I have thought many times of things to write in this black hole of a cyberspace corner. I have had emotions ranging from pure joy to total frustration- luckily not all the way down to the pits. I have read articles that made me think deep and intellectual thoughts. I have had mommy moments that begged to be recorded. But- life is normal, and write I did not. Right now I have one of those rare moments where the kids are sleeping, the husband isn't home and I fear breaking the silence- so I have nothing else to do but stalk facebook and finally, write.
I have so much to be grateful for. My attitude for once is improved. I feel genuinely grown... if that makes sense. This last year of growth from climbing out of depression, birthing a second child, completing a chaplain internship and dealing with some difficult situations- it has actually made me stronger. It is not always the case that I feel growth from hardship. Many folks out there are the type that can chant "no pain, no gain!" and other cliches like that.... I'm not one of those. Pain is very real and very heartbreaking to me. I usually deal with pain by denial, bittered acceptance, and flippancy. When I engage the pain I run the risk of depression and brokenness. In this past year I've done all this, but most importantly I ultimately and finally grabbed hold and lifted myself up and sat above the pain- exhausted, but triumphant and with a new view. This is a victory for me. It gives me a new way to deal with life's struggles and encourages me to trudge through when I get knocked by it again. I'm also learning to lean- most specifically on my husband- for help in the struggle... for a voice of reason and hope and encouragement that I can trust more than my own. I am deeply grateful for the person my husband is and the integrity he has. I genuinely think that he is the best person in the world. Seriously. It makes me wonder about people who do not have a confidant. I don't mean a spouse- although there is certainly a wealth to be had in that- but I mean the simple and yet profound gift of having another human being that you can be vulnerable with and lean on.
We had a joke in seminary that was more of a "truth" that we spouted to cover every question: "It's all about relationship." I still believe it today- and if I give myself time to think about it- I realize how incredibly sad and poor we as humans are now. How many healthy (or at least functionally working on healthy) relationships do we have? I often see married couples and how they interact (or don't) and wonder how a person can survive will no connection. I have perhaps a handful of people in my life that I would say I have a genuine relationship with. I consider that to be wealthy- but I'm greedy and I want more.
At the core of all that is evil and all that is good- I believe it might trace back to our need for relationship. When we are disconnected- things go awry, when we are connected- there is deep joy (and pain). Been thinking about that lately.
Other things I've been thinking about: how little I think. Ha. I bought a smart phone recently (the latest iphone) and I am in information overload! I was somewhat isolated and clueless as a stay-at-home mom with a husband in a local church and as a resident in a fairly wealthy area of town (yea for church-owned housing!). Now I can read an article that my exceedingly well-informed and intelligent friend shared on facebook. Yes- it's a joke that I'm getting my news from facebook, but the articles are authentic and from good and multiple sources. I've somehow landed on some mailing lists that have increased the news input into my tiny little smart-phone. I could be a technology antagonist and ban the influx, but I am hungry for it. I read an article a little while ago that actually challenged me to think in a different way. I cannot over-emphasize how rare and refreshing that was. To find articles that are well-written and well-sourced being placed neatly in my lap by smarter friends is a blessing that I choose to accept and appreciate. It is a little depressing to see the corruption in the world- but it is necessary for me to see it. How else can I throw punches at it?
All this is happening while I canter through my normal life: making my 4 month old laugh, potty training my almost 3 year old just in time for preschool, volunteering in the crib room, grocery shopping, making vegan meals, working out schedules and chores and discipline and then having space for connection.... because that is what it is all about.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Impromptu Sermon
So I agreed Monday to preach the evening service tonight - and here's the sermon! I'm hoping to get back to some blogging soon. : )
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
16“But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, 17‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.’ 18For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’;19the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”
25At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; 26yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. 28“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find res t for your souls. 30For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
I am a facebook addict. I am. I admit it. I am weirdly intrigued by the minutia of people’s every day thoughts and documentation of life from status updates to pictures (I especially love the pictures). For those of you who aren’t obsessed with facebook- let me give you a brief tutorial on the lingo. Everyone has their own webpage that friends are invited to see and interact on. If I’m having a particularly rough morning- I can go on my facebook page and write something like: “Two temper tantrums, 1 diaper blowout and a skipped nap- gotta love parenthood.” That is what we call a status update or a post. Then my friends who read the post can write a response to that- we call those comments. People will also post links to other websites or articles that they find online. I am ashamed to admit that I learn most of my current events from my much smarter friends who post news stories on their facebook page. It’s a great social networking community with the ability to share pictures and updates on your life. A while ago one of my friends posted a link to a website that listed a series of what they called “annoying facebook one-uppers”- and the common culprit was of course some of the most annoying and obnoxious people in the world: parents. It was basically your general parental postings about temper tantrums, sleepless nights, etc- and the subsequent comments from other parents that recounted their experiences that were obviously so much harder and more traumatizing to deal with. Annoying one-uppers. The examples were like this one that is a real conversation from a friend’s page. (show write up) I understand comraderie- but most of these comments were really to turn the focus on the more horrifyingly awesome story that the new commenter had posted. (If Kristin Wiig a possibiity- do it here)
Although reading these posts was funny- it rang very true to me, how often do you see this in life? People one-upping each other to make themselves feel more important? We have to admit it to ourselves- we - each of us- has a one-upper inside of us. You know you do- you hear a story about a surgery or a child’s cuteness, anything- and you have a story just like it... only better. You want to share- you need to share. Seriously though- here in northern virginia culture there is a pervasiveness of competition. Everyone is awesome in northern virginia- so the goal is to figure out how to prove that you are awesome plus 1. The lagging job market, burgeoning schools and lack of space only exacerbate this cultural norm to compete. This pressure-cooker of competition and one-upmanship causes us to turn the focus inward- to be concerned with how much we know, how good we are and how much more we know and are able to do than others.
Jesus sticks up for the underdog a lot in scriptures. He isn’t impressed with people who beat out the competition and show how awesome plus 1 they are. He doesn’t appreciate the showy-ness of the pharisees or the knowledge of the self-proclaimed wise. This is bad news for smart and competitive folks like us. Or is it good news?
Do you ever think- man- I’m just over it? Over the competition, over having to prove myself, over having to be in these one-upping conversations? It’s frustrating that we are so ingrained in this need to be the best and look the best- it’s hard to escape. It is burdensome. It’s hard to look and be perfect all the time, especially since we aren’t. It seems counter-intuitive, but I think we are the most weary and burdened when all we think about is ourselves.
When I read the scripture for today- after really thinking about it- I got the feeling that Jesus was also kind of over the whole scene of being important and doing what everyone else expects or wants you to do. He talks about the kids fussing with each other in the market- the children won’t laugh or cry at the right time for the other kids. He talks about the irony of people criticizing John for not partying enough and then turning around and criticizing Jesus for partying too much. It’s a little ridiculous. In a sigh of a prayer- Jesus thanks God for giving wisdom to the infants. I think he is just so fed up with people posturing themselves and talking about what they know and how important they are that he just flips it all upside down. Babies know more than these folks- and how refreshing. I believe it. Sometimes I look at my 2 month old son and his innocent smile and just breathe a little sigh of relief. He is not burdened by a thing, and yet he cannot do a thing for himself.
We hear the last phrase in this scripture a lot in Christian circles- and it’s really comforting to hear: “come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” I think we often hear this text as sort of a blanket promise that if we hang out with Jesus- he’ll carry our burdens for us and life will be easier. I’ve actually heard variations of this interpretation often. If you’re like me- you think- really- I feel like my burdens are the same if not more because I hang out with Jesus. My life did not get any easier the second I became a Christian- I didn’t suddenly develop the skill to glide through hardships the second I decided to follow Jesus. If we’re honest- I think we all can agree that life has some real burdens- no matter who you follow or how good you try to be. What could Jesus be saying in this scripture?
