Happy Birthday!

What is it about birthdays that cause us to reminisce days gone by? My brother turned the big 5-0 a couple weeks ago. His wife planned a surprise “Mel’s Diner” party complete with A & W Root Beer, awesome burgers and chili dogs, and a DJ playing music from every decade my brother and I have lived through so far.  The invite said “No presents” with a large exclamation point after it.  I brought one anyway.  I wanted to give my brother something special, something meaningful.  After all, he had lived an entire half century and I hadn’t, well, not quite yet anyway.

I have this small 3” x 3” photo in a frame on a wall in my home.  It is a photo of my brother, my grandfather and grandmother, and myself.  We are probably 4 and 5 and we’re sitting on the couch snuggled next to our grandparents.  My brother is on the left, then grandpa, then grandma, then me on the right.  We are pretty dirty, even though my brother is in a white shirt and me in a dress.  My grandparents lived on a farm, after all.  As small as this photo is, it keeps a huge spot in my heart.  It has with it so many incredibly fun memories. I am the only one who has a copy of this photo so I took it in to see if it could be enlarged a bit, without distorting the image.  Unbelievably, they were able to take it all the way up to an 8’ x 10’ and it still looked great!  I placed it in a frame and wrapped it for my brother.  I included a card with these words inside, “Mel, you were my protector and my accomplice, my roommate and my confidante. I am so very thankful that God chose you to be my brother all these years.  I am blessed. Happy birthday! I love you.  Your sis, Melany.” 

He loved the photo and the card. He told me so several times throughout the night.  I saw him again this past Sunday at his granddaughter’s 5^th birthday party.  He said it again.  We watched my 3 year old grandson and my brother’s 3, 4, and 5 year old grandsons do incredibly brave and yet stupid things together.  They jumped in a little red wagon and rode it down a pretty steep hill with the tongue lying on the ground in front of it.  They rode down the same hill on little bicycles as fast as they possibly could without dumping it.  They laughed like crazy at each other and us old folks laughed right with them.  We could have stopped them, especially when we realized the wagon was filled with rocks, but we just didn’t have it in us.  The absurdity of what they were trying to pull off was too similar to some of the stunts we tried when we were younger.  It was kind of fun watching them be just as stupid. 

I turned a year older this week too.  There’s something about August birthdays in our family.  My grandpa always said the farmers came in from the fields in November.  It’s no wonder all the babies are born in August.  I suppose he was right.  Each year we celebrate another year aged.  Each year we realize another opportunity is lost.  Each year we realize another memory was created.  We celebrate because life is worth celebrating.  People die every day.  Loved ones go through really tough losses, despair, and pain on a regular basis.  Why not stop for a moment, look at the calendar, and say out loud “We made it another year.  It was sometimes hard, but it was good.  We could have gotten hurt worse than we did, but we didn’t.  And we laughed.  We laughed plenty.  Thank you Lord for brothers and sisters, for grandkids and friends.  Thank you for life and breath and wagons and bicycles.  Thank you for memories made and pains forgotten.”  Any of you having a birthday out there?  Happy Birthday, my friend… and yes, I’ll have another piece of cake.  

Simmerin' Soup

Blessings from the Michigan Area School for Pastoral Ministry.  If you’re a regular reader of my musings, you’ll know what that means, and if not, I can simply say I am away at school with 130 of my colleagues who are also pastors.  And what a morning it has been.  As I write we have just came out of our first morning sessions on the first day of school and have broken for lunch.  I could tell you about the motorcycle club that became the church to others in need, or reflect on some of the diverse images I have already seen on the large screens in front of me. 

Instead, I want to share soup with you.  Yes. Soup. Bishop Woodie White preached this morning during worship and he shared many illustrations, stories, and memories.  He was a young pastor in the Detroit area many, many years ago.  As a bishop in the United Methodist Church he’s a lifer.  Once called to be a bishop, always a bishop… even after retirement.  So Bishop White’s experiences are wide and deep.  He shared the story of a young seminarian in the south in the 60s who went to stand in solidarity with those who were being prevented from having a vote, even though they were Americans.  While standing in a crowd praying, he was shot by a police officer who was called to come “deal with the disturbance.”  It was not this young man’s fight, yet because it was his neighbor’s, he stood, and he died, in solidarity.  Bishop White also shared that this year was the first General Conference (worldwide meeting of UM churches) he had not attended since 1962.  I was born in 63.  I can only imagine all the issues he has seen the church deal with over those years. 

