Great Expectations

Each day before Christmas when my grandma was 8 years old, she and her brother would walk to the post office which was about ½ a mile from their house. She would hope and hope that there would be a big package for them to bring home because that would mean that she had gotten the doll.  Each day they would return with various letters and packages, but none were big enough to be a doll.  On Christmas Eve, Grandma was again disappointed because no large package had arrived.  She knew she wasn’t getting her doll.

On that day many years ago, my grandma was convinced that Christmas was ruined because she wasn’t getting the doll. Being a little girl she was still learning about giving and receiving.  I think as each of us have grown up we have had to learn about the joy of giving.

Many of us enter into the season of Christmas expecting great things and we are often disappointed when events don’t live up to our expectations.  We forget that the most precious gift of this season is the memory of Jesus’ birth.

Female Olympian

Can you imagine what everyone said to her?  Was she brave or just crazy?  Don't try! You will look like a fool!  Look at that crazy outfit you'll have to wear!  You aren't a real athlete!

Even with all the negative talk, she put her best effort into winning her sport. In some ways women were as against her taking this risk as the men were.  People knew what an athlete looked like.  They had seen pictures of her fellow countrymen as they had competed for medals.  They didn't have to wear the silly costume.
What was she trying to prove?

Charlotte Cooper was the first woman to win an individual Olympic gold medal.  She probably had a lot in common with the Muslim women who competed in the 2012 Olympics.  She had to wear clothes that restricted her movement and covered her body.  She competed in a time when people thought that she was ruining her body by exercising too much and risking not giving birth to children.

I wonder how many women shook their heads and clucked their tongues at the thought of Ms. Cooper running around hitting a little ball.  AND I wonder how many little girls took notice of what Charlotte Cooper was doing and had hope that one day they too could be Olympians.

Some people have criticized the Muslim women who competed this year in the Olympics.  Some have said they are token women who aren't really able to compete.  But I have to believe that somewhere young girls who never thought they would have a chance to be in the Olympics are thinking, "If these women could do it, so can I."  This response is why these women are role models.

Path of God

I already bought my airline ticket for my January term class in Cambridge.  Very rarely do I buy my ticket so far in advance, but I decided that while I have the money, I should go ahead and make the commitment to go to Episcopal Divinity School (EDS).  School has been a dedication to financial, intellectual, and emotional energies. Do I believe that expending these energies is going to be worth it? Absolutely. In fact I think I've already felt and seen the benefits of studying at EDS. 

Possibly the greatest challenge that I have received from EDS is an appreciation of how people are oppressed by those in power, in particular due to race, gender, and socio-economic level.  I see all around me how I benefit from the power that being white and middle-class brings me.  EDS has pushed me to examine what I am going to do with the privileges that I receive.  I think many entries of this blog show how I am taking stock my life and what God wants me to do with what I am learning.

Since I've started my field education experience, I have been pushed even further to decide what I am going to do with my degree when I earn it.  Am I going to work toward helping those who are struggling with lack of resources or am I going to ignore the reality that I see around me?  I don't know what path my education is going to lead me, but I do know that none of it will be wasted.  This I know with every being of my heart AND I am ready for the challenge.

Fear of God

    Dylan was afraid of everything. Refusing to go to church because of his fear of the Holy Ghost was not a surprise. He had no clue who or what this spirit was and wanted nothing to do with it. Because of his fears, his mom had to stay home with him as he was too young to be left by himself. Dylan acted surprised that I was unafraid of this ghost because all he knew of ghosts was that they tried to scare and hurt people.

     Although many of us do not fear the idea of "The Holy Ghost," we do fear God and spirituality.  Some of us are afraid because we don't want our lives to change and most of the time a relationship with God will change us.  What if I don't want to be what God expects of me?  I kind of like drinking or cussing or whatever we think God says I'm not allowed to do. 

   Others may fear going to church because our knowledge of God relates to that of an angry and punishing God.  Maybe Dylan had the right idea when we consider an abusive God.  What I knew of God before MCC Lubbock was that God and many Christians considered me an abomination because of my sexuality.  Who wouldn't be afraid of a god who thought that way about you?

