Child's Excitement

I was in the cafeteria at school getting my lunch. For some reason instead of the usual separate plastic utensils, a wrapped spork, napkin, and straw were provided. As I walked past the first grade students, I heard one of them call down the table to a friend, "WE GOT A SPORK!!" The awe and excitement were obvious. I chuckled to myself. It's funny what a child finds exciting. Simple thing can make children happy.

What simple things in our lives can make us happy? For a long time I thought Christmas was about what presents I got. When I got older and presents didn't make me happy, I had a few miserable Christmases. When I finally stopped expecting gifts, I enjoyed Christmas more. I would get my hopes up for some great presents and when I didn't get them, I felt a huge let down. My whole Christmas was built around my expectations of great gifts.

Finally I started to figure out that I would find happier times looking forward to the little things. Sitting in the living room with my family after dinner is one thing I flash on when thinking of Christmas. Mom working in the kitchen in her church clothes and house slippers. I smile when I think of being with my church family as Christmas Eve turns to Christmas morning. Time with friends and families make my holidays much more joyful.

Do you look at Christmas with jaded eyes and a closed heart or do you see it that it is as exciting as a spork?

Oh Come, Oh Come

Last Sunday was Advent Sunday, the season of preparation and waiting for the Nativity of Jesus. I was responsible for lighting the altar candles.

When I was trained to perform this duty, Jean, then the worship coordinator, explained how I could remember which candle to light first. When facing the altar, the candle on the right represents Jesus and it is always lit first. AND when extinguishing the candles, I was to relight the candle lighter off of the Christ candle and then process out of the sanctuary. I would be symbolically carrying Jesus out into the world.

As I started down the aisle with the lit candle lighter, I listened to the congregation sing, "Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel."

Oh, come, oh, come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to you, O Israel!

I watched the flame as I walked. The words "the Son of God appear" struck a chord with me. Each time someone brings the flame in s/he is symbolically saying that God is present with us.

Do we have to wait for Christmas to feel like God is with us? All year long do we embrace the idea that God is with us? I'm not against Christmas. I think it can be a reminder that we are not alone and that God is with us. REJOICE! REJOICE!

Warning!!

I was driving back to Lubbock from the farm. When you live in the city, you forget how dark country roads can be. Ahead the only lights on the road were two sets of hazard lights flashing. Because I don't know what's ahead, I slowed down. I realized the parked vehicles might be sitting in the middle of the road. I slowed down even more as I approached the lights. As I was almost at the cars, something blocked the road. I quickly swerved around the black cow that straddled the yellow line. If I hadn't slowed down, I could have been killed.

How many times do we see warning lights from God? I hear that little voice in my head saying, "This isn't what you are supposed to be doing." I have to decide if I am going to listen to that voice or if I am going to preceed on a dangerous road. Often my own desires stifle the sirens that tell me what is good or not good for me. I make excuses to myself. "But I'm really lonely and God doesn't want me to be by myself." "If I work hard enough, I can make ... go the way it should." "I can change this person."

God has given each of us lights, bells, sirens that warn us when we are on a path that is destructive for us. God also gave us free will to decide whether we will follow God or our own desires. I pray that the next time I see hazard lights on my path, I slow down to decide if this is where I should go.

One More Try

In Hebrew Scriptures class (Old Testament), we have been just finishing Isaiah and Jeremiah. One thing I've noticed throughout the books that we've studied so far is that the Israelites were constantly screwing up and God was constantly giving them a second chance.

I sometimes beat myself up because I haven't been praying daily or because I was worried about money so I didn't pay my offering for the month. I feel like I have failed and think, "What's the use? I've already messed up. Why even try?" Sometimes I think I'm such a doofus that there is no way that God could still love me.

The lesson I'm learning from these old scriptures is that even in the olden (extremely olden) days God was willing to offer another chance. I always have another opportunity to follow God and the commandments that Jesus set forth. By commandments I'm speaking of "Love your neighbor as you love yourself and love God above all things."

The stewardship committee talks about how to keep stewardship in people's minds after finishing the drive. Referring back to God's recovenant with the Isrealites is one way we can help our congregants know that they can keep trying. Instead of giving up, each of us can try again. How else could we go to God's communion table?

MORE! again!?!

I've got a feeling that I'm supposed to be doing more. Like before I feel a dissatisfaction with the status quo. I'm struggling with feeling this huge jumpiness inside of me. When I sit in church, I know that we are not reaching people. Instead of trying to have a contemporary service we try to give a mixture of some praise music and some hymns.


