Gratitude

Gratitude is more than just giving thanks, it is about finding joy in the things that make up our lives. It is about finding happiness in the simple things. It is about being present in all of the moments of our lives - good, bad, happy, sad, loving, angry, faithful, frustrated, etc. 

I am grateful. I am joyous. I am present. I am happy. But most of all, I give thanks for my life, for my faith and vocation, for all of my family and friends, and for the moments that make me understand how blessed I am.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Wounded Faith

 This morning I was checking out my Facebook feed and saw the above photo that intrigued me greatly.  It was on the status of a clergy friend who often posts funny photos of himself photoshopped into some absurd situation or onto someone else’s body. So I was intrigued by the seriousness of the image – which I thought was a bit uncharacteristic.

When I really looked at it, I was reminded of the many times my Grandmother or Mom would tell me that I could survive anything through faith and that Jesus was bigger than any of my problems or issues. But there were definitely times in my life when my issues, problems, concerns, or drama seemed much bigger than my faith, bigger than Jesus, and definitely bigger than my understanding of God.

But I distinctly remember being told the opposite as I was growing up. “God doesn't give us more than we can handle,” I was told. Well, if that’s true, then evidently God has a higher opinion of what I can handle than I do.

Now I have to be honest about my life. I am a white, middle-class, highly educated, well employed, fairly healthy American woman. I am a Protestant in a vibrant community of faith and work in a vocation that I love and enjoy immensely. I have good health care and options for where I go to receive treatment when I am sick. I have a home that is warm and comfortable. My son is in a great school and had the ability to apply to multiple magnet schools for high school next year. I have an amazing family – my family of origin and my family of choice— and I know that I am richly blessed.

So how bad could my problems be? Right?

We all have secret pain. We all have brokenness. We all have wounds that do not fully heal despite all the salve we put on them. The truth is that no matter our circumstances in life – there is still heartache, pain and wounds.

Sometimes the pain comes from wounds that we are too frightened to talk about to others. Sometimes it comes from things we had no control over. Sometimes it comes from bad decisions we made in our past. Sometimes it comes from the evil some people do to others. Sometimes it comes from how society treats people that are deemed “others.” And sometimes it is what we do to ourselves.

No matter how we get these wounds - they are real. The pain is real. The feelings that the wounds and pain are bigger than Jesus – bigger than God—are real.  And no easy answers and pithy slogans on photos makes that pain go away. I know that.

But I believe that God helps to heal our wounds if we open our lives to that. I believe that our faith can and does help us survive difficult situations in our lives. I do believe that God is big enough to take our pain, to take our anger, to take our frustrations, and to take our brokenness and help us begin to heal.

For me that healing comes from my faith, from my church community, from my understanding of God’s desire for the best for me, and from the love with which I am surrounded every day.  For me healing comes in the Eucharistic meal I participate in every week with my seminary community and monthly with my community of faith. For me healing comes from a faith life that includes prayer, reading the scriptures, spending time in spiritual practices, and honoring my personal faith needs.

But even those powerful parts of my life do not automatically heal all of my wounds. Some wounds are even deeper than I want to admit. I am trying to be open to healing and wholeness. But I still have the wounds. They have shrunken over the years but I still have the scars. There has been healing and renewal, but that does not make me immune from new pain. There have been moments of complete clarity about my life and other times when everything was foggy. And I know that in all of those situations, God was with me. God was bigger than my pain, but I had to open myself to the possibility of healing. I had to stop focusing on the wounds so that I could feel the power of the healing.

The healing was sometimes as painful as the wounding—because it often involved forgiving the person(s) who injured me. And the healing was not always complete because I often held onto the pain since it was so personal to me.  And it had been such a part of my journey.

Healing comes if we open ourselves to the possibilities. It can be slow and difficult.

Wounds are not bigger than we are. Pain is not bigger than we are. Even though they feel like that sometimes – they are not bigger than God.

I have to remember that – I think that we all do. 

Whiny Thanks and All ...

I have just finished, I hope, one of the busiest periods of my professional career.  And I am exhausted. I have finished my first book, been on the curriculum revision committee at the seminary where I teach, created a brand new course and taught it this semester, had a lot going on in my church and personal life, presented at the meeting of my professional guild, and have taken on too many writing obligations than I should have. So I am beat.

But I am also so amazingly aware of how blessed I am. I have a family I love, a job I adore, students who inspire me, writing jobs that challenge and engage my mind, and I love to teach new and old courses alike. So I am blessed.

I watch friends and even family members struggling without jobs or suffering in jobs they do not enjoy or are not fed by. I watch colleagues struggling with job searches and reduced teaching loads. So I am thankful.

I have not blogged in a while because my writing was focused on my book. I have not felt good about it and have complained because I missed it terribly. But I hear friends and colleagues struggling to get what they want to say on paper and I am aware again how lucky I am to have these projects and contracts to write. So I am appreciative.

