Open

Gracious God, I am having trouble praying for others. My own prayers seem so urgent and all consuming...I have no time or patience for others and their concerns. I leave the house and the world seems the same. It doesn't seem to understand what is shaping up in my life. The radio hosts laugh and joke. Politicians blabber on. Strangers complain about gas prices and the line they must wait in. They don't know. They can't know. I barely understand myself.

And yet, there are real hurts among us all. Hurts friends, and strangers, carry that are hidden from view. I have often been blind to their needs. Forgive me.

So, protect my heart from hardening and my self from turning inward. Keep me open to the larger needs, those beyond me and mine. Teach me to empty myself as your Son did...remind me that your Grace is ever flowing.

Amen.

I'm Ready...

Well my friends, it looks like I am all set for my *favorite* holiday.

--Spiders? Check.
--Cobwebs? Check.
--Dust covering the furniture to give it that aged look? Check.
--Scary cries coming from the house? Check.
--Savage dog barking? Check.
--Dark mold growing? Check.
--Clutter out to trip over? Check.

Bring on Halloween!


Today, is cleaning day.

Eight Years Ago...

Thoughts I found upon our 8th anniversary.
In this day and age when it is common place to wonder, "Why get married?" and more often, "Why stay married?" the last two paragraphs give words to what I feel about this calling, marriage.
Love to my beloved today and always...

Wendell Berry, from "Poetry and Marriage"
The meaning of marriage begins in the giving of words. We cannot join ourselves to one another without giving our word. And this must be an unconditional giving, for in joining ourselves to one another we join ourselves to the unknown. We can join one another only by joining the unknown. We must not be misled by the procedures of experimental thought: in life, in the world, we are never given two known results to choose between, but only one result that we choose without knowing what it is.

Marriage rests upon the immutable givens that compose it: words, bodies, characters, histories, places. Some wishes cannot succeed; some victories cannot be won; some loneliness is incorrigible. But there is relief and freedom in knowing what is real; these givens come to us out of the perennial reality of the world, like the terrain we live on. One does not care for this ground to make it a different place, or to make it perfect, but to make it inhabitable and to make it better. To flee from its realities is only to arrive at them unprepared.

Because the condition of marriage is worldly and its meaning communal, no one party to it can be solely in charge. What you alone think it ought to be, I is not going to be. where you alone think you want it to go, it is not going to go. It is going where the two of you—and marriage, time, life, history, and the world—will take it. You do not know the road; you have committed your life to a way.

Forms join us to time, to the consequences and fruitions of our own passing. The Zen student, the poet, the husband, the wife—none knows with certainty what he or she is staying for, but all know the likelihood that they will be staying “awhile”: to find out what they are staying for. And it is the faith of all of these disciplines that they will not stay to find that they should not have stayed.

That faith has nothing to do with what is usually called optimism. As the traditional marriage ceremony insists, not everything that we stay to find out will make us happy. The faith, rather, is that by staying, and only by staying, we will learn something of the truth, that the truth is good to know, and that it is always both different and larger than we thought.

Batman in the Quad Cities

To lighten the mood a bit I'll give a Big Boy quote from tonight...

As he was playing, he called out from the other room, "Mom, is Batman playing in the Quad Cities now?" Huh?

Those of you who know me know how odd it is that he knows anything about Batman; and the Quad Cities? Well, we just drove through twice and are preparing for a third...and fourth drive through but...how odd is that?

The way his brain is putting bits and pieces together right now is equal parts hilarious and frightening.

He walked up to me yesterday during the Today Show (which he wasn't watching) and said, "You can get 2 for $4." and handed me a fisher price chicken.

Of course he's getting these bits and pieces from the little tv and radio he overhears during the day. Sigh.

At this rate I will have to turn off movies, tv and talk radio. I'll be forced to listen to, gasp!, music. :)

"Why?"

Big Boy has been slowly moving his way through the "Who?" "What?" and now "Whys?" of life. For some time everything was "Where?" then it was "Which?" Now it is "Why?"

Little does he know how fitting this is. There are a lot of "Whys?" floating around our life right now.

As it was recently stated by someone dear to me..."If he can answer that one, he'd make a lot of people happy."

Big Boy's insistent "Why" questions are like nails on the chalk board of my soul for many reasons. First among, I don't ask the question. "Why?" isn't ever at the top of my list. I'm not overly scholarly or investigative. I'm often ok accepting that I don't know how is works or how that happened.

Theologically, I don't think things do happen for a particular reason. Or rather, I don't think God makes things happen for a particular reason.

