What a Difference a Year Makes...?

I've known that this year anniversary of mine was coming up for some time.

Today marks my one year anniversary of ordination.  It is a big deal in 'my world' - although in the scheme of the world, not such a big deal.  However, we all do seem to mark time by remembering anniversaries.  

Last year at this time I:

was snowed in

postponed my ordination due to snow

cancelled Advent 4 due to snow

and....was fairly certain that 'this time next year' things would be very different.  I was certain getting a year under my belt, so to speak, would make all the difference in the world.

So, here I sit, one year later and it seems like the only thing that is predictable in my world is the snow.  The irony of 'potential significant snowfall' in the next few days is not lost on me.

I've been waiting for the "Oh, I've done this before" feeling to hit.  I would love to feel like I know what I am doing....but every day I wake up and know that I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

But - don't be scared (especially if you attend the church I serve).  I really don't have a clue...but God does.  And, if I have learned one thing over this past year it would be, when serving God becomes predictable, then we're probably serving ourselves.

I crave organization; ministry is messy.  I crave predictability; God's unpredictable.  I crave rest; God is relentless.  So, here's where I am at on my one year anniversary:

Right where I started.
Confused and unsure.

But faithful.  To be sure, I fail sometimes, but I am trying.  Of course...it's going to snow; it's only fitting, because last year at this time I said, "I'll probably never have to deal with this again...".

So, what difference does a year make?  I am not sure.
But, this much is clear - I will be spending the rest of my life making the differences God calls me to (and calls you to too), whether I happen to be able to point to them or not.

Happy anniversary to me.

What do you stay awake for?

The other day I was having coffee at an area Caribou Coffee shop.  I looked down at the sleeve on the cup and read: Life is short.  Stay awake for it.

Caribou Coffee's been stealing from the Gospel of Matthew.  Really - they have.  Check it out:  Matthew 24: 42 - Keep awake, therefore, for you do not know on what day your LORD is coming.  (For Advent 1 reading click here).  It's probably an occupational hazard that I read a coffee cup and think of Jesus, but still....

Truth be told, they haven't been stealing, but they've tapped into something that we all know - the fact that many of us feel like there isn't a whole heck of a lot to stay awake for.  During this Advent season we are urged to stay awake, look for life!

I probably over analyze things, although I like to think it's looking for a deeper meaning, but as I looked at that coffee sleeve, urging me to stay awake for life, I thought:
'Isn't that an interesting dichotomy [yes, I actually thought that word - dichotomy.  I like it...much of life is such dichotomy]...if there's so much to stay awake for, why do I even need this hyped-up caffeinated beverage?

As many of you know, I drink more Diet Mountain Dew than possibly any other person on the planet.  I like my caffeine.  So, the more I've been thinking about this coffee sleeve, the more I've wondered, do we need the caffeine to stay awake for life?

Because if we do...then we are in trouble.  Trouble may not  be the right word, but....you know, life itself is enough to stay awake for.  There are amazing things happening and coming, but we don't see them sometimes.  At least I know I miss amazing things on a daily basis.  Maybe we are too numbed out on caffeine, I don't know.

The reason I liked the question, "What do you stay awake for?" so much is because it points to what Matthew doesn't say.  If I could rewrite Matthew, which would probably get me in loads of trouble with Bible translators, I would add that piece, "Therefore, keep awake, because there's much to blow your mind going on out in the world.  You certainly don't want to miss it."  I'd probably need to add some more therefore's and art thou's and thy's.  

Matthew reminds us to stay awake.  And Matthew says that the LORD is coming, so we should stay awake for that, but he doesn't ask us: What's so compelling about your life that you would want to stay awake through all hours of the night without the added assistance of caffeine?

So...what do you stay awake for?
Matthew would say, stay awake for Jesus.
So - would I, but I would add this one caveat... how?
If it's not the caffeine that's getting me through life, then what is?

I stay awake for:
crisp morning runs which clear my head
kisses from boys who don't care they've been throwing up for three days
hand holding
texts from friends which make me laugh out loud
small gifts which make a big difference
pre-school kids who hug me tight
smiles from strangers who receive an invitation
Christmas lists

There are more to be sure...but those are the things I've stayed awake for today (and I've only be awake for 7 hours).  I stay awake for those things, because I see God in them.  I see the person of Jesus in smiles, in tears, in touches...  Honestly, there is something saving in those for me - something Jesus-like.  Something realer than real.

I'm not inspired by the perfect cup of coffee, but I am inspired by the perfect imperfectness of Jesus.

And I don't need caffeine to keep me awake for that.  I know there are people who read this blog who aren't sure if they believe in God... and I guess I stay awake a lot because of that...because I once heard someone say, "If you've ever wondered about Jesus, about life after death, I'm here to tell you there's nothing truer in the universe.  That's my job."

I stay awake because I know that to be true...
What do you stay awake for?
Think about it.
And then....really stay awake for it, because it will be there that you will meet Jesus.

Tell me...

Wednesday evening I had the opportunity to worship at a church down the street from the one I serve.  I was going with a few people from our Wednesday evening Bible Study to a Thanksgiving Eve service.

I sat.
And...I didn't worry about a thing.
It was nice.

Sunday mornings are not like this for me.
I hardly sit.
I try not to worry, but I do.
It is still nice.

Just different.

So, I sat.  And I prayed.  And I sang and sorta danced in my pew - and I'm a terrible dancer.
And I didn't care.

And soon the pastor got up to preach and all I wanted was for him to tell me about God.

Just tell me again, the same thing I preach every week...

Tell me about God.  I'll never tire of that - of someone saying:
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

And I'll never tire of someone saying:
Let us pray....

And I'll never tire of someone saying:
God is like...
or God loves you...
or God gave his only Son...
or God forgives you...