Many times, however, when I am busy and tired - I whine. Many times when I over schedule - I whine. Seldom do I stop - and just sit in gratitude and bask in the blessing.

So this past month I took on the Gratitude Challenge on Facebook. I wrote every day of the month of November about things I was grateful for. Some were silly ... like being thankful for ice-cream. Some were situationally based ... like being grateful for a fantastic sermon preached in class by one of my students.  Some were family focused ... like being grateful for the heritage passed on to me from previous generations and the chance to pass them on to my son.

Some were about vocational and personal happiness ... like being grateful for a job I love and the terrific house that is part of my compensation and the chance to live in our wonderful community. And some were deeply personal ... like being thankful for the safety of my son when some friends of my niece were in a terrible auto accident. And some were intensely spiritual ... like being grateful for being part of my faith community in its inclusive, progressive, challenging, incarnational, and prophetic reality.

I am writing this after Thanksgiving week and at the end of the Gratitude Challenge on Facebook - a natural time to stop and give thanks. And I am immensely thankful for all of these things, people, situations, communities, etc. But today I also want to say thanks for keeping me busy, for making me crazy with deadlines, for my family and community, and for obligations that bless me and my vocation.

I may still whine and complain when I allow too much on my plate, but even in those times I want to stop and say thank you. I am grateful for my life - and all that is part of this fantastic existence that God has blessed me with.

Thank you, God for my life - in the craziness and in the calm.

Thank you, God for my family - in their lovely absurdity and in their caring.

Thank you, God for my faith - in the times of doubt and in the moments of certainty.

Thank you, God for my job - in the crush of papers and in the moments of grace.

Thank you, God for my church - in the challenges and in the growth.

Thank you, God for my parents - in their aging issues and in their spry youthful joy.

Thank you, God for my writing - in the moments it rocks and in the ones when it sucks.

Thank you, God for your presence - in all times and in all places.

Thank you, God, again, for my life - in the blessings and in the pain.

Thank you, God.

Surviving the Storm

Photo taken by Julie Pohl

The above image is of a hymnal from a United Methodist Church destroyed in a tornado on February 29, 2012 in Harveyville, Kansas. The hymnal survived.  It was found in the midst of absolute ruin.  It was beaten and battered – but it survived.  It is proof that things -- and I believe humans, as well -- can and do survive the storms that come into our lives.  Yes, damage can be left in the wake of storms and it can be devastating but it can also provide for growth, change, new possibility and re-creation can occur.

Sometimes we wonder how we are supposed to endure all that comes our way.  Sometimes it feels as if we are living a life of sheer survival.  Sometimes we feel like the good moments are merely reprieves between the storms. 

But the truth is … life is a blessing.  That blessing is a series of ups and downs.  It is a bounty of experiences and opportunities.  It is a feast of people, places, and events that are part of our journey.  It is a journey that is rich with possibilities and options.

In my younger days, I would moan and complain about the “crap” that would pile one on top of the other in my life.  I thought it was some horrid test that I was failing. Illness, car expenses, lost jobs, stresses, and other stuff seemed to come over and over.  It felt like evil and negativity were laying traps for me.  It was frustrating.

I remember hearing that God never gives us more than we can handle.  But, I thought, obviously God was overestimating what I could handle.

As I have matured in my faith, I understand that God is not testing me ... it’s life.  Life happens.  Good things come our way and difficulties do, as well.  It is the cycle of reality.  We have mountains and valleys.  If we focus on the valleys – we will miss the amazing journey up and around the mountain – and the view from the top.  If we only focus on the mountain top we feel betrayed when we find ourselves in the valley.  It’s the whole journey – not one extreme or the other – that helps us grow in our life and in our faith.

As Brian McLaren writes:  “Yes, thank God, in this life there are green pastures, still waters, overflowing cups, and laden banquet tables. But there are also valleys of the shadow of death in which evil lurks and enemies wait for a misstep or mistake upon which to pounce. To sustain us through those dark valleys, we are given simple words of aspiration, refusal, and lament: when?, no, and why?” (word 9, from Naked Spirituality pp. 181)

And what I trust is this -- “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”  Philippians 4.13:  (NRSV).  Or maybe another version works for you:  “Christ gives me the strength to face anything.” (CEV)  This passage is so important in my life.  It reminds me that I am strong – I can survive – because Christ has given me strength to survive and thrive.

No matter what – mountain or valley or in between – we are not alone.  We are not too weak to endure.  Christ is with us on our journey.  Christ strengths us to endure. 