God has put tremors on my heart that I need to start an alternative worship service. Can it be in/at MCC Lubbock? Our sanctuary feels so stale. Our fellowship hall is stark. I think this service could happen in our sanctuary. Should it be on Sunday night or Saturday afternoon (like Recovering the Promise)? Should it be Wednesday night? If Doorways, our young people's group, is going to only meet every other week, then we could have a service one Wednesday a month.

I can also envision a service at a coffee house. I can envision people noticing activity in the cafe and wandering in to see what's going on. I can also imagine people coming who wouldn't normally walk into a church. They wouldn't feel the pressure that they had to believe in anything to be welcomed in this service.

I believe that God has put these thoughts in my head because there are people in Lubbock who need MORE. So many GLBT people don't feel that they have a place at most churches in Lubbock. Probably many straight people have also experienced being on the outside.

What is going to happen? I don't know. I'm continuing to pray about what God wants from me and from MCC Lubbock.

The Dark Hole

For most of my life I was lost. I did not belong anywhere and felt unbearably out of place in the world. About eight years ago this feeling became even stronger as I began to explore my sexuality and in my isolation, I became severely depressed. My therapist encouraged me to develop a support system and suggested that I try Metropolitan Community Church (MCC) Lubbock.

I had qualms about going to a church because I did not consider myself a Christian and had no interest in becoming one. Although I had been raised by Christian parents who took me to Sunday school and church services, I did not understand God as a living being, but rather as stale stories told to keep me on the right side of obedience. My experience with “religious” people had me questioning what was factual. I heard about Jesus saying, “Love one another,” but I saw the people of my church not acting with love toward each other. I was told that God didn’t care what I wore or what I looked like, but I heard the leaders of my youth group complaining about the couple who came to church each week in the same dingy clothes. I saw the way none of the adults would talk to the African-American woman who came to a worship service. As I listened to the people around me, I perceived their actions and words to be those of God and I wasn’t impressed with the double standard I thought belonged to God.

To add to my childhood experiences, in college I lost a close friend. My friends before Chris were children of my parents’ friends or from my school. In contrast Chris was my first friend of choice and when she suffered a brain injury, she forgot me and our friendship. I could not understand why God would allow me to find this friend and then take her away from me. The culture of the private college I was attending kept saying that if I had enough faith, God would fix my problems. God didn’t and I didn’t feel like I was allowed to be angry at God. My disappointment added to my confusion about the double standard of God. Finally the only way that I could deal with my feelings was to stop believing that God existed or that God was of any use to me.

As an agnostic, I felt deep discomfort going to a church after more than a ten year absence. The first few times at MCC Lubbock I sat in the pew and did not sing, bow my head, or participate in any way. I could only sit and wait for these people to show me the same hateful, backstabbing God of my youth.

One Sunday, Rev. Renae preached about Elijah and how his experience on Mount Carmel left him feeling alone and lost. She said that even though Elijah felt alone, he was not because God was with him. Just as Elijah did not have to experience the ups and downs of life by himself, none of us had to be alone. We do not even have to ask because God is always there and shares our pain and loss with us.

At that moment I knew that God was actually giving me a message. Until this point, God was some callous being that floated in the clouds and had no link with me or my life. Suddenly I realized that even though I was in the deepest, darkest emotional hole, I was not alone and had never been alone. God had always been with me.

The climb out of my depression was time consuming and difficult. I believe that this moment was the turning point for me and it was all put into action by God. Several years after that first visit to MCC Lubbock, I began to understand how the Holy Spirit had put people in my life so that I could take that first step. God loved me and wanted what was best for me even when I had no clue that something bigger than me existed.

A part of my healing has been to realize that God, as my heavenly parent, loves me unconditionally. There is nothing I can do to make God love me more; and there is nothing I can do to make God stop loving me. Now that I have experienced unconditional love, I can allow others to love me and also extend love to them. I never really understood that my mom and dad loved me unconditionally until I was able to experience God’s love in this manner.

On a Lighter Note

I have a new baby. He's an 8-week-old yellow kitten named Simon AND he's turned our house upside down.


My mature dog, Sweet Pea, wants to be his friend so bad that she's going to sprain her tail. Sweet Pea can't figure out why Simon doesn't understand her wagging as a a sign of friendship. In addition I have to keep reassuring Sweet Pea that I still love her. She's afraid I don't care as much.

My cat, Missy, is soooo ticked off about this thing invading her house. She stalks through the house trying to beat up the kitten. I haven't been able to get close enough to her to reassure her. She appears to be a little ticked off at me too for daring to bring that into her world.

And the irony is that Simon wants to be Missy's friend and is terrified of Sweet Pea.


Jeannie who raised Simon offered me Sam, his brother. As much as I love babies, I had to refuse. Children, whether animal or human, cost money. I have vet bills for three children now. I had to decide that three were enough.