     Of course now I understand that God is my heavenly parent and loves me unconditionally.  God is not out to "catch" me being bad like Santa Claus.  God doesn't want me to be or do good because of fear.  I'm not going to earn my way into God's graces.  God's grace is free to me.
    When I consider how frozen by fear Dylan is, I feel bad for him.  He's allowing fear to keep him away from God's love.  I pray that someday he learns that the Spirit of God is nothing to fear.

Luxury Item

I recently delivered some children's clothes to a grandmother who is trying to raise several of her grandchildren.  In addition to the clothes, I brought her a sack of bathroom supplies.  When Abuela (grandmother in Spanish) saw the packet of toilet paper, she exclaimed, "Oh, thank you so much!  I had to ask my neighbor if I could borrow a roll because I didn't have the money to buy any."

Have you ever considered what you would do if you found yourself on disability AND had to raise your grandchildren? Food stamps, Medicare, and Medicaid doesn't pay for luxury items such as toilet paper, tooth paste or shampoo.  In addition to dealing with the fear and worry for her grandchildren and for her children, Abuela also has to think about where she will find the money to provide the "luxuries" of toiletry items. 

When I met Abuela and several other grandparents at a support group for grandparents raising grandchildren, I was introduced to people who lovingly brought their grandchildren into their homes rather than allow them to go into the foster care system.  With the reality of raising grandchildren came the realization that they would not receive financial or emotional assistance from Child Protective Services (CPS) that foster parents get.  Often trying to stretch income to provide for additional bodies is more than the grandparents can handle.  They make decisions based on what is an absolute necessity and what becomes a luxury item.

What kind of country are we living in when toilet paper becomes a luxury item?   How does one of the most prosperous countries in the world allow people to go without basic items of living?  I know that there are many people in the world who believe that public assistance is a failure, and perhaps it is.  But I cannot believe that people who live in the United States should have to do without something as basic as toilet paper.

Loaves and Fishes

The church's community food pantry was almost empty.  Only a few cans and boxes remained.  The monthly trip to the food bank had only provided enough food for a couple of weeks and the money in the offering barely covered that bill.  Even though there was little food, people continued to come asking for help, continued to worry about money, and continued to lose their jobs.  Will everyone who needed help receive it?  Were the needs of the people too big for God?  Would God provide as the economy remains unstable?

John 6:1-15 talks about how the disciples were also faced with the hunger of large numbers of people.  Philip saw the great masses of people and believed that the problem was too big.  Andrew saw the five loaves and two fishes and believed that they didn't have enough to solve the problem.

When we look at John 6, we see that Jesus used this opportunity to demonstrate to his disciples that God would provide.  He didn't try to tell them about God's abilities.  He had everyone sit down and he blessed the food that was there.  After everyone had eaten, Jesus had the remaining bread collected so that all could see how much more was left over.  He authenticated what God had done by physically showing how much more God had given than was needed.

 

I am reminded of the folktale, "Stone Soup," where as individual ingredients are added to the cooking pot until eventually a community soup is made.  We may not start off with an entire soup, but each of us has a bit of onion or carrot that can be added to create the soup.

The director of the food pantry uses the collected money to buy 3 to 4 times as much food at the food bank.  The volunteers harvest bushels of vegetables from the community garden after planting tiny seeds.  The local supermarkets donate produce and baked goods which are approaching their expiration dates.

A month ago an anonymous donor filled the shelves of MCC Lubbock's  food pantry just as the last bags were being given out.  In another life, I would have called this result "Luck," but experience tells me that God is at work.  Someone took what s/he had and allowed God to multiply it into baskets of loaves and fishes.  Thanks be to God.

The Big Sweepstakes

My grandma believed with every fiber of her body that she would win Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstake.  She bought magazines of every topic and cost.  Sometimes she even ordered the same magazine twice.  Grandma filed everything she got from them and kept detailed records. She often told me that people from Publisher's Clearinghouse had called to tell her that if she only bought a few more magazines she would definitely win. And she KNEW that someday she would win the Big Sweepstakes.  They would come and with that huge check, Grandma's worries would be over.