The journey continues …

40 Days of Looking at Ourselves

‎"In many cultures there is an ancient custom of giving a tenth of each year’s income to some holy use. For Christians, to observe the forty days of lent is to do the same thing with roughly a tenth of each year’s days. After being baptized by John in the river Jordan, Jesus went off alone into the wilderness where he spent forty days asking himself the question what it meant to be Jesus. During Lent, Christians are supposed to ask one way or another what it means to be themselves."  ~ Frederick Buechner

Spending the 40 days of Lent each year pondering one’s life and faith is a wondrous thing.  Spending the intentional time reconciling oneself to their sinful nature and their need for redemption is essential.  Spending time in prayer and fasting is good for the soul. 

Spending time differently by adding reading scriptures, working at a charity organization, or taking on some other self-reflective or activity is an important part of a Lenten Journey. Some of my friends and colleagues take on some very special projects during Lent – thereby giving up other things they might be doing during that time of service.

Spending time pondering life and faith during a time of sacrifice and denial can be amazingly renewing.  Although giving something up you dislike already can be less inspiring – in my humble opinion.  (A friend is giving up mean people, artichokes, and standing in line.)  Many folks give up very significant things during Lent to remind themselves of the sacrifice needed to prepare for Easter still to come.

Asking oneself, as Buechner suggests, what it means to be oneself is good for the soul.  But it can be a difficult thing to do.

Looking within is sometimes tough.  Looking within means seeing the rawness of our sinfulness, the wounds of our mistakes, and the abject need of redemption and reconciliation in our lives.  Looking within can bring us to a place of serious need … to examine our lives and to recommit to the journey of faith.

This Lent my prayer is that you take the time to look within, to evaluate what your life is about, and to find a way to see yourself differently when Easter Morning comes this year.

The time is now – to spend the next 40 days looking within.  You might not like all that you see, but now is also the time to change that. 

Asking what it means to be you as a person of faith can be tough but it can also be a gift.  May your Lenten Journey of self-discovery be a blessed one. And may this season bring you closer to the One who created all that you are.

I Am NOT Old!

I went to get my eyes checked this week and had to list my age, allergies, and current prescriptions on the patient information page.  (Five meds I take daily.)  I had to list my allergies to medications.  (I had a couple. Namely, penicillin)  And I had to do a glaucoma and cataracts test.  (Good for now.)

Then I started the actual eye exam.  And the 20 something Doctor said to me, "At your age ... needing to go up in the power of the reading level of your no line trifocals is normal."

"At my age ...". Seriously?  I am not even 50 yet.  How old does the young man think I am?

Was that a slap at my age or just a simple statement by the guy?  It could be taken as either but I took it as a little bit of a slap ... even though I laughed with him.  I do have very salt and pepper colored hair (although more salt than pepper these days), but I am not even eligible for AARP yet.  I do have arthritis and high blood pressure (but I blame sports injuries and my family genetics for those).  I am one of the older parents of kids in my son's class but not the oldest.  And I guess I do have friends from high school who are posting pictures of their grandkids on Facebook. 

But I am NOT old.

Then I started thinking about age.  Was it really a slap?  My parents are in their mid-70s and are the youngest 70+ people I know.  And despite the periodic colds, sinus infections, and aches from arthritis - I am in good health.  Yes, I need to lose weight, exercise more, and eat better - all 2012 goals - but overall I am in good health.

Age is something we joke about as a culture.  Some folks hide or deny their age.  Some folks get plastic surgery to not look their age.  Some even try unconventional remedies to stave off aging.

Me ... not so much.  I will be 50 this year and I relish it.  I am enjoying my Jubilee year.  I have pretty grey hair and I earned every single one of them.  I have creaks and groans but I am still moving.  I have laugh lines by my eyes and I am glad I took the journey that gave them to me.

I have a son who keeps me young (he has also aged me but I like the other fact better). I have friends who keep me laughing and enjoying life.  I have a family that loves me and inspires me.  I have a vocation that lets me share who I am and my gifts in ways that make me light up constantly.

I have grown in faith over the years, become more confident with who I am, and lived through some tough times that helped me to be who I am now.  I have deepened my relationships with my family and know my place in the world.  God has blessed me in numerous ways. And I am thankful for it all.

So, aging ... bring it on.  My life has only gotten better with age.   Just don’t call me old.  I’m just gently used … experienced … perfected with time.  

Whatever you call it … bring it on.

Ok, maybe I’d like to have a few less creaks and groans, but still ... bring it on.

10 Reasons Why I am a Political Junkie

Someone asked me the other day why I am so interested in politics.  They wondered why I watch CNN and C-SPAN, read political news and blogs, and pay close attention to the debates and public discourse of our political leaders and system.  Their reason … and they admitted it … is that they find it all too distasteful and polemical to watch anymore.  So here are my reasons for being part of the process by being a political junkie:

1.  I want to be part of the solution by being an informed voter.  So I pay attention to what candidates are saying during the election cycles – knowing they will likely not get everything done they promise during the campaign but it is important to note what they value and fight for once in office.

