A Note to My Younger Self — A Deeper Family

February 7, 2013 By

 

Last week, Emily Wierenga invited her readers to answer this question: “Would you hang out with your younger self?” I’ve been mulling that one over for a week now. . . and here’s where I landed.

I can see you in my mind’s eye: tall and awkward, outspoken and uncertain and so worried about keeping all the rules. The ones summed up in your mom’s favorite half-joke: “Beware the unguarded moment.”

So that’s what you spent a lot of time doing, isn’t it? Staying on guard. Yet, as I recall, it came sort of naturally to you. Number one child to parents you adored, big sister to two brothers, one right behind you and one far back. You learned early to be bossy, to take charge, to direct events in your small world.

There was a circle of girl friends in high school, mostly the brainy kids, but not all. And there was the church. Oh my, yes, there was the church. As wary of leadership as you were in the school setting, you jumped in with both feet at church. You felt safe there, bounded, encouraged. The youth group was large and active, about 200 kids. And there were adults who cared about you, who invested in your formation as a Jesus-follower, and who knew how to have fun.

You went to confirmation and memorized pieces of the catechism and became a voting member of the congregation at the ripe old age of 14. And you sat in the balcony of that beautiful old Gothic brownstone, writing notes to your friends and trying hard to stifle the giggles. Yet much of the message somehow got through all that stifling and note-writing. You were blessed to hear the sweet notes of grace mixed in with the heavy bass line of rules, and, over time, that’s the tune that stayed with you the longest.

Sadly, however, you did not learn how to sing that song to yourself very well. Yeah, that nasty inner critic started a long, long time ago, amplified by the anxieties and expectations of others.

I’m writing over at A Deeper Family today . . . maybe you’ll join me there?

 

Filed Under: A Deeper Family, Aging, Encouragement, memoir, personal journey

The Heart of It All: Word Candy

February 1, 2013 By

This is a quote (and a picture) that says so much to me!
Because I believe this is the primary call of God to each and every one of us:
to grow up into the persons we’re meant to be —
loving, faithful, whole people who look a lot like Jesus.

HAPPY FEBRUARY, EVERYONE!!

Filed Under: Encouragement, Word Candy, Words

“Own Your Anointing” – Reflections On Sunday

January 28, 2013 By

I must admit that most days, I move through life in a very routine sort of way.
I try to keep up with my family,
to take care of my husband,
to do the errands necessary for the running of a home.

In the midst of all that ordinary,
I sometimes forget who I am.
I slide into the habits of the day like a pair of comfy sweatpants,
and I don’t think about it very much.

Yesterday morning, who I am sort of stepped up and slapped me ‘cross the face.
Kindly, of course. But ever so firmly.
“Wake up, Diana. Wake up!
Remember who you are.“

This is the phrase that did that slapping for me:

OWN YOUR ANOINTING.
Own it.
Live it.
Believe it.

Because that is the most central truth about me,
and I so often slough it off, set it on the back burner,
submerge it beneath the detritus of daily living.

I am anointed.
I am anointed for a purpose.
I am anointed to proclaim and to live the very same
Isaiah-message that Jesus himself read out in that Nazareth synagogue,
over 2000 years ago.

Do you believe this?
That YOU are anointed?
Set apart?
Marked by God?

“Hey,” you  might say to yourself. “Not me. I’m just an ordinary pew-sitter.
Sure, I go to church. I read the Bible . . . once in a while.
I even try to pray. But anointed?
Hey man, not me. I’m nothin’ special.”

Hogwash.

Have you been baptized?
Said ‘yes’ to the call of Jesus, that call that invites you to ‘follow?’

Then you are anointed:
bought with a price,
marked by love,
commissioned to be those who
* announce good news
*proclaim release to the captive
*help blind people see
*free the oppressed.

 As part of our worship experience,
we were privileged to meet two powerful people,
I mean POWERFUL people.
People who wholeheartedly own their anointing,
people who ARE good news as well as bring good news,
people who work hard every single day to
free those captive to ignorance, confusion and fear;
people who bring light to the darkness in the fields of
education and high finance;
people who seek to set the oppressed free. . .
RIGHT WHERE THEY LIVE.

And they live in Uganda.