FYI Jeannie has said if she were going to keep any of the kittens, Sam would be the one. I know he'll be taken care of.

Money and Tithing and Stewardship! OH MY!

My church is beginning our yearly stewardship program. Every fall we spend several weeks talking about what being a good steward means. I used to cringe at the thought of this time at MCC Lubbock. Just the word stewardship brings back stressful memories.

My childhood church talked about stewardship one Sunday a year. Normally we would go to Sunday school and then go into the church service. However when Mom would look at the bulletin and see stewardship on the schedule, she would hustle us out to the car. I felt confusion and fear over why we had to leave so quickly. As I grew older, I found out the anxiety I picked up from Mom was associated with STEWARDSHIP!

Mom's attitude reflects what many people feel about stewardship. Churches often fixate only on money and giving "10%." Guilt is one of the major tools that is put on church goers: "Give us your money. Commit to an amount each month. Really YOU should give more money." Mom definitely felt pressure that she had to give a certain amount to the church. Considering that she supported our family with her salary as a teacher, she felt that the church's pressure was too much for her to handle. Also I think she felt that the church was trying to make her feel guilty.

What I've learned about stewardship at MCC Lubbock is that it is about so much more than money. Being a good steward means that I use the gifts which with God has blessed me. I am a natural teacher and I use my talent to educate others through a Bible study group as well as from the pulpit.

AND yes stewardship does aim to help each of us wisely use the money that we earn. God has given me the ability to earn a living and I chose to turn some of that back over to God. For more than five years I've been committing each year to give a certain amount of money to my church. I don't give 10% of my income. Each year I have allocated a little bit more money to the church. The important thing to me is following through with my commitment. I also feel it's significant for me to try to grow a little bit each year.

One thing that I have learned about giving to the church, 10% is expressed in the Hebrew Bible and not necessarily appropriate for me as a follower of Christ. I believe that for me as a Christian, I can use 10% as a goal and as a suggestion. God wants me to get my finances in order rather than living from paycheck to paycheck.

In 2 Corinthians 9:6-7, Paul says:

Remember: A stingy planter gets a stingy crop; a lavish planter gets a lavish crop. I want each of you to take plenty of time to think it over, and make up your own mind what you will give. That will protect you against sob stories and arm-twisting. God loves it when the giver delights in the giving.

I sometimes wish Mom could experience stewardship the way I have at MCC Lubbock. Her story is only one of how churches hurt people over money. I continue to share my childhood observances and my current understanding of stewardship with hopes that others will be able to overcome negative feelings and that we as a church remember to offer understanding and love to those who have suffered.

Anticipation

Saturday morning was chore time when I was growing up. Mom taught us to clean the bathrooms, dust, and vacuum. David and I stripped our beds and put fresh sheets on them. We helped Mom wash and dry clothes and then fold them. Usually while we folded clothes we could watch cartoons. Mom let each of us pick one 30 minute cartoon. We could watch both programs and after the hour the TV was turned off.

Once a month or so we spent the night at Grandma's house. Of course they doted on us as many grandparents do. We were allowed to watch as many cartoons as we wanted. I remember waking up early on these mornings. David and I would turn the TV on real low and wait for the morning programing to start. We would watch the broad vertical bars with anticipation. We were in cartoon nirvana.

When we were older and my younger cousin, Stephanie, also stayed at Grandma's, I would wake Stephanie and leave her sitting on the floor in front of the screen. She had specific orders to come wake us when the cartoons started. Then I would go back to bed and sleep until the programing starts.

As an adult I don't often feel that childlike expectation. Grown-up life often becomes all about seeing life as mundane rather than looking forward to everyday activities. The most recent occasion for me to feel this anticipation and thrill is concerning this call I feel from God.

The difficulty for me is what to do when elation fades into reality. I am finding ways to continue feeling excitement in God's call. I am actively seek opportunities to praise and worship in ways that allow me to encounter God in a meaningful way. For me that often means enjoying services at locations other than my traditional church. Sometimes I have to make a point to not serve others and just receive. For several years I've made an effort to remove myself from the worship schedule a couple a Sundays a month. Sometimes I have to be able to relax and enjoy the celebration and nourishment that I can receive during worship.

Each of us have to find ways to keep that joy and excitement in our lives. When we feel this way, we are able to again find the anticipation we felt as children. Like those special Saturdays at Grandma's we are able to see the simple things in life as the wonder that God intended.

Forgiven

My Bible study group studied Phillip Yancy's book, What's So Amazing About Grace. Yancy told stories that expressed different ways people have shown grace to others as well as how God exhibits grace to us. Many of the accounts made a significant impact on me and my way of thinking. One in particular really helped me think about grace and forgiveness.