Right now, I understand how religion and theology can fail to ease our questions. I've had plenty of struggles and "bad things" happen to me and mine over the years...I've pushed questions of faith around and settled down knowing there isn't an answer this side of heaven. I give my "we are the creatures not the Creator" talk during confirmation. I believe it and it actually sits well with me. But right now, as things are shaping up, it isn't good enough.

It isn't that I need to know the actual "Why" of illness and suffering...it is that I want to know how God stands to see creation in this state. If I allow myself to feel even a fraction of the pain and loss I am experiencing, I can't breathe. How then must God feel?

But I have to say, I'm not feeling all that compassionate towards God right now. :)

Big Boy and others may ask, "Why?" about the state of the world, it is truer to my personality, to state demands. "Make it stop." "Make it better." "How DARE you!?"

This is among my less edited posts and as I write, I realize, "How dare you?" is exactly where I am at.

Forget "Why?" no reason would be good enough.

Hey, Who Turned the Lights On?

After weeks of 8 to 10 hours of sleeping at night, EG has begun to wake up at 3:00am. Sigh. Now, I cut her some slack, for much of her life she was wrapped up tight and held in place while sleeping. Then when the blankets came off, she threw her hands up over her head, legs falling limp to their sides and she snoozed away...

Then one night, her stomach and back muscles connected and contracted and she pulled her legs up to her side and, Voila! A whole new way to curl up and sleep. Until, last week, when she flipped on to her stomach around 3:00am and didn't know what on earth had happened. WAHHHH...

It isn't just newly tightening stomach muscles keeping her up, either. It is as if someone turned the lights on in the house for her. "Wow, look over there?" "Is that a dog?" "My brother is so funny." And my Daddy...my Daddy makes the funniest faces when I am around." "Oh, oh...over there, that's my Mom, with Mr. Whozit." "Look there....no, there; Turn me around...no, there."

The lights are on and she's taking it all in.

Cliche as it might be to say, I wish I could view life like my children do. All wonder and excitement. Even the ants trooping through our kitchen is cause for joy or the dog's hair all over the floor; a delight! I long for days when my perspective changes, and I am filled with joy...as if the lights went on in this glorious world.

But right now, still less than year after being pregnant, after 4 months in the trenches with a new born and a 2.5 year old's learning curve, currently on steep ascent and nearly eight years of marriage...I'm tired. It isn't even the physical tiredness...rather it is as if my soul is tired. Last time I felt like this, I went away for a worship conference. I was a year or so into my first call. A new marriage, coupled with finishing graduate school, and trooping through the call process, plus the complexity of my congregation, got to me.

For one long weekend I spoke to no one outside of a passing, "Hello." I ate alone. I sat alone in worship. I took in the most amazing liturgies and spent hours strolling the campus and reading in my dorm room.

Not really an option at this stage in my life. People count on me. One, would even starve...(ok, there is such a thing as formula and a freezer full of milk, but you know...it sounds good.) The other two, would live on yogurt, berries and granola. :) They'd be fine.

It isn't even as if I want to run away to a retreat...but a moment to recharge would be good. Time to absorb all that has been going on. A minute of graitude to acknowledge all the new growth and healing. A lull to take stock of the parts that have died and been cut away; time to truly let it go and clean up the debris. Catching my breath would be good.

But the lights have been turned on in the lives of two very dear souls. There is a big world they want to see and talk about...parts of the world, I've seen--the joy might be gone. (parts such as taking forever to get out of the car because it is so fascinating to see how the pretzels smash when you sit on them.) But other parts, I reclaim through their eyes. "Oh, yeah...that is wonderful...or funny...or worthy of pause." (Like, raccoon paw prints forever indented in the concrete outside the clinic or wondering how birds fly SO high. Or the unbridled love on our faces when we look at each other...any of us, looking at the other.) Thanks for reminding me. (Now, shhhhhhh....) Thanks, for reminding me...

Oh, and EG...here's a little life lesson from me to you. At 3:00am. The lights are off. They just are.

Sermon Matthew 13

What I've got as of 9:30pm. We'll see what actually gets preached tomorrow. :)

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

A sower went out to sow. Perhaps it is no conscience that this text always comes around in the lectionary cycle mid-summer. When the corn is knee high, and the tomatoes are ripening on the vine.