2.   Even national politics are local.  The decisions made in Washington affect my life in real ways – my taxes, the roads I drive on, the health care I have access to, the rights my family is afforded (or not), and the ways my son’s education is administered – just to name a few.

3.   I want to participate in creating dialogue between opposing sides of political debates.  This is hard to do but occasionally it can be an amazing process from which to learn and grow. (It can also be extremely difficult and painful – but I believe it is still worth the effort and risk.)

4.  I want to know where my tax dollars are being spent.  Sometimes I agree and sometimes I don’t but it is a good thing to know.  And if I disagree – I contact my representatives and let them know what I think about their decisions.

5.  Every once and a while you see our leaders come together to do something good.  This is rarer than I would want it to be, but it does happen.  Examples – and you may disagree – are increasing the number of kids receiving health care and keeping insurance companies from excluding people based on pre-existing conditions, caring for our planet, taking care of those less fortunate, and providing income help to those who have lost jobs.

6.   Being a participant and voting in every election since I turned 18 years of age allows me to complain with full confidence and integrity.  (LOL!)   I also know folks who never vote but whine all the time about elected officials.  This drives me crazy.

7.  C-SPAN can actually be fun to watch.  It shows us the “sausage making procedure” that is our political process.  It is often ugly and the ingredients are gross but the end result can be enlightening.

8.  I want my son to be part of the election and political process so we watch TV together and discuss the issues.  He is a very informed 13 year old.  He is concerned with the state of our political system and how it will affect his future so he wants to know what is happening.  That makes me proud.  (He also wants to be part of a political protest march someday.  We have marched against gun violence locally but he wants to march for/against something in Washington DC.)

9.  I can impact my community by advocating for new laws that protect the rights of the marginalized, disenfranchised, and powerless.  I can work to limit access to guns by person’s ineligible for purchasing them.  I can work to expand the rights of families who need protection.  I can convey to my elected officials what I value as they debate legislation.  This is the power of one vote – one voice combined with others.

10.  There are moments when I am proud of the system.  Like this week’s celebration of Rep. Gabby Giffords’ service to the House of Representatives.  The touching moment at the State of the Union and the next day's tribute were amazingly uplifting – from both sides of the aisle.  It reminded me of how we can be as a people.

These are just some of the reasons I am an active participant in the political process.  And obviously it is such a tough topic to discuss that I am sure some of you will disagree with my politics - but maybe we at least can agree on why we care.

Winter at the Beach!?

Going to the beach in the winter is not something I had ever thought much about.  In the best of circumstances I am not really a beach person.  I do not like the feel of sand in my clothes or between my toes.  I do not drink tropical drinks with little umbrellas in them.  I am not a super strong swimmer and the rough surf beats my knees up.  And I do not like to be in the sun too much.  I have, however, been on a number of beach vacations with family and friends.  Mainly I go to the beach because of my son and my friends.  They like the beach – in fact, they love the beach.  My son loves the water, making sand castles, riding a boogie board on the waves, and flying kites at the beach.  Me ... not so much.

I like being comfortable. I like TV, the Internet, my comfortable chair, and good leisure times.  But roughing it is not something I do.  And my definition of roughing it is pretty narrow.  I always say roughing it is staying in a hotel without room service.  So beach going is not really my "thang."

So when I found out the second leg of my Wabash Pre-Tenure Seminary Faculty group was meeting at Mustang Island in Texas – in the winter - I was less than thrilled, but open to going to a place 60 degrees above where it was at home when I left. So I thought I would give winter beach going a try (plus we are required to attend as part of our fellowship).

So off I went to the beach ... in the winter ... in Texas.

The first afternoon I walked the beach with one of my Wabash colleagues and caught up on job and family stuff.  It was a great visit.  I took pictures of birds, waves, and sand dunes.  I listened to the surf and watched the sunset.

The next morning I woke up to the sounds of waves and birds from my room.  It was amazing.  We had been told that if we wanted to get in the water there were two things to remember:  1) the water is VERY cold and 2) you have to do the "stingray shuffle" to avoid getting stung by the stingrays in the water.  The cold water was enough to keep me away.  Then they warned us about stingrays in the water and rattlesnakes in the brush.  So now I was completely ok with staying out of the water, on the boardwalk, and in the safe places.

But this place was growing on me.  How could it not?

God is in the rhythm of the waves, the beat of the birds' heart and wings, the gentle touch of the breeze, and the laughter/conversation with my friends.  I am taking the slow approach to being at the beach in winter.  There are no children needing to be entertained, no sand castles to be judged, and no bogie boards to go retrieve from the waves – which is the usual pattern of my family time at the beach.  It's just me and my thoughts (and sometimes my friends with me).

