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.

Taking a Leap of Faith

My family just moved into a new house. It is a faculty house belonging to my seminary where I teach and I am delighted to get to live there. The move went well - for about a day. Then I got sick and ended up in the hospital having two surgical procedures in two days.

Luckily, we had family coming to help with the move and they did more than could possibly be expected of family members during a move. They helped us clean, unpack boxes, and hang pictures. They helped us shop for new items for the house, carried out trash by the barrel, and helped us get organized. I am so grateful they were all here to help us out while I was sick and recovering from my surgery.

Today we were listing moves we made as a family. Since my birth I have lived in 21 different homes. That is 21 different moves. Some were just across town. Some were across country. Some were when I was too young to help. Some were with my own son who barely remembers the move. Some were painful and some were joyous.

Moving is never easy. Packing up and moving means saying goodbye to one reality and hello to a new one. Saying it 21 times means saying a lot of goodbyes to realities.

When I was a kid there were moves that made me angry. As an adult several of my moves were to grand new adventures - to college, to my first job, to attend seminary, to serve my first church, to grad school to get my PhD, to my first teaching job, and to Philly to teach at Lutheran. These were amazing new adventures.

But each and every one of them required a leap of faith. The moves required a sense of trust in the possibilities ahead. That trust is sometimes hard to come by. But trust must be lived out in the midst of change.

My prayer for this move and for the ways your life is changing is that trust comes to you. It takes small leaps of faith - trusting that God is present in the midst of the change, trusting that things will work themselves out, and trusting that you are not alone in the journey.

I'm leaping here, people. Wanna jump with me?  

Me and My Stuff

I heard a comedy routine some years ago by George Carlin about STUFF. I still remember it:

“That's all I want, that's all you need in life, is a little place for your stuff, ya know? I can see it on your table, everybody's got a little place for their stuff. This is my stuff, that's your stuff, that'll be his stuff over there. That's all you need in life, a little place for your stuff. That's all your house is: a place to keep your stuff. If you didn't have so much stuff, you wouldn't need a house. You could just walk around all the time.”

The routine continues to talk about getting so much stuff you need a bigger house for your stuff, you go on vacation and need to take just a bit of your stuff, and after trips you bring home more stuff, etc.  It is raw and rough in spots but I love the bit, because it is so dang true. The acquisition of “stuff” is part of the American reality for most.

We are moving this month and going through all of our stuff – decisions about keeping stuff, giving away stuff and moving stuff is a big part of our lives right now.  We have bags of stuff to give to Goodwill or some other charitable organization. We have bags of stuff that is going out in the trash.  And other stuff is getting packed up to load on a truck and take all the way to our new house – a mere 15 blocks away. But we have to pack up as if we are moving cross country almost.

And the stuff is amazing. Going through your stuff is a kind of archeological dig of sorts. We have talked about items in my son’s room that he wanted to hear the story about. We have talked about priorities in regards to what stuff we have and how we use it – or don’t use it. We have talked about how to decorate the new place with our stuff. And we have talked about the need to acquire less stuff in our lives.

We discovered that we have stuff we have not used in the two years since we moved here – so it is getting tossed or given away unless it is a keepsake. We have stuff that is important so we cannot pack it up until closer to the truck coming to load. We have stuff that has to go with us and stuff that we’re still debating about keeping.

Stuff can weigh us down. Stuff can make us possessive and oppressed. Stuff can separate us from ourselves, from others, and from our God. Stuff is not what God wants for us – God wants faithful living, nurturing relationships, spiritual formation, living missionally, and building family, among others.

Truth is … me and my stuff need a reality check.  What is important in my life is not going to fit in the back of the moving truck. I need to remember that fact.