Dr. John Senyonyi is the President of Uganda Christian University,
an education and training center for over 12,000 students from nearly 20 countries.
The University is located in East Africa,
but draws students from all over the continent.
Many of those students are pastors-in-training,
who learn from skilled teachers how to ‘rightly divide the word of truth,’
before carrying it back to their home churches.

His wife, Dr. Ruth Senyonyi,
is Chief Counselor to the Federal Reserve Bank of Uganda,
with responsibility for the mental health of over 1200 employees.
Everyday, these two people step into their anointing,
living out the gospel in ways
I can barely imagine.

So what, I wonder, does ‘anointing’ look like in my life?
When I write in this space,
or when I comment on others’ writing in spaces much like this one,
I try to maintain an irenic spirit,
to offer words of encouragement and affirmation.
And I think that’s a good thing, an anointed thing, to do.
Most of the time.
But I’m becoming more convicted and convinced
that from time to time, I need to speak with a little bit more . . .
I search for the right word here.
Perhaps that word is ‘anointing?’

Because that water on my head when I was an infant,
those words seared into my brain tissue as an adolescent,
that Spirit that enlivens me,
when I make space for that enlivening —
it needs to make a difference.
A difference in me, a difference in the small spheres in which I move,
a difference in the very air molecules I inhabit.
And that difference is this:
I am one who is called to bring and to be
GOOD NEWS.
I am one who is called to proclaim it,
to preach it — not with words alone, but with the very air I breathe,
the steps I take, the hands I offer, the prayers I raise,
the stands I take, the friendship I extend,
the money I have,
the time I live in,
the energy I expend,
the life I live —

ALL OF IT . . .
all of it.

And that means that when I see or hear something that
‘offends one of the least of these;’
when I witness abuse in any form,
when I see others doing battle, real battle,
against ‘principalities and powers,’
then I need to be the gospel there, too.

And to tell  you the truth, that scares the crap out of me.
I want people to like me, to see me as a person of positive impact and insight.
I care what people think of me.

God help me, I do. A lot.

So, if I am to ‘own my anointing,’ I think it means I’m going to be scared
a lot more than I’m comfortable being scared.
I think it’s going to mean speaking more firmly than I am sometimes
comfortable with speaking.
I, in no way, wish to cause or give offense,
but there is a time and a place to say, ‘enough.’
I can still do my darnedest to say it graciously, kindly, humbly.
And those adverbs are going at the very top of my personal prayer list
every time I open this laptop to write a single word.

But . . .
I am anointed to bring good news,
to proclaim release to the captive,
to offer sight to the blind,
to set the oppressed free.
And people may not always ‘like’ what that looks like.

When Jesus began to speak out his anointing,
the people in Nazareth disliked it so much,
they threatened to throw Jesus right off a cliff.

I am, as always, a work in progress.
So this will take time, thought, prayer and practice.
I’m hoping you’ll help me to embrace
the full extent of my own anointing.
And I am promising to help you to do the same.
Because we need to OWN it.

Yes, we do.

Signing on with the usual Monday crowd, each of whom I love a lot. Michelle, Jen, Ann, Laura:

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Church, church year, community, Encouragement, God's gifts, Holy Spirit, personal journey, Sunday Reflections, Uncategorized, worship

Quiet for the Weekend – January 25-27, 2013

January 26, 2013 By

This place is good for my soul.

It consists of row after row of large, rather ugly warehouses.
And one of those warehouses has a sliding door that opens
to this . . .

. . . and this.
Brilliant colors, exotic shapes, with just a hint of a tropical paradise somewhere.

Phaelonopsis (butterfly orchid). . .

some of them strange and wonderful indeed,

and some of them as familiar as that corsage you wore to the prom 40 years ago.

Just outside another set of sliding doors is the cymbidium garden,
larger pots, less expensive flowers.
And just over their shoulders are these up-and-comers,
mere shadows of the rows and rows and rows behind doors that don’t slide
all over this very large piece of property.

If your local Trader Joe’s stocks orchids, it is likely that some of them came from
warehouses in Santa Barbara and Goleta.
And all this glory is 15 minutes from my front door.

This is the time of year for orchid shows,
and these are some of the newer looking flowers I saw today.
These busy hybridizers are always creating something new and lovely to enjoy.

Just take a gander at this array of color – bright yellow, ivory, chartreuse, deep red.
Oh, my!
Thank you, Lord, for letting us partner with you
in the creation of lovely things.