This story is of two missionaries who were working with a group of Polish Christians a few years after World War II. The missionaries told the Poles that a group of German Christians wanted to meet with them so that they could apologize for what their people did to Poland. One Pole fiercely declared that they could not possibly forgive the Germans or even be expected to do so. He said that every brick, every street of Warsaw was drenched with Polish blood. How could they ever forgive the ones who cause so much hurt?

To end the meeting the group said the Lord’s Prayer. When they got to “forgive us our debts as we have forgiven…,” the group stopped praying. The man who earlier had spoken so intensely said, “Of course we will meet with them. We must. God will only forgive us as much as we are willing to forgive others.” Over a year later the two groups met and formed a lasting friendship.

Whenever I read this story, I think about how God gave the ultimate gift to us by allowing Jesus to be crucified. God must have wanted to rant and rave against all humanity while watching his child die. Instead of reacting out of anger and disgust, God continues to offer us grace.

In John 12:44-45 (The Message) Jesus says:

Whoever believes in me, believes not just in me but in the One who sent me.
Whoever looks at me is looking, in fact, at the One who sent me. I am Light
that has come into the world so that all who believe in me won't have to
stay any longer in the dark.

Forgiveness freed the Poles from their pain and anger, just as it can free us. All we have to do is turn to God and let go of all these feelings.


*Image from http://www.letterrip.net

Fear and Death

Dad blamed Mom for my apprehension of funerals and dead people. Because Mom was so uncomfortable with open caskets at funerals and visitations, Dad thought I had picked up Mom's views. Neither of them realized how terrifying Grandpa's death was for me or that what I was feeling was actually a phobia. I didn't really get over the anxiety or fear until I was in college and oddly enough until I was an agnostic.

Grandpa, my dad's father, died after being ill for many years. Grandma and Grandpa lived just a few miles from our house and over 15 miles away from the closest funeral home. The family decided to have the visitation at the house rather than the funeral home because so many of the people who would come to visit were from the farming community. The funeral would take place at our little community church.

When we drove into Grandma and Grandpa's driveway, I must have been horribly excited. Visits to my grandparents were always fun and usually meant whatever special treats that my brother and I wanted. We got Dr. Pepper floats and biscuits with homemade syrup. It also meant sleep-overs and domino games and as many morning cartoons as we wanted to watch.

I'm sure my parents tried to explain again that this was not a fun visit and I really didn't understand what was going on. I was seven or eight years old and the permanence of death didn't really make sense to me. When I ran in the front door, I skidded to a stop in front of the coffin with Grandpa's body in it. Suddenly death felt very real to me.

I immediately knew that Grandpa wasn't alive. He didn't quite look like the real Grandpa. I backed away and edged toward the dining room. I avoided the living room as much as I could. When I had to be in there I sat as far away from the casket as I could.

This was the beginning of my anxiety of death and dead bodies. As a child living in a small community that usually had open-casket funerals, I had many opportunities to experience this fear over and over. After this when I did go to funerals, I avoided the line that would go past the body or quickly went past without looking.

I was afraid that the people who I loved would turn into zombies and vampires and otherworldly creatures when they died. My overactive imagination started worrying that these beloved ones would become strangers who wanted to hurt me. I certainly couldn't explain these fears as a child. I knew that what I thought was irrational and that my parents would tell me that I was being silly. I understood enough to know that others didn't think about bodies the way that I did because they went to visitations and they didn't cringe away when coming near coffins.

Now that I am an adult, I can see value in the closure that comes from funerals. That release of emotions act as a means for us to be able to eventually move on. Now as I begin my path toward ministering, I am extremely thankful that I got over my phobia. My ability to provide comfort would have been greatly limited by that fear.

In God's Time

I was absolutely miserable. I hated my job. The school year had started and I had a new boss who thought that I was useless and that my position wasn't necessary. For the first time since I started teaching my boss was a man. AND he was an extremely opinionated man who had no qualms about telling everyone his political views. My co-workers noticed my gloominess and tried to offer support with little success.

Earlier that spring I had applied for a job that would not only give me more money and would definitely be a move up the career ladder, but it was also my dream job or at least a few years ago would have been my dream job. I didn't know if I was supposed to stay with teaching in a public school or if I was supposed to become a minister. I knew that if I got the job I would have a hard time committing to something like seminary. If I was supposed to get my masters of divinity, then I knew God wouldn't allow me to get the job. If I was supposed to focus on avocational ministries, I would get the job.

School started and I didn't hear anything. I felt like I was standing on a limb that had a crack through it. At any moment everything would fall out from under me and I was terrified. At school I was miserable. I barely made it through my days. Finally about two weeks in, I prayed to God that I needed peace with my job. If I was going to have to stay at Lorenzo and EPEC, I needed God to help me get through this. I couldn't stand the way I was feeling any longer.

