Splat
September 5, 2015
I know that I have been delinquent. I know that I haven’t even opened up this blog much at all the last few months. The last few months have been delightfully full and hectically frantic. There are many things to report- some wonderful, some not so much- but the main story of my summer months was ministry and my son. I got to preach nearly every single Sunday the last 4 months. We joked that that is more than most called preachers preach! I loved every single minute of it. I’ve regularly preached since shortly after my son was born and I stepped out of ministry, but to have such a solid block of doing something I love to do was fulfilling indeed. It’s hard not to fall in love with these groups of people who are simply trying to do life and follow Jesus together. And so I don’t even try to stop myself anymore; I plunge face first into love for them. But the hard comes when it’s time to part, when the ending comes, and I am torn away again, leaving a piece of my soul’s skin there, wondering if ever there will be a day when I do not have to leave soul-skin but can stay for longer.
There is much to write about with my son’s continued and prolonged journey. I will try to do that sometime soon when the words emerge in a way that makes a little more sense. I realize that that is probably why you tuned in to begin with, and if I have any readers left after my hiatus, I promise I will return with words on the adventurous and treacherous journey we are continuing to walk beside his small life. So, tune back and stay tuned.
But today, I’ve had an experience that seems to take precedence in my heart.
I came in second again. Read the rest of this entry »
A Letter to Herm
June 11, 2015
Dear Herm,
On a Thursday morning in the Fall a few years ago, I walked into a local church, sweaty palmed and fighting the inward pull to shut down and shut off and not meet the faces of these strangers I was there to see. I entered the yellow painted room with the round table set and jackets strewn about and the candle- lighted- in the middle of the space indicating the presence of God. And I met you.
Rugged and rough and laughing, with a face that I knew in an instant had been marked by equal amounts of grace and pain. I met you and in the moment, I met the most honest of persons I have ever known. Such honesty is hard to come by, and it is a gift.
You did not know- and maybe you still do not know- that the space I was in on that day was an unkind space. I had been riddled by my own losses, tossed by the violations of those once named friends, and so unable to trust that there would be goodness, especially in someone deemed an authority over others. I was unsure at that time about anything and anyone, yet quite certain that this place too would disappoint, leave me wrung out and lonely and trying to piece back together the soul that had been ripped up several times too many. But I entered, and you made space. You led your pastors to make space. To clear a spot for a stranger in all my awkwardness, and to invite me in. Read the rest of this entry »
In the Midst Of
May 6, 2015
I wrote this before we left the Boston area, but didn’t have a chance to publish it. So I’m publishing it late.
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There is such goodness in New England. The kind of goodness that wants to swallow you alive and you would let it… gladly. The kind of goodness that speaks peace to the soul in such a manner that you are quieted to all other sounds except the breathing of goodness surrounding you. We have been so embraced and held and kept this week in the East Coast, welcomed by love and lifted by the support of strangers turned into friends. It has been a gift- to see my son adored by our hosts, to open message after message of East Coast colleagues welcoming us to their land, to share meals with people I have known only through names in a book of Covenant ministers. There is such goodness there.
For too long we have lived alone, without this sort of gracious community. We have, of course, been given the gifts of several churches, of colleagues from other faith traditions who have loved us so well, of friends in our home city who welcome us with joy, but this lavish, radiant support- here in the East and from all over the globe through the wonder of social media- this gift is beyond it all. And so we have soaked this in and soaked this up and wondered in wordless awe how in the world do we ever repay such gifts. We cannot. We can only receive and vow to do the same for someone else who needs the support and love we have so graciously been given. Read the rest of this entry »
Weighty Stuff
April 21, 2015
I realize that I haven’t written in quite a bit. It’s been busy, and I’ve been sick… and mostly, we’ve been carrying heavy stuff lately. The kind of stuff where to get through you just have to lower your chin and push forward. The kind of stuff where if you stop to think- to reflect- you might stop altogether and melt into the ground right where you stand and never move again.
So, the grit of God has visited us, giving us the ability to carry the heavy, to lean on the muscles of heaven, and to just go. To just get it done.So I haven’t stopped. I haven’t reflected. We’ve just hit the “go” button and kept going. The stuff of perseverance and endurance is pure grit. Just because we are given the grace to endure doesn’t mean that it is easy to do. But being gifted with strength from God is a weird thing. It comes. His strength comes and though we are weary and sore and tired, that strength makes tomorrow happen. And it makes tomorrow bearable.
And so that what we do. We don’t know how, because it is only the grace of God that does it. But we get it done. We dig in. We press in. We keep pushing forward. Read the rest of this entry »
Pieces
March 27, 2015
My son broke a plate recently. It was a brand that was supposed to be unbreakable, but when it shattered, it broke into more pieces that I have ever seen any other plate have. We are still finding shards weeks later.
Sometimes life feels like that broken plate. Pieces, sometimes many pieces, scattered across the floor of the soul. Tiny shards that hide away in crevices to be found long after you’ve swept up the mess. Pieces that don’t make a whole anymore.
I found a broken piece hidden in a crack in my soul this week. It all started with an email from someone I used to know well. And suddenly, in those moments, I felt the prick of a broken piece of glass in my heart, long after- years after- I had swept up the shards. But it caused me to revisit that place of pain. To allow God to tend to it with the loving care that only Jesus can offer.
Some pieces of life just aren’t fixable. At least not this side of heaven. It’s a reality that sits heavy on many of us- no matter all our attempts to grow, to be in relationship, to love, to care- some things are not reconcilable. Some pieces never find their way back to the whole.
And so we live in that tension. I live in that tension.
And the thing about living in tension is this: in tension we can see God’s grace all the more. In the aching, shard-pricked parts of us that we long to be healed and whole and freed from. In the things that can be forgiven but never restored. In the moments when we accept the limits of others and at the same time, grieve because their limits mean you will not find fulfillment.
Acceptance of broken shards is grace. The ability to carry such heavy burdens and consistently find the strength of God helping us along, lifting it from us. There’s a lostness in the process; but in being lost we find Jesus. The Jesus who comes to us.
So whenever the tiny pricks of broken stories shift in our souls, making us jump as we realize their existence in us, we are prompted to lift our hands to the Lord, and trust his wide berth of grace. And continue to walk in the ways he would have for us.
ordinary sacred 