This summer, I’ve been vicariously growing a garden by keeping up with my friend’s garden via a web page online and through emails. Her excitement is palpable—from her preparations of the soil—mixing the beautiful rich soil from the ND Red River Valley with the sandy mixture that makes up her new yard in Chicago, to the seed planting party, to photos of the seeds growth and the nights she spends sitting out among the plants anticipating their development and the harvest. It is a joy to experience...from a far.

It has been many years since I attempted a garden. When we first moved into our parsonage in Fargo, I wanted to give it a try. I could have consulted books and made a plan…instead I called my grandparents who lived an hour away. I enlisted a parishioner to till up the soil and picked out some seeds I thought would be fun to grow. When my grandparents arrived to help, what was to be a little garden, became a whole big event…and a memory I will cherish. At the time, I just stood back and watched them work. My grandpa has a certain way he likes to plant a garden. (EXPAND ON) “Precision” doesn’t quite fully explain it. We measured and planned. We stopped short of getting out the level to see if the rows were straight. We made perfect circles for the cucumbers. The tomatoes and peppers are evenly spaced. We didn’t waste or lose one seed. The garden produced a bounty and it was beautiful...but between the weed and the harvesting, I haven't attempted much beyond a flower bed since. (But, that is for another sermon.)

A sower went out to sow.

In Matthew’s Parable of the Sower, it isn’t any old farmer that goes out to sow. This is, of course, the Sower of the Universe….the one who created light and oxygen and soil and seeds. This sower not only plants cucumber and watermelon seeds…but also plants seeds of grace and forgiveness, justice and mercy, deep within creation…waiting patiently for the good growth to sprout.

While my friend may reflect some of God’s joy at watching these seeds grow….God the sower does not plant seed quite the same way as any farmer or gardener I know of, especially not my grandparents. From this parable, it seems God throws out the seed willy-nilly all over the soil. And in turn, some of the seed falls on rocky soil and some falls on good soil. Birds eat some of it; the hot sun consumes other seeds. There is apparently no care for the seeds placement or consideration of cost benefit analysis. Frankly, it seems a little wasteful.

I have this image of God standing in the fields of our life with a huge, bottomless bag of seed—seed that is God’s Word—and with an overflowing handful God begins to spin. As God spins the Word is sent out all over our lives—love, mercy, forgiveness, patience scatters down over us. It falls in every nook and cranny—every corner.

This is, of course, not how we plant a garden…nor it seems, how we spread the Gospel. But perhaps it is how we are meant to.

In today’s parable Jesus is teaching his disciples about spreading the Word. It is meant to encourage them—because if they thought proclaiming the gospel was like any other profession, they were going to get discouraged pretty quickly. We’ve all known the feeling of being passionate about something; sure that everyone else will catch your zeal…only to be crushed by another’s indifference. I imagine Jesus preparing the disciples for lives spend sowing seeds that they may never see the fruits of. The Word they spread was going to fall in every type of life. Some will be “good soil” hearing the word, as Jesus says, “who indeed bear fruit and yields in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty.”

But none of us is completely made up of one type of soil…we aren’t just hard defensive rocks, most us aren’t all easy going, weak sand, we can’t just be brittle clay…no one is pure rich soil. One day the Word may catch us and another fall on a hard place. As we disciples scatter the Gospel, it is nearly impossible to fully know another person’s soil content—perhaps we best leave that to God.

But every congregation I’ve ever been a part of has, at one point or another, measured their ministry by the world’s standards verses God’s. “We have this precious seed”, we think…”Where can we plant it to get the most growth?” “Who will it benefit the most?” Ministry programs are carefully analyzed. Budgets are considered. Space, time, volunteer numbers…all of it weighted and factored in. Events and worship services are kept based on how many people attended. Success is often measured by human standards--human standards and the mind set of scarcity. Very seldom do we grab a handful of the Gospel and just start spinning…

Often our relationships are treated the same way. A tough heart. A cross word. A bad decision. And our reaction is to withdraw, to stop sowing. We give up on some people, feeling as if we are wasting our time trying to talk with them, or love them, or forgive them, or reach them. When days, weeks, months, YEARS go by and we see minimal progress or growth in our friends or family or our kids. We wonder, “What has it all been for?” “How long can we pray?” “How long does hope hold out?” Very seldom do we grab a handful of the Gospel and start spinning…

Unfortunately, we treat ourselves the same way. We try and we try and we try…we feel growth…the seeds of patience and maturity taking root, love seems to be blooming…only to get caught up in hate or gossip or envy or ill will, and feel the old self return. It is painful to realize we aren’t as mature as we thought. When that happens it is hard to offer ourselves grace. Hard to be human—easy to turn on ourselves. We wonder what all the work was for and why even try again…it is hard to grab a handful of the Gospel and spin….