And as I sat there, longing to hear about God, I knew...the task of the preacher is not so much to be creative, but to just talk about God like you really care.  Because for some reason, we just can't get enough.

This Day

I have a different prayer practice with each of my three sons.  My youngest son and I say a prayer in this manner:
Me: Dear
Cooper: God,
Me: We
Cooper: give you this day
Me: All
Cooper: of our work
Me: And
Cooper: all of our play.
Me: All
Cooper: that we do
Me: And
Cooper: all that we say.
Both: Amen.

We've been saying this same prayer together since he was about two (yes...probably time for a new one).  We began alternating so he could learn the words....I gave him the prompts.

Last night as we said this prayer for possibly the 1800th time, Cooper says to me,
"Mom, how can we give God the day?  God gives them to us.  That makes no sense."

Wow.  I was shocked he'd even heard the words...let alone hearing them in a new way.  Now it's true that theologically we give our days back to God.  How we live and act and play (which is what I explained to him)...

But the beauty of his statement was that what he saw first was that his day(s) is given to him by God - first and foremost.

That each and every day is a gift.  Sometimes that's harder to see.  Since I've worried lately about his days - how he's feeling about our recent move and all, it's nice to know that he still sees them as pure gift.

Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Yeah

Recently I preached a sermon during which I touched on the project called "It Gets Better" .  This project is targeted at bullying in schools, specifically bullying of those who are gay or perceived to be gay.  The reason for this project...in the past few weeks there have been at least 7 reported suicides by youth who are between the ages of 12 and 16, who were bullied based on their sexuality.  

So, the "It Gets Better" project invites adults to minister to youth - to tell them that they are not alone, that this is not the end of the world, that there are people out there who will wrestle with them.  That there are blessings that come out of struggles - that things will indeed 'get better'.

As a mom of three boys ages 8-13, I am sensitive to 'sex talk' and 'suicide talk' and 'not wanting to scare them talk,' but I am also keenly aware of the fact that they live and breathe and play in the very same world that these youth did.

So, as we climbed into the van that day, after I had preached that sermon, I said, "So...does anyone have any questions about my sermon today."

silence.

Then...

"It was weird."
"Yeah.  Weird."
"I don't believe it.  That a kid would kill himself."
"I do."

Me again, "I thought I needed to say something, guys.  It's important that the church talk about things that really happen and where God is in those cruddy times."

"Yeah."
"Yeah.  I agree."
"Yeah, you think those kids knew that God was with them?"
"Yeah."

Me again, "Yeah.  I think they did.  Jesus knows a lot about feeling alone and the end of the world."

"Yeah."

Sigh.

Theological Musings of an 11 Year Old

Jackson: "You know why I think God lets people do what they want?"

Me: "You mean, like 'free will'?"

Jackson: "Yeah.  Well, you know how God's eventually going to make earth part of heaven?  Well...God wants us to help make earth into heaven, so we have to learn how to do that.  And....the only way we learn is by doing.  At least that's what my soccer coach says."

Me: "So, we learn through our mistakes and successes?"

Jackson: "Yep.  But if it takes us too long, then God will just fix it or send some more angels or something.  Maybe a bunch of pastor angels."

Me: "I don't know if people turn into angels.  It says that God made humans 'just a little lower than angels'."

Jackson: "I guess, but seriously Mom, if God can make people out of dust, then I think God could make angels out of people."

Me (giggling):  "You're right, buddy.  Time for bed now..."

Jackson: "Okay.  Don't forget prayers...."

On frogs and such

This blog has always been called the "Tiny Dart Frog," based on the beauty and strength and smallness of the poison dart frog.

When I was in college I got a poison dart frog tattoo.  I got it to remind myself that I may be tiny, but I am strong and I am okay and I am made by God.  Okay, the "made by God piece" wasn't quite formed that solidly when I was in college, but it's still true.  

But, when I got it, the tattoo was about me.  About me claiming myself.

When my youngest son was around two he began kissing my frog tattoo.  For some reason he thought tattoos are for kissing.  Once, when we were at the bus-stop another mom's tattoo was peeking out the bottom of her short's leg and he walked over and kissed her tattoo...because that's what he thought you do.  I had a bit of explaining to do.

My tattoo had become about him.  It was about him claiming me; carrying a piece of us around as he experienced the world.

When I started blogging my random thoughts, however insignificant they are, it was about sharing something more.  Something that wasn't only about me....but about God, about life.  It was about connecting all the 'me's' of the world in cyberspace. 

I've been given a lot of frogs over the past 15 years.  They sit on my desk, hang on my wall, rest on my bed, ink my body, and sometimes find their way onto the lobes of my ears.  I can tell you who gave me almost every one or where it came from.  My tattoo, which started out about me finding me, became me finding others and others finding me.  I like that.

Recently we moved and my youngest son was scared getting on the bus.  Scared is not an adequate word - terrified maybe, distraught possibly, insecure probably.  So, I grabbed the closest thing to me - my work bag.  My work bag is covered with pins and patches.  Quickly I unpinned a little frog pin and fastened it on his pocket.  

I pin that frog pin to him everyday right now.  I wish I didn't have to.  I wish he didn't need that visible reminder, but he does, at least for now.  I know what that's like - to need a reminder.  Heck, a pin is a whole lot less permanent than a tattoo.

It's little bit of me attached to him.  And in some ways, it's a little bit of you too, because all of us have our insecurities, worries, and fears.  Pinned to him right now is the whole "you may be tiny but you can do this" piece.  A little courage in his pocket.  A little you are loved and beautiful and made by God tacked on him.

Frogs and whispers.  Birds and songs.  Me and you.  These are the things that get us through and make us who we are.  May you learn who that person is and may you help someone find who they are.