I said to God, "Okay, I can't live like this anymore. I need your help. If I have to be at this job, I need you to give me peace with it. Give me strength to finish this year." I suddenly felt an ease that I would be all right and could survive this school year.

When I got home from work that afternoon, I had to hurry because I was leading Bible study and had to get ready for that. I didn't bother getting my mail, but when I was leaving for the group, I did check it and there was the letter from the ESC telling me that they had hired someone else.

If I had gotten that letter a day earlier, I couldn't have handled the realization that I was stuck with a tiresome job. I knew that God had only allowed me to receive the bad news when I was able to handle it. I also understood that when I had finally asked for help God had immediately given it. I could have saved myself a lot of hassle if I'd relied on God from the beginning. I'm just glad I eventually turned to God.

Home of the Free and the Brave

I'm telling you now "DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ MY
OPINIONS!" I'm not asking for your approval and I'm not seeking arguments
from you. I just want to let out some of my feelings.


I feel very frustrated by the whole discussion about the Obama health care plan. So many of the middle and upper class people are angry and are opposed to socializing health care. My boss is massively opposed to it and extremely vocal about his opposition. Many of my facebook friends and my family are just as vocal about their disagreement with Obama's desire to insure that all have access to health care. MY concern is how many people can't afford insurance and don't qualify for Medicaid. What do we do about the older folks who have to pay some things out of pocket even though they qualify for Medicare or when Medicare/Medicaid refuses to pay for certain meds because they are too expensive, but they are the meds that work for you?


My friend Michael Chaney had a pretty heated discussion with his friends on facebook. He made an argument that really got to the crux of the matter. Michael said, about Peter Kinnear who is CEO for FMC Technologies and who has been vocally opposed to socialized health care: "This CEO took home 725 times the amount of an average paid employee! I guess he can afford to oppose health care for the working class!" The arguments to Obama's plan have mostly come from those who don't need it and either have insurance through their work and/or can afford to pay for their own insurance.

Here is my problem: I hate confrontation, especially about political issues. I have my opinion and you are not going to change my mind. AND I figure that you have your opinions and I am probably not going to change them. Political discussion is very rarely a true exchange of thoughts. To me it feels more like an attempt to convince the other person that s/he is "wrong." So when people express their beliefs on Obama's desire to create a health care system for all, they don't really want to hear or understand why I think differently, just like they don't want to hear other ways that I think or feel otherwise from them.

One argument that really started me writing this piece was that Obama was being racist for trying to get health care for people who can't afford it. His opponents argue that Obama is racist because most of the people who need the help are people of color. Okay... so when W promoted tax cuts for the wealthy, no one cried, "Racist." I don't remember anyone saying racist when Reagan also cut taxes for the upper class. No one called Clinton racist because he expanded the death penalty for drug kingpins, murderers of federal law enforcement officers, and nearly 60 additional categories of violent felons. When I hear someone trying to complain about Obama being racist, I hear them saying that really they are threatened by the fact that he is a man of color and is now in a place to make changes that help all people.


Why did I decide to express my opinion now? I finally voted on the FB poll about health care. I did it because I got tired of having to listen to everyone else's opinions. I felt like my silence said that I agreed with those people who were expressing their beliefs. I also noticed that after I voted my facebook friends who saw my vote started posting their opposing views. They have a right to feel that way just as I have the same right.


On the actual issue of health care, I spend over $150 a month on my health insurance and that's after my school district has chipped in its share. I could have chosen a cheaper option. I have to have this extensive coverage because I have a number of health issues. In addition to the amount I pay for my insurance, the amount I pay for my monthly out of pocket expenses for medication is over $200. If I get sick, I will shell out at least an additional $50 to $60. AND I thank God every day that I can now afford this amount of money. During my early teaching years, I had to make choices about what bills I would pay so that I could get my meds. At times I also made choices about what medicines I absolutely had to have and which ones if I didn't take, I wouldn't die or seriously damage myself.


I truly don't know if socialized medicine is the way to go. I do know that if I as a single woman with no children struggles, how do others make it? Do I say to the mom with two kids and a dumb ass ex-husband who can't be bothered, "Sorry your children have to do without"? Do I ignore the friend who goes to the county hospital and can only afford treatment by claiming to be indigent because he doesn't qualify for disability or Medicaid yet? I don't know if I could live with myself if I didn't support health care for these people. Is this going to change my coverage? I don't know. But we, as a country, have to start doing something about the distribution of resources. We have made it almost impossible for some people to ever thrive and we proudly stand there and say that we are the land of the free and the brave. I truly want to be brave and maybe my first step toward that is expressing this opinion even though it differs from most of my friends and family

Freedom Songs

Last night I watched Freedom Songs: The Music of the Civil Rights Movement. I expected to hear spirituals and was surprised to find out about popular songs of the time that were often written as a means to express the singer's desire for freedom. Many of the artists had to talk in ambiguity just as slaves had to sing songs with a second meanings. The people in power would have shut down the radio stations if they had known to what some of the songs referred.