Maybe Jesus is not talking about an easier life here but a better way to carry the load. A wiser way - but the wisdom of infants. I hear Jesus telling us that the rest for our souls is found in learning gentleness and humility. I hear that word as a soft whisper of hope under the chaotic noise of competition, one-up-man-ship, defensiveness, and all the other trappings that come with feeling that we need to prove ourselves. The ironic thing that I have found in my relationships with all ages of folks- is that the most humble are the ones who are the most comfortable in their own skin. They are the ones who actually are surest of themselves. This sureness comes from an awareness of their strengths and weaknesses, and an acceptance of them. And when you have this comfort with yourself- you don’t feel the need to prove your worth to others- you already know that you are valuable. Jesus is certainly comfortable with who he is and does not feel the need to assert his power. Can you imagine how much time Jesus would have wasted if his focus was to prove who he was? Instead of focusing on proving his identity, he focused on being his identity- God incarnate.
As I was reading some commentaries on this scripture passage- something struck me that might be obvious to you- but it was a helpful distinction for me. When I heard the word yoke- I always heard it as synonymous with burden... but really the yoke is a method for carrying a burden. Like this yoke on the altar- it is a simple device placed on an animal that makes it easier to pull a heavy load. The load feels light. Often these yokes are shared between two animals to pull the load together.
Now I can get really into this whole yoke analogy and extrapolate all sorts of helpful nuances- but what I find most helpful is that Jesus isn’t promising the burdens to disappear. Jesus is offering to share the load- and what’s more- Jesus is sharing his yoke which is made so well that the burdens may feel lighter. Jesus is also asking you to lay down your burdens and share in his burdens, which do not involve puffing ourselves up or winning the competition- but rather, they are more valuable burdens to bear.
If we look closer at this scripture we can see the work that Jesus asks us to do. Jesus says: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Part of the process of being able to lay down our heavy burdens is that we learn from Jesus’ gentleness and humility. That is what gives us rest, that is what makes the yoke easy and burdens light- and it is hard work.
If we drop the burdens of being the best, drop the need to prove ourselves, drop the battle that we war on ourselves with every critical thought and self-loathing behavior, we might find rest. We have a chance to escape from the confines of a narrow self-focused vision. We have the hope to be free from concern of scrutiny and judgement. We can turn our attention to caring for others and sharing their loads- this is the worthy load that Jesus carries.
Maybe there are some of you who are one of the babes that Jesus speaks about- you have managed to escape the tick that most of us have compelling us to one-up each other, thinking more and more of ourselves and less and less of others. Bless you who are graced with a natural gentleness and humility. Help the rest of us in our journey. Pray for us.
So here is my challenge to all of us in the coming weeks. Let’s learn from the gentle and humble Jesus. Let’s stop ourselves before we stop listening and start telling our story. Let’s recognize that God has created us and called us good- we can rest in that affirmation and stop proving ourselves to each other. Let’s get over ourselves. Then we are free to pick up the yoke of Christ and carry the burdens worth carrying. We can stop carrying our selfishness and start carrying others. We can stop carrying our high standard of living and start carrying the homeless. We can stop carrying our genius title and start carrying the mentally disabled. We can stop carrying our precarious hold of power and start carrying the powerless. We can stop carrying our ego and start carrying the hopes and dreams of our neighbors. Let’s drop the burdens of being important and all knowing- and learn from Jesus’ gentleness and humbleness and pick up the burdens of those who need our help. Amen.
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
16“But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, 17‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.’ 18For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’;19the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”
25At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; 26yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. 28“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find res t for your souls. 30For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
I am a facebook addict. I am. I admit it. I am weirdly intrigued by the minutia of people’s every day thoughts and documentation of life from status updates to pictures (I especially love the pictures). For those of you who aren’t obsessed with facebook- let me give you a brief tutorial on the lingo. Everyone has their own webpage that friends are invited to see and interact on. If I’m having a particularly rough morning- I can go on my facebook page and write something like: “Two temper tantrums, 1 diaper blowout and a skipped nap- gotta love parenthood.” That is what we call a status update or a post. Then my friends who read the post can write a response to that- we call those comments. People will also post links to other websites or articles that they find online. I am ashamed to admit that I learn most of my current events from my much smarter friends who post news stories on their facebook page. It’s a great social networking community with the ability to share pictures and updates on your life. A while ago one of my friends posted a link to a website that listed a series of what they called “annoying facebook one-uppers”- and the common culprit was of course some of the most annoying and obnoxious people in the world: parents. It was basically your general parental postings about temper tantrums, sleepless nights, etc- and the subsequent comments from other parents that recounted their experiences that were obviously so much harder and more traumatizing to deal with. Annoying one-uppers. The examples were like this one that is a real conversation from a friend’s page. (show write up) I understand comraderie- but most of these comments were really to turn the focus on the more horrifyingly awesome story that the new commenter had posted. (If Kristin Wiig a possibiity- do it here)
Although reading these posts was funny- it rang very true to me, how often do you see this in life? People one-upping each other to make themselves feel more important? We have to admit it to ourselves- we - each of us- has a one-upper inside of us. You know you do- you hear a story about a surgery or a child’s cuteness, anything- and you have a story just like it... only better. You want to share- you need to share. Seriously though- here in northern virginia culture there is a pervasiveness of competition. Everyone is awesome in northern virginia- so the goal is to figure out how to prove that you are awesome plus 1. The lagging job market, burgeoning schools and lack of space only exacerbate this cultural norm to compete. This pressure-cooker of competition and one-upmanship causes us to turn the focus inward- to be concerned with how much we know, how good we are and how much more we know and are able to do than others.
Jesus sticks up for the underdog a lot in scriptures. He isn’t impressed with people who beat out the competition and show how awesome plus 1 they are. He doesn’t appreciate the showy-ness of the pharisees or the knowledge of the self-proclaimed wise. This is bad news for smart and competitive folks like us. Or is it good news?
Do you ever think- man- I’m just over it? Over the competition, over having to prove myself, over having to be in these one-upping conversations? It’s frustrating that we are so ingrained in this need to be the best and look the best- it’s hard to escape. It is burdensome. It’s hard to look and be perfect all the time, especially since we aren’t. It seems counter-intuitive, but I think we are the most weary and burdened when all we think about is ourselves.
When I read the scripture for today- after really thinking about it- I got the feeling that Jesus was also kind of over the whole scene of being important and doing what everyone else expects or wants you to do. He talks about the kids fussing with each other in the market- the children won’t laugh or cry at the right time for the other kids. He talks about the irony of people criticizing John for not partying enough and then turning around and criticizing Jesus for partying too much. It’s a little ridiculous. In a sigh of a prayer- Jesus thanks God for giving wisdom to the infants. I think he is just so fed up with people posturing themselves and talking about what they know and how important they are that he just flips it all upside down. Babies know more than these folks- and how refreshing. I believe it. Sometimes I look at my 2 month old son and his innocent smile and just breathe a little sigh of relief. He is not burdened by a thing, and yet he cannot do a thing for himself.
We hear the last phrase in this scripture a lot in Christian circles- and it’s really comforting to hear: “come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” I think we often hear this text as sort of a blanket promise that if we hang out with Jesus- he’ll carry our burdens for us and life will be easier. I’ve actually heard variations of this interpretation often. If you’re like me- you think- really- I feel like my burdens are the same if not more because I hang out with Jesus. My life did not get any easier the second I became a Christian- I didn’t suddenly develop the skill to glide through hardships the second I decided to follow Jesus. If we’re honest- I think we all can agree that life has some real burdens- no matter who you follow or how good you try to be. What could Jesus be saying in this scripture?
Maybe Jesus is not talking about an easier life here but a better way to carry the load. A wiser way - but the wisdom of infants. I hear Jesus telling us that the rest for our souls is found in learning gentleness and humility. I hear that word as a soft whisper of hope under the chaotic noise of competition, one-up-man-ship, defensiveness, and all the other trappings that come with feeling that we need to prove ourselves. The ironic thing that I have found in my relationships with all ages of folks- is that the most humble are the ones who are the most comfortable in their own skin. They are the ones who actually are surest of themselves. This sureness comes from an awareness of their strengths and weaknesses, and an acceptance of them. And when you have this comfort with yourself- you don’t feel the need to prove your worth to others- you already know that you are valuable. Jesus is certainly comfortable with who he is and does not feel the need to assert his power. Can you imagine how much time Jesus would have wasted if his focus was to prove who he was? Instead of focusing on proving his identity, he focused on being his identity- God incarnate.