 

“A woman loves orchids, because they make her feel like she’s floating on a cloud of possibility”.
— from the movie, “A Perfect Man”

Joining with Sandy and Deidra and their invitation to slow down and savor.

Filed Under: Beauty, Encouragement, photography, Quiet for the Weekend, Slowing Down

Come to the Water. . .

January 14, 2013 By

It was a thirsty kind of day.
After three weeks of deadlines and commitments,
the last one was in sight as I backed my car out of our driveway.
I was tired yesterday morning, and nervous.
A speaking/teaching engagement loomed after worship,
at another church in town,
one whose pulse I do not know.
And I am decidedly rusty — no public speaking in over two years now.

I was due to bring cookies for the Coffee Hour today,
and those had been baked and frozen earlier in the week.

Adult Sunday School was starting up again,
and my husband surprised me by wanting to go —
a class with a literary emphasis,
looking at poetry and prose from classic and contemporary writers,
pondering together how their words might be helpful to a life of faith.

So I schlepped my usual too-much-stuff, ready for each separate event of the day:
the cookies, a bag with printed handouts and
suggested books on the topic I’d been invited to teach about,
a cup of hot tea to sip in the Sunday school class,
a tired body and a very thirsty spirit.

The class was rich and good, the teaching excellent,
the conversation lively.
And then I walked into the worship center and I knew:

All that was thirsty in me would be satisfied, satiated, slaked.

The font was front and center, down from its usual place
at the top of the chancel steps,
and the water it contained danced in the sunlight.
A glance at the bulletin showed the baptism of Jesus in Luke’s gospel
as the sermon text for the morning,
and the music . . .
Oh.My. . . the music.

Two of my favorites as we began, setting the tone for the entire
morning of worship.

“Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.
Have mercy on us. (Alleluia) Have mercy on us. (Alleluia). Have mercy on us.
Glory be to the Father. Amen.
Glory be to the Son. Amen.
Glory be to the Spirit. Amen.”

“All who are thirsty, all who are weak, come to the fountain.
Dip your heart in the stream of life.
Let the pain and the sorrow be wash’d away
in the waves of his mercy as deep cries out to deep.
(And we sing) Come, Lord Jesus, come.” 

Listening again to that wonderful text,
those powerful words of affirmation and commission,
given from Father to Son on the banks of the Jordan River
so many centuries ago, it felt as though they were
bouncing around our sun-strewn sanctuary,
newly offered to each one of us.
“You are mine.
You are loved.
You are pleasing to me.” 

And then the invitation —

“COME TO THE WATER — it is here for you.”

And we came.
By the dozens, we came streaming down the aisles,
as the music swirled around us, singing of amazing grace and glorious freedom.

On this second Sunday of the new year, we were given the rich gift
of renewing our baptismal vows,
together,
in worship.
Our pastors read them for us,
we responded firmly with, “We do!”
And then we walked to the front,
to the font,
and we got wet.

Swishing our hands through the cool, clear water,
a finger or a fist,
making the sign of the cross or not,
touching the hand of another coming into the water
from a different direction,
we did this together.
We remembered who we are,
We remembered where we belong,
And we marked ourselves once again with the Water of Life.

Which was exactly what this weary woman needed today.

The speaking/teaching thing went . . . well, it went.
And it was all right. It wasn’t perfect, but it was all right.
And then on my way back home,
I stopped for just a few minutes,
and I came to the water one more time
before heading up the hill.
I came to the primordial waters this time,
the ones that call my name and speak to me of the
immensity of our God.
I sat and stared,
I said, “Thank you!”
I shut my eyes and breathed deeply.

And I went home feeling loved and no longer thirsty.

I have not yet figured out how to embed videos into WordPress. But I have managed to get a link or two here! If you click on this link, you will hear our opening song, as sung by the worship team at Westmont College, which is just up the street from our church. I think our worship director helped arrange the strings that are added to this beautiful rendition. Click on over and then, leave the music playing as you browse the internet. It’s a lovely piece, taken directly from the liturgy of the Catholic mass.
And this is a short, a cappella version of the second song of the morning.

“All Who Are Thirsty”

 

Joining this tonight with Michelle, Jen, Ann and Laura.