My grandma was a woman of faith. She believed strongly that God was evident in her life. But at some point in the last few years of her life, the worries of keeping her head financially above water became too much. As she supported herself and my uncle's household, Grandma knew she didn't have enough money and hoped that the Big Sweepstakes would give her the money she needed to take care of everyone.

Like my grandma, many of us look to chance or luck in the hope that our fortune will change.  Sometimes fear, financial worries, doubt make us forget that putting our faith in the world isn't going to get us very far.  We get so bogged down in our problems we forget that God is in charge.

The money from the sweepstake was not going to solve Grandma's concerns just as worldly goods aren't going to make us happy.  So many times when a problem comes up, I react with a gut reaction.  I desperately look to find the easy answers.  Finally when I can't find a solution, I remember to turn to God. God always give answers although not necessarily in the ways that I prefer.  Most of the time the answer is not the Big Sweepstakes.

Why Pray

Why pray? -Because I want a relationship with God, just as God wants to have one with me.  Praying (talking) is just one aspect of developing a bond.  One of the ways I move from being an acquaintance to being a friend is telling God how my life is going.  I sometimes cry in anguish with

God. Other times I laughingly tell God of the wonderful things happening in my life. Although God knows all of these things, by sharing God and I are forming a connection that can survive through difficult times.

Why pray? -Because if I do not honestly speak to God, how can I be honest with myself? At my most hurt, I raged at God.  This candid reaction to pain allowed me to learn that painful experiences are not the fault of God.  AND God shares in my pain just as my earthly parents do.

Why pray? -Because I need to hear what God has to say to me.  Prayer is more than talking to God.  It also involves listening to what God want me to know and understand.  When I sit quietly and open my mind, God shares just as I have with God.

Hope

How do you find hope today?  What if every where you look for hope, all you see are obstacles?  How do others deal with oppression on a daily basis?  Hope is a often a difficult feeling to find, especially in our economically unstable world. 

As I begin my field education at Hope Community of Shalom, I am meeting people who are seeking the basic things in survival.  Hope to them means that they have food for the weekend and clothes that aren't ripped or too small.  It also means that their kids have a place to go where they aren't sitting in front of the TV or getting into trouble on the streets.  Hope means that grandparents have a place to meet with others who are raising grandchildren.  Hope means discovering that God loves people even when they feel like they are unloveable.

What has impressed me about Hope Community is the fact that it was created based on the desires and needs of the neighborhood in which it was founded.  People walk to the building to get groceries, eat a meal, shop for clothes, and worship God.

This past Sunday afternoon I worked in the food pantry, which is aptly named "Loaves and Fishes."  I worked with two men who are also patrons of Hope.  They came to receive services and decided to also give their time.  Others went to Fiesta Domingo, the Sunday evening meal, and helped clean up.  Some people come to Hope and receive goods and services without helping AND that is okay too! 

Hope can be given and can be received.  Hope can be witnessed and can be experienced.  Look for the Hope that is in our world and share it. 

Will the Rains Come?

After 10 months of no significant rainfall, Lubbock got a downpour last night. I was at the executive session of MCC Lubbock's Board of Directors meeting while it was going on. As we tried to conduct our meeting, we would often become distracted by the sounds of massive amounts of water hitting the doors, windows, and roof. Cracks of lightening brought shared grins.

Our spiritual lives can often be mirrored by the weather. At times I have felt dry and dusty like the drought that still affects Texas. I question if God is present and wonder why I'm not feeling that contact. When a dark, little cloud comes over my spiritual horizon, I remember that God is present in all things and that I am the one who moves away from God. I am reminded that "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens..." (Ecc 3:1)

Then like last night, everywhere I turn I see evidence that God is working in my life. Sometimes I feel so refreshed by the impact of God that I want to run out in the streets dancing for joy, just as many of us wanted to go out in the rain. As God makes wonderful and exciting things happen in my life, I cannot hold back the grin.

I am called by God to remain faithful, to wait for the blessings that God will rain upon me. While I wait, I must continue to do God's will even when the sun feels too hot and the winds scour my skin. AND I must remember that God stands with me through it all.