A sower went out to sow.

The seeds of love and forgiveness that our lives plant on this earth won’t always bear fruit. Some of the seeds will blow far, far away. Some will fall and be burnt up, some of it will drown. Some of it just won’t take. Some of it destroyed by hate and violence. Some by fear. Not all of it will take root just now.

This is a grace-filled message for those of charged with proclaiming the gospel…Our task is not to measure and arrange a neat garden, our task is to keep on planting. God will provide the nutrients necessary…there will be growth. That is God’s promise to creation. Perhaps not everywhere, perhaps not every time, perhaps not the amount we hoped for…but growth, when we keep planting.

Archbishop Oscar Romero’s prayer came to mind…

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,
knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation
in realizing that. This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well. It may be incomplete,
but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
Amen.

This world is made up all sorts of soil—some ready for planting, some too rough and hard to take seed yet. Many a person might wonder why God would continue to waste good seed on us. After all we’ve made quite a mess of creation…only making it worse from what I can gather. Self preservation is often our first goal. We aren’t the most lovable some days. We’ve got hard shells and worn out spirits. We doubt and worry. We fear and fret. So often we want the planting to go our way and growth to happen on our calendar.

God seems to know this and in spite of it, maybe because of our weakness, God doesn’t seem to think it is wasteful at all to keep heaping on the love and scattering hope. Over and over again God keeps replanting our lives with his gracious love.

I don’t know for sure what seeds God has planted in your lives, I’m not completely sure what seeds you are sending out in to the world…but know that there has been promised growth. Hold on to the image of God, standing in a field of your life, spinning and spinning--sending out love and forgiveness with each turn--around and around. There is good soil to be found. God has made sure of that. Good soil in creation, good soil in those around us, good soil in us…there is always the possibility for growth.

A sower has gone out to sow. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Is it wrong...

to eat one Dairy Queen ice cream cone, finish it up, and then as you are driving home later stop at the Dairy Queen closer to your house for another cone?

Just asking. A completely hypothetical situation.

Life Giving?

For some time now, I have had one too many caringbridge sites to follow. I'd rather have zero but instead I have five or six. Two of which are near and dear to my family's hearts. Yuck. Sigh.

But today, I am not sighing over the people's conditions reported on at the sites, but on the well being of those commenting on some of them. I catch myself offering prayers for the supporters and friends.

Some of the comments simply reflect a piece of the Christian body that is foreign to me. Some reflect theology that is just uncomfortable for me. Some are just not well thought out. All of them come from people hurting and grasping for words of comfort...comfort for the one with the diagnosis, and comfort for themselves as they feel completely helpless and weak...and well, human.

Many comments speak of a "miracle." Some allude to the number of visits and marvel that surely God will act because of the great number of people praying. "God can't help but take notice." More than one offers the platitude that "God has a plan."

I sincerely, do. not. understand. With all compassion and love, how is this helping either party?

Perhaps many of us, in the heat of the crisis, don't think our theology out to the next step...

And if a miracle doesn't happen? Whatever that miracle may be, when it doesn't happen, what then do you say about God?

My fear is people blame themselves...

needed to pray more
there was some unrepentant sin
didn't trust enough
didn't do, didn't do, didn't do...and God forgot us or worse, just turned away in disgust.
Must worker hard for God to notice...

I can't believe in a God who practices conditional love. 'If/then' theology doesn't work for me. It breaks my heart (and I am filled with more than a bit of anger) when I hear it taught, modeled and preached. I wonder, "how is it life sustaining for anyone?"

When my heart is breaking over the state of the world, the pain in people's lives, and the uncertainty of life, when I am crippled over at the weight of my own sin; I can't believe in a God that practices 'if/then' love.

God has loved us through quite a bit of "stuff" since daylight first broke and the sun first set. From what I've heard and experienced, God has never waited for us to get our act together before participating in our lives.

When I am in pain, I find it much more comforting to know God is crying with me, angry and hurt, even more than I am, at death, sickness and sin. I find it much more comforting to think God takes notice of all of creation--regardless of whether we have our act together, regardless of how many prayers we have offered up, regardless of if we've said the "right words and actions"or not. God who seeks out all of us lost and wandering people...not only takes notice, but acts in our lives. Unconditionally, reaches out in love, hope and mercy.

We humans can so easily take God and mold the Creator of the Universe for our own human purpose--making God fit in to the mold we can most relate to. I do it all the time. Many would say that I've done it with this post.

