"Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence." 2 Peter 3:15b-16 NRSV
Attorney to defendant: "Is it true that despite all outwardly appearances, despite illness and continuing ailments, you still have hope?"
Defendant: "Yes"
Attorney "How is it, that you can claim to have hope in the midst of all these diffficulties? Need I name them all?"
Defendant: "You need not name the difficulties. I am well aware of them. Nor do I simply claim to have hope. I do indeed have hope in the midst of all of this."
ATtorney: "The average person would not be able to withstand this all and keep hope."
This is not a real court case, obviously, but the language of the reading intrigued me very much. Since I am married to an Judge, one mention of making a 'defense' and the image of a courtroom naturally comes to mind.
As we look at this fictitious attorney's line of questioning, I see a flaw in the argument. First of all the people who read this blog are not average :-). You are extraordinary~
The other flaw in the argument is the supposition that withstanding difficulties is what keeps hope. I would argue that the attorney has it backward. It is the presence of hope that allows one to withstand the difficulties.
What is vital in this 'defense' is the reality that hope does not come because of the circumstances...that's not hope. Hope believes in spite of the circumstances. So where do we find our hope?
If I were to defend the hope that is within me, I would say that I have hope not because of anything I do or feel, but that I have hope because of who God is. The One who makes the sun rise every single morning is dependable, even if I'm not feeling hopeful. The One who raised the Son has a creativity and ability far beyond anything that I can envision...and that same God sees possibilities within you and me. I hope because God is God.
It reminds me of one of my favorite hymns "My Hope is built on nothing less". The lyrics follow:
My Hope Is Built on Nothing LessBy: Edward Mote
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteous;
No merit of my own I claim
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
On Christ, the solid rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
When darkness veils his lovely face,
I ret on his unchanging grace;
In every high and story gale
My anchor holds within the veil.
On Christ, the solid rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
His oath, his covenant, his blood
Sustain me in the raging flood;
When all supports are washed away,
He then is all my hope and stay.
On Christ, the solid rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
When he shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh, may I then in him be found,
Clothed in his righteousness alone,
Redeemed to stand before the throne!
On Christ, the solid rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
Hymn # 368 from Lutheran Worship
Author: John Stainer
Tune: Magdalen
1st Published in: 1836
Oh Lord, ground our hope in you, and not in the sinking sand of our emotions or our physical conditions. Stir in us a hope that moves us beyond this day to the possibilities of your future. Amen.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Remembered
"I thank my God every time I remember you" Philippians 1:3
One of the challenging parts I've found in this 'chronic illness territory' is the sense of being forgotten. As illness wears on for months and years, it is understandable to me that, while I continue to deal with the difficulties of illness every day, those around me don't really understand what it is like to wrestle with physical, mental and spiritual issues every single day. How could they? I didn't understand until I was in the middle of it, and even then, I try to deny what I'm facing just to keep going forward.
Knowing how very important it has been to have my struggle and challenges remembered by people I know and love, I want to take the opportunity today to lift up and remember people that I may not know personally, but for whom I own a huge debt of gratitude: our men and women of the military and their families. As my husband and I have people in both of our families who were killed in wartime, or who have departed this life, today is a poigniant day of remembering...the grandfather who was never met; the father whose presence is missed; and many more who have made sacrifices for God and country.
As I've had the great privilege to become friends with individuals who have and are serving our country, one thing has struck me over and over...the willingness to make sacrifices for the sake of others-- whether it is their own country, or a nation of people seeking freedom for whom they serve as trainers and supporters of their right to live freely. I am touched by the commitment to something greater than themselves, and the willingness to pledge, as the signers of the Declaration of Independence, "our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor."
Today I remember that the ability for me to write this blog and quote scripture and speak of God freely comes at a high price-- the lives and sacrifices of generations of people. Today I remember that our ability to choose whether to attend the Memorial Day Parade or to hit the malls and home improvement stores has come at the cost of many families. Today I remember that the ability to speak out for or against the governement of the United States has come at the cost of limbs, and souls and minds.
One of the amazing and humbling aspects of writing this blog is that I do not know who God will touch with these words. However, I want to take the opportunity today to thank every family who has made the sacrifice of their time and future in service of our country, I want to thank everyone who served and risked health of body and mind for others, and I want to thank God for all those who gave their lives. On behalf of a grateful nation, today I want to tell you that you are remembered. Your sacrifices are not forgotten, even if we don't have words to explain or express our gratitude. To all those who live with the after-effects of service, please know that we stand with you, and you will not be forgotten.
Dear Lord, help us remember and give thanks for the sacrifices our servicemen and service women and their families have made for this country. Today help us support and embrace those who may feel forgotten, and help us reach out and embrace them every day. Amen.
One of the challenging parts I've found in this 'chronic illness territory' is the sense of being forgotten. As illness wears on for months and years, it is understandable to me that, while I continue to deal with the difficulties of illness every day, those around me don't really understand what it is like to wrestle with physical, mental and spiritual issues every single day. How could they? I didn't understand until I was in the middle of it, and even then, I try to deny what I'm facing just to keep going forward.
Knowing how very important it has been to have my struggle and challenges remembered by people I know and love, I want to take the opportunity today to lift up and remember people that I may not know personally, but for whom I own a huge debt of gratitude: our men and women of the military and their families. As my husband and I have people in both of our families who were killed in wartime, or who have departed this life, today is a poigniant day of remembering...the grandfather who was never met; the father whose presence is missed; and many more who have made sacrifices for God and country.
As I've had the great privilege to become friends with individuals who have and are serving our country, one thing has struck me over and over...the willingness to make sacrifices for the sake of others-- whether it is their own country, or a nation of people seeking freedom for whom they serve as trainers and supporters of their right to live freely. I am touched by the commitment to something greater than themselves, and the willingness to pledge, as the signers of the Declaration of Independence, "our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor."
Today I remember that the ability for me to write this blog and quote scripture and speak of God freely comes at a high price-- the lives and sacrifices of generations of people. Today I remember that our ability to choose whether to attend the Memorial Day Parade or to hit the malls and home improvement stores has come at the cost of many families. Today I remember that the ability to speak out for or against the governement of the United States has come at the cost of limbs, and souls and minds.
One of the amazing and humbling aspects of writing this blog is that I do not know who God will touch with these words. However, I want to take the opportunity today to thank every family who has made the sacrifice of their time and future in service of our country, I want to thank everyone who served and risked health of body and mind for others, and I want to thank God for all those who gave their lives. On behalf of a grateful nation, today I want to tell you that you are remembered. Your sacrifices are not forgotten, even if we don't have words to explain or express our gratitude. To all those who live with the after-effects of service, please know that we stand with you, and you will not be forgotten.
Dear Lord, help us remember and give thanks for the sacrifices our servicemen and service women and their families have made for this country. Today help us support and embrace those who may feel forgotten, and help us reach out and embrace them every day. Amen.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Praise
But Lord, be merciful to us, for we have waited for you. Be our strong arm each day and our salvation in times of trouble.
~ Isaiah 33:2, NLT
A song of praise for a Sunday morning~ enjoy~
Andrea
~ Isaiah 33:2, NLT
A song of praise for a Sunday morning~ enjoy~
Andrea
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Heard
"Blessed be God,
because he has not rejected my prayer
or removed his steadfast love from me. " Psalm 66:20 NRSV
This verse is part of a larger Psalm that sings thanks to God for taking Israel out of Egypt and caring for them through many difficulties. Israel found strength when they remembered all that God had done. They also found more difficulties when they forgot how God had sustained them and rescued them.
I find myself really drawn to the history of Israel. Their experience echoes in my own life, as I realize how often I can forget God's steadfast love. As Rumi says "for sixty years I've been forgetful every minute". When days like today hit, when my head and body ache, when the path ahead is foggy and comples, when I'm weary and just plain tired of fighting the battle it is easy for me to forget. But God does not forget me...God does not forget his dear ones, whether it is Esrael, or you and me. We are not rejected or alone.
When I was about 13, I was feeling very much alone and awkward, as teens often are. I felt far away from any friends and rather lost. I didn't know God very well, but I instinctively knew that I needed God's help. I prayed and cried out to God to help me. Not long after, a new pastor who had come to our home congregation stopped by our house and he invited me to confirmation class (an intense three-year learning program in Christian faith). Gratefully, my parents agreed for me to start classes, and then committed to taking me to class and worship every week. God was faithful in answering my prayer, and over those years I learned of grace, met new, amazing friends and began to find my purpose in life.
Today's challenge is to remember at least one time in which God has led us through difficulties. Let us remember how God has saved us through Jesus, and how God has moved in our life and rescued us.
Look back...When did God lead you? When has God remembered you and God's grace embraced you?
Remembering those times gives us strength in these days when illness and difficulties surround us.
Remembering God's actions in the past reminds and encourages us to trust in God's care today.