(And I'm not even gonna get into the "unpacking" of my stuff ... that's for another blog)

8 Ways to Bring Back Family Worship

A blog article I wanted to share ... by Darby Jones from UMCom

So many families are on the go these days. Sitting down for a family dinner is so passé.  At least, that’s what many teenagers think. And forget any kind of family worship at home. Yet, spending time together intentionally discussing and experiencing God’s work in our lives should be one of our most important goals as a family. That’s why it is important as church leaders to equip parents with the tools to bring back family worship.

Include these family worship tips in your sermon and add them to your website, blog and newsletter:

1. You don't have to know everything to lead. Parents don’t have to be Bible scholars or know all the answers to start a family worship time. You just need the willingness to lead your family and follow God's guidance.

2. Create a worship space in the house. This place should show the connection between Christ and the family. Praying and bonding together in this space will make it sacred.

3. Set a time for spiritual bonding. The time and length of family worship depend on the age and attention span of family members. If someone isn’t available, have a backup plan. Set a virtual prayer time (for example, at 6 p.m., remember to say a quick prayer with and for the family, no matter where you are). Be consistent about bonding at the same time. and it will soon become a habit.

4. Challenge your family to a night without television. Even better, make it a “No Screen Night,” which excludes video games, computers and phones as well. This time can occur as often as a family determines (perhaps monthly or weekly). Blocking all distraction frees time for family worship, letter writing, board and active games, sports or general conversation and discussion. Mix up the activities, especially for younger children with short attention spans.

It won’t be long before family members look forward to the time and realize the most important things in life are free. However, small rewards can be fun and even can be a part of stewardship lessons. Children will love the extra attention from their parents. Don’t be surprised if the stories of memories made from this time together get a little bigger each time they are told!

5. Work together on a community volunteer project. This is a chance to focus on others (and on what Jesus calls us to do) while spending time together. It's also a great teaching opportunity that will enrich the community and lives of others.

Parents can start by asking their pastor about community ministries that can use the family’s help. Contact your conference Volunteers in Mission coordinator to find out about good service opportunities for families. Another great resource is VolunteerMatch, an organization that strengthens communities by making it easier for good people and good causes to connect. You can find volunteer opportunities in your community and narrow search results by keywords to find opportunities that interest your family.

6. Prepare. It doesn’t have to take a long time. Read a favorite Bible verse and think about the theme that you’d like to share. Cokesbury offers several family devotionals to help with this process. Develop a list of simple faith questions (e.g. Where have you seen God today? How do you think we can apply Sunday's sermon?) While watching a television show, plan to discuss, during a commercial, how one of the characters could have acted like Jesus.

7. Create a family gratitude journal to promote interaction.Create a family gratitude journal using a hole punch and some ribbon. Keep the book in the family worship space. Each person is responsible for documenting at least one thing for which he or she is most grateful every day ... more than one is highly encouraged. Little ones can draw something special, cut out a picture or glue on something from nature that they found. Ideally, everyone will have something positive to share.

8. Provide examples on how to pray aloud. Discuss times and situations when it is appropriate to pray, such as before bed, before meals, upon waking, upon receiving good news, when worried or afraid, when you hear an emergency siren, when you hear bad news or when facing a problem  with a friend or sibling.

Prayer times are also good times to look up Bible verses. Show your family how to use a Bible concordance so they know how to look up verses that relate to their problems.

For additional resources and the original post - see http://www.umcom.org/site/apps/nlnet/content3.aspx?c=mrLZJ9PFKmG&b=6084879&ct=11712685&notoc=1

Far Away Me: Caring for Parents at a Distance

I am a Tweener – I was born in 1962 so I am not a true Baby Boomer (according to some lists) and I am on the edge of the Baby Buster (Generation X) years.  I have some lifestyle similarities with both groups but definitely claim the Gen X (more Buster than Boomerang) label more than the Boomers.

However, one thing I have in common with the Boomer generation is the fact that as Americans age, this generation is spending almost as many years caring for parents as they are raising children.  This is not a new phenomenon in our country and raises many issues for both parents and their adult children - this group is often called The Sandwich Generation.