I'd heard many of these popular songs before and had never made the connection between the words and the civil rights movement. I never really understood what Sam Cooke meant when he sang about how "it had been a long time coming, but a change was gonna come." Or when the Impressions sang, "People get ready, there's a train a comin'," I didn't realize that they were talking about a figurative train. I can't help but think about the underground railroad, which of course didn't really have tracks or a locomotive, but was an unstoppable movement for some to reach freedom.

When I actually look at the lyrics for Marvin Gaye's "What's Goin' On," I realize that sometime the words were laid out there for everyone to hear. I think the music blocked some of people's realizations that Gaye was callling for action and I don't think he means action against the Vietnam War. He sings

Picket lines and picket signs. Don't punish me with brutality.
Talk to me, so you can see. Oh, what's going on. What's going
on....

Some of Gaye's words talk about long hair, but as someone pointed out in Freedom Songs, women stopped wearing their wigs and let their afro's grow out. Gaye may have hidden his call to action for civil rights within the Vietnam struggle.

Many of these songs talked about chains. I never really thought about chains as meaning those of white oppression. Even though slavery had been outlawed in the later 1800s, people of color knew they were still not free. In some ways as I watched this doc I kept thinking, "We're not finished. We still have a long way to go." At one point a picture from the late 50s/early 60s showed a marching man holding a sign that said "End poverty" because he knew that poverty was one way to hold people down. Poverty is still holding people in a silent place.

This music still has a place in our world. When a person of color has to work twice as hard to prove him/herself, we still need to sing about "Unity" and "Eyes on the Prize". Until banks give loans equally to all people, we have to keep saying, "Stand!" and "Respect." And until all people can walk down the street without hearing names yelled at them, we have to keep believing "I Shall Not Be Moved."

Will Power!

I'm working on losing weight. Okay, not really working. The doctor wants me to. I KNOW I need to. AND I don't really have any motivation to do work on it. The more the doc nags the more I rebel. I keep wondering how I will have time to use the gifts God is giving me if I don't get myself healthier. Am I really going to waste all of these things with which God is blessing me just because I can't find the incentive to lose weight?

Over the next five years I will spend a lot of energy, time, and money to become an ordained minister. I'll be forty-six by the time I can actually complete ordination with MCC. I know God wouldn't have pushed and shoved me to where I am if there aren't BIG plans for me.

Just this afternoon I pulled into the Dairy Queen drive-thru line. I really wanted BOTH tacos AND a Blizzard. I was trying really hard to talk myself out of getting both. I pulled into one of the parking spaces and quietly said to God, "Please help me make a good decision here." As I backed up, I realized I didn't want either tacos or ice cream AND walking the dog sounded like a good idea.

One of my biggest problem with using this technique is that I have to be able to STOP and pray before I shove food in my mouth or even buy it. Obviously I'm not good at thinking before eating. In fact I have a tendancy to totally not think when I want to eat. I'm way more likely to feel when eating. When I'm bored, I eat. When I'm sad, I eat. When I'm lonely, I eat. When I'm mad, I eat. And I eat when I am happy.

For me I really have to focus on eating healthier food. I also have to stop eating when I'm full. I have gotten better at not eating all the food on my plate when I'm eating out. I have a harder time at home when I swear the food is whispering from the fridge. It says, "You KNOW I taste good. You KNOW you want me. Come on! EAT ME!"

During these times I will try to stop and ask God for help. I know I can't do it by myself. Isn't that one of the first step in AA? I am admitting that I'm powerless over alcohol (or food in this instance) and that a Power greater than me will have to restore my sanity. So tonight I remember that God has a plan for me and if I am going to fulfill it, I have to focus away from food and on God. I've fought the idea of joining Overeaters Anonymous. As I write these thoughts, I am begin to wonder if God is trying to encourage me to step out of my comfort zone and try OA.

Okay, God, I know that You're in charge and that I have very little willpower concerning food. I will try OA. Thanks, Dude.

Studying the Bible

The times that I have really delved into the Bible are those times that I have had to prepare sermons for church. I work my buns off trying to follow what God is asking of me. Unfortunately the burning bush doesn't jump up and tell me exactly what verses and words to say. I think God likes for me to work at finding what I need to say. I wouldn't have bought a Bible or utilize it to the extent I've already used it if God didn't want me to explore these words.