Yet I still come back to soup.  Bishop White shared that every Monday as a child his mother would make vegetable soup.  Only later in life did he realize why.  His mother cleaned the fridge each Monday and took all leftovers and created the soup.  He said there would be white potatoes and red tomatoes, yellow squash and even green okra.  His mother let it simmer together all day every Monday.  At dinner time everyone would join around the table and the pot of soup would be placed there in the middle of everyone… and the aroma would begin to waft by each of their noses.  Mom would then begin to ladle out scoop by scoop into their bowls. 

Bishop White, just a young boy then, would notice each time that the white potatoes were still white potatoes even though they had mingled with the other vegetables throughout the day.  And the red tomatoes would remain red tomatoes and the yellow squash would remain yellow squash, as well.  The okra, as Bishop told the story, sadly remained okra.  But something happened.  When he picked up his spoon and began to eat the soup, he would realize week in and week out that something had happened.  Something extraordinary had happened.  Although the potatoes remained potatoes and held all their integrity as potatoes, they were not the same potatoes for the tomatoes and the squash and even the okra had affected the potatoes… and made them even better.  And the tomatoes, though still tomatoes, were changed for the better as well.  And down the line this little boy would realize just how much being thrown in the same pot and spending time with each other throughout the day had made something spectacular happen.  He called it common ground.  A harmony of common ground had occurred; a ground where each could stand with integrity, but was transformed into something even more.  He admitted that even the okra had gotten better, yet of course, it was still okra. 

I hope you spend some time in a pot this week.  Simmer with those a little different than you.  I can’t wait to return home and inhale deeply.  The aroma will be stunning, I am sure.  

Out For Summer, But Not For Life

I am never too old to learn… and neither are you.  I just returned from a few weeks of Sabbath and then vacation, but am not headed back to work yet.  Instead, I leave on Monday for nearly a week of pastor’s school with over a hundred of my colleagues on the beautiful campus of Michigan State University.  There will be a workshop on how to use Facebook to minister to the unchurched and our own congregations.  There will be others on how to take better care of our bodies, how to manage conflict in our faith communities, and how to use drama as a spiritual discipline.  Bishop Woodie White will be sharing his insights on many of the intersections between race and religion, a conversation that is well needed in a polarized society of blacks and whites, rich and poor, “conservative Republicans” and “liberal Democrats”.  We live in a seemingly us and them society that isn’t much willing to even have a conversation anymore, not if it means we have to listen to someone else.  And Tom and Dee Yaccino will be teaching us all a thing or two about forming community. They have spent years in South America embedded in the lives of the people they have come to know.  They don’t wait for, or expect, these people to “show up” at the church.  Instead, they expect the church to show up in the lives of those who live in the communities around the church.  What a novel idea. 

I look forward to this school every year because I know I will be stretched, strained, and even worn to the bone by the time the school is over.  I will be expected to listen more than I speak, and talk with others about my reflections.  I will take pages and pages of notes and I will begin to make connections between what I will learn and how I will apply it back in my community, my church, and even my life at home.  And this is only one of three to four continuing education events I attend each  and every year as a Christ follower… in addition to ongoing reading and study.  This year one of the professors at Spring Arbor University, Dr. Richard Cornell, will be teaching a Sunday morning class at Concord United Methodist Church on the Book of Revelation.  I can’t wait!  I know I will learn a ton that I did not know before the class began.  We have another adult class that runs throughout the school year, as well.  It walks through a book of the bible, verse by verse, chapter by chapter, page by page.  It’s a great class for beginners who have rarely or never read scripture, or a great discipline for the person who has been reading the bible for years. 

On Sunday evenings, our youth have an opportunity to learn as well.  Free Methodists, Presbyterians, United Methodists, and even teens who don’t attend a church, all come together on Sunday evening to SECYM (Seek Him or Sunday Evening Community Youth Ministry).  They learn how to live with others who are different than themselves, how to serve others who are in greater need even than they are, and how to live like Jesus did when he was walking this earth.  It’s a daunting task. 