As I was reading some commentaries on this scripture passage- something struck me that might be obvious to you- but it was a helpful distinction for me. When I heard the word yoke- I always heard it as synonymous with burden... but really the yoke is a method for carrying a burden. Like this yoke on the altar- it is a simple device placed on an animal that makes it easier to pull a heavy load. The load feels light. Often these yokes are shared between two animals to pull the load together.
Now I can get really into this whole yoke analogy and extrapolate all sorts of helpful nuances- but what I find most helpful is that Jesus isn’t promising the burdens to disappear. Jesus is offering to share the load- and what’s more- Jesus is sharing his yoke which is made so well that the burdens may feel lighter. Jesus is also asking you to lay down your burdens and share in his burdens, which do not involve puffing ourselves up or winning the competition- but rather, they are more valuable burdens to bear.
If we look closer at this scripture we can see the work that Jesus asks us to do. Jesus says: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Part of the process of being able to lay down our heavy burdens is that we learn from Jesus’ gentleness and humility. That is what gives us rest, that is what makes the yoke easy and burdens light- and it is hard work.
If we drop the burdens of being the best, drop the need to prove ourselves, drop the battle that we war on ourselves with every critical thought and self-loathing behavior, we might find rest. We have a chance to escape from the confines of a narrow self-focused vision. We have the hope to be free from concern of scrutiny and judgement. We can turn our attention to caring for others and sharing their loads- this is the worthy load that Jesus carries.
Maybe there are some of you who are one of the babes that Jesus speaks about- you have managed to escape the tick that most of us have compelling us to one-up each other, thinking more and more of ourselves and less and less of others. Bless you who are graced with a natural gentleness and humility. Help the rest of us in our journey. Pray for us.
So here is my challenge to all of us in the coming weeks. Let’s learn from the gentle and humble Jesus. Let’s stop ourselves before we stop listening and start telling our story. Let’s recognize that God has created us and called us good- we can rest in that affirmation and stop proving ourselves to each other. Let’s get over ourselves. Then we are free to pick up the yoke of Christ and carry the burdens worth carrying. We can stop carrying our selfishness and start carrying others. We can stop carrying our high standard of living and start carrying the homeless. We can stop carrying our genius title and start carrying the mentally disabled. We can stop carrying our precarious hold of power and start carrying the powerless. We can stop carrying our ego and start carrying the hopes and dreams of our neighbors. Let’s drop the burdens of being important and all knowing- and learn from Jesus’ gentleness and humbleness and pick up the burdens of those who need our help. Amen.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Sermonized
So- I preached today. Felt good although I will say at 34 weeks pregnant, I might have overstepped my physical boundaries to preach all 4 services. I got a good nap this afternoon- and now I am trying to relax a little before having a good long muddy day tomorrow with Hunter (it has been raining all day!!). For those who would like it- here is a copy of my sermon. : )
Sermon- March 6th
Matthew 17:1-9
The Transfiguration
17Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. 2And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. 3Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. 4Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I* will make three dwellings* here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ 5While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved;* with him I am well pleased; listen to him!’ 6When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. 7But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Get up and do not be afraid.’ 8And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.
9 As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, ‘Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’
You know- my family has this expression when we encounter experiences that are different- if something is funny we’ll say “that’s some kind of funny.” The prefix “that’s some kind of..” works for a lot of things. After reading this scripture- I find myself saying: This transfiguration story is some kind of weird. When reading scripture, I try to put myself somewhere in the audience, become a disciple, a samaritan, the woman at the well, and if I’m really daring- I put myself in Jesus’ shoes. This story I tried a few angles. The easiest one is to become the disciples- experience this mountain top transfiguration light up. Imagine you are one of the 3 disciples who saw this happen. What would your reaction be? All I can think of is- what just happened? And the poor disciples get the gag order from Jesus- don’t say anything until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead. Well- if we’re honest with ourselves as disciples in this story- even the gag order is confusing. What is Jesus doing? Who is he talking about when he says Son of Man? Why did he just light up and bring our favorite pop artists of prophecy and ancestry to chat on a mountain? WHAT JUST HAPPENED?
But don’t talk about it. Sit with it. Let it stew in your mind until the time is right, which hopefully will be obvious even though it isn’t right now.
Jesus is really cool and shiny- but if I got the gag order after this amazing and confusing experience, I think I would be a little put-off. How am I supposed to take this experience if I don’t talk to my Mom, sister, friend and dog about it? Can I at least have a little small group discussion with my fellow witnesses on the way down the mountain? How do I process this event if I don’t unpack it, write about it and maybe come up with some lyrics for a song?
Don’t mention it until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead. Wait.
In our church experience- we are about to enter into the season of lent. This is a very meaningful time in the rituals of our church life. We get faced with death- we recognize our ashes on Ash Wednesday and strive with the growing light of day for all things shiny and new. We want spring, we want Jesus alive and well, we want shiny happy people all around. We ache for spring at this point. I personally have a love/hate relationship with lent. To me- it can sometimes be a little overkill. Just when I want to fly up to the sun and lasso it closer to the earth- we get toyed around with crazy weather patterns 20 degree nights followed by 60 degree days followed by a monsoon followed by a potential late in the season snow storm. Gardening folks do the back and forth dance guessing at what point they can plant their crop without threat of another frost. And it always seems that Mother Earth has one last frost in her pocket just when you think you’re in the clear. Winter is a lingering house guest you want to kick out. Then we have our church ritualizing our despair. The church forces us to look at the dead leaves on the ground, the lack of green and the barrenness around us. We smudge ashes on our foreheads or hands and get told not to say hallelujah until the time is right. But this is time when we yearn the most for hallelujah and green! We get a little lucky on years like this when lent falls later in the year and we cheat by looking at the coming buds on our trees. But usually we just stare at darkness and barrenness and the church trains our eyes to keep us focused on that.
Don’t even say hallelujah until the Son of Man Rises from the Dead on Easter Sunday.
Why do we do this as a church? Why do we give ourselves the gag order during lent- sort of wallowing in the ashes until Easter comes? Why does Jesus give these poor disciples an amazingly confusing mountaintop experience, only to tell them- don’t be afraid and wait, shhh?
Maybe there is credit to Jesus’ command to be silent and wait. Maybe there is some wisdom in letting something percolate inside your brain before you talk, write, dance, sing and shout about it. Maybe we miss something in the verbiage that we can only notice in the silence. I don’t know a huge amount about other cultures, but I get the sense that Americans are increasingly awful at waiting and being silent. In my chaplain internship, a woman, Linda, spoke of her experience traveling to other countries and living in Thailand for a couple of years. She said one day she was conversing with a woman from Japan and suddenly was struck by the fact that she had been asking all the questions. Linda fell silent and then asked one more question to her new friend- she asked- why haven’t you asked me any questions? The woman replied: In my culture it is considered rude to ask a lot of questions. Oops. Linda felt silly at first and then reflected on how strange the contrasts of our cultures are. Americans feel it is rude or poor manners if you do not inquire into the lives of others.
I’m not proposing that we stop asking questions of each other or especially of life. Lord knows I’m the queen of questions. I am wondering if we might balance our cultural tendency to ask, speak, label and pick things apart with moments of silence and waiting. Maybe this is why I have a love/hate relationship with lent. It forces us to actively and with awareness, wait. Wait for Easter, wait for Spring, wait for the glory of God revealed. It forces us to reflect in that time of waiting.