 

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Church, church year, community, Encouragement, God's gifts, hope, Music, personal journey, Santa Barbara, The Church, The Sea, Uncategorized, worship

Milestones… Archive-Diving, June 2009

December 18, 2012 By
Reflections on our eldest grandson’s graduation from high school – now THREE years ago. 

Well, it’s here. We are officially OLD. No matter that we started ‘young,’ having babies in our early 20’s and grandchildren in our mid-40’s. Because now, we have a high school graduate. Yes, our eldest grandson, Ben – age 18, a generous, kind, smart, talented and funny young man – has graduated from Oaks Christian High School. Wow. And weird. 


I distinctly remember, like it was yesterday, the anxious early morning phone call: “Come NOW, Mom. My water broke!” Driving to the Burbank airport to catch a nearly empty flight to Oakland, landing in the densest fog I’ve ever seen, hitching a ride from complete strangers to get to Lisa and Mark’s little house on Abbey Street in Pleasanton where I could pick up my own car, left there two weeks before, and driving to the hospital. Where Ben decided not to come, thank you very much, requiring an emergency c-section and then weighing in at 10# 5 oz. Started setting those milestones early!

He was an absolutely fearless toddler and little boy, climbing everything, jumping from dizzying heights, constructing fabulous inventions, painting early masters, figuring out how things worked. Towheaded to a blinding blonde color, blazing blue eyes, energy out his fingertips – he was a wonder to us all. Our first grandchild – nothing short of a miracle.

He grew up in much the same way he began – fearless, inquisitive, capable of amazing technical expertise and with a wonderful artistic eye. When he was 13, he showed interest and ability in photography. So I gave him my original SLR film camera when I bought my first digital.

Immediately, he figured out more things to do with that camera than I ever dreamed about. The kid had talent – real talent. And the school he chose to go to aided and abetted that talent in a big way.

Oaks Christian is an anomaly in education – a huge endowment from an invested grandparent created a magnificent campus, drew gifted administration and faculty members, and made possible absolutely top of the line technical resources. And all of it anchored in solid commitment to discipleship, commitment and mission.

Ben took every class that was offered in both photography and videography, successfully mastering every challenge. His work won first place in multiple shows and he was in demand as the videographer of choice for most of the faculty, from football coaches to dance instructors. He did good! Real good. And we are all so very proud of him.

A tableau of graduation accoutrementes -(clockwise)
robe & stole, fabulous $$ lei made by Ben’s other grandmother, the senior award certificate, diploma and medallion (well the ribbon shows, at least.)

His graduation ceremony was last Thursday afternoon and I drove down to Westlake early in the day to help Lisa with flowers and errand-running. She, as usual, had everything organized to a fare-thee-well, having accomplished both a new roof and a complete re-landscaping of their backyard in preparation for this momentous day. It was a day rich with deep emotion as Mark’s presence was strongly felt through every moment of it. And how grateful I am that Mark was able to participate as fully as he did in his sons’ lives right up until the day he died last fall! He is, I am sure, so proud of these remarkable young men.

Family came from all around southern CA to attend the ceremonies and/or the wonderful dinner party Lisa hosted afterwards. Lisa and Joel, her youngest, held onto 3 rows of seats (Luke, grandson #2, was playing clarinet in the orchestra) and was soon joined by one great-grandmother, a great-uncle, two great-aunts, two sets of grandparents, two cousins on Mark’s side, an uncle, two aunts and two cousins on Lisa’s side – and those 3 rows filled right up! It was a great ceremony! Good speakers, a suitably (and intimidatingly!) impressive valedictory address and a lovely setting.

The big surprise, that hit us all in our communal solar plexus, was that Ben was one of 5 seniors honored with a special award! We knew that he had won the departmental award in art the previous week, but this one was completely unexpected. The 3 ‘prongs’ of an Oaks education are: Leadership, Athletics, and the Arts – and Ben received the medallion and certificate in the Arts.

It was just so lovely to hear the tribute offered by the head of the department, based on the comments of all Ben’s teachers and on Ben’s own fine work and many contributions to the school through his technical and artistic gifts. He proudly wore the medallion for the picture above and it’s inscription is shown in the one below. The actual introduction is printed in italics below the picture. It was written by Ryan Kelley, Chair of the Arts Department at Oaks.