Sometimes I know what I want to say and feel God is giving me these inspirations. AND I am not sure what scriptures to which I should tie these thoughts. I start digging into the concordance at the back of my Bible, trying to find the scripture that really speaks to the ideas that I have. I usually don't find what I am to use until I've looked at many different verses and subjects.

Other times the minister assigns me a scripture and I have to find a way to make it relevant to modern life. I read the notes associated with the verses and try to find discussion and commentary by others. I may read back several chapters to see what led to this particular story or compare the story with the other Gospels' versions. Now that I have some of Christopher's books, I also read in them seeing what information I can find that will help me.

When I finally complete the sermon or at least my notes because I don't usually write the sermon into complete paragraphs, I feel as though I understand a tiny little bit more about the Bible and God. It's not that I think I know everything about this one scripture. The feeling I have is that I've started to peel back a layer or two of the Bible. Next time I use these verses I will peel another layer. Each time I examine the scriptures I learn something new.

Oil of Gladness

I went to another funeral today, my fourth in just a few months. I knew that I hadn't truly mourned for my friends, Christopher and Michael or my aunt, Beth. The sorrow I am feeling is about my loss not theirs. I began experiencing a void that Christopher's death created. Beth's sudden death ripped it larger. Now with Rosie's passing I am confronting the pit that all of these deaths have opened.

Today as I listened to minister speak fervently of Rosie's loving, caring nature, I was saturated by my recent losses. Tears started running down my cheeks. The minister spoke of how Rosie's house (her physical body) had broken down and was in disrepair. Now that she was with God, she was in a new spiritual house that couldn't be destroyed or crippled. What he said was true for Rosie, for Christopher, for Beth, for Michael. All of them had bodies that failed them and couldn't support their spirits any more.

Grief is a necessary process for us humans. We all have to experience the anguish associated with death so that we can heal and become healthy again. Not dealing with pain and loss can and often does lead to depression. I know that tears and sadness are part of a necessary process.

I've experienced that deep depression from repressing my feelings. My first Christmas at MCC Lubbock Rev. Renae and a minister from United Church of Christ Lubbock led a special service for people who were feeling sad and lonely during the holidays. I was battling severe depression. With a great deal of uncertainty I went to the Blue Christmas Service expecting little from it.

The Bible verse they used was Isaiah 61:3.

3...provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair...

I had never heard this verse and was struck by the imagery of these words. At the end of the service, the two ministers administered oil on each person's forehead. For me this evening helped me acknowledge to God that I needed divine help to move past my grief.

Today as I mourn my loved ones I take comfort again from this verse and in the knowledge that God never leaves me. Eventhough I'm still sad over these losses, God has subsided the oppressiveness of my sorrow. God has again anointed me with the "oil of gladness."

A box of books

Today I went over to Gordon's house to look through Christopher's books. Gordon said I could take all that I wanted. As I filled a box with reference and spiritual books, I was struck with a sadness at the loss of my friend. This box of books is more than titles, pages, and words. It represents the mentor who embraced my desire to learn and accompanied me as my spiritual journey launched.

I met Christopher over eight years ago when I first attended to MCC Lubbock. He filled in for the full-time minister when she went on sabbatical just a few months after I started attending. Christopher led the membership class that I attended and welcomed me into the church as a member. When I was in a Bible study group taught by him, he encouraged me to step out and become a facilitator. Later he was a role model of how to lead as I worked with my own group. When I struggled with how I should minister to other people, Christopher provided me support and information. He sparked my interest in meditation helping me to listen to God, not just talk.

When Christopher died a few months ago, I felt a great loss in my heart. A few weeks earlier, he was kind enough to share the seminary recommendation that he had written for me. Reading his words, I knew that he was instrumental in my acceptance to EDS.

It feels appropriate that my professional library is started by Christopher who was instrumental in urging me forward on my spiritual journey. Each time I open one of his books I'll know that he is with me and acting as a spirit guide for me.

It's a small world

This afternoon I attended a holy union at my church. While there I met a man who earned a master's degree from Harvard Divinity School. We chatted a bit about Cambridge and he suggested that we go to lunch sometime to discuss spiritual stuff. He also gave me a couple of suggestions for some authors to check into.

What amazes me is that in Lubbock, Texas I met someone who has a connection to Cambridge. This past spring I met a man at my interfaith group who graduated from EDS and is a retired Episcopal priest in Lubbock. Really this world is very small.