Today, I am thankful for God's patience with us and the never ceasing participation in our lives. May our comments be life giving and our lives filled with hope.

We Believe What We Want to Believe...

Isn't that the truth?!

I struggle with this nearly every day--how to be gracious to those I passionately disagree with as I *try* to understand why we are coming at life from such a different perspective. That's my mature way of saying, "When I am so clearly, right, and they are so clearly, wrong." I'd write something, but the Sarcastic Lutheran said it better. So for now, read this and know that I say, "Amen." and "May Your Kingdom Come." (especially to the prayer at the end.)

Sermon Matthew 10:40-42

My sermon for tomorrow (or something like it)...good grief, I can put this process off. My only solace is that my pastor growing up didn't start his sermons until 11pm on Saturday. I am a whole two hours ahead of him. :)

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ. Amen.

Finally, we get to the good part. If you’ve been round the last few weeks you’ll remember that the Gospel texts have been working us through chapter 10 of Matthew. Jesus comes home one day and decides it is time to spread the work load out a bit. He looks at the twelve disciples and gives them a job description to end all job descriptions…cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, and cast out demons. Then he tells them that not only is there no funding for them, they must leave behind any worldly goods they might have. He also tells them that this isn’t a job for a family man, seeing as it will cause great division and change among ones brothers and sisters and parents. On top of all this, not everyone is going to be welcoming. The disciples know that they are bringing good news, healing and the power to change lives…but not everyone is ready for this power. Not everyone is prepared for a change. Not everyone wants to hear this story. Some of the towns they come to are going to ask them to keep walking. Some of the doors they knock on are going to remain closed. Many of the people’s hearts they meet are going to remain hard.

Knowing full well that as we hear this Gospel, we are the spiritual descendants of the disciples, with full knowledge that we too are called to live on the sustenance of God alone…by verse 40 we are ready to hear about reward. Finally, it seems we are about to get to the good part.

In Matthew 10, verse 40, Jesus’ attention shifts from his disciples to those who will receive the disciples in their homes and towns. Jesus says, “whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” He goes on to say, “whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple – truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

The disciples are promised ‘welcome,’ and their reward is a cup of water?

Water.

Now I grant you that cool water would have been a welcome relief on a dry desert day. But, if we are honest with ourselves, after all this work, doesn’t a part of us expect the welcome to look a bit more like; a friendly person with open arms bringing us in to the cool relief of their home, giving us some water to drink but also some wine and a hearty meal. Don’t we have visions of someone offering a bowl of water to clean our burning feet and some oil to heal the cracks and scrapes from a day of walking?

But a cup of water? I’ll say this, Jesus remains a realist when it comes to setting the bar of our expectations. It is almost as if the process of following Jesus is as important as the end results.

After all that work, all the demands of discipleship, all that is sacrificed and loss…all someone needs to do is scoop up some water from their well and offer it to us and they are welcomed by God? Both the prophet and the one who receives him will be viewed the same reward?

It seems to me at the end of this discipleship tutorial, Jesus’ real gift to the disciples and to us, is freedom. No matter where we read the text from: either as a disciple going out, or as someone offering to serve “a little one”…the reward is freedom. We are free to try. Try to offer love, try to serve, try to speak up, try to tackle sin, try to bring life. Our efforts might end in failure…a closed heart, deaf ears, a slammed door. Our efforts might result in new life. We are free to be human and that, my dear friends, is God’s grace.

When I first moved to Peoria, we lived in a temporary apartment and to escape all the boxes I would aimlessly wander around the Lakeview library branch. One day I saw a brochure for the Newcomers’ Club. I took a huge leap out of my comfort zone to attend a lunch. In that leap I discovered the one great things about this town. Most people aren't from here...or rather most of the people I know aren’t. And because of this, people are quite quick to welcome the new person. Many of the families are corporate transfers who are skilled at making community and setting up a home fast. That is rare for a town this size. In most Midwest (and perhaps all over) communities you hear stories of how entrenched the social circles are--based on which high school or college you attended. Your family is probably still around so there is that added comfort zone. It can be a hard place to break in to existing social circles.

When we lived in Fargo, even though I worked in the community before becoming a pastor and participated in activities outside of the church, over the three years we lived there, I developed no friendship outside of my pastoral colleagues. When we moved, I knew isolation would be an issue so I took some risks and actively sought out people.