More and more Boomers and Busters - and those in between, like me – are caring for aging parents.  And many of us are doing that from a distance.  Estimates say that as many as 7 million Americans are caring for parents from a distance.  That is a lot of caregiving going on by proxy or by phone/internet/Skype/friends/etc. or by occasional visits.  This does not mean our parents are incapable of caring for themselves – it is quite the contrary in my case.  My parents are very young 75+ year olds.  And they are pretty healthy.

But as they age, there are more and more health issues that they are facing now and will be facing in the future.  Several surgeries and illnesses over the past few years for both of them have been tough on all of us.  And my sisters and myself all live at a minimum of 5+ hours and at a maximum of almost 3,000 miles away.  What this means is that they are going through some health situations without their children physically present.  They handle it well.  However, their children struggle with it at times.

I am constantly amazed at how painful it is to not be in the room with them while they are waiting for a surgery to end or for the results of tests to be delivered.  The last few months my dad has been having health issues and talking to them by phone has been so helpful.  But there have also been times when I just break down and cry because I am not there holding his hand or hugging my mom.  My sisters feel the same way, but we cannot get there for every situation.  And that is the rub.  Because in all likelihood it will get worse – not better.

Because I know this state of care will progress.  The National Institute on Aging says “Caregiving, no matter where the caregiver lives, is often long-lasting and ever-expanding. For the long-distance caregiver, what may start out as an occasional social phone call to share family news can eventually turn into regular phone calls about managing household bills, getting medical information, and arranging for grocery deliveries. What begins as a monthly trip to check on Mom or Dad may become a larger project to move him or her to a new home or nursing facility closer to where you live.”[1]   I know I am a ways off from this, but I want to be ready.  I want my sisters to be ready.  And I want my parents to have all of the independence they need for as long as possible and only to help as needed. 

But I have a lot of friends, colleagues, family, and acquaintances who are dealing with long-distance caregiving right now.  I can name ten persons dealing with this situation just sitting here as I type.  And some of them are just exhausted - physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Some advice for them from the National Institute on Aging:

“Although you may not feel as physically exhausted and drained as the primary, hands-on caregiver, you may still be worried and anxious. And you might feel guilty about almost everything—about not being closer, not doing enough, not having enough time with your parent, and perhaps even feeling jealous of those who do. Many long-distance caregivers also find that worry about being able to afford to take time off from work, being away from family, or the cost of travel increases these frustrations. Remember that you are doing the best you can given the circumstances and that you can only do what you can do. It may help to know that these are feelings shared by many other long-distance caregivers—you are not alone in this.”[2]

My parents are amazing.  I love them and want to be there for them as they need me.  And I want to support my sisters, friends, and other family members as they care for their own parents.  Caring for others from a distance is an act of faith – faith in your relationships, faith in your family, faith in your connections, faith in your God to see you all through the journey.

Caring from afar is an amazing gift as well – because it means I have my parents to keep caring for.

---

[1] http://www.nia.nih.gov/sites/default/files/SoFarAway.pdf

[2] Ibid, 38.

Saying Goodbye to Granny P

I am traveling with my family this week to the funeral of my son's great grandmother, Granny P.  She was 93 when she passed away and had been in an assisted living facility for some years due to Alzheimer's Disease.  The last few times we visited she did not really respond to us, but my son was convinced she smiled at him.

I believe him.  Because that is what she always did with him.  She would watch him when he was little and say over and over, "perpetual motion, he's perpetual motion." And she would smile.  She was part of his life and he adored going to visit Baba, one of his grandmothers, and her mom, Granny P, his great grandmother. 

While there - anytime we visited - she would ask him about his puppy, go for walks with him, and they would play on the floor with red puppy and a toy train for hours.

On one visit when he was a toddler, she became convinced that his little red puppy (a stuffed animal he took everywhere with him) was in fact hers.  The entire time we were there she would secret it away and we would have to go retrieve it for him.  She was not aware of what she was doing but he knew she was taking something that was his.  He was confused, but trusted us to rescue it for him. 