Faithful God, you have heard the cries of your people throughout the ages. Help us rememeber your work in our lives in the past, and lead us to greater trust as we face today's difficulties. Amen.
because he has not rejected my prayer
or removed his steadfast love from me. " Psalm 66:20 NRSV
This verse is part of a larger Psalm that sings thanks to God for taking Israel out of Egypt and caring for them through many difficulties. Israel found strength when they remembered all that God had done. They also found more difficulties when they forgot how God had sustained them and rescued them.
I find myself really drawn to the history of Israel. Their experience echoes in my own life, as I realize how often I can forget God's steadfast love. As Rumi says "for sixty years I've been forgetful every minute". When days like today hit, when my head and body ache, when the path ahead is foggy and comples, when I'm weary and just plain tired of fighting the battle it is easy for me to forget. But God does not forget me...God does not forget his dear ones, whether it is Esrael, or you and me. We are not rejected or alone.
When I was about 13, I was feeling very much alone and awkward, as teens often are. I felt far away from any friends and rather lost. I didn't know God very well, but I instinctively knew that I needed God's help. I prayed and cried out to God to help me. Not long after, a new pastor who had come to our home congregation stopped by our house and he invited me to confirmation class (an intense three-year learning program in Christian faith). Gratefully, my parents agreed for me to start classes, and then committed to taking me to class and worship every week. God was faithful in answering my prayer, and over those years I learned of grace, met new, amazing friends and began to find my purpose in life.
Today's challenge is to remember at least one time in which God has led us through difficulties. Let us remember how God has saved us through Jesus, and how God has moved in our life and rescued us.
Look back...When did God lead you? When has God remembered you and God's grace embraced you?
Remembering those times gives us strength in these days when illness and difficulties surround us.
Remembering God's actions in the past reminds and encourages us to trust in God's care today.
Faithful God, you have heard the cries of your people throughout the ages. Help us rememeber your work in our lives in the past, and lead us to greater trust as we face today's difficulties. Amen.
Friday, May 27, 2011
focusing on Jesus
"As soon as the meal was finished, he insisted that the disciples get in the boat and go on ahead to the other side while he dismissed the people. With the crowd dispersed, he climbed the mountain so he could be by himself and pray. He stayed there alone, late into the night.
Meanwhile, the boat was far out to sea when the wind came up against them and they were battered by the waves. At about four o'clock in the morning, Jesus came toward them walking on the water. They were scared out of their wits. "A ghost!" they said, crying out in terror.
But Jesus was quick to comfort them. "Courage, it's me. Don't be afraid."
Peter, suddenly bold, said, "Master, if it's really you, call me to come to you on the water."
He said, "Come ahead."
Jumping out of the boat, Peter walked on the water to Jesus. But when he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink. He cried, "Master, save me!"
Jesus didn't hesitate. He reached down and grabbed his hand. Then he said, "Faint-heart, what got into you?"
The two of them climbed into the boat, and the wind died down. The disciples in the boat, having watched the whole thing, worshiped Jesus, saying, "This is it! You are God's Son for sure!"
Matthew 14:22-33 The Message
This bible story is a favorite. Water, waves, wind...and Jesus coming to the disciples on top of the water. Compelling and powerful story. I could preach on this for days... but won't...yet :-)
Two things catch my attention today- Peter's reaction to Jesus' call to come to him, and Jesus' reaction to Peter. Peter shows great faith in stepping out of the boat. He does what I'd NEVER think to do...he asks Jesus to make him do what Jesus is doing. And Jesus does. Peter starts walking on the water. Amazing!!
Then Peter does what I've so often done...he looks at the waves at his feet. He takes his eyes off Jesus and looks at the storm. So many days...so many TIMES a day I take my eyes off of Jesus. I look at the storm around me, within me, and I forget the one who called me to come and follow Him. I look at what is overwhelming me. Like Peter, the waves and storms are real, but I forget that Jesus' power and ability to bring me through the storm are just as real.
But here's the more amazing part...when Peter cries out "save me!" JESUS DOESN'T HESITATE. Jesus immediately reaches down and grabbed his hand. Likewise, when we cry out, "Jesus, save me ! I'm drowning in this!" JESUS DOESN'T HESITATE TO REACH OUT TO US. He is always there to grab our hand and pull us up...whether we are faint-hearts or courageous...or most likely... both.
Today, we are invited to keep our eyes on Jesus. In the midst of the waves that lap at our ankles or crash at our waists, we are called to keep focused on the one who loves us and saved us. And when the waves get our attention and we start to sink like Peter "the Rock", we know we can cry out to the one who has...and will save us--Jesus.
Powerful God, remind us today that we need not tell you how powerful the storms are around us, for you are already with us in the storms. Today, help us to remember to tell the storms how powerful you are. Amen.
Meanwhile, the boat was far out to sea when the wind came up against them and they were battered by the waves. At about four o'clock in the morning, Jesus came toward them walking on the water. They were scared out of their wits. "A ghost!" they said, crying out in terror.
But Jesus was quick to comfort them. "Courage, it's me. Don't be afraid."
Peter, suddenly bold, said, "Master, if it's really you, call me to come to you on the water."
He said, "Come ahead."
Jumping out of the boat, Peter walked on the water to Jesus. But when he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink. He cried, "Master, save me!"
Jesus didn't hesitate. He reached down and grabbed his hand. Then he said, "Faint-heart, what got into you?"
The two of them climbed into the boat, and the wind died down. The disciples in the boat, having watched the whole thing, worshiped Jesus, saying, "This is it! You are God's Son for sure!"
Matthew 14:22-33 The Message
This bible story is a favorite. Water, waves, wind...and Jesus coming to the disciples on top of the water. Compelling and powerful story. I could preach on this for days... but won't...yet :-)
Two things catch my attention today- Peter's reaction to Jesus' call to come to him, and Jesus' reaction to Peter. Peter shows great faith in stepping out of the boat. He does what I'd NEVER think to do...he asks Jesus to make him do what Jesus is doing. And Jesus does. Peter starts walking on the water. Amazing!!
Then Peter does what I've so often done...he looks at the waves at his feet. He takes his eyes off Jesus and looks at the storm. So many days...so many TIMES a day I take my eyes off of Jesus. I look at the storm around me, within me, and I forget the one who called me to come and follow Him. I look at what is overwhelming me. Like Peter, the waves and storms are real, but I forget that Jesus' power and ability to bring me through the storm are just as real.
But here's the more amazing part...when Peter cries out "save me!" JESUS DOESN'T HESITATE. Jesus immediately reaches down and grabbed his hand. Likewise, when we cry out, "Jesus, save me ! I'm drowning in this!" JESUS DOESN'T HESITATE TO REACH OUT TO US. He is always there to grab our hand and pull us up...whether we are faint-hearts or courageous...or most likely... both.
Today, we are invited to keep our eyes on Jesus. In the midst of the waves that lap at our ankles or crash at our waists, we are called to keep focused on the one who loves us and saved us. And when the waves get our attention and we start to sink like Peter "the Rock", we know we can cry out to the one who has...and will save us--Jesus.
Powerful God, remind us today that we need not tell you how powerful the storms are around us, for you are already with us in the storms. Today, help us to remember to tell the storms how powerful you are. Amen.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
He will carry you
"He will feed his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms,
and carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead the mother sheep." Isaiah 40:11
As storms continue to rage across much of the US, and people are recovering from storm damage, and preparing for the next wave, this song came to mind as a word of hope and comfort. For those with chronic illness, these storm systems can also wreak havoc personally, stirring up pain, severe headaches, and a variety of symptoms, on top of any other things they may be facing.
May these words encourage and comfort~
peace,
Andrea
ps- when you click on the title, a link to vimeo should appear. If you have trouble seeing this video, please email me at aljprmips@gmail.com
He will carry Me...song by Mark Schultz, video by Marla, pics copied from google
http://vimeo.com/13190057
he will gather the lambs in his arms,
and carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead the mother sheep." Isaiah 40:11
As storms continue to rage across much of the US, and people are recovering from storm damage, and preparing for the next wave, this song came to mind as a word of hope and comfort. For those with chronic illness, these storm systems can also wreak havoc personally, stirring up pain, severe headaches, and a variety of symptoms, on top of any other things they may be facing.
May these words encourage and comfort~
peace,
Andrea
ps- when you click on the title, a link to vimeo should appear. If you have trouble seeing this video, please email me at aljprmips@gmail.com
He will carry Me...song by Mark Schultz, video by Marla, pics copied from google
http://vimeo.com/13190057
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Surrounded by support
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely,* and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.." Hebrews 12:1a NRSV
"You can do it! I believe in you!! Just a few more lines and you'll be finished!" These were my words to our son yesterday. No, it wasn't a track meet, but a handwriting assignment. He has his mother's penchant for procrastination, and put off an ongoing assignment until the last minute. Yesterday morning, 90 minutes before he was to leave for school, he woke up and started writing. While I made breakfast and packed lunch, I cheered him on and helped him focus at the task at hand.
You see, at 6am, doing an assignment he'd put off because he really didn't WANT to do it, our son was getting discouraged at this thing he had to do. Motherly instincts kicking in, I did what I could...short of writing the lesson myself. I cheered the boy on. That early morning pep session got me thinking....