One night I took pictures of the sunset and we had a bonfire on the beach.  It is still not my favorite thing – cold, sand and wind.  But it was a blessed time with God.  We looked at the constellations and told stories.  I did not stay long but it was fun.

The last full day we did a group “5K Run, Walk, Crawl, Drag” on the beach.  Everyone participated in some way and everyone was so supportive of each other.  What a joy to be on the beach all together in God’s amazing creation.  That last night we sat around playing games and laughed until we almost could not stand it anymore.  We had a blast.

Honestly, this weekend did not sell me on time at the beach – especially in the winter.  But it once again gave me time with nature and with the Creator God who made it all possible.  It was a time of renewal and rest, a time of recreation and rejuvenation.  And all of us need that. 

So offer me time away with God and opportunities to be in the midst of nature, being with good friends, eating amazing food, having sights to see, and getting time for rest – and then tell me it is in the Winter at the Beach – and my response will now be, “Ok, sign me up!”

The Power of Prayer

I had a very interesting discussion at lunch today about prayer.  I was eating with a group of Interfaith Clergywomen and the subject came up in connection to a family health crisis that one of our group members recently experienced.  The subject of prayer was discussed from several different faith traditions and it was interesting how we all viewed prayer as essential but also from very different perspectives, in some ways.

I have been on the receiving end of prayer on numerous occasions in my life.  I have had people praying for my health, for my job situation, for my family, for my ministry, and for many other reasons and occasions.  I felt those prayers each and every time.  I felt them profoundly and personally.  There were times when I felt totally enveloped by those prayers.   The power of those prayers cannot be understated. 

And I have prayed for others.  I have prayed with families before surgery on a loved one, I have prayed at death beds of church members, I have prayed with several youths about a crisis going on in their lives, I have prayed at civic events and public memorials, and I have prayed at many family meals in gratitude for all of the blessings we have received in our lives.  I have prayed for so many people in so many different circumstances that it boggles the mind.  I have prayed for God’s presence in their lives, for them to feel God’s embrace, and for God’s will to be done.  But I try not to ask for specifics.  I have never prayed for a specific job, a specific outcome, or for a new pony, but I know others do and I respect their understanding of prayer.  It’s just not mine.

The questions come when one asks – what became of those prayers?   Did someone who prayed for me to find a job actually make that happen?  Did someone who prayed for my son during his surgery last year make it easier for his recovery to happen?  Did my prayer affect the outcome of someone’s medical tests?  Or did those prayers simply affect how we felt during those times?  Did they cause us to feel more connected to a community of faith and support, thereby feeling less isolated and alone?  Did those prayers cause the events to change as they were uttered? 

I once heard a friend’s young child pray to God for a baby brother.  Her mother asked her, “Do you really think God is going to send you a baby brother? That’s not actually how it works, honey.”  The child looked at her and said, “I know, but it can’t hurt to have God on my side.”

I agree.  I always want God on my side – and believe God is.  But I also believe nothing we say or do in prayer changes how God is with us.  God is present with me always -- just as God is always present with others.  I pray to feel closer to God, to feel more connected to my community, to release my cares into God’s hands, and to remind myself of how I need to be present for others.

I am not diminishing the power of prayer – I believe it is enormously powerful.  But I also do not think prayer is a magic bullet to make things change course simply by our words. I pray because the power of prayer is real.   

I pray – often.  I pray because I believe it is important.  I pray because I believe the power of God in our lives is phenomenal.  I pray ... because prayer is part of me.  I pray because I believe it makes a difference. 

So … I pray.

I Do Not Resolve ...

 This weekend is full of traditions.  We will ring in the New Year at home watching favorite movies and will eat black eyed peas on New Year's Day so we will have good luck.  We will call our family and wish them a great year.  We will stay off the roads and away from drunken revelers. 

And we will skip the New Year's Resolution thing.  I have given up on this tradition.  Too many folks make meaningless promises, break them too quickly and then feel guilty.  So I will skip the meaningless resolutions.  I will not resolve to stop something or start something new.

However, there are some things I will continue this year. 

I will continue to love God, follow Jesus, live my faith and share it with others.  I will continue to love my family beyond words.  I will continue to parent my child and hold him accountable for his mistakes, while also letting him know how much I am proud of him. 

I will continue to teach my students with all that I have in me.  I will continue to support the causes that are important to me - progressive politics, gun control, ending domestic violence, supporting women's causes, and others.

I will continue to spend time working to end economic injustice and hunger.  I will continue to work to end straw gun purchases in Philadelphia.  I will continue to be proud of my church and the advocacy we are involved in.

I will continue to love action movies and mystery novels.  I will continue to enjoy the TV shows I love to watch.  I will keep on blogging and studying social media and preaching.  I will continue to support my family and friends in their dreams.  I will continue to be a fan of the Dallas Cowboys and the New York Yankees (even though it causes me grief in Philly). 