Virtual Church

Walking around Sunshine Cathedral Second Life, I felt as though I was touring a physical world church. I like the idea that I can click on a study guide and get information about a book or Bible study that will be held there. I also like that I can click on a large video screen and watch a pastor's sermon from a physical church.

The question that springs to mind is: how is this virtual church different from a church's web page? The answer comes when the church service begins. Unlike on a web page, I actually heard the short sermon presented as it was going out to the rest of the attending avatars.

As I participated in the service, I was aware that others shared this encounter with me. The service was a different experience from when I toured the church on my own. I could follow the examples of the more experienced avatars and could add amen or other responses when I desired to do so. I could have also sat and never typed/uttered a word. After the service, some of the more regular attendees spoke to me. Again I was aware that I was not alone during this time.

As Douglas Estes said in SimChurch, some people who have social anxieties find a virtual church to be a safer place to socialize and develop relationships. I can certainly see the advantage when "virtual-world interactions can be far more authentic and far less awkward than real-world relationships...." (27) In addition to those with social anxieties, those people, who are not familiar with mainstream churches, "will prefer to worship in the virtual world because of the flexibility, transparency, diversity, and other innate strengths found in most virtual churches." (28)

The experience of virtual church felt like more than if I'd been on a web page. I felt like I had been somewhere. As someone who doesn't routinely function in the virtual world, I have to say I'm not sure where I've been. If someone who is comfortable moving about Second Life, I can certainly see the appeal of attending church with others who have similar interests.

Virtual Community?

As I examine virtual worlds and avatars, I wonder if I can develop community/relationships while I am the only person in the room. This idea seems crazy when I consider how I developed the current relationships I have at MCC Lubbock. I interact in person to my friends while at church. I "pass the peace" by shaking hands and/or hugging others. Our skin touches.

In the virtual world my avatar can touch others and speak to others, but is it the same? This far-out idea (far out to this 40-something) feels foreign and unwieldy. I'm already awkward in person. In the virtual world, I'm not even sure if that person is talking to me. I don't know how to walk up and have a conversation in this world any better than I do in the physical world.

A few days before the church service at Sunshine Cathedral Second Life, I scoped it out. I tried to walk and ended up on top of a pew and later a table. I don't know how I got up there and wasn't sure how to get off of them. At that point I consoled myself that at least I was in the church on the island where I had planned to be. Earlier I had fallen into the water and took nearly 20 minutes trying to figure out how to get back on dry land.

I found myself saying "Why would anyone want to do this?" As I heard these words in my head, I thought of my dad complaining about Facebook, "Why would you tell people what you are doing and where you are doing it? That's how burglars figure out where to strike next."

...Okay, so maybe I can give this virtual thing another try. After all I have created a community on Facebook where some of my friends are across the country, some are down the street, and most I haven't seen in over a year. If I can be in community in this form, I suppose I could try to it with computer people who have wings or look like cats.

After all I am in relationship with God who is not often present in fleshly form.

Communion

The lights in the sanctuary dimmed in preparation of Communion. The pastor asked everyone to go to God in prayer. I sat silently thinking to myself, “Can I go to Communion? Is it sacrilegious to participate when I didn’t really believe? I need to feel another person’s touch. What am I supposed to do?”

I struggled with my thoughts as the head usher stepped beside my row. The usher had moved on to the next row before I could make my body move. As I stepped into the aisle, I felt like every person knew that I was a skeptic. I gasped for shallow breaths expecting at any moment that someone would tell me to sit down.

When my turn finally came, I went to the first server available. The woman gave me the elements, softly saying, “Receive the body and blood of Jesus.” Then she laid her hand on my shoulder and whispered a quiet blessing. Her gentle touch seemed to tell me that she welcomed me into fellowship with her.

That first Sunday I accepted communion (definitely with a small “c”) with the people of MCC Lubbock. As defined by the dictionary communion can be an “interchange or sharing of thoughts or emotions” and “the act of sharing, or holding in common.” Because I was able to step forward and begin a deeper relationship on that Sunday, I was later able to accept Communion with and from God. I had to learn that others were accessible to me before I could grasp God’s presence in my life.