Maybe this experience on the mountain was one that Jesus wanted his disciples to think about before they started talking. It was obvious even during the transfiguration event that the disciples were confused and misled on what to do. They automatically went to the mode of- let’s build a dwelling - one for each of you- Moses, Jesus and Elijah. This is an echo of the ancient Hebrew way of understanding God. God was a being that lived in the sacred places that God instructed the Hebrew people to make. God dwelt amongst the Israelites in the tabernacle. God was in the clouds on mount Sinai and Moses only saw God pass and came down the mountain with his face shining as a result. God was a real, physical presence that needed a home. This was good to have a physical closeness to God- but over time our understanding of God has expanded. We now know better than to look for God contained in a box somewhere. We understand God to be omnipresent- everywhere and anywhere. There are times of confusion when I desperately wish I could go to a physical location, knock on the door and have God answer and talk with me. Maybe this transfiguration moment caused Peter, James and John to need to somehow contain the experience. Build a place for it to live. But as soon as they talk about building things, the lights go out on the prophets and center on Jesus. Then God speaks again like the moment of Jesus’ baptism- This is my son! I am pleased with him! It’s almost like God is saying- hey- this is the guy you need to pay the most attention to! He’s even more important than your favorite ancestors! And he cannot be contained or made to dwell in one place. This is so much bigger than you realize! Of course like anyone else would- as soon as the voice of God and a giant gleaming cloud takes over- you get a little scared. All three disciples fall to the ground, speechless, numb with fear and confusion. Jesus bends down and touches them and says- don’t be afraid.
Then he tells them to wait, don’t mention this.
The three disciples are stuck with this vision they don’t fully comprehend. Jesus gives them the space to let it marinate. Think about it. Wait for other things to happen before you think you have the full picture.
Wouldn’t this wisdom of waiting be so helpful in our own lives? This concept of wait and see, think before you speak, look before you leap, let it soak a while, give it time... this concept can help us in so many ways, both practically and spiritually. In the church life we will start lent this week staring at our ashes.... but in a way- how could we appreciate life everlasting if we didn’t recognize the reality of death? How can our joy over spring be best understood but through the lens of a long, hard winter?
In our day to day life the command to be silent and wait can save us a lot of trouble. When we hear something about someone that confuses us- rather than ask the next 20 people we see if they think it is true or not- should we not wait and see what the truth is? Seek it out from the person? Or even more brave- decide that we may not know all there is to know and that it does not benefit us to speculate at the expense of someone else’s reputation? Wait before you assume someone is not who you thought they were. Wait before you assume someone is angry with you or does not like you. You may be surprised what the deeper story is. Mother Theresa said wisely: “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”
Maybe you have had an experience with God- a mountaintop experience- something that meant one thing at the time it happened and continues to unfold as you think about it and gain some distance from it. One of my favorite poets is the Lebanese poet Kahlil Gibran. Nestled in one of his poems is this nugget of truth, he says: “The mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.” Distance from these mountaintop experiences- be they joy and laughter with family or a very shiny experience with Jesus- does not make the experience dull, null and void. Sometimes like Kahlil Gibran said- we see things clearer from a distance that we might not have appreciated in the moment.
Scripture is like this, isn’t it? When we hear a verse in one season of our lives it means very poignantly one thing, and then in another season we see the words in a completely different light, or with greater understanding. I asked Jason to help me come up with an example to illustrate this- and he said with a chuckle- how about the scripture we had read at our wedding? When we were married, the scripture from 1 Corinthians chapter 13 was read. This scripture speaks of the attributes of love: love is patient, kind, not irritable, etc. At the wedding ceremony these attributes are often nice, sweet reminders of what love is to be like. We celebrated our 5 year anniversary in January and now there is some meat on the bones of this scripture when we mention patience! Ha. But when I read that love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things... I understand that I am just at the beginning of understanding the miraculous truth in that. I can read those words now and be even more thankful, even more in awe of this gift of love that I have. There is value to the time that separates us from the first experience and reading. There is value to that space we are given for ideas and emotions to grow in our minds. To revisit old truths to see how much more true they are today.
Whether we like it or not, a lot of things take time. Big, important things take a lot of time. The disciples in this story were given the space and even command to take time to process who this person Jesus really was. Some of the most drastic changes in our lives have a built in time frame. The things that happen suddenly or out of time are often the most disturbing and unsettling. Right now I am very familiar with the 9 month process of pregnancy. I have had friends and relatives who just can’t wait for the baby to come, to be here, to see their face. I don’t hesitate to admit that I need the 9 months. I’ll take a few extra days, even. It is something so drastic and so life-altering- I need all 40 weeks to really process what it means to add a human child to my life, my family, the world. I recently received my March of Dimes packet of fundraising letters. March of Dimes funds research to prevent babies from being born too early, or in the case of those who are premature- research for medicine and practices to save their lives. This organization also provides support for the families of these babies. There is a certain physical trauma that happens for babies that are born prematurely- and that looks different in every situation. With that there are emotional traumas that happen to their families. A very close friend of mine was pregnant at the same time I was with Hunter. We were due 4 days apart. Her child was born on June 21st. My son was born September 16th. Her child is the tiniest surviving baby in Tennessee and the 16th tiniest surviving baby in the world. This child is a miracle. There is definite joy in her life. However, my friend Nancy still mourns those measly three months. She mourns all that comes with that time of missed preparation. She wishes she could have complained about weight gain and sore bones and uncomfortable sleeping. Instead she was faced with the reality of a fragile, born-too-soon daughter whose life was on the line indefinitely. We need time for all things. Time is something we need in grief and in joy. Perspective is something we need in chaos and in calm.
In this story of Jesus’ transfiguration, I believe that God is calling us today to take time. Wait. Process. Take this Lenten season and wrestle through the weary winter that refuses to step aside completely. Wait for spring. Prepare for Easter. Look at your life through the lens of time. Allow those things that give you joy and sorrow to have the gift of time and silence. Glance at God not from the mountain top experience only- when everything is shiny, confusing and new, but also from the valley. Allow the distant view to be a view that you value. Give yourself permission to pause. Hear Jesus’ command to wait. Be still. Don’t speak. Then one day the spring sun will rise with no more winter. Then one day Easter will come with its hallelujahs and resurrected assurance. Then one day you will be back on the mountaintop seeing shiny Jesus- and on that day you will understand all the more because you waited, you listened.... and God gave you time. Amen.
Sermon- March 6th
Matthew 17:1-9
The Transfiguration
17Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. 2And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. 3Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. 4Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I* will make three dwellings* here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ 5While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved;* with him I am well pleased; listen to him!’ 6When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. 7But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Get up and do not be afraid.’ 8And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.
9 As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, ‘Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’
You know- my family has this expression when we encounter experiences that are different- if something is funny we’ll say “that’s some kind of funny.” The prefix “that’s some kind of..” works for a lot of things. After reading this scripture- I find myself saying: This transfiguration story is some kind of weird. When reading scripture, I try to put myself somewhere in the audience, become a disciple, a samaritan, the woman at the well, and if I’m really daring- I put myself in Jesus’ shoes. This story I tried a few angles. The easiest one is to become the disciples- experience this mountain top transfiguration light up. Imagine you are one of the 3 disciples who saw this happen. What would your reaction be? All I can think of is- what just happened? And the poor disciples get the gag order from Jesus- don’t say anything until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead. Well- if we’re honest with ourselves as disciples in this story- even the gag order is confusing. What is Jesus doing? Who is he talking about when he says Son of Man? Why did he just light up and bring our favorite pop artists of prophecy and ancestry to chat on a mountain? WHAT JUST HAPPENED?
But don’t talk about it. Sit with it. Let it stew in your mind until the time is right, which hopefully will be obvious even though it isn’t right now.
Jesus is really cool and shiny- but if I got the gag order after this amazing and confusing experience, I think I would be a little put-off. How am I supposed to take this experience if I don’t talk to my Mom, sister, friend and dog about it? Can I at least have a little small group discussion with my fellow witnesses on the way down the mountain? How do I process this event if I don’t unpack it, write about it and maybe come up with some lyrics for a song?
Don’t mention it until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead. Wait.