I will continue to be obsessed with Dr. Who and Torchwood.  I will continue to be upset when stores put out Christmas stuff before Halloween.   I will continue to be silly with my son.  I will continue to tell jokes badly and to laugh as often as possible.  I will continue to be happy with who I am.  I will continue to pray for those in need and believe in the power of those prayers.

So I am not resolving to do anything new next year.  I will continue to be me and all that that implies.  God made me … God loves me … and God will continue to guide me.

May you continue being who you are and who God made you to be.   May God guide you into the new opportunities this coming year allows.  May you continue to love God and share that with others.  May you know peace and may your faith continue to give you strength.

Happy New Year.

Getting out of the Helicopter

I have heard of some pretty serious hovering parents – often called Helicopter Parents – in my life and I try not to be the same way.  I protect my kid as best I can but I have to let him lead his own life.  I cannot hover over him and/or force him to make the decisions I want him to make.  I understand that sometimes he will make good decisions.  And sometimes he won’t.  All I can do is teach him the best lessons I can and guide him as I am able/or as he needs me.  But that type of parenting seems to be at odds with some others I know.

I happened upon a TLC show recently called “Toddlers and Tiaras” that scared the living daylights out of me.  These parents – mainly Moms – are so enmeshed in their kids’ lives and successes that they have little identity outside of their children’s.  They dress them as adults, slap on absurd amounts of makeup, sprinkle them with glitter, and teach them to dance in sexy (often inappropriate – in my opinion) ways to win child beauty pageants.  The show made me very uncomfortable.  I watched half of one episode and was almost ill by the end.

One of the interesting things about the show is that they depict these parents in each episode without narration and without really making any judgment as it airs.  However, one glance at their website and you see sections entitled “10 Most Controversial Parents” and “Oh No They Didn’t.”  It is clear the show is intended to show the absurdity of these parents’ decisions but at the same time they are also putting on display the huge industry that is child beauty pageants and all of the companies, professionals and coaches that are behind the scenes.

While I understand the need to be nonjudgmental to get folks to be on their show – I had a tough time watching it at all.  As I mentioned already – I barely got through half of one episode.  I found that I could not watch it without almost yelling at the TV – “are you kidding me?” and “Mom, get a life!”  There are even moments on these episodes when the children show how much they are disinterested in the pageants and how angry they are with their hovering, pushy parents. 

Granted, I am making a judgment on this show after a limited viewing but it did not take me long to have my fill of these helicopter parents (I must admit, however, that I perused some clips on their website while preparing to write this blog entry).  I know that is judgmental – but I could not help it as I watched the show.  Putting a cone bra on a two year old is more than I can take.  Making a deal with a three year old to keep her fake nails on all day by promising her a pink gun is more than I can comprehend.

And as I was watching this show – I realized that there are certainly times when I helicopter over my own son.  But I have never had him take part in something he had no interest in, wear make-up/what I wanted him to wear to show off, or dance on stage to win cash and prizes – thank God.  And I hope beyond hope that I never find my own self-worth essentially caught up in him and I hope that I never push him into a position where he is uncomfortable (as many of the kids and Dads were on the show). 

The truth is -- there are times that I wonder what he is doing and I want to know the details of his decisions.  But I have to resist.  I trust him.  I raised him well and want him to be his own person.  If I want him to be himself he has to make his own decisions, make his own mistakes, and make his own way on his life journey. 

So even though there are times I will want to hover – I resign as a hovering parent.  I am stepping out of the helicopter.  

Being Inspired

I was asked recently what inspires me.  I had a hard time answering the question.  Not because I did not know what inspires me, but because there are so many ways to answer that question. 

I get inspired in my personal life by beautiful nature, blessed friendships, connections to family, the laughter of my child, walks in the woods, awesome sunsets, opening buds of flowers, changing colors in the fall and so many other things.  I also get inspired by music, art, pop culture (some, not all), movies, and stories of overcoming obstacles. 

And I get inspired by the turn of a fantastic double play by baseball players who are paid too much, but jump up and down like little boys when they make a great play.  I get inspired by theater and a lofty song sung from the heart by a tremendous talent who has committed to their craft for years and paid their dues.

In my professional life I get inspired by the work of other homileticians (preaching professors) who work to teach their students options to express the Gospel in ways that engage and lift the people in their pews.  I am inspired by my students who reach for new learnings - sometimes forward bursting with enthusiasm, sometimes backward to safe shores, and sometimes shakily with fear and trepidation but who reach anyway. 