In the book of Hebrews, the writer draws the readers' attention to the faith of those who have gone before us--Abraham, Sarah, and the people of Israel. They believed in the promises of God even when there was no evidence to trust them, and because of God's work in and through them, they are a 'great cloud of witnesses' to cheer on future generations.
Who have been the people to cheer you on in your lifetime? Was there a great teacher, a vibrant and encouraging parent, a faithful friend who never lost faith in you? We may be at a place and territory where it is harder to hear the encouragements now, and harder for those around us to know how to encourage us, or we may have ample encouragement. Either way, I invite us all to think back to the special people in our lives who have cheered us on. Remember...what did they say? When did they say it? What did it mean to you? What might that beloved person say to you now if they could? How did the way they lived their life and their faith give you courage to take a next step?
Draw strength from the great cloud of witnesses today-- let their voices and encouragement for you in the past, give you wisdom to live boldly and eventually be a bold witness for others, even in this illness.
Holy God, thank you for working in the lives of your people throughout the centuries. Thank you for working in the lives of people in our life, and for the encouragement you give through their witness. Draw us in today and help us once again be encouraged by the words and the lives of your people of faith. Amen.
"You can do it! I believe in you!! Just a few more lines and you'll be finished!" These were my words to our son yesterday. No, it wasn't a track meet, but a handwriting assignment. He has his mother's penchant for procrastination, and put off an ongoing assignment until the last minute. Yesterday morning, 90 minutes before he was to leave for school, he woke up and started writing. While I made breakfast and packed lunch, I cheered him on and helped him focus at the task at hand.
You see, at 6am, doing an assignment he'd put off because he really didn't WANT to do it, our son was getting discouraged at this thing he had to do. Motherly instincts kicking in, I did what I could...short of writing the lesson myself. I cheered the boy on. That early morning pep session got me thinking....
In the book of Hebrews, the writer draws the readers' attention to the faith of those who have gone before us--Abraham, Sarah, and the people of Israel. They believed in the promises of God even when there was no evidence to trust them, and because of God's work in and through them, they are a 'great cloud of witnesses' to cheer on future generations.
Who have been the people to cheer you on in your lifetime? Was there a great teacher, a vibrant and encouraging parent, a faithful friend who never lost faith in you? We may be at a place and territory where it is harder to hear the encouragements now, and harder for those around us to know how to encourage us, or we may have ample encouragement. Either way, I invite us all to think back to the special people in our lives who have cheered us on. Remember...what did they say? When did they say it? What did it mean to you? What might that beloved person say to you now if they could? How did the way they lived their life and their faith give you courage to take a next step?
Draw strength from the great cloud of witnesses today-- let their voices and encouragement for you in the past, give you wisdom to live boldly and eventually be a bold witness for others, even in this illness.
Holy God, thank you for working in the lives of your people throughout the centuries. Thank you for working in the lives of people in our life, and for the encouragement you give through their witness. Draw us in today and help us once again be encouraged by the words and the lives of your people of faith. Amen.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Called upon to pray
"Pray without ceasing." 1 Thessalonians 5:17
As pictures from the tornado ravaged city of Joplin, MO come pouring in, the needs of that community are staggering. Already there are more people who have died in this single storm than in any tornado in 50 years and the death toll is rising. Places of safety, homes and even a hospital are horribly damaged, and many homes no longer exist.
The needs will continue. Rescue workers and relief workers are facing very difficult jobs, and the aftermath of this much needed service to their community will have an extended cost for some in the form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
My heart is with the people of Joplin today, and while my training and my wish would be to be on the ground volunteering and debriefing rescue workers, my body will not allow such a thing. As people with chronic illnesses, in the face of such tragedy, we may wonder what could we possibly do?
Pray, folks, pray. Do not underestimate the power of yourself, or of this group as we come before God asking for help on behalf of the people of Joplin. As it says in James 5:16 "The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective. " I know that if I were reading this, I would catch that phrase and say, "well I know I"m not righteous." That is right. On my own, I am not righteous, but because of Jesus' righteousness and mercy, I am made righteous in the sight of God. Jesus' own righteousness covers you and me.
Pray, therefore. Even if we're in a physically or mentally difficult day, please pray for Joplin: its people, those who mourn, those injured, those who are responding to others' needs.
We have a powerful task ahead of us. We are needed right now, right here. We are each needed to pray.
Let us make today a day of action. Let us together make today a day of prayer.
Dear Lord, hear the cries of your people. Hear the prayers of those who call upon you. Give strength to the weary, comfort to those who mourn, and power to the powerless. Be with all in need today, gracious God, and empower the people on this blog to be powerful people of prayer. Amen.
As pictures from the tornado ravaged city of Joplin, MO come pouring in, the needs of that community are staggering. Already there are more people who have died in this single storm than in any tornado in 50 years and the death toll is rising. Places of safety, homes and even a hospital are horribly damaged, and many homes no longer exist.
The needs will continue. Rescue workers and relief workers are facing very difficult jobs, and the aftermath of this much needed service to their community will have an extended cost for some in the form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
My heart is with the people of Joplin today, and while my training and my wish would be to be on the ground volunteering and debriefing rescue workers, my body will not allow such a thing. As people with chronic illnesses, in the face of such tragedy, we may wonder what could we possibly do?
Pray, folks, pray. Do not underestimate the power of yourself, or of this group as we come before God asking for help on behalf of the people of Joplin. As it says in James 5:16 "The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective. " I know that if I were reading this, I would catch that phrase and say, "well I know I"m not righteous." That is right. On my own, I am not righteous, but because of Jesus' righteousness and mercy, I am made righteous in the sight of God. Jesus' own righteousness covers you and me.
Pray, therefore. Even if we're in a physically or mentally difficult day, please pray for Joplin: its people, those who mourn, those injured, those who are responding to others' needs.
We have a powerful task ahead of us. We are needed right now, right here. We are each needed to pray.
Let us make today a day of action. Let us together make today a day of prayer.
Dear Lord, hear the cries of your people. Hear the prayers of those who call upon you. Give strength to the weary, comfort to those who mourn, and power to the powerless. Be with all in need today, gracious God, and empower the people on this blog to be powerful people of prayer. Amen.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Shelter for the Weary
"In you, O Lord, I seek refuge; do not let me ever be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me." Psalm 31:1 NRSV
Something I've noticed about this territory of chronic illness is that, at least for me, there are some emotions that continue to be traveling companions. Unfortunately, one of the "emotional traveling companions" that comes to mind today is rather difficult to walk with: vulnerability. Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines vulnerability as "the quality or state of having little resistance to some outside agent. " Another definition is to be susceptible to attack from outside or within.
Wow. That seems to speak to the experience of illness, at least for me, on a variety of levels. For some of us with chronic illness, an outside agent (virus, chemical, trauma ) attacked our bodies. For others, an inside "agent" (cells growing wild out of control, a genetic illness that clicked in, or a chemical imbalance or deficiency) attacked our status quo and we fight illness.
But that's just the beginning...as the psalmist speaks of shame, that may resonate in our lives as well. The stigma of certain illnesses (even though disease is disease), the difficulty of having to stop normal activities, or having to perform activities with the aid of equipment like a wheelchair, or the aid of medicines can leave us feeling a sense of shame or embarassment, even though it is not our 'fault'. The reality of this chronic illness territory is that it is hard work...and very often made harder because of the vulnerability...to further illness or to continuing struggles with the emotional vulnerability that it brings.
I try very hard to continue to put a positive attitude forth with the changes and challenges of chronic illness. I work to keep seeing the opportunities and the privileges that God most certainly sets forth on the path of this journey, but so many others don't see the positive --they see the challenge, and the wilderness and the vulnerability. Surrounded by a society that doesn't really 'get' this territory, it is not hard to become weary of keeping our head above water (emotionally speaking). It's hard not to become weary of the messages of shame that can permeate our best defenses as the world around us obsesses about health and beauty, and it's not hard to become weary as we try to physically keep going from day to day.
Vulnerability and weariness are not signs that we're doing anything wrong...they are just signs that we are traveling a tough terrain. Just like we wouldn't blame ourselves for experiencing heat and dust in the desert, we need to not blame ourselves when we get weary and feel susceptible to attack. In the desert, you prepare with water and shelter, and it would seem good advice for us to prepare too.
Fortunately, we don't have to rely upon what we started with, but we can learn and keep preparing along the way, and we have a Lord that walks with us to shelter and to guide. When we are feeling weary of the territory, when we are feeling too vulnerable, when we are just plain weary of the energy it takes to make it through some of our days, there is a loving God who seeks to draw us in, protect us and give us strength.
We need only call upon him to find refuge from the vulnerability of our situation, and defense against our sense of shame.
Are you feeling weary today? Vulnerable? I encourage you to think of or write down one situation or feeling from which you are seeking shelter and protection. In your mind's-eye, (or in your hands if you wrote it down) lift up that situation to God. See the Lord take it, and remove it from you to a place it cannot harm you. Notice that God is so very much bigger than the situation or emotion, and yet the Lord comes to protect and shelter YOU. If this situation or emotion is very powerful, you may need to hand it over to the Lord several times. In my experience, it's not because God can't handle it, but often I won't let it go, and will keep holding onto it. Remember- no blame if you have to let go more than once. This is very rough territory and you are doing your best. You and are I doing what we are able to do. The sheltering presence of God doesn't depend upon OUR ability, but upon God's righteousness. It depends upon God being God, and that is very good news.