In our church experience- we are about to enter into the season of lent. This is a very meaningful time in the rituals of our church life. We get faced with death- we recognize our ashes on Ash Wednesday and strive with the growing light of day for all things shiny and new. We want spring, we want Jesus alive and well, we want shiny happy people all around. We ache for spring at this point. I personally have a love/hate relationship with lent. To me- it can sometimes be a little overkill. Just when I want to fly up to the sun and lasso it closer to the earth- we get toyed around with crazy weather patterns 20 degree nights followed by 60 degree days followed by a monsoon followed by a potential late in the season snow storm. Gardening folks do the back and forth dance guessing at what point they can plant their crop without threat of another frost. And it always seems that Mother Earth has one last frost in her pocket just when you think you’re in the clear. Winter is a lingering house guest you want to kick out. Then we have our church ritualizing our despair. The church forces us to look at the dead leaves on the ground, the lack of green and the barrenness around us. We smudge ashes on our foreheads or hands and get told not to say hallelujah until the time is right. But this is time when we yearn the most for hallelujah and green! We get a little lucky on years like this when lent falls later in the year and we cheat by looking at the coming buds on our trees. But usually we just stare at darkness and barrenness and the church trains our eyes to keep us focused on that.
Don’t even say hallelujah until the Son of Man Rises from the Dead on Easter Sunday.
Why do we do this as a church? Why do we give ourselves the gag order during lent- sort of wallowing in the ashes until Easter comes? Why does Jesus give these poor disciples an amazingly confusing mountaintop experience, only to tell them- don’t be afraid and wait, shhh?
Maybe there is credit to Jesus’ command to be silent and wait. Maybe there is some wisdom in letting something percolate inside your brain before you talk, write, dance, sing and shout about it. Maybe we miss something in the verbiage that we can only notice in the silence. I don’t know a huge amount about other cultures, but I get the sense that Americans are increasingly awful at waiting and being silent. In my chaplain internship, a woman, Linda, spoke of her experience traveling to other countries and living in Thailand for a couple of years. She said one day she was conversing with a woman from Japan and suddenly was struck by the fact that she had been asking all the questions. Linda fell silent and then asked one more question to her new friend- she asked- why haven’t you asked me any questions? The woman replied: In my culture it is considered rude to ask a lot of questions. Oops. Linda felt silly at first and then reflected on how strange the contrasts of our cultures are. Americans feel it is rude or poor manners if you do not inquire into the lives of others.
I’m not proposing that we stop asking questions of each other or especially of life. Lord knows I’m the queen of questions. I am wondering if we might balance our cultural tendency to ask, speak, label and pick things apart with moments of silence and waiting. Maybe this is why I have a love/hate relationship with lent. It forces us to actively and with awareness, wait. Wait for Easter, wait for Spring, wait for the glory of God revealed. It forces us to reflect in that time of waiting.
Maybe this experience on the mountain was one that Jesus wanted his disciples to think about before they started talking. It was obvious even during the transfiguration event that the disciples were confused and misled on what to do. They automatically went to the mode of- let’s build a dwelling - one for each of you- Moses, Jesus and Elijah. This is an echo of the ancient Hebrew way of understanding God. God was a being that lived in the sacred places that God instructed the Hebrew people to make. God dwelt amongst the Israelites in the tabernacle. God was in the clouds on mount Sinai and Moses only saw God pass and came down the mountain with his face shining as a result. God was a real, physical presence that needed a home. This was good to have a physical closeness to God- but over time our understanding of God has expanded. We now know better than to look for God contained in a box somewhere. We understand God to be omnipresent- everywhere and anywhere. There are times of confusion when I desperately wish I could go to a physical location, knock on the door and have God answer and talk with me. Maybe this transfiguration moment caused Peter, James and John to need to somehow contain the experience. Build a place for it to live. But as soon as they talk about building things, the lights go out on the prophets and center on Jesus. Then God speaks again like the moment of Jesus’ baptism- This is my son! I am pleased with him! It’s almost like God is saying- hey- this is the guy you need to pay the most attention to! He’s even more important than your favorite ancestors! And he cannot be contained or made to dwell in one place. This is so much bigger than you realize! Of course like anyone else would- as soon as the voice of God and a giant gleaming cloud takes over- you get a little scared. All three disciples fall to the ground, speechless, numb with fear and confusion. Jesus bends down and touches them and says- don’t be afraid.
Then he tells them to wait, don’t mention this.
The three disciples are stuck with this vision they don’t fully comprehend. Jesus gives them the space to let it marinate. Think about it. Wait for other things to happen before you think you have the full picture.
Wouldn’t this wisdom of waiting be so helpful in our own lives? This concept of wait and see, think before you speak, look before you leap, let it soak a while, give it time... this concept can help us in so many ways, both practically and spiritually. In the church life we will start lent this week staring at our ashes.... but in a way- how could we appreciate life everlasting if we didn’t recognize the reality of death? How can our joy over spring be best understood but through the lens of a long, hard winter?
In our day to day life the command to be silent and wait can save us a lot of trouble. When we hear something about someone that confuses us- rather than ask the next 20 people we see if they think it is true or not- should we not wait and see what the truth is? Seek it out from the person? Or even more brave- decide that we may not know all there is to know and that it does not benefit us to speculate at the expense of someone else’s reputation? Wait before you assume someone is not who you thought they were. Wait before you assume someone is angry with you or does not like you. You may be surprised what the deeper story is. Mother Theresa said wisely: “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”
Maybe you have had an experience with God- a mountaintop experience- something that meant one thing at the time it happened and continues to unfold as you think about it and gain some distance from it. One of my favorite poets is the Lebanese poet Kahlil Gibran. Nestled in one of his poems is this nugget of truth, he says: “The mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.” Distance from these mountaintop experiences- be they joy and laughter with family or a very shiny experience with Jesus- does not make the experience dull, null and void. Sometimes like Kahlil Gibran said- we see things clearer from a distance that we might not have appreciated in the moment.
Scripture is like this, isn’t it? When we hear a verse in one season of our lives it means very poignantly one thing, and then in another season we see the words in a completely different light, or with greater understanding. I asked Jason to help me come up with an example to illustrate this- and he said with a chuckle- how about the scripture we had read at our wedding? When we were married, the scripture from 1 Corinthians chapter 13 was read. This scripture speaks of the attributes of love: love is patient, kind, not irritable, etc. At the wedding ceremony these attributes are often nice, sweet reminders of what love is to be like. We celebrated our 5 year anniversary in January and now there is some meat on the bones of this scripture when we mention patience! Ha. But when I read that love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things... I understand that I am just at the beginning of understanding the miraculous truth in that. I can read those words now and be even more thankful, even more in awe of this gift of love that I have. There is value to the time that separates us from the first experience and reading. There is value to that space we are given for ideas and emotions to grow in our minds. To revisit old truths to see how much more true they are today.
Whether we like it or not, a lot of things take time. Big, important things take a lot of time. The disciples in this story were given the space and even command to take time to process who this person Jesus really was. Some of the most drastic changes in our lives have a built in time frame. The things that happen suddenly or out of time are often the most disturbing and unsettling. Right now I am very familiar with the 9 month process of pregnancy. I have had friends and relatives who just can’t wait for the baby to come, to be here, to see their face. I don’t hesitate to admit that I need the 9 months. I’ll take a few extra days, even. It is something so drastic and so life-altering- I need all 40 weeks to really process what it means to add a human child to my life, my family, the world. I recently received my March of Dimes packet of fundraising letters. March of Dimes funds research to prevent babies from being born too early, or in the case of those who are premature- research for medicine and practices to save their lives. This organization also provides support for the families of these babies. There is a certain physical trauma that happens for babies that are born prematurely- and that looks different in every situation. With that there are emotional traumas that happen to their families. A very close friend of mine was pregnant at the same time I was with Hunter. We were due 4 days apart. Her child was born on June 21st. My son was born September 16th. Her child is the tiniest surviving baby in Tennessee and the 16th tiniest surviving baby in the world. This child is a miracle. There is definite joy in her life. However, my friend Nancy still mourns those measly three months. She mourns all that comes with that time of missed preparation. She wishes she could have complained about weight gain and sore bones and uncomfortable sleeping. Instead she was faced with the reality of a fragile, born-too-soon daughter whose life was on the line indefinitely. We need time for all things. Time is something we need in grief and in joy. Perspective is something we need in chaos and in calm.