In hindsight I find it telling that I thought this group would be a good means to meet people verses, say, a church. But let’s be honest, churches are rarely as welcoming as they think they are. If you’ve never had to do it, let me tell you--it is hard to break into this particular social system—this coming from a Christian, a Lutheran, someone who understands what membership is about, and a pastor.

Entering a club specifically for people new to area means you need to strengthen your small talk skills. The disciples in today’s Gospel were meant to move around and proclaim the gospel, opening each conversation with the words, “The kingdom of heaven has come near.” I don’t imagine you and I open every conversation like this…and our lives don’t always reflect this proclamation either. Imagine if you opened each casual conversation with these words…how exactly would you be received?

I imagine very few of us would open right up with, “Hi, I’m Gayle or Steve…I’m a disciple of Jesus Christ and the Kingdom of God has come near.” But when you are pastor…try as you might to fend off that topic, it always comes up. “And what do you do?” A part of me always hesitates not because I’m ashamed or denying my call but because I know it is going to change the course of the conversation and our relationship forever. Some people close down. Some get angry. Some open up…some open up too much. Blessed be the ones who continue to treat me as they did before they learned my calling.

Of course, I imagine all of us have moments where we know our identity as a Child of God has turned people away or brought them closer to us. Where it has changed the course of our relationship with a person. Not wanting change, not wanting to deal with the conflict our identity might bring on…we begin to go it alone. Fear and doubt join us on our journey. Or begin to close down ourselves, slamming doors…becoming entrenched in our faith community, forgetting that our job description was to go out there, to be among those people.

What my time within the Newcomers’ club as taught me is this…We are all visitors. This flawed and broken world--one that can be so lonely and isolating--is not our home. It helps me to remember as I move around that none of us feel completely comfortable where we are...that everyone I come across is a bit lost, a bit of a newcomer. We are all in need of hospitality and grace, no matter how long we've lived at one address or another...together we live in this foreign land searching and yearning for those moments of the Kingdom to break in, for God to hold us...to be truly welcomed.

Discipleship is about the process of following Christ. The end goal belongs to God and God has already shared that reward with us. God has welcomed us Eternal life is ours, God’s love and mercy is ours. . Instead of a life lived in pursuit of a reward, discipleship is the lifelong attempt to trust in God’s promise to provide and care for us. We do not follow Jesus in search of a reward--because at the end our earthly reward may only be a cup of water. We follow Jesus because he is the one who grants us the freedom to be human. Broken, questioning, tired…human. Hopeful, awestruck, energized…human. Sinfully human. Sainted, human. God grants us refreshing grace…space and room to attempt to fully be who God created us to be. Through Christ we have freedom from God to try—to follow where Christ leads us, to open ourselves up to the visitor, to knock on hearts, to serve and love the other, to live as though the kingdom of God has indeed come near and invite others to join us. Doors may open, doors may close…but truly I tell you not one who tries will lose their reward.

Amen.

Let's Go Swimming

Wake up. Beautiful day...let's go swimming.
Want new pool.
9:00am
Everyone fed,
clean,
dressed,
in the car.
Drive to Target to get it.
Don't have.
Buy a summer 'chic lit' book, new chalk...ready for fun in the sun.
Drive to Walmart.
Buy pool.
Stop to buy coffee on the way home (not on the way, mind you...) but need to go to the bank so it works out.
Take longer route home because Kathy and Judy are funny. (on radio)
Home.
Unload car.
Emily awake.
Henry "so 'cited, Mom."
Change one diaper.
Get Henry dressed,
sunscreen,
swim diaper,
swim suit.
Change another diaper.
Put on sunscreen.
Get self dressed for outdoors.
Emily crying.
Will. Not. Be. Left. Alone.
Henry begins to whine.
Emily stops crying.
We go out side.
Bring chalk, pool, sunglasses and coffee.
Set up umbrella.
Run back inside--forgot to switch water tank to softened water--convince Henry to come in.
Back outside.
Hook up hose, turn on water.
Begin to fill up pool.
Henry wants to draw with Chalk.
Draw with Chalk.
Emily crying.
Convince Henry to come back inside.
Emily ok.

LUNCH TIME.

Henry wants to come in.
Henry wants to change clothes.
Take off swimsuit and swim diaper.
Begin to make lunch.
Turn off water outside.
Eat lunch.
Convince Henry to stay inside while Emily eats.
Feed Emily.
She will not be left alone.
Emily cries.
Henry cries.
Mommy thinks about crying.
Decide to go back out.
Put swimsuit on Henry.
Put Emily under umbrella.
Henry draws with chalk.
"How about we swim?"
Go to pool.
Look at pool.
Get in pool.
We stand in it for three minutes.