Protective God, shelter your weary ones under the shadow of your wing. All those who feel vulnerable physically, mentally and spiritually we ask you to hold safe in the hollow of your hand. Thank you for being a refuge for the weary, and renew our spirits by your strong and tender touch. Amen.
Something I've noticed about this territory of chronic illness is that, at least for me, there are some emotions that continue to be traveling companions. Unfortunately, one of the "emotional traveling companions" that comes to mind today is rather difficult to walk with: vulnerability. Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines vulnerability as "the quality or state of having little resistance to some outside agent. " Another definition is to be susceptible to attack from outside or within.
Wow. That seems to speak to the experience of illness, at least for me, on a variety of levels. For some of us with chronic illness, an outside agent (virus, chemical, trauma ) attacked our bodies. For others, an inside "agent" (cells growing wild out of control, a genetic illness that clicked in, or a chemical imbalance or deficiency) attacked our status quo and we fight illness.
But that's just the beginning...as the psalmist speaks of shame, that may resonate in our lives as well. The stigma of certain illnesses (even though disease is disease), the difficulty of having to stop normal activities, or having to perform activities with the aid of equipment like a wheelchair, or the aid of medicines can leave us feeling a sense of shame or embarassment, even though it is not our 'fault'. The reality of this chronic illness territory is that it is hard work...and very often made harder because of the vulnerability...to further illness or to continuing struggles with the emotional vulnerability that it brings.
I try very hard to continue to put a positive attitude forth with the changes and challenges of chronic illness. I work to keep seeing the opportunities and the privileges that God most certainly sets forth on the path of this journey, but so many others don't see the positive --they see the challenge, and the wilderness and the vulnerability. Surrounded by a society that doesn't really 'get' this territory, it is not hard to become weary of keeping our head above water (emotionally speaking). It's hard not to become weary of the messages of shame that can permeate our best defenses as the world around us obsesses about health and beauty, and it's not hard to become weary as we try to physically keep going from day to day.
Vulnerability and weariness are not signs that we're doing anything wrong...they are just signs that we are traveling a tough terrain. Just like we wouldn't blame ourselves for experiencing heat and dust in the desert, we need to not blame ourselves when we get weary and feel susceptible to attack. In the desert, you prepare with water and shelter, and it would seem good advice for us to prepare too.
Fortunately, we don't have to rely upon what we started with, but we can learn and keep preparing along the way, and we have a Lord that walks with us to shelter and to guide. When we are feeling weary of the territory, when we are feeling too vulnerable, when we are just plain weary of the energy it takes to make it through some of our days, there is a loving God who seeks to draw us in, protect us and give us strength.
We need only call upon him to find refuge from the vulnerability of our situation, and defense against our sense of shame.
Are you feeling weary today? Vulnerable? I encourage you to think of or write down one situation or feeling from which you are seeking shelter and protection. In your mind's-eye, (or in your hands if you wrote it down) lift up that situation to God. See the Lord take it, and remove it from you to a place it cannot harm you. Notice that God is so very much bigger than the situation or emotion, and yet the Lord comes to protect and shelter YOU. If this situation or emotion is very powerful, you may need to hand it over to the Lord several times. In my experience, it's not because God can't handle it, but often I won't let it go, and will keep holding onto it. Remember- no blame if you have to let go more than once. This is very rough territory and you are doing your best. You and are I doing what we are able to do. The sheltering presence of God doesn't depend upon OUR ability, but upon God's righteousness. It depends upon God being God, and that is very good news.
Protective God, shelter your weary ones under the shadow of your wing. All those who feel vulnerable physically, mentally and spiritually we ask you to hold safe in the hollow of your hand. Thank you for being a refuge for the weary, and renew our spirits by your strong and tender touch. Amen.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
How Can I Keep From Singing?
" Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord from the heavens;
praise him in the heights!
Praise him, all his angels;
praise him, all his host!
Praise him, sun and moon;
praise him, all you shining stars!
Praise him, you highest heavens,
and you waters above the heavens!" Psalm 148:1-4 NRSV
The sun is shining this morning, the birds are chittering, and for some unknown reason my head is spinning and I'm knocked flat with light-headedness and dizziness-- my reflections today will be necessarily short. As I pondered what to post this morning, I thought about this paradox of being surrounded by a glorious morning and feeling absolutely lousy. I am certain there are many others who visit this blog that know, from their own experience and perspective, exactly what I'm talking about if not today, then on other days.
I chose this particular song this morning because it is not your typical "happy, happy, joy, joy" song. It is beautiful and lively, and it praises God...but listen carefully. It speaks of praising God in the prardoxes of our lives, when others would not expect us to be praising. This song is just as appropriate and beautiful beside a hospital bed and at a funeral as it is on a Sunday morning in worship on a beautiful spring day.
May the words of this song bring us to a worshipful place, even if we're too ill this morning to attend worship, and may we know that the Lord hears clearly those praises that come from the difficult places in our lives.
peace,
Andrea
Praise the Lord from the heavens;
praise him in the heights!
Praise him, all his angels;
praise him, all his host!
Praise him, sun and moon;
praise him, all you shining stars!
Praise him, you highest heavens,
and you waters above the heavens!" Psalm 148:1-4 NRSV
The sun is shining this morning, the birds are chittering, and for some unknown reason my head is spinning and I'm knocked flat with light-headedness and dizziness-- my reflections today will be necessarily short. As I pondered what to post this morning, I thought about this paradox of being surrounded by a glorious morning and feeling absolutely lousy. I am certain there are many others who visit this blog that know, from their own experience and perspective, exactly what I'm talking about if not today, then on other days.
I chose this particular song this morning because it is not your typical "happy, happy, joy, joy" song. It is beautiful and lively, and it praises God...but listen carefully. It speaks of praising God in the prardoxes of our lives, when others would not expect us to be praising. This song is just as appropriate and beautiful beside a hospital bed and at a funeral as it is on a Sunday morning in worship on a beautiful spring day.
May the words of this song bring us to a worshipful place, even if we're too ill this morning to attend worship, and may we know that the Lord hears clearly those praises that come from the difficult places in our lives.
peace,
Andrea
Saturday, May 21, 2011
What if...?
"Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour." Matthew 25:13 NRSV
When asked what he'd do if he knew if the end of the world was coming in an hour, Martin Luther is reported to have replied "Plant a tree". I suspect Luther, being a wise student of scripture remembered Jesus' words, that no one but God alone knows the ending of time.
In our area of the country/world, there is news making its way around that there are some who believe the end of the world is coming tonight. I happen to stand with Luther in the belief that humans do not know the ending of time. After all, God created time, and God is the one alone who has the ability to complete time, so I really don't spend much of my 'time' :-D thinking of the ending.
But all this hullabaloo got me thinking...what if? What if today WAS my last day? What would I do?
I think this question can be a very helpful one in clarifying our values and what is important in our lives. It cleans out the 'stuff' that isn't going to really matter. So, here's what I've done so far... I made a batch of gluten-free muffins and a pot of decaf coffee, I've decided to write on this blog, I've made a conscious effort to speak kindly and lovingly to my kids and spouse, I've patted the dogs a bit more than usual :-) , and I'm planning to take my meds and then get ready to cheer my son on in his pinewood derby championship race. Later, since the sun is shining, I will put up the hammock and relax on this warm spring day. I've also spent much of this day, and plan to even more, in conversation with God (prayer).
I'm not choosing to stop my meds, or stop paying my bills... if the end comes, it will just take care of that. But I am trying to choose even more than usual to spend what time I have in ways that are important to me, and with people that are important to me...like you all.
It also strikes me that folks with Chronic illnesses probably have a leg-up on the average population when it comes to living life to the fullest every day. It may not seem like it because of the very real limitations we face due to physical and mental health issues, but it is my belief that our experiences already act like a strainer to limit us to using our energy for the things that really matter in our lives. True, sometimes, we cannot participate in things we really want to because of our limits, but I believe that when it comes to knowing life each day is precious, we know that down to our bones.
I also would hazard to guess that many if not most of us at some point in this journey have had our own mortality smack us in the face. We've had to come to the very real understanding that our own time does come to an end. I know I've had to...more than once. At times, in the midst of our worst struggles, the promise that this will end may come as a sweet relief, and we would welcome it. Or we may fight against the end, with the hopes that we may feel better in this life.
While I don't dwell in it, I also know that facing my mortality has shaped decisions I've made, and it has helped me to appreciate each day, and the people in it quite a bit more. The sunshine and the fresh muffins seem a bit sweeter today, and the smiles on the people I love are even more poignant this day...
So...what if the world ended today? What would you do? How would you prepare your heart and mind, and how would you LIVE today? Go and enjoy this day...and every day that we get as a gift.