In this story of Jesus’ transfiguration, I believe that God is calling us today to take time. Wait. Process. Take this Lenten season and wrestle through the weary winter that refuses to step aside completely. Wait for spring. Prepare for Easter. Look at your life through the lens of time. Allow those things that give you joy and sorrow to have the gift of time and silence. Glance at God not from the mountain top experience only- when everything is shiny, confusing and new, but also from the valley. Allow the distant view to be a view that you value. Give yourself permission to pause. Hear Jesus’ command to wait. Be still. Don’t speak. Then one day the spring sun will rise with no more winter. Then one day Easter will come with its hallelujahs and resurrected assurance. Then one day you will be back on the mountaintop seeing shiny Jesus- and on that day you will understand all the more because you waited, you listened.... and God gave you time. Amen.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
I'm still alive... if anyone noticed
Yea. So I jumped really far off the blog wagon. No apologies- life happened and I had to deal with it rather than the blog. Good good things. Time is now measured and sifted. The positive things that are happening: good pregnancy, healthy eating (still doing the vegan thing), CPE in session (chaplain internship) and 5 years of marriage under my belt. All very good things. The unsteadying things: time is no longer mine, sleep is inconsistent, money is tight, and I get to feeling a little overwhelmed at times.
why am I writing now? Sort of forcing myself to put on paper (screen) what is bothering me/blessing me. Gain a little perspective in the writing... show the occasional blog visitor that I did not disappear.
I am struggling to prioritize my emotions, my needs, my wants, my time, my energy, my things to do list and my motivations right now. Sleep and dull glassy eyes tend to take over.
I am attempting to do 20-30 hours a week of pastoral care to satisfy my CPE hours required. The tricky part is that I have an indeterminate amount of time before and after the baby is born - yea- I'm having a baby in the middle of my CPE unit. Because I'm crazy. The unit was shortened by a month three days prior to the unit beginning- which squished my carefully plotted schedule to a pen scratched mess on my calendar. I'm in the "every second counts" mentality while also trying to take care of myself and be present as a minister to those I am with in ministry...as the clock is ticking. I also am faced with "learning" by reading, writing, logging time and experiences- all of these things take time- extra time.
I feel a sense of responsibility to multiple parties. I feel responsible for my family's financial health- not only because I'm the one who checks the bank statements and makes sure the bills get paid, but also because I'm the one who makes it a point to check and care. My husband is no over-spender or impulse buyer (well- sometimes I might say he is- but on a level far lower than the general overspending population)... but I often wonder if he really understands just how much money we don't have. He keeps wanting to have a budget or talk about it or whatever- but we keep not having the time or space for such discussions. So in the meantime- I tell him what I know, and he has access to all the same information. I am just the only one keeping tabs on it. I both take on the responsibility willingly and get it placed on me by non-action. It's no one's fault, just a system that we haven't gotten quite straight yet.
So the finances are the foundation for unsteadiness. When you can't spring for take-out or babysitters or massages in times of stress- it makes stress that much more annoyingly present. Or harder to avoid/reduce. Making dinner is a big deal. I can't just order pizza every night. That's the other responsibility. I make meal plans, I do the groceries and I make the meals. Jason offers to help- but when the rubber hits the road, with his night meetings and the extra prep it takes to make a vegan meal- Jason just can't help as much as he desires to. He also doesn't have the ever present reality of our finances facing him head on- so when the road gets tough- he calls for take out. I fall into this trap a handful of times because I'm pregnant, tired, and hungry. This ultimately makes me feel guilty about falling into it, not making the dinner, and worried about finances.
grr.
Then there is this whole mess about a baby. That's a huge responsibility that I haven't even come to terms with! There is something I've learned about baby #2 (and I'm guessing it continues if you have more)..... nobody really gives a shit. I'm serious! They are happy you're having a baby. They support you with kind cards (if you're lucky) and maybe a weekend babysitter to get the room ready. But there's no baby shower- because supposedly you have everything you need (luckily we have most of what we need bc baby #2 happens to be a boy). There's no restaurant gift card or check or gift card to Target. Don't misunderstand- we were SPOILED with the arrival of Hunter- and we still have a few odd dollars on some of those gift cards to spend. The fact I'm pointing out is the absolute contrast. And if there was ever a time we could use a gift card or a check- it's now when we need to pay for 2 kids instead of one! So yea- I'm feeling the financial strain of preparing for the second child, and even more so- the time constraint. The nursery is "done" but needs a good solid spring cleaning (oh and moving out of all of Hunter's things and moving in of cleaned and found baby items long stored in the attic).... and we need to prepare Hunter's room (and buy stuff for it)... and then have him sleep in it without a problem. That is not going to be easy. We are transitioning a 2.5 year old to a new room, to make room for a new PERSON in his life, only to see if maybe he wouldn't mind sleeping in a big boy bed and maybe even potty training in the process. The poor kid. In the meantime- I'm pregnant. This means I don't move fast, I can't sleep that amazingly and I can't skip meals or ignore my body when it's tired. And I'm a mother. Which means I have a 2.5 year old who still very much needs me and daddy- and depends on us- and does not understand the terms "busy" or "stressed." He barely can wrap his head around the fact that he can't sit straight on my lap.
Let's talk about the baby book- not started. The wedding album- pictures not printed. The old letters found in Grandmother's office- not copied and organized. Let's talk about the laundry room- junk to be pitched and/or sold. The taxes- not filed. The house- hazardously dirty. It's one thing to say to someone- oh let these things go- in the end what matters is XYZ, not the clean house and a home cooked meal. That's all fine and good- but someday somebody needs to clean the damn house and make dinner- in fact- if you aren't rich- this should happen fairly regularly. I'm not talking spotless- that waved goodbye to me a loong time ago. I'm talking livable. SO yea- it has to be done.
Let's talk about my career. I'm in the middle of discerning what I want to do with the rest of my life. I finally feel like I'm getting a handle on it- but it seems like the worse timing ever. I'm happier since I've started the path towards chaplaincy- but the doubt and fear keep trickling in. Do I really want to work full time in a residency when I have a 4 month old? This is the glaring question for me right now- and there are a hundred voices answering it. My feminist says- damn right I do- it's the best opportunity in a location that would help me grow and be in the field I want to be in. The mother in me (my own mothering voice and an echo of my mother's voice) says- how can I bear to miss all this time with my infant child? Do I really want to pump breastmilk at work every 3 hours? How will I have the energy to put towards a career and a new child (much less 2 kids)- who will never be able to promise me a full night's rest? The minister in me that keeps being put on hold says- when will I do it if not now? Can I trust myself to continue on the path towards God's call? What does God want me to do? When does God want me to do? The fearful part of me asks- will I fall into depression with no purpose or fall into chaos with no rest? How will I manage the different roles and needs and wants? Will I fail?
Then there is just me- wanting a garden. Wanting a family vacation. Wanting a purpose and call. Wanting time with my baby and time away. Wanting it all and wondering if it was or will ever be possible to find balance. This is a struggle I believe many women face and try to answer in different ways- do any of us "succeed?"
why am I writing now? Sort of forcing myself to put on paper (screen) what is bothering me/blessing me. Gain a little perspective in the writing... show the occasional blog visitor that I did not disappear.
I am struggling to prioritize my emotions, my needs, my wants, my time, my energy, my things to do list and my motivations right now. Sleep and dull glassy eyes tend to take over.
I am attempting to do 20-30 hours a week of pastoral care to satisfy my CPE hours required. The tricky part is that I have an indeterminate amount of time before and after the baby is born - yea- I'm having a baby in the middle of my CPE unit. Because I'm crazy. The unit was shortened by a month three days prior to the unit beginning- which squished my carefully plotted schedule to a pen scratched mess on my calendar. I'm in the "every second counts" mentality while also trying to take care of myself and be present as a minister to those I am with in ministry...as the clock is ticking. I also am faced with "learning" by reading, writing, logging time and experiences- all of these things take time- extra time.