I am inspired by the affirmation of others who like my work. I got some of that this past weekend in Austin at the Academy of Homiletics.  Folks responded to my work and asked me questions that will lead me into further exploration.  I sat with PhD students who shared what they are working on and it inspired me to keep at it.  I had breakfast with fellow scholars from Drew University who are in the Academy and heard ways they are doing fantastic things in their field with the education they received from that institution. I got inspired by being in the room with some of my heroes of the art of preaching and hearing their stories of teaching and preaching.

I am inspired in my spiritual life by great preaching (of course), rituals that move my soul, the singing of many traditional hymns and some contemporary stuff, meditation and prayer, reading the Bible, working on a sermon, being in cathedrals and back rooms of pubs doing worship, talking about my faith with other journeyers, and feeling the breath of God.  I am inspired by the social justice work done by so many churches and individuals on so many issues - but especially working for the poor and marginalized.

I am inspired by the questions my teenage son asks about life and death, the ways my church celebrates the Eucharist, the prayers of the people of God lifted in unison, and the lighting of Advent candles in preparation of the Coming of Christ - as a babe the first time and again in the Second Coming. 

These are just some I the ways I am inspired generally and how I have been inspired this past week.  I hope you have a hard time answering that question, too.  I hope it is hard to think of an easy answer because so many different things inspire you in many, many ways.

I thank God for inspiration and for the opportunity to use those inspirations in my life, my work, and my faith.

Being Part of the 10% ... Having An Attitude of Gratitude

A favorite image of forgiveness to preach about this time of year is the passage in Luke 17: 12-19 of Jesus healing the ten lepers of their disease.  In the text - as Jesus is passing by them - the ten leprous men cry out for him to heal them and he tells them to go show themselves to the priests. As they went they were healed. All ten are miraculously healed by Jesus but only one of them returns to Jesus to give thanks for that act of compassion. 

Much is made of only one returning.  Most talk about the lack of gratitude on the part of the nine who left and never returned.  Some will talk about the fact that the others may have been so overwhelmed with their ability to reconnect that they rushed to be with their friends and families or that they left to go profess thanksgiving in their own faith traditions, but the one who came back to give thanks gets the most mentions.  The nine are often chastised as being ungrateful, even though we have no clear idea why none of those nine returned.  The point of the use of this text is the gratefulness of the one.

So the logical question for this Thanksgiving Week is to ask how grateful we are. Do we have an attitude of gratitude? Are we part of the 10%?

I know this past week or so I have had some amazing experiences:

·         My son turned 13 and his team won their soccer league championship game

·         I became ill and had great health care options to get better

·         I was asked to preach at RevolutionNYC Church in Brooklyn and had a blast doing what I love

·         My father had foot surgery and came through with flying colors

·         I am off this week and get to enjoy some resting, writing, and being with family time.

These are all things that I am extremely thankful for, but there are so many more.  I am thankful for my home and the roof over my head.  I am thankful for the heat that keeps my family warm and the food in our cupboard that keeps us fed.  I am thankful for my education and experience that allows me to do what I love for a living.  I am thankful for my sisters who keep me sane and help me through tough times (even though they can sometimes also drive me insane).  I am thankful for my parents who are healthy and active into their late 70s and who have supported me so amazingly throughout my life. 

I am thankful for those people who have fought for my freedom in the armed forces and in civil rights and social justice movements throughout our history.  I am grateful for my faith and all of the people who led me to understand God in ways that make me strong as a disciple of Jesus Christ.  I am grateful for my church family that blesses me weekly with their worship and willingness to support each other.  I am grateful for my denomination, even though I disagree with it on several key issues.  I am grateful for new trends in creating and being church that gives me hope for faith communities of the future.  I am grateful for the school that my son goes to and for the education he is receiving.  I am grateful for friends and family who are special parts of my life journey.

I am grateful for the opportunities that living in America provides and for the responsibilities I have as a citizen to hold my country’s feet to the fire.  I am grateful for Occupy Wall Street and the ways they are calling for justice and economic balance. I am grateful for the election process that lets us get to know our candidates, even though they make me crazy with their limited plans, promises and partisanship. 

I want to be part of the 10% this week … but more than that I want to be part of the 10% all year long.  I want to live with an attitude of gratitude.  I want to turn around and walk back to the one who makes me whole and say “Thank you, Jesus.”

Yikes … There’s a Teenager in my House

Tomorrow my son, Shelby, will turn 13.  When we brought him home from a small orphanage in Yekaterinburg, Russia 12 years ago, we never could have dreamed of the young man he would and has become – especially since he cried almost the entire way on the airplane from Moscow to Zurich to Atlanta to Kansas City.  We weren’t sure if this was a bad omen or not.  But we were just grateful to be bringing this amazing baby home to America.

Then he was a 9 month old with sparkling blue-grey eyes and curly blonde hair.  He was loved by the caregivers in his orphanage and was tagged as “extraordinarily healthy” by the Embassy Doctor in Moscow.  His passport picture looks like a wise and seasoned person of more years than his 9 months could possibly have experienced.  He was a compassionate toddler who rubbed the TV when he saw someone crying and begged us to stop their pain.  He was an active little guy who climbed anything like a monkey and asked more “Why?” questions than anyone could possibly answer. 