Dear God, thank you for this day. Every day you give us is a gift. As people who wrestle with illness, we are well aware that this life will end. Give comfort to those in pain and struggle today, give hope to those who are feeling despair, and stir in all of us gratitude for the beauty and grace that you touch us with each day of our lives. Amen.
When asked what he'd do if he knew if the end of the world was coming in an hour, Martin Luther is reported to have replied "Plant a tree". I suspect Luther, being a wise student of scripture remembered Jesus' words, that no one but God alone knows the ending of time.
In our area of the country/world, there is news making its way around that there are some who believe the end of the world is coming tonight. I happen to stand with Luther in the belief that humans do not know the ending of time. After all, God created time, and God is the one alone who has the ability to complete time, so I really don't spend much of my 'time' :-D thinking of the ending.
But all this hullabaloo got me thinking...what if? What if today WAS my last day? What would I do?
I think this question can be a very helpful one in clarifying our values and what is important in our lives. It cleans out the 'stuff' that isn't going to really matter. So, here's what I've done so far... I made a batch of gluten-free muffins and a pot of decaf coffee, I've decided to write on this blog, I've made a conscious effort to speak kindly and lovingly to my kids and spouse, I've patted the dogs a bit more than usual :-) , and I'm planning to take my meds and then get ready to cheer my son on in his pinewood derby championship race. Later, since the sun is shining, I will put up the hammock and relax on this warm spring day. I've also spent much of this day, and plan to even more, in conversation with God (prayer).
I'm not choosing to stop my meds, or stop paying my bills... if the end comes, it will just take care of that. But I am trying to choose even more than usual to spend what time I have in ways that are important to me, and with people that are important to me...like you all.
It also strikes me that folks with Chronic illnesses probably have a leg-up on the average population when it comes to living life to the fullest every day. It may not seem like it because of the very real limitations we face due to physical and mental health issues, but it is my belief that our experiences already act like a strainer to limit us to using our energy for the things that really matter in our lives. True, sometimes, we cannot participate in things we really want to because of our limits, but I believe that when it comes to knowing life each day is precious, we know that down to our bones.
I also would hazard to guess that many if not most of us at some point in this journey have had our own mortality smack us in the face. We've had to come to the very real understanding that our own time does come to an end. I know I've had to...more than once. At times, in the midst of our worst struggles, the promise that this will end may come as a sweet relief, and we would welcome it. Or we may fight against the end, with the hopes that we may feel better in this life.
While I don't dwell in it, I also know that facing my mortality has shaped decisions I've made, and it has helped me to appreciate each day, and the people in it quite a bit more. The sunshine and the fresh muffins seem a bit sweeter today, and the smiles on the people I love are even more poignant this day...
So...what if the world ended today? What would you do? How would you prepare your heart and mind, and how would you LIVE today? Go and enjoy this day...and every day that we get as a gift.
Dear God, thank you for this day. Every day you give us is a gift. As people who wrestle with illness, we are well aware that this life will end. Give comfort to those in pain and struggle today, give hope to those who are feeling despair, and stir in all of us gratitude for the beauty and grace that you touch us with each day of our lives. Amen.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Words of Wisdom
"let the wise also hear and gain in learning,
and the discerning acquire skill " Proverbs 1:5
My apologies for the late post. A week of being primary parent while my husband and daughter were on a trip finally caught up with me today. I had/have lots of ideas for a post today, but fell asleep almost every time I sat at my computer :-) Will share those thoughts tomorrow.
Grace-fully, I received an email from my father-in-law today, and I'd like to share a bit of it with you. Reading through the list, there are some I agree with whole-heartedly, some I would take with condition, and some I don't agree on. I'd love to hear your comments and responses. I'd also invite you to share any words of wisdom you have used in your life that you'd like to share~ I'm sure there is great wisdom in these ranks!
peace,
Andrea
Written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of the Plain Dealer, Cleveland , Ohio .
"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most requested column I've ever written.
My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:
1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3.. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
16.. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
22. Over prepare, then go with the flow..
23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'
27. Always choose life.
28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
33. Believe in miracles.
34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
37. Your children get only one childhood.
38... All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
42. The best is yet to come...
43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
44. Yield.
45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."
Dear Lord, you have filled our lives with lessons and wisdom. Open our hearts and minds to listen and learn from you. Amen.
and the discerning acquire skill " Proverbs 1:5
My apologies for the late post. A week of being primary parent while my husband and daughter were on a trip finally caught up with me today. I had/have lots of ideas for a post today, but fell asleep almost every time I sat at my computer :-) Will share those thoughts tomorrow.
Grace-fully, I received an email from my father-in-law today, and I'd like to share a bit of it with you. Reading through the list, there are some I agree with whole-heartedly, some I would take with condition, and some I don't agree on. I'd love to hear your comments and responses. I'd also invite you to share any words of wisdom you have used in your life that you'd like to share~ I'm sure there is great wisdom in these ranks!
peace,
Andrea
Written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of the Plain Dealer, Cleveland , Ohio .
"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most requested column I've ever written.
My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:
1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3.. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
16.. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
22. Over prepare, then go with the flow..
23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'
27. Always choose life.
28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
33. Believe in miracles.
34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
37. Your children get only one childhood.
38... All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
42. The best is yet to come...
43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
44. Yield.
45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."
Dear Lord, you have filled our lives with lessons and wisdom. Open our hearts and minds to listen and learn from you. Amen.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Happy for a CPAP??
" I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. " Romans 8:18 NRSV
Chronic illness is indeed an odd territory. It changes your perspective more than you'd ever dream. Just a couple of years ago, when I heard about CPAP machines which aid sleep apnea patients in breathing at night, the thought of strapping a face mask on and keeping it on all night seemed unthinkable. I never imagined I could put up with such a contraption.
Yesterday I received my own CPAP, and truly couldn't wait to go to bed so I could use it. What changed? My perception. Originally, I was judging the use of the CPAP from the comfortable, restful night sleep with which I was familiar. Any kind of assistance seemed like a nuisance at best, and more likely an invasion of my night.
However, night after night of fatigued sleep and days without energy, has changed my view. The CPAP is something that I perceive to be an aid and something that will give me bigger relief from a real problem. The aid no longer seems to be a nuisance when put up against poor sleep quality. A large part of this change of perception also comes from having traveled a road of truly uncomfortable and even painful tests. We have come through struggles in hope of real relief for our greater problem...problematic health...and it is worth the temporary inconvenience and "suffering" of the tests and tools to help solve our greater issues.
This came into sharp relief when I found I was excited as a kid on Christmas Eve when I got the call the machine was in, and also heard comments from well-meaning people that said they were sorry I had to "put up" with the CPAP. Our perceptions shape how we face what lies ahead, and the road behind us shapes our perceptions.
Pondering all these thoughts, St. Paul's words from the 8th Chapter of Romans came to mind. I have to admit that I've struggled with this text in the past. It seemed to me that it was a way of denying the reality of pain and suffering now and replacing it with a "pie in the sky" image. It wasn't until this present journey of health issues that I could start to really appreciate the depth of what Paul is saying. Paul was no stranger to suffering: he was beaten, imprisoned more times than I can remember, ship-wrecked, hungry, and facing chronic illness as well. Paul is one who knew real suffering in his life on many levels. He was not one to ever deny the reality of pain, but he had an unique perception of it due to the roads he'd traveled. What we're facing now will pale in comparison to the greatness of what's to come.
To say it another way, the relief and healing that will come in the end is worth all the testing, all the contraptions that we need to wrestle with now. All that we are wrestling with in our faith now will be worth what is to come. Like looking forward to the CPAP, perhaps I can look at spiritual struggles with joy and excitement, for I know what they will bring: peace, belonging, mercy, compassion and unconditional love.
God of Grace, help us to not only bear the burdens of this day, but help us to dare to embrace the challenges as the next step toward coming closer to you. Help us to see how our perceptions have already changed because of this journey, and encourage us especially in the struggles and challenges on the road ahead. Amen.
Chronic illness is indeed an odd territory. It changes your perspective more than you'd ever dream. Just a couple of years ago, when I heard about CPAP machines which aid sleep apnea patients in breathing at night, the thought of strapping a face mask on and keeping it on all night seemed unthinkable. I never imagined I could put up with such a contraption.
Yesterday I received my own CPAP, and truly couldn't wait to go to bed so I could use it. What changed? My perception. Originally, I was judging the use of the CPAP from the comfortable, restful night sleep with which I was familiar. Any kind of assistance seemed like a nuisance at best, and more likely an invasion of my night.
However, night after night of fatigued sleep and days without energy, has changed my view. The CPAP is something that I perceive to be an aid and something that will give me bigger relief from a real problem. The aid no longer seems to be a nuisance when put up against poor sleep quality. A large part of this change of perception also comes from having traveled a road of truly uncomfortable and even painful tests. We have come through struggles in hope of real relief for our greater problem...problematic health...and it is worth the temporary inconvenience and "suffering" of the tests and tools to help solve our greater issues.