The recipient of the Dallas Price Van Breda Fine Arts Award is a wonderfully talented visual artist. This fine young man has a passion for photography and film that he has shared with all of us at Oaks Christian School. His exceptional photography was recently featured as the cover of our poster and program for our high school art show and his marvelous film work at our dance concert, Define. His creativeness and technical expertise is only surpassed by his generosity. He never turns down a
request to help others; this includes producing numerous football highlight videos, helping teachers with various video needs all the while making full use of our incredible media studio. He is creative, inquisitive and is always the first to try out a new technique. I have no doubt that we will hear his name again – probably announced at the Oscars for best cinematography. And we are all certain that your father is as proud of you today as we all are.
The winner of the Dallas Price Van Breda Fine Arts Award is Ben Fischinger.

The party itself was grand! A great celebration – with another great-grandmother, great-uncle, two more cousins and multiple friends of all ages. And to top it all off, that day happened to be the 15th birthday of Ben’s brother, Luke, another stellar student at Oaks Christian High. It was a rich day – tiring! – but incredibly blessed. We are all full to the brim with gratitude for God’s good gifts of family, education, beauty, love and laughter.
Filed Under: Archive-Diving, birthdays, Encouragement, family, Family Portraits, Fun, memoir

On Retreat – February, 2009 – Archive-Diving

December 18, 2012 By

A remarkably beautiful weekend away with women pastor friends, words and photos I want to save, memories that are precious to me.

Last Friday morning, my husband was kind enough to drive me to the Bob Hope Airport in Burbank on his way to work, so that I could catch a flight to Seattle.

Since the mid-1990s, I have been 1/6th of a group of women pastors ordained in the Evangelical Covenant denomination. Sometimes I wonder what sparks friendship, what bonds people to a commitment to one another. I think we found a certain commonality in our mid-life call to ministry, our shared experiences within the denomination and a rather off-beat sense of the absurd. (As a fine example of that last point, we called ourselves the Ya-Ya Goddesses. Yes, we did.)

About once a year, we tried to gather for a period of retreat – usually about a week long – with days spent in silence and solitude and evenings spent in conversation and community. We searched for someplace beautiful and quiet, some place that would allow us time to savor the goodness of God in the natural world while at the same time enjoying the conveniences of indoor plumbing and cooking facilities. Due to a long list of stresses in all of our lives, it has been almost 5 years since we have attempted to get together and now a weekend opened up for 4 of us and we grabbed it.
I met my friend Nancy in the Seattle airport, picked up a rental car and drove 2 hours north through rush hour traffic to the Stanwood exit, following lovely 2-lane country roads to one friend’s spectacular home and guest apartment on Camano Island.

Oh, my. 
      What a view. 
           What a house. 
                What a welcome. 


Because we have been unable to squeeze out travel time in these last five years, this year’s gathering was filled with catching up, story-sharing, lots of laughter and a few tears here and there – in addition to fabulous food, cooked by Diane and Vicki and cleaned up by Diana and Nancy.

Basically, we had 2 days together rather than our usual 4 or 5, as one whole day on each end was spent in travel. During these years since our last gathering:

     one of us has lost a daughter to breast cancer, 
     one has lost a son-in-law to the after effects of cancer 
               treatment many years ago, 
     one has survived (successfully) a drawn-out lawsuit and 
               built a new home, 
     one has endured terrible disappointment in her job 
               situation and has very recently both remarried and 
               moved from one state to another.

So there was LOTS to talk about.

And talk we did, until fairly late into the evening on Friday and Saturday nights. And on Sunday night? Well, on Sunday night….we ordered pizza by the boxload, enjoyed hot fudge sundaes AND watched the Red Carpet and the Oscars. What more could you ask for?

Diane’s home and apartment mirror each other architecturally and are both lovely to look at and live in. The apartment is dedicated to providing retreat/renewal space for weary pastors – what a glorious gift to offer the church!

When I went back to work on Tuesday, my boss asked me what I had gained ‘spiritually’ while away on retreat with my friends.

At first, I was stymied – this gathering was filled with more talk and less silence than most. But as I thought about his question, I was once again reminded that often very profound things can happen spiritually when you least intend it and seemingly don’t plan for it.

I went away this last weekend in a spirit of openness to whatever God might do with our time together. And it was so good for me to hear something of each of their stories — in order to make better sense — or perhaps to have a better sense — of my own.