In just a few weeks, we’ll be kicking off our classes for kids as well.  Sunday mornings we have a couple of classes that teach kids how Jesus lived, and on Wednesday evenings we go a step further and claim how Jesus lived for ourselves.  Living like/for Jesus is a choice, you know.  It’s a choice when you are five and it’s a choice when you are fifteen.  And honestly, it’s a choice when you are fifty five or even seventy five.  As Christ followers, our learning never stops.  We can never really know all who God is, even with the example of Jesus… so we keep learning… we keep reading… we keep listening… and we keep growing.  Or we don’t.  What choice will you make as another summer comes to a close and a whole new plethora of opportunities fall into your lap?

Just Leave, Would You?!

Va-cate:  Leave (a place that one previously occupied); “rooms must be vacated by noon”. Give up (a position or employment).  Render void, to surrender possession or occupancy.  Synonyms: leave, quit, evacuate, empty, abandon, clear, void. 

Yes.  All of those.  I am on vacation right now and I left: my home, my community, my church, my responsibilities.  I gave up my position of employment: others are filling in, responsibilities have been shifted, the work will still be done, but not by me.  And I certainly have rendered myself void and surrendered possession of all kinds of garb that really had to go: baggage, hurts, guilt, exhaustion, excessive multitasking, and more.  Isn’t that what vacations are all about? 

It’s easy to get caught up in the “where are we going”, “how will we get there”, and “who will we see when we get there” stuff and miss the real point of a vacation.  Sure, we often go somewhere when we “leave” the place we typically occupy and we have to get there through some means of transportation, and often we do look forward to spending time with others we just don’t have time to when we are going full speed ahead.  But I have been on those vacations where I needed a vacation from the vacation when I got home from the first vacation!  I know you know what I’m talking about.  We pack so much into a mere three day weekend or week off that we are downright exhausted when we return home and are not sure we have anything left in us to return to our normal pace of work/family/responsibility. 

I’m not pointing fingers here… okay, I am pointing fingers, but I think the tourism industry and Chamber of Commerce are behind this lunacy.  And add to that the home improvement centers and hardware stores.  I mean, I say the word “vacation” and my hubby has a list started on the fridge of things he’d like me to get done before I return to my hectic I’ll-see-you-next-quarter lifestyle.  This week the list includes scrubbing walls so they can be prepped, prepping walls so they can be primed, priming walls so they can be painted, and then painting walls so they can be… well, painted!  Oh, that’s both upstairs and downstairs please.  The tools and supplies are all at here for you.  [big smile followed by big hug] … sigh… I need a vacation.  I know, I know, “You just got back from a week of Sabbath!” Right.  So I have to go back to work now??

I will admit though, the baggage falls off my back with each push of the scraper.  And all the hurts?  They begin to mend as I start applying the drywall mud.  And the guilt?  You know the “I wish I could do more to help more people and get more accomplished” guilt thing?  Not here. If the day whittles away with several walks out to the gardens or the kittens jump on my lap one more time to lick me clean or nibble on my shirt, there’s no guilt here.  I might get the painting done.  More than likely I won’t.  But I’ll get more done than I could if I wasn’t on vacation!  And the exhaustion?  Yes, that is gone too.  I notice myself walking slower, eating slower, and even thinking and talking slower. No exhaustion for this girl. And last but not least, that pesky old multitasking monger that rides my back like a freaked out monkey on steroids?  He’s on vacation too.  Been napping for a couple days now.  I think he was just as exhausted holding on as I was carrying him. 

Have you noticed the beautiful print on the wings of a butterfly and the elegance in their flapping?  Yah, me neither.  Not in a while anyway.  But I did today.  And will again tomorrow.  I hope you get a chance to vacate before summer is over.  Don’t worry. It doesn’t cost a thing… just your pride.  Your work, community, even your family, can live without you in the driver’s seat a few days… if you let them. 

Heal Me, Oh Lord!

Ever noticed how many people Jesus healed?  Bleeding disorders, skin diseases, inability to walk, and more.  A couple thousand years later and needs haven’t changed much.  I am always amazed on any given Sunday how many prayers have to do with physical health.  Prayers are lifted for people recovering from heart attacks, those in rehab for a new hip or knee replacement, or some form of cancer that is wreaking havoc on a loved one.  I wonder if instead of coming to Christ for a miracle after a disorder has arrived on our doorstep, if maybe we could come to Christ praying for wisdom to know how to better care for our bodies before they begin failing us? 