Sharing the Faith

My class project on evangelism had not gone the way I expected. In fact it would be more accurate to say that I really didn't feel have a project. AND I was flying to Boston for my class where I was expected to have a project. At the airport I said a small prayer to God. I asked that I be given an opportunity to talk about faith with someone along my journey.

On the final leg of my flight, I turned off my Kindle when the flight attendant announced that all electronic devices had to be put away. The man next to me said, “So... how do you like your Kindle?” For a few minutes we talked about the merits of electronic readers as opposed to the traditional paper book. Our conversation continued from there.

Back and forth we asked questions of each other and expressed our experiences with work, life and eventually faith. Although my seatmate didn't categorize himself as Christian, he was concerned that his friends who were Christians didn't seem to do anything with their faith. He talked about how he was disappointed that they didn't feel the need to do any more than sit in a pew on Sunday. As we talked, I heard how he thought believing would bring more changes in their lives. Ultimately the man wondered what good was God if a person wasn't changed by the relationship.

Taking the opening he gave me, I described how lonely and isolated I had felt before I began cultivating my relationship with God. I shared my relief in knowing that I was not alone and that God understood everything that I felt. Although the man did not suddenly embrace God and Christ, we had a conversation that was an opportunity for both of us to share our stories.

At the end of the flight, I knew that I not only had a project, but also rejuvenated faith that God answers prayers. I learned that part of sharing faith is not trying to force the issue, like trying to make a project happen. But rather it is about having conversations with individuals.

Community Center?

Sarah Monroe in her blog, "Rural Renewal?", talks about the possibility that the rural church could fill the role of the community center, rather than trying to continue services "as they have for the last hundred years." She says, "The church could again assert that God is just as concerned with the body as God is with the soul."

As I consider Monroe's opinions, I look around Lubbock, a city of over 260,000 people, and question how Metropolitan Community Church (MCC) Lubbock can address the needs of the GLBT community. In many ways the GLBT community of Lubbock is like the rural communities in Monroe's blog. Many GLBT individuals feel isolated and as though the rest of Lubbock is not a place for them. In Lubbock, there are two regular places where GLBT people can meet each other, the bars or the MCC Lubbock.
They fear church as it was often the first place that said they did not belong and can't or won't find community at the bars.

Should MCC Lubbock's role become as Monroe suggests for rural churches? Can MCC Lubbock and MCCs throughout the world become places where others can find community and by doing so possibly find spiritual growth? Before we can begin helping people become disciples, we have to get them in the door.

Are you in the service industry?

What does it mean to be a follower of Christ? The answer seems to be presenting itself to me around every corner.

As I sit in the airport, I watch people who are in the service industry who are harried as they try to rearrange seats, clean up after spills, and pacify the angry traveler who arrived at the gate as the plane is taking off. If the airport personnel handle disagreements with patience and kindness, the patrons around them often come away with a better view of the airlines and the airport.

As I am writing these words a man splashed his coffee on me. He felt horrible, apologizing over and over. My response to this little accident makes the difference in how I present myself as a Christian. Do I react with anger and live up to the too-often seen Christian in word, but not in walk? Or do I come across as a true follower of Christ and say, "Don't worry about it. You didn't do it on purpose."

Each of us who consider ourselves to be followers of Christ are in fact in the service industry. We meet travelers when they are angry, lost, confused, and often seeking. Our job is to show others about God's grace and as we do this we become better servants for God. Are you ready to serve?

Stranger at the Table

Last Sunday the guest preacher was concluding his sermon as a woman walked into church and moved to sit on the front pew. Our congregation shifted uncomfortably with knowledge that the woman was a stranger, extremely late, and dressed in old, torn clothes. A few whispers were heard as church members struggled with the idea that a stranger would walk past several empty pews to sit on the front row. Concern that she would disrupt our service was what several of us thought.

After the sermon hymn, I moved to the front so that I could consecrate the elements for Communion. I stood behind God's Table and as is the tradition at most MCCs I welcomed all who came seeking God. After distributing the elements to the other servers, I took my place as a server. The woman sat on that front row looking at me with sad eyes and I beckoned to her. She whispered, "Are you sure? I can come? I didn't know if it would be okay." This woman, Glenda, was a stranger at God's Table not because the church members didn't know her and not because God had thrown her away, but because she believed that we, as a church, and God, as divine judge, viewed her as unworthy of receiving grace.