This came into sharp relief when I found I was excited as a kid on Christmas Eve when I got the call the machine was in, and also heard comments from well-meaning people that said they were sorry I had to "put up" with the CPAP. Our perceptions shape how we face what lies ahead, and the road behind us shapes our perceptions.
Pondering all these thoughts, St. Paul's words from the 8th Chapter of Romans came to mind. I have to admit that I've struggled with this text in the past. It seemed to me that it was a way of denying the reality of pain and suffering now and replacing it with a "pie in the sky" image. It wasn't until this present journey of health issues that I could start to really appreciate the depth of what Paul is saying. Paul was no stranger to suffering: he was beaten, imprisoned more times than I can remember, ship-wrecked, hungry, and facing chronic illness as well. Paul is one who knew real suffering in his life on many levels. He was not one to ever deny the reality of pain, but he had an unique perception of it due to the roads he'd traveled. What we're facing now will pale in comparison to the greatness of what's to come.
To say it another way, the relief and healing that will come in the end is worth all the testing, all the contraptions that we need to wrestle with now. All that we are wrestling with in our faith now will be worth what is to come. Like looking forward to the CPAP, perhaps I can look at spiritual struggles with joy and excitement, for I know what they will bring: peace, belonging, mercy, compassion and unconditional love.
God of Grace, help us to not only bear the burdens of this day, but help us to dare to embrace the challenges as the next step toward coming closer to you. Help us to see how our perceptions have already changed because of this journey, and encourage us especially in the struggles and challenges on the road ahead. Amen.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Fighting the lies -- "nobody understands"
"Long enough, God— you've ignored me long enough.
I've looked at the back of your head
long enough. Long enough
I've carried this ton of trouble,
lived with a stomach full of pain.
Long enough my arrogant enemies
have looked down their noses at me.
Take a good look at me,God , my God;
I want to look life in the eye,
So no enemy can get the best of me
or laugh when I fall on my face.
I've thrown myself headlong into your arms—
I'm celebrating your rescue.
I'm singing at the top of my lungs,
I'm so full of answered prayers. " Psalm 13, The Message
Yesterday I corresponded with someone who has been an important and powerful friend in my life. He had been sick for the past month, and I'd lost contact with him before that, so there was much to catch up on. I shared some things I felt were important. This person is a mentor of mine, and has always been a really good listener, so I was surprised when I received a note back that seemed to be joking about what I said. I was in a place of struggle and not feeling well, and certainly not in any kind of a playful mood. I found myself going down that road of "he doesn't understand either."
Now because of the history of our friendship, when I backed away from the hurt, I realized I was walking into the conversation with a certain attitude, and when he didn't show that same attitude, I jumped to "he doesn't care what I'm facing--and doesn't want to understand."
I think this is a defense mechanism that I move into when I'm physically feeling poorly, or I'm mentally drained and don't want to explain to yet another person all the of the complexities of the illness. It is an understandable feeling, but not often helpful. Yes, there are times when people don't understand what we're experiencing. How many doctors have we seen who weren't sure what we were experiencing? How often do we not know what exactly we're facing? There are also times when I don't share with others the extent of what I'm facing because I don't want to burden them with the sometimes overwhelming details of daily life. Of course there are times when others don't know what we're experiencing, for a variety of reasons, BUT that doesn't mean they don't want to know, or the bigger lie... that they don't care about us.
There are times when our conditions, whether physical or mental pain, can make us believe the lies that no one understands, or that no one wants to understand...not even God. It is not true. There are people who do want to understand and do care, even if at the present time we may not be experiencing that care. And above all, God does care deeply. God does understand. As the Psalm speaks, the psalm writer is launching himself into God's arms-- frustrated and in pain, and yet trusting whole-heartedly that he will be caught. The Psalm ends with the writer praising God fully.
Before we can even speak, God meets us with open arms, understanding and love. The next time we feel the lie that no one understands, let's launch ourselves into the waiting arms of the Lord who made us, and who is with us each day.
Dear Lord, in our own confusion and hurt, we sometimes believe the lie that no one understands. Surround us with loving people who can reassure us that they do care and want to know what we're experiencing, and help us to remember that you always understand no matter how complex. Amen.
I've looked at the back of your head
long enough. Long enough
I've carried this ton of trouble,
lived with a stomach full of pain.
Long enough my arrogant enemies
have looked down their noses at me.
Take a good look at me,
I want to look life in the eye,
So no enemy can get the best of me
or laugh when I fall on my face.
I've thrown myself headlong into your arms—
I'm celebrating your rescue.
I'm singing at the top of my lungs,
I'm so full of answered prayers. " Psalm 13, The Message
Yesterday I corresponded with someone who has been an important and powerful friend in my life. He had been sick for the past month, and I'd lost contact with him before that, so there was much to catch up on. I shared some things I felt were important. This person is a mentor of mine, and has always been a really good listener, so I was surprised when I received a note back that seemed to be joking about what I said. I was in a place of struggle and not feeling well, and certainly not in any kind of a playful mood. I found myself going down that road of "he doesn't understand either."
Now because of the history of our friendship, when I backed away from the hurt, I realized I was walking into the conversation with a certain attitude, and when he didn't show that same attitude, I jumped to "he doesn't care what I'm facing--and doesn't want to understand."
I think this is a defense mechanism that I move into when I'm physically feeling poorly, or I'm mentally drained and don't want to explain to yet another person all the of the complexities of the illness. It is an understandable feeling, but not often helpful. Yes, there are times when people don't understand what we're experiencing. How many doctors have we seen who weren't sure what we were experiencing? How often do we not know what exactly we're facing? There are also times when I don't share with others the extent of what I'm facing because I don't want to burden them with the sometimes overwhelming details of daily life. Of course there are times when others don't know what we're experiencing, for a variety of reasons, BUT that doesn't mean they don't want to know, or the bigger lie... that they don't care about us.
There are times when our conditions, whether physical or mental pain, can make us believe the lies that no one understands, or that no one wants to understand...not even God. It is not true. There are people who do want to understand and do care, even if at the present time we may not be experiencing that care. And above all, God does care deeply. God does understand. As the Psalm speaks, the psalm writer is launching himself into God's arms-- frustrated and in pain, and yet trusting whole-heartedly that he will be caught. The Psalm ends with the writer praising God fully.
Before we can even speak, God meets us with open arms, understanding and love. The next time we feel the lie that no one understands, let's launch ourselves into the waiting arms of the Lord who made us, and who is with us each day.
Dear Lord, in our own confusion and hurt, we sometimes believe the lie that no one understands. Surround us with loving people who can reassure us that they do care and want to know what we're experiencing, and help us to remember that you always understand no matter how complex. Amen.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Chris Tomlin - I Lift My Hands
Good morning everyone~ physically rough day here. I have not forgotten you, just moving slowly ;-)
Here is what I am able to share today. The song is beautiful and so are the pictures. May God inspire and move your heart to draw closer to His love today.
peace,
Andrea
"O Lord, you are my God;
I will exalt you, I will praise your name;
for you have done wonderful things,
plans formed of old, faithful and sure. " Isaiah 25:1 NRSV
O Lord, there are times when even lifting our hands may be difficult for those with illness. Help us to praise you and remember your love and faithfulness on good days and bad, in good health and ill, and remind us that it is not our faithfulness that we must depend upon...but yours. Thank you for your mercy, love, and faithfulness that surrounds and embraces us each day. Amen.
Here is what I am able to share today. The song is beautiful and so are the pictures. May God inspire and move your heart to draw closer to His love today.
peace,
Andrea
"O Lord, you are my God;
I will exalt you, I will praise your name;
for you have done wonderful things,
plans formed of old, faithful and sure. " Isaiah 25:1 NRSV
O Lord, there are times when even lifting our hands may be difficult for those with illness. Help us to praise you and remember your love and faithfulness on good days and bad, in good health and ill, and remind us that it is not our faithfulness that we must depend upon...but yours. Thank you for your mercy, love, and faithfulness that surrounds and embraces us each day. Amen.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Fighting the lies
"Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God." 1 John 4:7 NRSV
"Wherever we see brokenness it is the opportunity for us to spread light." I was surprised to hear myself say this in the grocery store this morning. Now, I know I talk like this on this blog, and would talk like this in my preaching, but I don't usually talk like this in most of the rest of my life. Believe me, I'm not usually this poetic in my daily life...especially grocery shopping!
Here's what happened: I had dropped my son off to school, and decided to swing by the store. Upon checking out, I started talking to a cashier I've known for a while. We were talking about some changes taking place in our community, and this usually up-beat, positive woman was sounding like she was giving up on our community. I encouraged her that those of us who have a higher hope for our town could make a difference, and she didn't believe it. Her attitude was surprisingly defeatist and fatalistic. Things were changing and it was going to just be bad.
Perhaps she'd had a bad morning or a bad weekend, but her words really sparked something inside of me that couldn't accept her vision for the future. Her words touched on something that I've wrestled with during long-term illness...a sense of helplessness, and a sense that there is nothing we can do.