In a time of rising health care costs and a lack of understanding of how our new National Health Care system will work, not everyone is afforded the luxury of regular health care.  I know I went without coverage for almost 15 years as a single parent and then a business owner.  It was simply a luxury I could not afford to add to our ever growing list of needs: school supplies, new shoes for the kids, outrageous utility costs, and car repairs.  My body took the toll as I waited over 10 years to have surgery done on a knee injury and eventually had to have some new parts put in.  I know both my adult sons live without insurance, as well.  They have both worked hard since teenage years, but jobs offering health coverage are few and far between anymore.  So they pay as they go, always hoping the one big health tragedy will never occur. 

A few of us in the Concord area are trying our best to do our part in helping people like single parents and young families who can’t afford insurance.  We know health mattered to Jesus, so surely it matters to us.  We don’t have the ability to toss up a miracle healing or two, but we do have the ability to offer a FREE Mobile Health Fair.  Our Presbyterian friends across the parking lot were gracious enough to turn our community’s name in for a drop by visit this summer, and out of 30 sites chosen per year across the nation, we got one!  The Open Door Free Store jumped on board with our Parish Nurse Health Team leading the way.  Catholics and Presbyterians, United Methodists, health care professionals and local businesses are all joining hands, and skills, to offer this event to our neighbors. 

A van load of medical interns will pull into town the night before the Mobile Health Fair begins on Saturday, August 11.  From 9 am until 2 pm there will be a multitude of screenings offered at no cost to anyone who attends:  blood pressure, BMI, vision, basic hearing, oral screening, glucose testing, skin cancer, lice and skin scopes, depression testing, spirometry, lead screening, pharmacist consult just to name a few of the possibilities!  And did I mention all the health education stations that will be set up? … and I don’t mean boring-read-a-pamphlet stations.  I mean hands on, fascinating, fat-filled test tubes to help you decide which fast food sandwich to consume, to weight belts that can be added or taken off to see what it would really feel like to drop 10 pounds!  Stations will include dental care, nutrition and exercise, cancer, high blood pressure, hypertension, heart disease, family planning, STDs, maternal and child health, mental health and family life issues, substance abuse, children and safety, diabetes, asthma, COPD and more.  There will also be a craft station for the kiddos… and lunch will be served by the Concord Schools Summer Lunch Program from 11 – 1… and did I mention that everything is FREE?!? 

So start praying now, for wisdom on who you can stop and pick up on the way, for guidance as to which screenings you truly need in order to prevent scary health conditions down the road, and for all our health care professionals who are gracious enough to share their day with us.  And if we all do our part to get healthy, that truly would be a miracle, now wouldn’t it!

Deep Rest, Deep Renewal

As you read these words today, I am preparing to get away on Sabbath.  Sabbath is a biblical discipline that goes all the way back to creation. The Almighty and Everlasting God worked for six days creating the heavens and earth, the moon and stars, the animals, and humankind itself.  And then God rested.  We, as God’s creation, used to do the same.  As a child I remember being on the farm with my grandparents all summer long and Sundays were different.  We didn’t work around the house on Sunday.  Cows were milked but we didn’t hoe the fields or plant or even harvest on that day.  Great grandma, a Romanian Orthodox Christian, held fast to her Sabbath rules and did not even allow my grandmother to cook on Sundays.  Food was prepared on Saturday and simply warmed up and served on Sunday. 

Instead of working, we would just be together.  Aunts and uncles would come by, cousins would show up, and we would just be together.  No one shopped and no one had any sports practice, let alone games or tournaments.  It seemed the whole world, sacred and secular, abided by these rules whether spoken or unspoken.  Liquor was not sold on Sundays and most all businesses were closed. 

Then somewhere along the way, nearing my highschool years, I believe, it all changed.  A store would hang a banner announcing it would be open on Sundays and lo and behold, people came.  Great grandma had died and gone on to live in Sabbath forever with her Savior so it seemed to the rest of us, and the world I suppose, that Sabbath was no longer needed here on earth… at least in my community.  So we began cooking on Sunday and mom would ask us to clean our rooms.  The laundry had piled high so we would toss in a few loads “just to catch up.”  Garages needing reorganizing and floors needed mopped, so we did what we “needed” to in order to get life back in order before heading back to work on Monday.  And then the sports world showed up on our doorsteps… It seems six days a week wasn’t enough to entertain ourselves and performance in sports bled over into Sundays, as well.  Professional games filled the airwaves and local sports demanded we drive our kids to practice and now, even games and tournaments on Sundays. 