"I all done swimming. That fun, Mommy."
Noon.

Newcomers All of Us

Yesterday, at the monthly Newcomers lunch I met a young woman who had just moved to the area. She had the nervous giddy laugh of someone who isn't quite sure what they had gotten themselves into and that shell shocked look of someone whose clothes are still sitting in the living room in a suitcase and whose coffee maker is in the garage with her toothbrush.

This Newcomers group is something I joined when we first moved here. I was aimlessly wandering around the library one day as I escaped life in the temporary apartment and saw the brochure. I took a huge leap out of my comfort zone to attend a lunch. In the leap I discovered the one great thing about this town. Most people aren't from here...or rather most of the people I know. And because of this, people are quite quick to welcome the new person. Many of the families are corporate transfers who are skilled at making community and setting up a home fast. That is rare for a town this size. Even in Mpls and St. Paul I have heard stories of how entrenched the social circles are--based on which college you attended or which high school you went to. Your family probably still around so there is that added comfort zone. The midwest (and probably everywhere) can be a hard place to break in to existing social circles.

In Fargo, even though I worked in the community before becoming a pastor and did participate in activities outside of the church during the three years we lived there, I developed no friendship outside of colleagues. Not a one.

But I had very close friends nearby so the isolation was easily thawed with a quick trip north or south. But when we moved, I knew isolation would be an issue so I took some risks and actively sought out people.

In hindsight I find it telling that I thought this group would be a good means to meet people verses, say, a church. But church comes with numerous issues for me. And lets be honest churches are rarely as welcoming as they think they are. It is HARD to break into that particular social system--even being a Christian, a Lutheran, a life long member of one church or another, and a pastor. Perhaps it is really just this last title that leads me to seek other avenues for friendship. The pastor baggage can get in the way a bit...in any circle.

While I am thankful for the connections made and the warm welcome I received through the newcomers group, my participation is waning. Over the three and a half years in this town, I have found new connections, real friends, and the newcomer group itself has changed. (The negative part of a town made up of transplants is they are probably going to be re-potted somewhere else sooner or later.) But yesterday, as I drove home from the lunch, I remembered the greatest lesson being a newcomer taught me.

We are all visitors. This flawed and broken world--one that can be so lonely and isolating--is not our home. It helps me to remember as I move around that none of us feel completely comfortable where we are...that everyone I come across is a bit lost, a bit of a newcomer. We are all in need of hospitality and grace, no matter how long we've lived at one address or another...together we live in this foreign land searching and yearning for those moments of the Kingdom to break in, for God to hold us...to be truly, home.

My First Born Spoiled Me

Most of you have known me long enough know just how far Annebelle has fallen in the family hierarchy. Three short years ago she was our prized friend and constant companion. Then we moved her away from the large yard and tens of neighborhood kids in Fargo...depression set in. And then we had Henry. She got mad at us, and we, in turn began to ignore her.

There is no question that owning a dog is good preparation for childcare. It takes some of the edge off. A puppy introduces you to sleepless nights and the never ending clean up of bodily fluids. A responsible dog owner knows you have to plan ahead for a trip, need to consider where to stay and allow for bathroom breaks and meals. Your time is not completely your own. You can't be gone from home for hours on end without an unpleasant surprise greeting you upon your return. There is someone else who relies on your for food, shelter and love. You also learn something about discipline (teaching) and in our case spent lots of time in obedience school learning how to be a better human.

Annebelle listened better when I was calm, when I wasn't angry or out of control. She taught me that consistency works...give the same message the same way and eventually the dog or child will get it. BUT man oh man the learning curve is higher with a kid. :) I catch myself saying 'Come here, Henry' and lo and behold....he DOESN'T come! I say "Sit and stay" and he gets up and moves. I tell him "No" and it is as if I am speaking a language only known to me. I say "lay down in bed" and he jumps up.

I know you aren't suppose to compare your children, but really people, Annebelle had all these lessons by a year. :) It might have had something to do with the collar around her neck and the leash....that or the fact she's a first born. They tend to aim high. ;)

Awe, Work

Most of the year, part of me envies Chad as he leaves for work each morning. Mind you, I, along with the whole world, wouldn't want me to do what he is doing. Rather, it is the fact he leaves for work. That he speaks to people...and from the sounds of it they get to finish their sentences. It is the alone drive time. It is the satisfaction (and even frustrations) of finishing a task and the joy of being apart of a team.

But these days, these glorious summer days, I keep my mouth shut and just enjoy the gift I have been given.