When we got ready to leave one time, she once again had gotten red puppy away from him.  We distracted her the best we could and searched her room until we rescued red puppy from behind some blankets in her closet.  She had hidden it extremely deeply in the closet.  But we were not about to leave without it.  We still tell the story and he knows it well.

This weekend at the memorial service, grandkids and great grandkids were asked to bring pictures or other items to remember Granny P.  My son brought red puppy (yes, we still have it even though he is now 13 years old).  He will tell the story of her thinking it was hers and taking it several times.  Some will laugh and some will wonder what the story means.  For him it is a memory of being with her.  It is a memory of her interaction with him - despite her disease.  He does not know her from her prime.  He remembers a funny lady in a hat who took his red puppy and called him "perpetual motion."

But he still remembers her.  He wanted to be here to say goodbye.  And he wanted to share his wonderful memory of her.

That is what memorial services and funerals are all about.  They are about remembering the roles our loved ones play in our lives - whether briefly or over an extended period of time.  It is a chance to compare memories with others and to say thank you for the roles our beloved family members played on our journey.  It is a time to laugh as much as cry.  It is a time to drink deeply from the family well.  It is a time to remember.

Yes, my son still has red puppy.  He keeps it in his keepsake box.  He keeps it because he got it from his aunt and uncle for his first birthday and it reminds him of Clifford, the Big Red Dog, who his Baba introduced him to.  And he keeps it because Granny P took it from him and his parents rescued it for him.

Sharing that memory makes him happy.  Remembering Granny P makes him smile.  Remembering those who have walked this life journey with us is important.  This weekend is all about that. 

Drink deeply from that well, my friends.  

Jumping On the Downton Abbey Bandwagon

For several months I watched friends and family posting on Facebook and on Twitter about the PBS show Downton Abbey.  I saw humorous quotes and intriguing insights from some good people about the show but was not watching it at the time.  I am not usually a period-piece TV viewer.  But I was getting pulled in by the gushing these folks were doing over the show.  So I decided I would try it – and got on the VERY LONG wait list on Netflix so that we could view it at our own pace in our living room.  It took a while but we got it and decided to watch it that very night.

To be honest, I was hooked the first five minutes of the show.  I was intrigued by the upstairs/downstairs reality of the show.  For the few not watching it yet, it is the story of the Crawley family and their lives in their majestic home, Downton Abbey.  The Earl, Robert Crawley, his wife, their three daughters, and the Dowager Countess, the Earl’s mother, have ups and downs aplenty, but for the most part it is a story of their relationships one with the other.  It is a gorgeous home and is a story of great wealth and privilege during a drastically changing time in history. 

But it is also a story about the household staff that keeps Downton Abbey humming.  From the butler, Carson, down to the first and second footmen and various house maids, we get to see the lives of the extraordinary people who kept the aristocracy of Great Britain alive and well in the early 1900s.  And we get to see that they had extraordinary lives themselves.

The thing that is interesting about the show is the interactions of all of these people in the midst of a fast changing world – women’s rights, World War I, changing roles for the aristocracy, gender expectations, modern technologies (electricity, cars and the telephone), and shifting politics.  Change is hard for everyone.  Carson is not sure what to do with the telephone, Sybil gets into trouble trying to be a modern woman, war disrupts all of their lives, and the household staff is full of clashing personalities of both the good and evil varieties.

I resisted this show because I was not interested in the rich v. poor story I assumed it would be.  I resisted because I did not want to watch something just because others were fans.  I resisted because ... well just because.

But I am on the Downton Abbey bandwagon now.  We have just finished with the first season.  The Frist World War has just been declared.  And I am delighted with my decision to watch Downton Abbey.

I am enjoying learning about a period of time that I studied historically but not very socially focused.  I have learned that taller footmen earned more than their shorter counterparts. I have learned that while we are debating the rights of women to be their own persons today, this is indeed a longtime issue with much more progress needed. 