I feel a sense of responsibility to multiple parties. I feel responsible for my family's financial health- not only because I'm the one who checks the bank statements and makes sure the bills get paid, but also because I'm the one who makes it a point to check and care. My husband is no over-spender or impulse buyer (well- sometimes I might say he is- but on a level far lower than the general overspending population)... but I often wonder if he really understands just how much money we don't have. He keeps wanting to have a budget or talk about it or whatever- but we keep not having the time or space for such discussions. So in the meantime- I tell him what I know, and he has access to all the same information. I am just the only one keeping tabs on it. I both take on the responsibility willingly and get it placed on me by non-action. It's no one's fault, just a system that we haven't gotten quite straight yet.
So the finances are the foundation for unsteadiness. When you can't spring for take-out or babysitters or massages in times of stress- it makes stress that much more annoyingly present. Or harder to avoid/reduce. Making dinner is a big deal. I can't just order pizza every night. That's the other responsibility. I make meal plans, I do the groceries and I make the meals. Jason offers to help- but when the rubber hits the road, with his night meetings and the extra prep it takes to make a vegan meal- Jason just can't help as much as he desires to. He also doesn't have the ever present reality of our finances facing him head on- so when the road gets tough- he calls for take out. I fall into this trap a handful of times because I'm pregnant, tired, and hungry. This ultimately makes me feel guilty about falling into it, not making the dinner, and worried about finances.
grr.
Then there is this whole mess about a baby. That's a huge responsibility that I haven't even come to terms with! There is something I've learned about baby #2 (and I'm guessing it continues if you have more)..... nobody really gives a shit. I'm serious! They are happy you're having a baby. They support you with kind cards (if you're lucky) and maybe a weekend babysitter to get the room ready. But there's no baby shower- because supposedly you have everything you need (luckily we have most of what we need bc baby #2 happens to be a boy). There's no restaurant gift card or check or gift card to Target. Don't misunderstand- we were SPOILED with the arrival of Hunter- and we still have a few odd dollars on some of those gift cards to spend. The fact I'm pointing out is the absolute contrast. And if there was ever a time we could use a gift card or a check- it's now when we need to pay for 2 kids instead of one! So yea- I'm feeling the financial strain of preparing for the second child, and even more so- the time constraint. The nursery is "done" but needs a good solid spring cleaning (oh and moving out of all of Hunter's things and moving in of cleaned and found baby items long stored in the attic).... and we need to prepare Hunter's room (and buy stuff for it)... and then have him sleep in it without a problem. That is not going to be easy. We are transitioning a 2.5 year old to a new room, to make room for a new PERSON in his life, only to see if maybe he wouldn't mind sleeping in a big boy bed and maybe even potty training in the process. The poor kid. In the meantime- I'm pregnant. This means I don't move fast, I can't sleep that amazingly and I can't skip meals or ignore my body when it's tired. And I'm a mother. Which means I have a 2.5 year old who still very much needs me and daddy- and depends on us- and does not understand the terms "busy" or "stressed." He barely can wrap his head around the fact that he can't sit straight on my lap.
Let's talk about the baby book- not started. The wedding album- pictures not printed. The old letters found in Grandmother's office- not copied and organized. Let's talk about the laundry room- junk to be pitched and/or sold. The taxes- not filed. The house- hazardously dirty. It's one thing to say to someone- oh let these things go- in the end what matters is XYZ, not the clean house and a home cooked meal. That's all fine and good- but someday somebody needs to clean the damn house and make dinner- in fact- if you aren't rich- this should happen fairly regularly. I'm not talking spotless- that waved goodbye to me a loong time ago. I'm talking livable. SO yea- it has to be done.
Let's talk about my career. I'm in the middle of discerning what I want to do with the rest of my life. I finally feel like I'm getting a handle on it- but it seems like the worse timing ever. I'm happier since I've started the path towards chaplaincy- but the doubt and fear keep trickling in. Do I really want to work full time in a residency when I have a 4 month old? This is the glaring question for me right now- and there are a hundred voices answering it. My feminist says- damn right I do- it's the best opportunity in a location that would help me grow and be in the field I want to be in. The mother in me (my own mothering voice and an echo of my mother's voice) says- how can I bear to miss all this time with my infant child? Do I really want to pump breastmilk at work every 3 hours? How will I have the energy to put towards a career and a new child (much less 2 kids)- who will never be able to promise me a full night's rest? The minister in me that keeps being put on hold says- when will I do it if not now? Can I trust myself to continue on the path towards God's call? What does God want me to do? When does God want me to do? The fearful part of me asks- will I fall into depression with no purpose or fall into chaos with no rest? How will I manage the different roles and needs and wants? Will I fail?
Then there is just me- wanting a garden. Wanting a family vacation. Wanting a purpose and call. Wanting time with my baby and time away. Wanting it all and wondering if it was or will ever be possible to find balance. This is a struggle I believe many women face and try to answer in different ways- do any of us "succeed?"
Monday, November 29, 2010
Hurry up and wait
I'm nearly positive I've posted about this concept before- but if not- it's about time.
Time is weird. Time is perception. My sister's due date is today. I don't feel a heavy sense of expectation because in my mind- she'll be at least a week late. I lack the social and physical pressures following my sister's every move. I remember it though- you go into a public place and people tell you it should be any minute because you look like you're going to "pop"- something someone's mother forgot to mention is the most idiotic thing to say to a pregnant woman (that and asking if they're sure they aren't having twins- yes they are sure and thanks for calling them fat). My sister is reminded with every step she takes that there is a baby resting on her pelvis- so she feels a very heavy sense of expectation.
I am locked in never-land with no job, no current leads, no plans to do anything about it until the baby is born and I'm able to do something. That could be as much as a year. For others who have careers or have been through this in a distant past- this seems inconsequential- of no annoyance. I maintain that perspective occassionally- but every now and then I have a panicked state of "I'm never going to find a calling" that sends me into a remission of self-doubt and never-land feeling.
Often we find ourselves hurrying up to wait. We don't manage the success of hurrying up and going- or the patience of waiting and then going without the urgency.
I just realized this is all very advent-y. The whole concept of advent (the season before Christmas in the Christian calendar)- is that we hurry up and wait. These four weeks we have set aside to practice waiting. We are waiting for the coming of Christ- which happens *hopefully* anew each year. What we (I) often neglect to remember is that this whole advent season is just a charade of the real thing. The real wait was on for thousands of years- Jesus came as a baby and still confounded all. The wait continues for all of humanity as our souls anxiously pray for the kingdom to come. So - we have arrived, and we are not yet there. We have hurried and we have sluggishly strolled. We have received and rejected. The climax has come and gone and many of us wanted to feel the chill in our bones, but instead felt a whiplash in our ideas.
I'm still waiting... and watching... and hoping.
Time is weird. Time is perception. My sister's due date is today. I don't feel a heavy sense of expectation because in my mind- she'll be at least a week late. I lack the social and physical pressures following my sister's every move. I remember it though- you go into a public place and people tell you it should be any minute because you look like you're going to "pop"- something someone's mother forgot to mention is the most idiotic thing to say to a pregnant woman (that and asking if they're sure they aren't having twins- yes they are sure and thanks for calling them fat). My sister is reminded with every step she takes that there is a baby resting on her pelvis- so she feels a very heavy sense of expectation.
I am locked in never-land with no job, no current leads, no plans to do anything about it until the baby is born and I'm able to do something. That could be as much as a year. For others who have careers or have been through this in a distant past- this seems inconsequential- of no annoyance. I maintain that perspective occassionally- but every now and then I have a panicked state of "I'm never going to find a calling" that sends me into a remission of self-doubt and never-land feeling.
Often we find ourselves hurrying up to wait. We don't manage the success of hurrying up and going- or the patience of waiting and then going without the urgency.