The internet isn't even the thing that makes us connected. I didn't meet either of these people online. Yes the world wide web makes our world smaller, but I think what connects us and helps us make links to each other is God. If I figured the odds, they would be pretty slim that I would meet these people. However when God decides to put people together, there's no stopping the process.

The first Sunday which was Pentecost that I was in Cambridge, I went to First Church of Cambridge. Leading the choir into the sanctuary were people carrying long red streamers on poles. The metaphor of the fiery spirit flowing over the congregation was stirring and was an apt beginning for my seminary life.

Each year churches around the world celebrate when the Holy Spirit filled earlier followers of Christ.

Act 2:1-4 (NIV)
1When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. 2Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. 3They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. 4All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled
them.

The last day that I was in Massachusetts I went to an interfaith worship service for Boston Pride. Leading in the clergy was a man swirling rainbow-colored streamers attached to a long pole over our heads. The streamers floated above us much like those streamers on Pentecost.

I was struck how the two services framed my time of intense study of oppression. Just like all my Big Fish, I knew God was trying to get my attention. God was reminding me that there are still people who don't know about unconditional love and grace. These signs emphasized to me that I have a mission. That mission starts doesn't start tomorrow or in a week or when I graduate. I am to start NOW!

Filled with the Spirit

I was filling a glass with the last of the soda from a bottle. There was just a tiny bit left and I really wanted to fit it all into the glass. As it got closer and closer to the top, I was thinking, “Come on. Just a little bit more. I want it all now.” I suddenly had a thought of how overfilling a glass is how I sometimes feel about the Holy Spirit. What would happen if I as a person was being filled and I wanted it all?

In some ways I feel like I've been filled with all the wonderful things that God has given me. Is there more? What if I, like the glass, try to take more when I have already been filled? I realized that if I am filled and continue to accept more of God's grace and love, good things would overflow from me. Unlike a liquid when I overflow I don't make a mess. I actually share what I have in excess with the world.

I always have room for more understanding, more knowledge, more love, more God because when I have been filled I have extra to give. Much like warm fuzzies, hoarding what God has given me won't make all the blessings last longer. Hoarding will in fact make less of them and of me.

MORE

The Big Fish in my life started with the feeling I had that I wanted or needed more in my life. I had no idea what MORE was, but I definitely had a feeling of being stuck and needing a shove out of the mudhole in which I was mired.

I started attending a Tuesday night praise and worship service hoping that would fill the emptiness I felt. The services seemed only to make the hole feel even deeper. One evening the pastor spoke of how if someone feels that God is saying to do something, s/he should stop sitting on the fence and do what God is asking. I knew God was sending a message to me, but I was still struggling with what that really meant for me and my life.

Luckily (or it was a God moment) in January of 2008, Rev. Christopher George taught a course called "Creating a Life That Matters." This 18 week course was developed by MCC to help it's members find their calling and ministry, following the concept of ministry of all believers. I quickly discovered that this training was giving me the more I was missing.

By the time I was finished with the course, I knew that God wanted me to go back to school and develop my ministry. When I meditated, I asked God to tell me where to focus my ministry. The answer I got over and over again was "Wait." I didn't know if I need to go to seminary or one of the local colleges. Of course I had to keep asking God because what if I misunderstood what God said.

I waited through the summer and into the fall. Of course I don't mean that I sat around and did nothing. I continued to lead my Bible study group. Every opportunity that I got I preached at church. I began serving communion more often.

One day at work I was telling to a coworker and friend about my experience. Jessica said to me that she had known that I was feeling a calling for God. As soon as she started speaking, I knew that God wanted me to work with families and MCC to develop stronger, better relationships. I wasn't waiting any more. I also had the distinct feeling that I needed to get my master's in divinity which meant looking into programs in other cities and states.

Since January of '08, I haven't been craving MORE because God has been providing me with the guidance and stimulation that I was missing. I think each of us feel God trying to move us toward where we need to go. Sometimes God wants us to become more active in our spiritual home. Sometimes God is telling us to stop sleeping late on Sundays and get our butt to church. Sometimes God wants us to study and learn more by reading the Bible, the Koran, and other spiritual texts. The only way I can honor God is to follow the call that is placed on my heart.

God's Moving Me!

When Jason and deMarco visited my church in January, they talked about their move from California to Houston. One of them said that when God tells you that you're going somewhere, you'd better have your bags packed 'cause the move is coming quick. I knew God was telling me that changes were coming. Several months later I've packed my bags and God has moved me forward in my education.



I can't believe what an impact EDS has already had on me. My mind has stretched to consider what ministry can mean to anyone and everyone. I've met a great group of people who have helped push me to grow. James challenged me not to hide behind humor. I need to speak my truth without apology by backing off with humor. I knew when James said that to me that he had hit upon something that I hadn't acknowledged.