Leaving the grocery store, my head started to spin-- from ideas, not from the POTS this time! Helplessness, hopelessness, giving up, worthlessness...they are all lies that illness can speak to us. Obviously, we're not the only ones who face feelings like these, but it strikes me that people who live with and battle chronic illnesses have a greater familiarity with these thoughts and feelings. Some of us battle them on a daily basis, and we have some very good weapons in place to fight them off. We fight them because society often speaks these lies to us, well-meaning friends or family might echo some of these fears and lies to us without meaning to, and often (at least for myself) we can speak these lies to ourselves: "There's nothing we can do. We're not worth anything anymore. What's the point? What does it matter?" Any of these sound familiar?
They do to me. On my toughest days these questions and others like them come pouring in. I've learned, over time, that there are some effective things to battle these negative lies that want us to believe the worst about ourselves, and anticipate the least from our potential. In fact, I want to boldly assert that people with Chronic illnesses have important things to teach others about fighting these negative lies. Many of us have had a great deal of experience with warding off these mental predators, and we are stronger warriors than we know.
This week I want to focus not just on the lies that Chronic illness can spread, but upon the tools and gifts that you and I have learned and are learning through our experience, and how in fact, we can be teachers and mentors to others as they face difficult territory in their lives. As we fight the lies, and as we encourage others, we also live in and spread the love of God in important and powerful ways as God's love flows through us.
To encourage you today and inspire you to perhaps take a different look at yourself-- as one who is particularly and powerfully gifted by your experiences-- I share with you this song below by the group Avalon. It reminds me of my friend's comment that her pastor has hold her that breathing in and out is another form of prayer. Living and being are powerful witnesses to God's Love.
Lord God, today help me see my experiences as powerful resources that can help strengthen and train others. Help me not to believe the lies, but to look to you for understanding my real value and strength, and remind me that my strength is grounded in you...and is grounded in love. Amen.
"Wherever we see brokenness it is the opportunity for us to spread light." I was surprised to hear myself say this in the grocery store this morning. Now, I know I talk like this on this blog, and would talk like this in my preaching, but I don't usually talk like this in most of the rest of my life. Believe me, I'm not usually this poetic in my daily life...especially grocery shopping!
Here's what happened: I had dropped my son off to school, and decided to swing by the store. Upon checking out, I started talking to a cashier I've known for a while. We were talking about some changes taking place in our community, and this usually up-beat, positive woman was sounding like she was giving up on our community. I encouraged her that those of us who have a higher hope for our town could make a difference, and she didn't believe it. Her attitude was surprisingly defeatist and fatalistic. Things were changing and it was going to just be bad.
Perhaps she'd had a bad morning or a bad weekend, but her words really sparked something inside of me that couldn't accept her vision for the future. Her words touched on something that I've wrestled with during long-term illness...a sense of helplessness, and a sense that there is nothing we can do.
Leaving the grocery store, my head started to spin-- from ideas, not from the POTS this time! Helplessness, hopelessness, giving up, worthlessness...they are all lies that illness can speak to us. Obviously, we're not the only ones who face feelings like these, but it strikes me that people who live with and battle chronic illnesses have a greater familiarity with these thoughts and feelings. Some of us battle them on a daily basis, and we have some very good weapons in place to fight them off. We fight them because society often speaks these lies to us, well-meaning friends or family might echo some of these fears and lies to us without meaning to, and often (at least for myself) we can speak these lies to ourselves: "There's nothing we can do. We're not worth anything anymore. What's the point? What does it matter?" Any of these sound familiar?
They do to me. On my toughest days these questions and others like them come pouring in. I've learned, over time, that there are some effective things to battle these negative lies that want us to believe the worst about ourselves, and anticipate the least from our potential. In fact, I want to boldly assert that people with Chronic illnesses have important things to teach others about fighting these negative lies. Many of us have had a great deal of experience with warding off these mental predators, and we are stronger warriors than we know.
This week I want to focus not just on the lies that Chronic illness can spread, but upon the tools and gifts that you and I have learned and are learning through our experience, and how in fact, we can be teachers and mentors to others as they face difficult territory in their lives. As we fight the lies, and as we encourage others, we also live in and spread the love of God in important and powerful ways as God's love flows through us.
To encourage you today and inspire you to perhaps take a different look at yourself-- as one who is particularly and powerfully gifted by your experiences-- I share with you this song below by the group Avalon. It reminds me of my friend's comment that her pastor has hold her that breathing in and out is another form of prayer. Living and being are powerful witnesses to God's Love.
Lord God, today help me see my experiences as powerful resources that can help strengthen and train others. Help me not to believe the lies, but to look to you for understanding my real value and strength, and remind me that my strength is grounded in you...and is grounded in love. Amen.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Technical Difficulties?
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart"
This past week I found myself increasingly frustrated with technical things around me that didn't work the way they were supposed to. In the scheme of things, most of them were not big issues: the HD on the TV was acting up, the dishwasher was being funky, the drains in the tub and sink were slow as molasses...you get the picture. Mostly small inconveniences that were annoying. But then there was this blog. For several days I would encounter a notice that the blog was down whenever I tried to post. For me this was more than an inconvenience...it was cutting off a vital link with some folks I'm connected with.
Many of you that read this blog I've not met personally, and yet I feel a strong calling and connection to the ministry here. I believe God is doing something important through this blog, and through the community that is forming here. So when this was shut down, my frustrations grew. My apologies to all of you who came here and didn't get new messages and didn't know what was happening. I didn't forget. I was fine. I just couldn't post due to technical difficulties.
As I was percolating about this during the week, I was reminded of a lesson God taught me years ago. On Friday, I was on my way to an important lunch at our kids' school. As I came to the end of our road, the train crossing bars came down and the signal began to ring. Frustrated, I put the car into park and waited. It gave me a minute to remember...
About 10 years ago I was serving a congregation near here, and was at a Confirmation Camp meeting. During the meeting my phone rang, and I put it on silence (an unusual thing, as I normally check to see if it was the church with an emergency). After talking with someone after the meeting ended I checked my phone to find out it was, indeed, an emergency. A parishoner was taken to a hospital about an hour away, and it was critical. I headed straight over to the hospital from the meeting, but wouldn't you know, I hit every single train stop on the way. (I live and was serving in a more rural area of the country) Every...single...train!!! And it wasn't a short stop, either. They were long trains. After the 8th train-- yes, I said 8th-- I was fit to be tied. I was berating myself for turning off the phone, I was feeling like something was holding me back from getting there, and was generally a wreck. Finally, after 2 and 1/2 hours I reached the hospital.
As I arrived at her bedside, the family told me she had just had a breathing treatment and could finally talk. We shared an important conversation for about 10 mintues, and then she was Life-flighted to a larger hospital. As I walked to the elevator with the family, they shared with me that my timing to get there had been perfect. She hadn't been able to talk the whole time they were there, and they had just found out she was being transferred right before I got there. Those 10 minutes I spoke with her were the only ones in their whole time there that she was able to talk, and our visit had been useful in calming and reassuring her of God's care and presence.
Standing by that elevator I was humbled. What I thought was my own, terrible mistake was God's perfect timing. I was awed, and calmed to know that even when I thought things were completely fallling apart, God was gently guiding and using the circumstances to the best care of this woman and her family.
Ever since then, I've tried to remember this event, particularly when I'm running into "technical difficulties". God has shown me again and again that the care and presence that God has promised comes in God's own best time... not mine.
Today, in the midst of minor (or even major) challenges, may we know God's loving, gentle, guiding hand and may we perhaps get the gift of seeing things in God's timing.
peace,
Andrea
Eternal God, may our hearts trust you today, especially if circumstances don't go as we plan. Help us to see your loving hand and perfect timing amist our daily lives. Amen.
This past week I found myself increasingly frustrated with technical things around me that didn't work the way they were supposed to. In the scheme of things, most of them were not big issues: the HD on the TV was acting up, the dishwasher was being funky, the drains in the tub and sink were slow as molasses...you get the picture. Mostly small inconveniences that were annoying. But then there was this blog. For several days I would encounter a notice that the blog was down whenever I tried to post. For me this was more than an inconvenience...it was cutting off a vital link with some folks I'm connected with.
Many of you that read this blog I've not met personally, and yet I feel a strong calling and connection to the ministry here. I believe God is doing something important through this blog, and through the community that is forming here. So when this was shut down, my frustrations grew. My apologies to all of you who came here and didn't get new messages and didn't know what was happening. I didn't forget. I was fine. I just couldn't post due to technical difficulties.
As I was percolating about this during the week, I was reminded of a lesson God taught me years ago. On Friday, I was on my way to an important lunch at our kids' school. As I came to the end of our road, the train crossing bars came down and the signal began to ring. Frustrated, I put the car into park and waited. It gave me a minute to remember...
About 10 years ago I was serving a congregation near here, and was at a Confirmation Camp meeting. During the meeting my phone rang, and I put it on silence (an unusual thing, as I normally check to see if it was the church with an emergency). After talking with someone after the meeting ended I checked my phone to find out it was, indeed, an emergency. A parishoner was taken to a hospital about an hour away, and it was critical. I headed straight over to the hospital from the meeting, but wouldn't you know, I hit every single train stop on the way. (I live and was serving in a more rural area of the country) Every...single...train!!! And it wasn't a short stop, either. They were long trains. After the 8th train-- yes, I said 8th-- I was fit to be tied. I was berating myself for turning off the phone, I was feeling like something was holding me back from getting there, and was generally a wreck. Finally, after 2 and 1/2 hours I reached the hospital.