As I began writing about the blessing I received from Glenda's presence, I realized that God was using her to speak to me. Glenda has been a recurring indicator of where God is leading my ministry and today as I write, I finally am listening to what God has to say. Glenda doesn't realized or remember that she and I have met on several previous occasions. Twice she has come to MCC Lubbock, once for a service and another time for our garage sale. Another time I ran into her at my local phone store when I was paying my bill. Each instance I clearly remember our interactions and her ever-present need for acceptance and understanding.

This week as we read and study about ministering off the beaten paths I acknowledge that Glenda is a "big fish" for me. A close friend dubbed each incident of God trying to direct me as a "big fish" and often reminds me that ignoring God's call might land me in the same predicament as Jonah faced. Over the past couple of years I have been trying my hardest to ignore that God is calling me to work outside of a mainstream church. Although I have acknowledged that I will probably be ministering to those who feel rejected by society, I have celebrated the idea that God wants me to serve those who are on the fringes of society and who may feel excluded from conventional churches.

Last Sunday as I held Glenda while she sobbed, I recognized that I not only embraced a hurting woman, but also the idea that I was made to minister to others who feel removed from God. This one opportunity wasn't terrifying or taxing. In fact I felt joy from comforting Glenda and showing her the love that God has put in each of our hearts. God has created me to welcome the stranger to the table and then sit with him or her while we eat.

Monster Outside the Closet Door

Many of my childhood nightmares remain fresh and clear in my mind. A significant one for this time of year deals with tornadoes. I run through my house being chased by a great monster. I hide in the back of my mother's closet, trying to control my gasping breath. The monster in the form of a tornado searches for me. I am by myself. No one is available. I am alone. Although I am hidden behind Mom's closet door, I am able in my dream state to see what is going on outside of the closet. I am hyperventilating as it heads toward their bathroom and thus toward their closets. The monster is going to find me....

Yesterday was the 40th anniversary of the F5 tornado that almost destroyed Lubbock and the beginning of this nightmare of mine. Every year the media inundates Lubbockites with memories of these events from 1970. The town seems to be unable to let these memories go. As much as I groan and roll my eyes during this time, I also hang onto this 40-year-old event.

In May of 1970, I was two-years-old. My family's farms were 40 miles northeast of Lubbock and we had more time to get to safety than most of the Lubbock citizens had. I remember sitting on the blue-striped mattress in my great-grandmother's dark cellar. Lantern light barely touched the surrounding area and didn't quite reach the corners. My brother, David, and I clung to each other on the cot as the adults clustered together discussing the frightening event. Granny, my great-grandmother, wanted to see what was going and kept running up the narrow staircase. Grandpa, her son, would chase after her trying to get her to come back downstairs. Finally Daddy would usher them both back downstairs. A few minutes later the whole scenario would happen again.

As was common for me in times of anxiety, I sat in silence observing all the commotion around me. Except for David, I felt like I was floating alone in the ocean. A great distance of water separated us from the safety of family and grown ups. The tornado in my young mind was a monster that was strong enough to frighten adults and therefore could crush me with its mighty fist. How could I not be terrified?

Until I reached late adolescence, I had many nightmares in addition to the tornado monster and in most of them I was alone and separated from my parents. At some point in my life, I began believing that I couldn't count on anyone other than myself. My rational self realizes that this statement is very unfair to my parents and brothers. I developed this understanding separate from them through my misconceptions. This monster outside my closet door was not solely the tornado, but was in fact my feelings of isolation and abandonment. Like so many monsters, it intimidated me into silence. "Don't tell. THEY will use your fears against you. Don't give anyone power over you. No one can help you."


Sadly these anxieties have recently bubbled to the surface. I hide from the loneliness monster by putting on a brave face. As I consider the road ahead of me, I know that I cannot continue to exist behind this closet door. I struggle with the fear that I will not have the intimacy of a life partner because I remain closed off.

So today I face my fears of being alone. I face the monster that has lived outside my closet door for 40 years and I am still afraid.