I just realized this is all very advent-y. The whole concept of advent (the season before Christmas in the Christian calendar)- is that we hurry up and wait. These four weeks we have set aside to practice waiting. We are waiting for the coming of Christ- which happens *hopefully* anew each year. What we (I) often neglect to remember is that this whole advent season is just a charade of the real thing. The real wait was on for thousands of years- Jesus came as a baby and still confounded all. The wait continues for all of humanity as our souls anxiously pray for the kingdom to come. So - we have arrived, and we are not yet there. We have hurried and we have sluggishly strolled. We have received and rejected. The climax has come and gone and many of us wanted to feel the chill in our bones, but instead felt a whiplash in our ideas.
I'm still waiting... and watching... and hoping.
Advice Jar: Full
Everyone likes to give advice. I'll try to be positive by saying that everyone enjoys the feeling of helping another, or having that perfect solution that makes life easier for someone else.
I rarely experience advice in that form. Occassionally- someone will tell me something I hadn't thought of before, or it will hit me in a way the rings more true than when I told it to myself. But most of the time if you can imagine a large coin jar suspended above my head- I hear advice and shove it in the jar... as another penny that might help one day, but feels pretty useless today.
I would like to now officially declare my advice jar: Full. I have no more room and no ability to cash the coins in it. They're like european coins- no use to me here. I would like to try to be humble and accept the sage advice from others- but frankly- I'm tired of it. If you aren't convinced that what you have to say is earth-shattering, keep it. Extra advice wears on me like adding lead to the lining of your clothes. If it doesn't work for me- than either in your opinion I am insufficient, or in my opinion- I am alone in my problem. It is best if you hold my hand and ask me what I think is best. Or simply acknowledge that it is a tough spot.
Why do we all assume we know better than other people? I'm just as guilty of this as anyone else (hence my advice veto). But if I let the cynical side of me peek out for a minute- I think a large reason why many of us enjoy giving advice is the joy and conviction that we are right and can show others how right we are with our sound advice.
Maybe, just maybe we all need to learn to listen and ask better. My sister-in-law mentioned the other day that it was national listening day- as a part of the NPR's movement to get people to share and record their stories. I think the problem is not getting people to share the story, but getting people to listen. I was trying not to chuckle- because all I could think about was how I just wanted everyone in the world to listen- and not talk- for a full day. Listen to silence.
Listening could take on other forms too. We could listen to a person's body language or even facial cues that they are uncomfortable, unhappy, bored even- listen and respond! Don't always respond with words- respond with what is needed. Someone is bored - shut up, ask a question. That kind of thing.
Listen and respond. That feels better than advice any day.
I rarely experience advice in that form. Occassionally- someone will tell me something I hadn't thought of before, or it will hit me in a way the rings more true than when I told it to myself. But most of the time if you can imagine a large coin jar suspended above my head- I hear advice and shove it in the jar... as another penny that might help one day, but feels pretty useless today.
I would like to now officially declare my advice jar: Full. I have no more room and no ability to cash the coins in it. They're like european coins- no use to me here. I would like to try to be humble and accept the sage advice from others- but frankly- I'm tired of it. If you aren't convinced that what you have to say is earth-shattering, keep it. Extra advice wears on me like adding lead to the lining of your clothes. If it doesn't work for me- than either in your opinion I am insufficient, or in my opinion- I am alone in my problem. It is best if you hold my hand and ask me what I think is best. Or simply acknowledge that it is a tough spot.
Why do we all assume we know better than other people? I'm just as guilty of this as anyone else (hence my advice veto). But if I let the cynical side of me peek out for a minute- I think a large reason why many of us enjoy giving advice is the joy and conviction that we are right and can show others how right we are with our sound advice.
Maybe, just maybe we all need to learn to listen and ask better. My sister-in-law mentioned the other day that it was national listening day- as a part of the NPR's movement to get people to share and record their stories. I think the problem is not getting people to share the story, but getting people to listen. I was trying not to chuckle- because all I could think about was how I just wanted everyone in the world to listen- and not talk- for a full day. Listen to silence.
Listening could take on other forms too. We could listen to a person's body language or even facial cues that they are uncomfortable, unhappy, bored even- listen and respond! Don't always respond with words- respond with what is needed. Someone is bored - shut up, ask a question. That kind of thing.
Listen and respond. That feels better than advice any day.
Thanks-giving
My experience on Thanksgiving day was surprisingly of thanks-giving. I think sometimes the hoop and holler of holidays can mask what we originally wanted to celebrate. This is cliche to say - but still true. Think about it: on the day that we are to give thanks, we expect a feast and to be with family. If we do not bloat ourselves with carbs, watch the Macy's Day parade and drink wine with family- then all is lost and we have nothing. I didn't experience the blues this year (except the no wine part)- because I had everything I expected.
Thanks-giving is a time to rejoice in the plenty because the memory of scarcity and struggle is still very alive and real. It's a time where we actually shouldbe feasting with strangers and trying out new recipes- sharing what is sacred to us and honoring what is sacred to others.
This year - a strange bump in the Thanksgiving day parade actually gave me space to be thankful. My son, a two year old who doesn't like to miss out, was not keen on taking his afternoon nap. Some days this happens and we let it go- but this day I was not interested in having a cranky toddler at the turkey table. So I cut corners, bribed and begged- anything to get this kid to sleep. Ultimately the "trick" was for Jason and I to lie down in the bed (he usually sleeps in the crib) and go to sleep with him. Jason rubbed his tired belly and he drifted to sleep. Jason wasn't comfortable with all of us crammed on the bed and felt he should help with the meal preparations. I didn't want to leave Hunter alone on a big bed and wasn't all too shy about resting for a little bit. I assumed Hunter would only sleep an hour and figured I could hang out for it. Jason slipped out of bed and I stayed to rest and watch Hunter.
I fully expected to fall asleep- but I never could. I kept watching Hunter sleeping there- sweet- breathing heavy sleep-breaths. He would muss his own hair every now and then and move his arms or switch breathing patterns. At about an hour into the nap- he woke up and asked about Dada and Grammy- I told him they were downstairs and asked if he wanted to go. He said yes, and promptly snuggled up against me and fell back to sleep. For another hour. They started Thanksgiving without us- and I was fine with that. I rested and watched for 2 hours - my son sleeping. I thought about how healthy and happy he was. How sweet and funny he was. How cheeky and pushy he could be. I was thankful for all of it. I wasn't really worried about our food getting cold or missing the big turkey prayer. I was having my own prayer of most sincere thanksgiving right there.
Thanks-giving is a time to rejoice in the plenty because the memory of scarcity and struggle is still very alive and real. It's a time where we actually shouldbe feasting with strangers and trying out new recipes- sharing what is sacred to us and honoring what is sacred to others.
This year - a strange bump in the Thanksgiving day parade actually gave me space to be thankful. My son, a two year old who doesn't like to miss out, was not keen on taking his afternoon nap. Some days this happens and we let it go- but this day I was not interested in having a cranky toddler at the turkey table. So I cut corners, bribed and begged- anything to get this kid to sleep. Ultimately the "trick" was for Jason and I to lie down in the bed (he usually sleeps in the crib) and go to sleep with him. Jason rubbed his tired belly and he drifted to sleep. Jason wasn't comfortable with all of us crammed on the bed and felt he should help with the meal preparations. I didn't want to leave Hunter alone on a big bed and wasn't all too shy about resting for a little bit. I assumed Hunter would only sleep an hour and figured I could hang out for it. Jason slipped out of bed and I stayed to rest and watch Hunter.
I fully expected to fall asleep- but I never could. I kept watching Hunter sleeping there- sweet- breathing heavy sleep-breaths. He would muss his own hair every now and then and move his arms or switch breathing patterns. At about an hour into the nap- he woke up and asked about Dada and Grammy- I told him they were downstairs and asked if he wanted to go. He said yes, and promptly snuggled up against me and fell back to sleep. For another hour. They started Thanksgiving without us- and I was fine with that. I rested and watched for 2 hours - my son sleeping. I thought about how healthy and happy he was. How sweet and funny he was. How cheeky and pushy he could be. I was thankful for all of it. I wasn't really worried about our food getting cold or missing the big turkey prayer. I was having my own prayer of most sincere thanksgiving right there.
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