I am just back from the park with friends. Part of my job description is Chief Educator of Large Muscle Groups-2 year old division. So, off we go each day to a park or field to run, jump and climb. Hard to want to be anywhere else when it is 75 degrees, sunny with dry breeze. When one is standing in a park sipping iced tea and soaking in the sun, all the while watching joyful kids learn and grow. All the while knowing that it is truly what you "should" be doing for your kids--it is hard to wish for a desk in a cubicle farm.

Of course, I have real complaints/concerns/whines about the state of the world, including my own life, but today isn't a day for them. Today is a day to offer up prayers where they are needed and then be grateful for all the ways God is at work in the world and in my life.

Love is Tough

Forgive me one more bird story.

Today as I was getting BB ready for his nap we noticed Papa Robina and one of the babies squawking away at each other outside the bedroom window. As we watched, I realized that Papa had food in his beak and was not sharing with the baby.

The rest of this story is anthropomorphism at its best...I imagine that Baby Bird can now find plenty of food for herself. Enough weeks have gone by and it is time for her to catch her own worms. Papa must still be around to help direct and guide, but he was hungry. "Get your own worm." I heard him say. The baby squawked and squawked back in protest. When he wouldn't give, she ran after him with her mouth open--panicked and angry. He calmly kept walking and promptly swallowed the worm.

Months ago in some book on parenting I came across the quote, "I won't do for my child what he can do for himself." (Or something like that...) As someone who has never had a huge need to be 'needed', I appreciated the quote. (Now, a need to be adored, loved, cared for, pampered, listened to, appreciated, understood, heard...yes.)

As my own little bird grows, I realize how hard it is to put this idea into practice. In recent weeks I have just begun to feel the growing pains of parenting. Pains that will continue every day for the rest of our lives and from what I can tell only get stronger and at times more stabbing. It is easy enough to get our babies up and walking...we rejoice in those first milestones. But growth, real growth is harder to encourage. But grow they must. They have to have freedom to fall, fail, flail...and fly. Our stepping in to help them isn't really helpful in the long run.

Now that BB can eat, sleep, talk, move all on his own, the next phases begin. How to truly live. Beneath every simple lesson is a larger one that will shape him into adulthood. Henry isn't a kid that pushes boundaries too much. He is content with most of the constraints put on him. Some constraints are ones any parent would place on their kid, others stem from a father whose own anxiety pushes him to assure a world with no risk for his kids. A fruitless endeavor to be sure. I carry my own set of parental fears, but I bring self awareness to the table and a healthy dose of faith, hope and reality. I am no dare devil but I am brave. Bravery that came from being given the space to experience those four 'f's' I just listed.

But what does happen is, being our first child, I am often slow to realize that he could be doing/trying something new. "Oh, he can sit on a chair verses a highchair." "Oh, he can drink from a big cup." "Oh, he should be learning to ride a trike." "Oh, he can go up and down the playground equipment without plummeting to his death." "Oh, he probably should put his own clothes on." "Oh, yeah...potty training." Over the past two years the list goes on and on.

My mantra of "not doing for him what he can do for himself" is good. It is helpful. It is also exhausting. Two year old pace is sssssssslllllllllloooooooowwwwwwww. I am not a teacher by nature...trying to figure out how to communicate these basic concepts takes work. He is mostly content to let me do it for him. Being consistent in allowing/encouraging him the space to try is hard for me.

But everyday, more and more, he is able to search for his own worms. I believe my job is to let him find them. Putting that belief into action is harder than I ever imagined it to be.

Which, which Mommy?

Conversations I've been having....
Me: Time to get into the car.
BB: Which car?
Our minivan.
Which minivan?
The brown one.
Which brown one?
The one in the garage.
Which garage minivan in?
That one. (I point.)
Which one?
Stop.
Mommy, What we do next?
BB, Let's put your shoe on.
Which shoe?
Your blue sandal?
Which blue sandal?
The one in my hand, now, I want your foot.
Which foot for my blue sandal?
Your left foot.
Which left foot?
This one.
Which one? Mommy, which garage again?

Both DAD and I commented that we feel as if we are on some bad comedy show. We are waiting for a camera to pop out and put us on some realty TV remake of the Abbot and Costello act.

You're the one that I love

Made me laugh. Annebelle is good...not this good, though. :)

Creative Worship Link

Augsburg Fortress is starting a creative worship tour...here is a blog entry about it.

Friends

My friend (facebook and real life) Jennie has a really nice entry on Facebook friendship.