Flying Away

Sometimes the responsibilities get to be too much. How can I balance what I feel called to do spiritually when I am so tired AND busy? Recently I have divested myself of some of my responsibilities at church.

I have been struggling with this feeling of too much for quite a while. I was very engrossed in taking care of everyone else and stopped taking care of myself. Finally the realization that I was feeling angry and bitter about my "duties" helped me understand that I wasn't doing anyone any good by keeping these assignments on my plate. In fact I was probably hurting a great many people because I resented my obligations.

My friend, Theresa, put it all into perspective when she was talking about what she and her spouse, Charla, were doing for their church. She said that although they had a lot of pressure on them, they knew that what they were doing was what they were called to do. They were working on their ministry. As she told me this, I realized that what I was so desperately trying to hold onto was not in fact my calling or ministry. I was no longer fed by being Worship Ministry Leader or Coordinator. When I stopped being fed, I was no longer able to feed others.

Part of this awareness is necessary because as I grow in my calling from God, I also grow from my home church. As my school advisor and friend, Julie, explained to me, I am preparing to move away from this home to make a place elsewhere. I am an adolescent preparing to fly out of the nest and I am struggling with my independence and fears of leaving the security of my home.


Some part of me does not want to leave this place that has become my shelter and comfort. MCC Lubbock became my rock when I was floating in the abyss of depression and loneliness. I want to throw myself down on the ground, kicking and screaming as a two-year-old. "NO! NO! NO! I won't leave! I won't! You can't make me!" But another part of me is craving MORE and knows that this "MORE" is found elsewhere. I have to continue preparing myself for the eventual leave-taking that must occur. With the help of my loved ones, my family, I will continue to grow until my wings are strong enough to take me somewhere else. For what has been, for what is, and for what will be, thanks be to God!

Holy Week

Holy Week is such a busy time at MCC Lubbock as it is at many churches. Set up for Maundy Thursday. Set up foot washing stations. Have the service for Maundy Thursday. Clean up from Maundy Thursday. Set up for Good Friday. Have the service for Good Friday. Clean up from Good Friday. Stuff Easter eggs. Prepare Easter breakfast. Get up at 6 am. Have the sunrise service. Clean up from Easter Breakfast. Set up for Easter 11 am service. Have Easter service. Have Easter egg hunt.

Whew! Somewhere in the midst of all the hustle and bustle of this time of year, congregants are expected to find a way to undergo a tiny bit of what Jesus experienced. Sometimes we get lost in all the duties and expectations and don't take the time to feel what all the services are supposed to allow us to feel.

The Seder Meal that we celebrate every other year at MCC Lubbock is of particular significance to me. We break the matzah, the unleavened bread of bondage. Just as the Israelites were in servitude to the Pharaoh, we continued to be bound by ignorance, oppression, and fear. The bitter herbs or maror are eaten to symbolize the bitterness of slavery. We must acknowledge that as long as we prosper off of those who cannot escape poverty we are chained to our society just as the Israelites were chained to Egypt. We eat baitzah, a hard-cooked egg, that represents the cycle of birth and death. For me as a Christian the baitzah reminds me that due to Christ's death and resurrection, I have been given the gift of rebirth. The haroseth, which is made of chopped apples, nuts, and wine, signifies the mortar used with the bricks the Israelites made while enslaved by Pharaoh. The sweetness of the haroseth suggests the taste of freedom that comes to me through God's grace. Karpas, parsley or other greens, are eaten as a reminder of new growth that comes each spring. Finally four cups of wine are drunk at various parts of the meal.

Long ago, Jesus shared a similar meal in a borrowed room with his twelve disciples. He ate this symbolic meal as he prepared to be crucified. He was the lamb that was given as a sacrifice for the sins of all people. He went willingly knowing that his pain was necessary to demonstrate the grace that God offered and continues to offer. AND he knew that these events were not going to be an ending, but a beginning.

This year, will you take the time to remember the sacrifices that God made over two centuries ago? Will you stop in the craziness of eggs and chocolate and special dinners to commemorate the joy that this season represents? Like Mary Magdalene at the tomb, will you cry out to the world, "I have seen the Lord"?