For of the six of us, I am the last remaining pastor serving in a local church. Two work in retirement community environments, one teaches, two are ‘retired,’ though both are active in the parish churches they currently attend.

My pastoral role has been a gift to me, to my family and, hopefully, to the churches that I have served. And as I reflected on both the question I was asked and on my time away from the routines of life and work in Santa Barbara, I discovered (or re-discovered) these important truths about myself:
          1. I am a person who needs regular exposure to God’s beautiful creation to function well in ministry and in life.

          2. I am a person who needs some kind of regular interaction with long-time, hold-me-accountable, encourage-my-gifts, listen-to-my-crap friends, friends who know something about me in my local setting but are not a part of that setting.


          3. I am a pastor who is called to serve the Lord in the local church.

          4. I am a pastor who sometimes needs reminding that taking a break, setting a boundary and stepping out of the routine are necessary and important things to do from time to time.

          5. I am a person who, despite being in the throes of long-term, low (and sometimes high)-level-anxiety-and-concern-now-moving-into-grief – I am a person who needs to have some order around her. And that sense of order has just fallen off the cliff during these years of illness and worry in our family.

After seeing the lovely, quiet and restful spaces that Diane has created in her home, I am encouraged and challenged to make such spaces around me in my work environment and in my home office environment. Slowly, slowly, I am going to purge my book collection, get rid of extraneous paper and create workspaces that are conducive to reflection, writing, thinking and prayer.

          6. I am a person who will very likely apply for the next go-round of the Center for Spiritual Direction, offered by our denominational seminary and ministerium. It’s been on the back burner for a number of years, and I think the Spirit is nudging me to move in that direction NOW. (Applications are due March 31.)


So, yes, it appears that some things did happen spiritually during this time away. Thanks be to God – and to really good friends.

Nancy and Diana with Diane
Nancy and Diana with Vicki (Maybe next time, we’ll master that automatic picture-taking thingy.)

Filed Under: community, Encouragement, Friendship, personal journey, Slowing Down, Women in Ministry

Time Out… Archive-Diving, 2008

December 18, 2012 By

Written originally in the fall of 2008, right after the death of our son-in-law, I am once again diving into the draft archives as I prepare to move my blog after Christmas. This is a travel post and I’m saving it primarily for us, as a record of a fun getaway we put together during a particularly difficult time.

Both Dick and I have realized an ever-increasing sense of urgency about taking time out for a few days. A need to leave all things familiar and nest somewhere else together. It’s been quite a year. Enough trauma for a few lifetimes, it sometimes seems.


So after Sunday’s sermon (which was a sermon I needed to hear, and apparently a few others did as well), we went online and found a great deal at a Pismo motel we had never visited before. An ocean-front, two room, 2 bath suite for a great price.

Yes, it’s foggy in Pismo this time of year.
Yes, we already live in a beach community.

But we don’t live on the water and this place isn’t home, with its telephones, messes needing attention, and other assorted distractions – and that, for a little while at least, makes a huge difference.

So we drove up Sunday afternoon, had dinner at a quaint place where, if you like, they’ll throw an entire pot of 3 different kinds of shellfish, corn on the cob and roasted red potatoes all over your table for dinner. That was a little too much for us our first night away, so we settled for some fabulous homemade soups and seafood louie salads. Perfect.

The next day, after sleeping in a bit and enjoying what is euphemistically called a ‘continental’ breakfast at this lovely resort (it actually consists of a great deal more than that, including two waffle makers into which you pour a cup of batter, set the timer and enjoy), we got in the car for a little exploration.

I love to explore new places! Get in the car and drive, then get out of the car and walk. First we drove to the Pismo Pier, which we walked. (The top photo was taken from the pier, looking back toward our motel.)

Next, we went to Arroyo Grande – a charming member of the Five Cities here on the northern central coast. This is their ‘famous’ swinging bridge, which like everything else in the downtown area and environs, is exquisitely well-maintained and fun to see. After you cross the bridge, there is a small historical building site – with a schoolhouse, a Victorian home and a barn (all, only open on weekends, so no tours) plus a lovely town park with a regular River City bandstand in the middle.

They are currently tidying up their town for this weekend’s ‘world famous’ strawberry festival and we had a wonderful conversation with a woman, about my age, who was very happily painting pictures of strawberries on the store windows of the downtown area.