Now he is a mature and compassionate advocate for ending gun violence and watches C-SPAN for enjoyment.  He is a super soccer player and an electronics genius.  He is a great student and a loyal friend.  I have seen him stand up to bullies on his bus route and call racists on their inappropriate jokes.  He is funny, creative, and often silly beyond words.  He can still ask more questions than anyone could possibly answer but now they are sometimes even harder to answer – but not always.

Being 13 is a big thing.  It means being a teenager and making more decisions for himself.  It means his hormones will continue to change and there will be ups and downs in our relationship as he ages – but I am so proud of who he is and who he is going to be.  It means his interests are changing and his relationships with others are more complex.  Having a teenager in the house will be tough at times – but being a Mother is such a blessing.  He is a good kid and that won’t change just because the magic number 13 passes tomorrow.

So tonight I give thanks for his birth mother who chose to give him a better live by giving him up.  I give thanks for the caregivers who cared for him in the orphanage.  I give thanks to the agency reps, interpreters and drivers who helped us through the adoption process.  I give thanks for the members of my family who supported the adoption.  I give thanks to his coaches, teachers, and pastors who helped make him the young man he is today.  I give thanks to the many people who have been part of this journey.

And I thank God for him and for the opportunity to be his mother.  What a blessing.

Time for the Church to Occupy!

Part of an interfaith service at Occupy San Francisco.

As I write this I am recovering from a viral inner ear infection called labrynthitis and sitting in my house with heat, electricity and cable.  When I got sick I called my primary care physician and got in the next day.  I received prescriptions from him and went to a local pharmacy and got them filled.  My insurance paid all but $8 of the bill. I have an amazing job I love that provides me with insurance and payments into my pension account.   My home is not luxurious but is quite adequate for my family.  I have money in my bank account and get to do things with my family that are fun and interesting.  My child goes to a safe and excellent school.  My extended family is relatively healthy and most have good jobs and stable families.  I am lucky. 

I know this intuitively but often get caught up in the issues of my days and weeks and forget.  I know this but sometimes I – probably like many of you – need a reminder.  A transformer blew outside my house yesterday morning and I was without electricity for all of 2 hours.  It was inconvenient but my house was warm and I had things to do to occupy my time.  I have friends in areas affected by the recent storms that are on day 5 without power.  I am lucky.  I know this.

As I write this Occupy Wall Street protesters are sitting in the cold and enduring the elements to protest an immoral, greedy, and unjust economic system that keeps the poor in poverty and protects the rich.  Members of the global community have been rebelling over the last few months in a number of ways.  The Arab Spring has removed dictators from several countries’ leadership and brought new levels of freedom to peoples of the world.  Women in countries where they have limited rights are crying out for education, driving privileges, and voting rights.  Seeking a better world and gratitude for these changes is everywhere – it seems.

Occupy movements are springing up all over the world.  Many are collecting donations of food and are feeding not only those in the movement but the homeless in their areas as well.  This kind of egalitarian and compassionate living is not just being protested for – it is being lived out by their actions.  They are doing what many of us would like to do – but we feel compelled to stay in our own cocoons of safety or are too scared to be part of it or we don’t know how to be part of it all.  Sometimes their purpose seems scattered and I wonder how their efforts may actually create change – but I am grateful they are there.  And I too am figuring out how I can be part of it.

Where is the church in all of this?  I think we ought to be right in the middle of these movements.  I know of clergy groups walking with Occupy across the country.  Ministers are offering pastoral care and Eucharist to those who wish.  Many churches have

Marilyn Sewell, in a recent article on Huffington Post, said, “The church's proper role is to stand on the side of the disenfranchised and to call out wrongdoing and injustice in our society. Jesus did not say," I have come that you might be comfortable." He said, "I have come that you might have life." OccupyWallStreet has given the church an opening, a decisive moment in history. The Holy Spirit is not on the side of safety and stability. When will the church find its prophetic voice?”

It’s time to occupy a sense of thankfulness for all that has and is changing.  It’s time to occupy and take advantage of our opportunity to speak out against injustice, greed and immortality.  It’s time for the church to speak prophetically.  We sit too safely in the cocoons of our worship spaces – we need to meet the people in our communities where they are, we need to stand for something, we need to cry out against violence and abuse, and we need to be the church reaching out to the world.  We need to occupy the places where marginalization is happening and to close those gaps.  This is the time and the church is able.

We are fortunate, many of us, so we should be grateful and honor where we are in life.  And that allows us to speak – we have to utilize that right and responsibility. 

It’s time – let’s occupy.