I am a fan of Downton Abbey.  But more than anything else I am a fan about learning about the lives of others.  I am a fan about growing in my understanding of the world around me – even the world as seen through the upstairs/downstairs lives of the Crawley family in early 1900s Great Britain.

When Will It End?

Today I awoke like everyone else to hear about another school shooting.  This one was in Chardon, Ohio where one student died and four others were shot by a classmate who opened fire in the school cafeteria.  It has been an all too common thread in our society – mass shootings at school, in church, at home, and in the workplace.  Mass shootings taking place to supposedly right some wrong – perceived or real – are happening far too often.

On Tuesday, April 20, 1999, at Columbine High School in Columbine, Colorado, 12 students and one teacher were killed by two of their classmates.  Another 21 students were injured.  Watching the chaos was disturbing and haunting.  Today brought back memories of that day in 1999.

It was a horror to watch then and many talked about ways to combat the violent responses by teens who are outcasts, from broken homes, depressed, bullied, into violent gaming, etc.  Yet here we stand again in the midst of another mass shooting.  We don’t yet know all the details but early reports suggest this young man was angry, bullied, and an outcast.  Whatever his reasons for shooting his fellow classmates – it was not the answer.

The obvious questions will continue to be asked – where did he get the gun?  Was it a legal purchase?  Was it an unsecured gun?  What had happened in his life to bring him to this point?  Where was his family?  What role could teachers and counselors in the school have played in preventing this horror?  What could other students have done to reach out to this young man?  What made him target those particular students?

But there are no easy or fast answers.  

Right now I pray for the family of the student killed, for those who were injured and their families, for the alleged shooter and his family, for those students who escaped injury, for the community of Chardon, for the teachers and staff of the school, for the parents who worried about their children, and for God presence in all of this.

I wish I could snap my fingers and end bullying.  I wish there was not a way these troubled and bullied people could get their hands on firearms.  I wish these situations would become a tragic memory of the past never to occur again.  I wish bullying would never end forever.  I wish violence was not seen as an answer to slights and pain.  I wish all gun violence would end.  I wish for peace in the midst of this chaos and pain. 

Until then – we pray for all of those involved and for our hurting world.  We pray for a faith that sets us free from violence and pain.  We pray.  Lord, in your mercy.

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.

Advent and Christmas Are Not for Sissies!

Christmas is an amazing time of year.  It is filled with shopping trips and lists of things to do.  It is filled with writing cards and spending time on line at the local post office.  It is filled with family gatherings and craziness with relatives you seldom get to spend time with.  It is filled with rich food and too many snacks sitting around to munch on.  It is filled with long lines and gift returns.  It is filled with company parties and too many adult beverages.  It is filled with hectic schedules and stressful travel arrangements.  It is filled with rushing about and feeling behind too much of the time.   It is filled with much, too much that can drain us spiritually and emotionally from the true meaning of the season.

But the Christmas season is not yet here – it’s close but it has yet to arrive.  We are still in Advent – the liturgical season of preparation for the coming of the Christ child - despite how we might be living in the present.  Advent is a time of expectant waiting and anticipation for the Second Coming of the Christ as well.  It is about being ready.  It is about preparing ourselves to receive this amazing gift.  It is about celebrating the first coming while preparing for the second.  It is the beginning of the liturgical year, but too often we rush through it without embracing the opportunities it affords.  I have seen far too many examples of this in the past month.  And I have fallen victim to it a few times as well.

We want to rush through Advent to get to Christmas as quickly as we can.  We rush into singing Christmas hymns because we cannot wait.  We rush into the stores at midnight on Black Friday because Christmas shopping cannot come too quickly.  We rush into the joy of Christmas without wanting to experience the despair often associated with anticipation and waiting.