“How’d you get into this business?” I asked. “Well, 35 years ago, I was working for a bank and they knew I had an art degree. So they asked me to do some windows at the bank. I hadn’t a clue, but began to make friends in the sign industry and gradually, just built up my own little business. I’ve been doing it ever sense. It’s a great job – allowed me flexibility to raise my kids, takes me to all the surrounding little towns and I love being in the outdoors!”

Cool!
The flowers in this small berg are beautiful, as you can see from these floribunda roses which were screaming out at us in front of the one-room schoolhouse. And soon, there will be new trees all down Branch Street, which is the main drag.

All in all, a very fun outing. We had a flyer for something called “Doc Bernstein’s Ice Cream Laboratory” which we found and entered with enthusiasm. They invent their own flavors and we each enjoyed two scoops as a finishing treat to our walkabout. As you can see, Dick LOVES ice cream.

Next, we decided to follow the road out to Lopez Lake, a spot we had often wondered about, but never visited. Lovely drive, but probably no return trip planned anytime soon. It’s another of California’s large reservoirs that are labeled lakes and allow boating and fishing but no swimming. A few nice campsites out there and this small deer, chomping away.


We ended the afternoon at the 10-plex movie theater, watching “The Soloist.” I had read such mixed reviews on this film that I was hesitant, at first. It is a bit too long and sometimes confusing to listen to – but I think in many ways, that was intentional. I love the director – Joe Wright (of “Pride and Prejudice” and “Atonement” fame) and I enjoy both Robert Downey Jr. and Jamie Foxx, so it was absolutely worthwhile just to see some of the interesting directorial choices and the acting chops of these two fine performers.

And it was deeply troubling, too. The condition of the homeless mentally ill in the city of Los Angeles, indeed, in all cities in our country, is simply devastating.

And there was a voice-over line at the end that just tore at my heart, especially in light of the sermon I had worked on last week. It went something like this. “Nathaniel is still sleeping indoors and he is still mentally ill. Some experts have told me that the simple act of having a friend for a year may actually change his brain chemistry enough to help him stabilize a little.”

Having a friend can change brain chemistry??? Who knew? I think perhaps Jesus understood this powerful truth when he told his disciples, “I have called you friends.”

I’m so glad I am enjoying the gift of a few days alone with my very best friend.
Filed Under: Archive-Diving, Encouragement, family, Family/Travel, Friendship, Marriage, Travel

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 6

December 7, 2012 By

“I don’t think, friends, that I need to deal with the question of when all this is going to happen. You know as well as I that the day of the Master’s coming can’t be posted on our calendars. He won’t call ahead and make an appointment any more than a burglar would. About the time everybody’s walking around complacently, congratulating each other — ‘We’ve sure got it made! Now we can take it easy!’ — suddenly everything will fall apart. It’s going to come as suddenly and inescapably as birth pangs to a pregnant woman. 

But friends, you’re not in the dark, so how could you be taken off guard by any of this? You’re sons of Light, daughters of Day. We live under wide open skies and know where we stand. So let’s not sleepwalk through life like those others. Let’s keep our eyes open and be smart. People sleep at night and get drunk at night. But not us! Since we’re creatures of Day, let’s act like it. Walk out into the daylight sober, dressed up in faith, love and the hope of salvation.

God didn’t set us up for an angry rejection but for salvation by our Master, Jesus Christ. He died for us, a death that triggered life. Whether we’re awake with the living or asleep with the dead, we’re alive with him! So speak encouraging words to one another. Build up hope so you’ll be together in this, no one left out, no one left behind. I know you’re already doing this; just keep on doing it.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11, The Message


Generally speaking, I am not a huge fan of apocalyptic literature. Don’t like dystopian novels (except for Margaret Atwood), am easily pushed to metaphor fatigue by the book of Revelation. There are days when I really, really wish Jesus had not talked as much as he did about The Last Days. 

And then there are the letters to the Christians at Thessalonica. Written early in Paul’s ministry, they show us more clearly than anything else that the early church believed themselves to be living in the last days, at least initially. And for some reason, that has always bothered me a little. 

Or it used to.

However. . . this passage, this one right before us today, on the first Friday of Advent 2012, this one I have come to love. A lot. In fact, I believe it contains some of the most important teaching of all the epistolary writing in the entire New Testament. Why? Because it tells us how to live while we wait. 

