingly happy to be DONE with the actual classwork, I will miss seeing my school peeps on a regular basis. We all hugged each other when we left.

It just made me realize again how important it is to belong somewhere - to have a community somewhere of people who help you get through things - whether it is a class or a major life change. It is important to have shared memories - things that have taken up permanent residence in YOUR mind and heart and in someone else's mind and heart. It is important to be a part of something bigger than yourself.

I am grateful for the opportunity to study with these people - what difference one year makes.

Anonymous

Today, I drove over to Durham to meet my dad at South Pointe. He was running late, but it was a beautiful day, so I sat outside on a bench for about 45 minutes. Usually, I have a book with me to read during times like this. But, today, I opted not to carry one and not even to buy a new one at the HUGE Barnes and Noble. And, I just sat on that bench with my feet in the sun.

I thought, "Nobody knows exactly where I am right now. And, nobody here cares who I am right now." It was a great moment of complete anonymity. So, I just sat and enjoyed it.

It was like a Sabbath.

And, I've wondered if that is what Sabbath is - anonymity. Our importance disappears as God's importance grows stronger.

All I know is that I rested. I looked at all the people walking by. I felt the sun. And, I breathed.

A great afternoon...