And somewhere along the way, we all stopped resting.  We moved from Sunday to Monday to Tuesday and right back through Saturday and Sunday again as we work ourselves into our graves and falsely believe rest comes in our overnight sleep or through our many varied personal entertainment sources.  We’re as tired on Monday mornings as we are on Friday evenings and we perpetuate exhaustion in our relationships, our professions, and our homes, in addition to our inner spirits and souls.  Our bodies can’t keep up so we take anti-anxiety and depression meds to fill the gaps.  Our children take them too.  I’m exhausted just thinking about it all. 

So now, today, here where I type, I am on Sabbath.  Every year I take a week to rest, to re-center, recharge and renew everything that I have exhausted the twelve months prior.  I do my best not to talk, and I fast from most foods.  I drink lots of liquids to wash out my inners and eat a few fruit when I can’t stand the hunger.  But mostly I just rest.  I rest my mind and I rest my body.  I sleep until I wake and I take naps when I feel led.  I talk with God a ton, because I actually have time to.  I read whatever beckons my attention and as an artist, I typically create during my Sabbath. I paint or bead or weave... Creating nourishes my inner being and brings joy into my rest.  No matter what I choose to do, I can tell you this: I don’t work.  I don’t cook or clean or do any chores. They can wait.  I figure if God, the Almighty Omnipotent God, needs rest, then surely do I.  

Footprints in the Sand... or the Scorching Pavement...

I often wonder if Jesus was here on earth today in the flesh, what would he spend his days doing?  My guess is, similar things as he did when he was last walking this earth.  He would be putting love, grace and mercy into action, while worshiping and loving his Father in heaven.  So would it be accurate to say, if we are followers of Jesus, then we would be doing the same?  Feeding the hungry?  Healing the sick?  Forgiving the sinner?  Clothing the naked? Housing the homeless? 

I mean, if Jesus’ footprints lead to the Open Door Free Store to drop off some of his own belongings (the best stuff, not the used- up- can’t- use- anymore- anyway stuff…) or to help wash, fold, or serve those who shop there, wouldn’t we be right there too?  And if his footsteps led to the basement of Concord United Methodist Church or to the cafeteria school to fill trays, cook pizza, or clean off the tables after the kids ate their free lunch this summer, wouldn’t it be fair to say you would also find an entire crowd of Jesus followers right there serving, feeding, and cleaning up, as well? 

I ask these questions facetiously because sometimes I think we need reminding of why we do what we do.  We had a crazy hard weekend working out at our farm getting some work done that is required by our loan originator in order to close on the deal: roof replaced, lead paint scraped and covered, etc.  And tons of friends and family came out to help (followed those footprints, I suspect… ) scrub, paint, and tear off old roofing.  All of this was done in 90 degree plus weather… every day.  Well, you all know what’s it’s been like lately in the ridiculously hot summer.  So by early this week, when our church and it’s Concord Service Project kicked into high gear to begin this summer’s outreach work on homes of those needing a little help from a friend, it was really easy to just sigh deep and think… “Ha! Your’e kidding me, right?!”  But there was no kidding involved.  This is serious stuff, following those ever- walking, ever- moving, ever- loving feet of Jesus in the world.  His get tired like the rest of us, and they do take a break to soak and rest.  But they don’t get lazy and they certainly don’t take time to be selfish.  Before you know it, those feet are leaving prints once again… right then left, right then left.  You can see that image across the sand, can’t you?  You know the one.  Where we think Jesus has abandoned us and we assume the prints are our own.  Then Jesus gently reminds us those prints are his… as he carries us in his arms? 

Now remember, we’re following those very steps.  So there are times we need to carry others when they can’t stand.  There are times we need to re-roof a neighbor’s home, even if we just re-roofed a friend’s or our very own the day before.  There are times we need to scrape and paint and repair and sometimes even install a handicap ramp for a neighbor who can’t get in and out of their own home with any ease.  The good news?  We can sleep rest assured that Jesus is not working alone… and honestly, we can SLEEP!  Well.  Exhaustion does that sometimes. 

So if you haven’t looked down lately to find where those footprints are going next, give us a call at the Open Door Free Store, or at Concord United Methodist Church, or even at the Presbyterian Church, the Catholic Church, Baptist or Bible Church… they’ve all been following those prints one step at a time.  We’d love to have you come along.  It makes the work load lighter when we share it with the entire community. One roof, one bag of clothes, one comforting hand to a senior whose health is failing… we’ll keep doing our best to follow the footsteps of the One who always shows up to love.  Exhausted or not.