And we are always waiting, aren’t we? Waiting for something, someone, some time. Here is a definition of the verb “to wait”: ‘to stay in place in expectation of; to remain stationary in readiness or expectation; to look forward expectantly; to be ready and available.’ (Courtesy of Merriam-Webster online dictionary)

While we wait — in a spirit of expectation and readiness and availability — Paul instructs us to: 
      *remember who we are
      *keep our eyes open
      *be smart
      *dress for the occasion
      *speak words of encouragement and hope to one another

And it is that last one that resonates with something deep inside: encourage one another. Offer good words, hopeful words, loving words. Now that’s the kind of apocalyptic writing and thinking and living I can get excited about. 

How do you encourage others? And how are you encouraged as you wait?

Lord, you know how weary I am with doom-mongers — always a discouraging word to be heard, always a fearful worldview to be touted, always an us vs. them mentality. I am exhausted by that attitude. Especially when I feel it creeping into me, into my thought life — even into my language. Help me to read these good words from Paul again and again, especially when I feel discouraged by life, by the church, by the world. And help me to choose, every day, to push through the discouraging word and find an encouraging one; to make the move from passive resignation to active anticipation, trusting that there are good things yet to come.





Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, Encouragement, hope, prayer

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 5

December 6, 2012 By
These pictures were taken in 1967 in what is now Zimbabwe, at Matopos National Park. The second and third of these three shots are of the same oddly shaped and extremely large rock with a sheltering ledge built right into it. The paintings drawn under that ledge attest to it’s use as a safe refuge. 

“Truly my soul finds rest in God;
my salvation comes from him.
Truly he is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.
How long will you assault me?
Would all of you throw me down —
this leaning wall, this tottering fence?
Surely they intend to topple me
from my lofty place;
they take delight in lies.
With their mouths they bless,
but in their hearts they curse.
Yes, my soul, find rest in God;
my hope comes from him.
Truly he is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
My salvation and my honor depend on God;
he is my mighty rock, my refuge.
Trust in him at all times,  you people;
pour out your hearts to him,
for God is our refuge.
Surely the lowborn are but a breath,
the highborn are but a lie.
If weighed on a balance, they are nothing;
together they are only a breath.
Do not trust in extortion
or put vain hopes in stolen goods;
though  your riches increase,
do not set  your heart on them.
One thing God has spoken,
two things I have heard;
‘Power belongs to you, God,
and with you, Lord, is unfailing love;’
and, ‘You reward everyone
according to what they have done.”
Psalm 62, TNIV

Whenever I read this psalm, I imagine the one who wrote it sitting high in the hills, looking out over some kind of rocky land mass. I have never been to Israel, but I have been to central Africa and as I read through this song for today, I remembered the overwhelming size of the rocks we saw there. Looking at such large, looming boulders is both daunting and deeply reassuring. 

The psalmist sings out — cries out — for such reassurance, for refuge, for shelter, for a place to hide away, safely enfolded by God’s goodness and strength. There is an expressed need for bigness, for some sort of reminder that God is larger and stronger than any enemies who might be threatening. The singer wants to feel safe. And so the ‘controlling metaphor’ for his song is a great, big rock. A fortress-sized rock. An unmovable refuge.

We all want to feel safe. Yet we live in a decidedly unsafe world, with enemies of various kinds on all sides. Fiscal cliffs, sick children, struggling parents, and the very worst enemies of all — the voices inside our own heads, the ones that tell us we are worthless, useless, unloved and unwanted. 

Advent invites us to sit with that unsafe feeling for a while, to listen to it — but also to speak back to it. Because Advent also invites us to sit with an expectant young mom and her brave husband, to join them in their waiting, in their uncertainty. And in their amazing trust. There is much we can learn from these two ordinary people, chosen by God for such extraordinary work. 

I imagine that God alone was their Rock, their safe place, during much of the journey to Christmas morning. 

I imagine that this very song was one of their favorites. I know it is one of mine.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me . . . there isn’t a rock on this planet large enough to picture YOU. But somehow, these earthy reminders help us to remember that you are bigger, stronger, more sheltering, and far safer than any trouble, struggle, or enemy we may encounter along the way. You never promised us an easy road; you promise us your presence in the midst of it. Thank you for being our Rock and our Refuge.


Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, Encouragement, hope
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