Rushing past the waiting is easy.  Waiting for the coming of Christ is hard.  It’s not for sissies.  It means embracing the reality of being on a journey that brings us closer to God and closer to the coming of our Savior.  But it means waiting in the brokenness.  It means taking the journey without shortcuts. 

We wait for a Savior that comes to heal our broken world, who comes to free the captive and give sight to the blind, who comes to bring justice to those who are afflicted and oppressed, who comes to make the world what God intends, who comes to bind our wounds, who comes to make things right.  But we have to wait and prepare for that coming.

Waiting is still where we sit – for a few days more.  If you, like me, have rushed too much into the Christmas Season too quickly – take these last few days and nights to truly prepare.  Take these last few days to wait expectantly.  Take these last few days to hear once again – or for the very first time - the lyrics of the great hymn, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Wisdom from on high,
Who orderest all things mightily;
To us the path of knowledge show,
And teach us in her ways to go.

Refrain

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan’s tyranny;
From depths of hell Thy people save,
And give them victory over the grave.

Refrain

O come, Thou Day-spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

Refrain

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.

Refrain

O come, O come, great Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes on Sinai’s height
In ancient times once gave the law
In cloud and majesty and awe.

Refrain

O come, Thou Root of Jesse’s tree,
An ensign of Thy people be;
Before Thee rulers silent fall;
All peoples on Thy mercy call.

Refrain

O come, Desire of nations, bind
In one the hearts of all mankind;
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,
And be Thyself our King of Peace.

Refrain

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 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.

Being Too Full for Words

I have not posted in a bit and there is a legitimate reason … I promise.  I could not find words to express the past 10+ days of my life.  Sometimes we are so full from the buffet of blessings and smorgasbord of experiences that we cannot find words to speak.  That is what I experienced the past few weeks.  It was something I will not soon forget.  My cup runneth over ...

My seminary faculty had a retreat away from campus weekend before last that was a blessed time of reflection, camaraderie, and visioning.  We discussed some important topics for the future, found some time to toss around a Frisbee and had a blast together as friends and colleagues.  On Wednesday a group in Philadelphia I am working with, Neighborhood Partners to End Gun Violence, held a rally naming the 186 persons killed by gun violence in our city since Jan. 1, 2011 at City Hall with t-shirts representing all of them.  This was a moving and emotional day as I was asked to read 50 of the 186 names.  Just thinking about the lives cut short, the relationships not solidified and the futures not realized was stunningly poignant.  On Friday I taught a workshop on Preaching, Hunger and Justice to persons preaching on the issue on World Food Day in October.  It was so amazing to be in the same room with these folks who are so committed to alleviating hunger and poverty.  On Saturday I watched my pre-teen son play soccer with several family members – one of whom had never seen him play.  It was delightful to listen to the kids and parents scream with passion and energy.  We even had a DirectTV blimp flying overhead (although I think they were there for another reason).  On Sunday evening I was at the organizing convention of P.O.W.E.R – Philadelphians Organized to Witness, Empower and Rebuild with almost 3,000 other people working with 40+ churches and communities of faith to improve job availability, education, health care, housing, and public safety in the city of Philadelphia.  It was an awesome sight to see this interfaith gathering of folks committed to justice making for the people of Philly.  The week also included my regular teaching schedule, faculty gatherings on several topics, church committee work, and student conversations.   My cup runneth over ...

It was a full week – in the amount of time that was involved for these projects and activities AND in the emotional investment so many put into these events.  So many times last week I said the words, “Lord, help me be open to all you are blessing me with this week.  Help me be your vessel.”  There were days I came home bone tired and very weary.  But at the end of every one of those days – I knew how blessed I was to participate in the events and activities I had been part of.   My cup runneth over ...

The week was full – in so many ways.  And I thank God for allowing me to be part of all of it.  Even when I had no words to express my emotions – the fullness of my life is a blessing. My cup runneth over! I am so grateful that I have work, a family, a life, and a faith community that fills me with blessings all the time.   My cup runneth over ... What a joy!  I’ll take full anyday!