As I arrived at her bedside, the family told me she had just had a breathing treatment and could finally talk. We shared an important conversation for about 10 mintues, and then she was Life-flighted to a larger hospital. As I walked to the elevator with the family, they shared with me that my timing to get there had been perfect. She hadn't been able to talk the whole time they were there, and they had just found out she was being transferred right before I got there. Those 10 minutes I spoke with her were the only ones in their whole time there that she was able to talk, and our visit had been useful in calming and reassuring her of God's care and presence.
Standing by that elevator I was humbled. What I thought was my own, terrible mistake was God's perfect timing. I was awed, and calmed to know that even when I thought things were completely fallling apart, God was gently guiding and using the circumstances to the best care of this woman and her family.
Ever since then, I've tried to remember this event, particularly when I'm running into "technical difficulties". God has shown me again and again that the care and presence that God has promised comes in God's own best time... not mine.
Today, in the midst of minor (or even major) challenges, may we know God's loving, gentle, guiding hand and may we perhaps get the gift of seeing things in God's timing.
peace,
Andrea
Eternal God, may our hearts trust you today, especially if circumstances don't go as we plan. Help us to see your loving hand and perfect timing amist our daily lives. Amen.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
When you come to the end of your rope...
Today I will shift away from the transition reflections. Once a week I will have one or two of those reflections as we go along, but today we're solely back to scripture--and this is a set of verses within a larger chapter that melts and warms my heart every single time.
"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:28-29 NRSV
You have likely heard the phrase "at the end of your rope". It is that point at which we can take no more. It is the "up" with which we can no longer "put". The straw that broke the camel's back. It is that place where we are tired, bone-weary, soul-weary, and we see no more options. We feel trapped and for the life of us can see no way out.
One of the 'sage' bits of wisdom about this end-of-the-rope-place is that when you get there, you're supposed to tie a knot and hang on. I don't particularly like this wisdom...I've tried it. It doesn't work. I think back over the years of working with congregations and that place where I'm at the end of my rope. Frustrated with some challenge in the congregation, or within myself, I'd start thinking there were no other options. My creativity would dry up and my vision would become a tunnel.
I think of health challenges over the past years and months, and I recall day after day, waking exhausted and aching, and telling myself just one more day...just one more Sunday then I could rest. I kept pushing through the warning signs my body was giving that it was at the end of its rope too. If only I could talk myself into having more courage to hang on...if only I could persevere one more day it would be better...if only I could cling to those faulty thoughts and actions that brought me to this place, certainly tomorrow would be different. Like a Boy Scout at camp, I became really good at tying knots. The only problem is that eventually you just run out of rope...and strength. Eventually you make a knot that is either too big to tie, or too big to hold onto. And you fall.
Nov. 7, 2010 was when I could no longer hold onto the rope. I could no longer just hold on for one more day. I couldn't pretend any longer that I didn't have a sickness, or that if I just coped with it right it wouldn't have to change my life. The illness was real, and so was the end of the rope.
I've often said, "When you come to the end of your rope, let go. You will be caught by God's Grace every single time." I've said it, but when it came time for me to DO it, I was much more comfortable trying to do the things that didn't work. That's the definition of insanity, you know--trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I had convinced myself that if only I worked harder... if only I could be better at...(whatever) it would change... but it didn't change. It wore me out to the place that I couldn't hold on no matter how hard I tried. And so I let go.
Now, it took (and is taking!) time to do this. After a life-time of rope-clinging, one doesn't become good at letting go overnight. Not by a long-shot. It is taking me time to pry my hands off, thread after thread. However, what I'm finding, time and again is that when I do let go, God catches me. Every. Single. Time.
"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."
Did you catch that? Did you hear that? Nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God. Nothing. Not illness, not manic or depressive episodes, not PTSD, not surgeries, or losses of job or friends, not crazy tests, or stress. Nothing will take God's eye off of us so that we are missed. No, God loves us and is attentive to where we are and what we're going through. We are never alone, and we are never without the net of Grace to tenderly catch us...even when it looks like letting go will destroy us.
Time and again, I've discovered to my surprise and delight, when I've surrendered and let go, I've found God opening up new options, and new ways of living. Letting go of the rope isn't the ending, it is the beginning.
Where are you on your 'rope'? What would it take for you to let go and risk being caught by Grace?
It is not a common choice that people make, but it is a choice that can make all the difference in the world. It is a choice that leads to life.
Dear Lord, sometimes we reach the end of our rope and we don't have the strength to carry on physically, mentally, or spiritually. Help us surrender to your love today, and help us to know that we are held by your Grace. Amen.
"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:28-29 NRSV
You have likely heard the phrase "at the end of your rope". It is that point at which we can take no more. It is the "up" with which we can no longer "put". The straw that broke the camel's back. It is that place where we are tired, bone-weary, soul-weary, and we see no more options. We feel trapped and for the life of us can see no way out.
One of the 'sage' bits of wisdom about this end-of-the-rope-place is that when you get there, you're supposed to tie a knot and hang on. I don't particularly like this wisdom...I've tried it. It doesn't work. I think back over the years of working with congregations and that place where I'm at the end of my rope. Frustrated with some challenge in the congregation, or within myself, I'd start thinking there were no other options. My creativity would dry up and my vision would become a tunnel.
I think of health challenges over the past years and months, and I recall day after day, waking exhausted and aching, and telling myself just one more day...just one more Sunday then I could rest. I kept pushing through the warning signs my body was giving that it was at the end of its rope too. If only I could talk myself into having more courage to hang on...if only I could persevere one more day it would be better...if only I could cling to those faulty thoughts and actions that brought me to this place, certainly tomorrow would be different. Like a Boy Scout at camp, I became really good at tying knots. The only problem is that eventually you just run out of rope...and strength. Eventually you make a knot that is either too big to tie, or too big to hold onto. And you fall.
Nov. 7, 2010 was when I could no longer hold onto the rope. I could no longer just hold on for one more day. I couldn't pretend any longer that I didn't have a sickness, or that if I just coped with it right it wouldn't have to change my life. The illness was real, and so was the end of the rope.
I've often said, "When you come to the end of your rope, let go. You will be caught by God's Grace every single time." I've said it, but when it came time for me to DO it, I was much more comfortable trying to do the things that didn't work. That's the definition of insanity, you know--trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I had convinced myself that if only I worked harder... if only I could be better at...(whatever) it would change... but it didn't change. It wore me out to the place that I couldn't hold on no matter how hard I tried. And so I let go.
Now, it took (and is taking!) time to do this. After a life-time of rope-clinging, one doesn't become good at letting go overnight. Not by a long-shot. It is taking me time to pry my hands off, thread after thread. However, what I'm finding, time and again is that when I do let go, God catches me. Every. Single. Time.
"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."
Did you catch that? Did you hear that? Nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God. Nothing. Not illness, not manic or depressive episodes, not PTSD, not surgeries, or losses of job or friends, not crazy tests, or stress. Nothing will take God's eye off of us so that we are missed. No, God loves us and is attentive to where we are and what we're going through. We are never alone, and we are never without the net of Grace to tenderly catch us...even when it looks like letting go will destroy us.
Time and again, I've discovered to my surprise and delight, when I've surrendered and let go, I've found God opening up new options, and new ways of living. Letting go of the rope isn't the ending, it is the beginning.
Where are you on your 'rope'? What would it take for you to let go and risk being caught by Grace?
It is not a common choice that people make, but it is a choice that can make all the difference in the world. It is a choice that leads to life.
Dear Lord, sometimes we reach the end of our rope and we don't have the strength to carry on physically, mentally, or spiritually. Help us surrender to your love today, and help us to know that we are held by your Grace. Amen.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
....it's an Adventure Part II - Transition
"For God saved us and called us to live a holy life. He did this, not because we deserved it, but because that was his plan from before the beginning of time - to show us his grace through Christ Jesus."
~ 2 Timothy 1:9, NLT
"We do more before 6am than most people do all day." This line from an Army commercial in the '80's was memorable to me. They showed all the work and training the armed services did before breakfast, and it was staggering the amount of physical and mental work that people were being challenged to do. The closing line announced "It's not just a job....it's an adventure."
This commercial came to mind as I lay in bed waking this morning. I laughed at the thought of a parallel with my illness "I do less all day than most people do by 6am!" LOL...
Choosing a more positive approach, I decided to go for 'I do more mental work before getting out of bed than most people do by noon.:" It's true...all of it. I am physically less able to do work, but in order for me to even get out of bed, it takes more effort than most people are aware of. In the past, my brain wouldn't even get going until after I showered. Now that is the first thing I must engage before even moving.
In congregational ministry it is commonly accepted that a pastor and congregation when first starting out together will have about an 18 month "honeymoon" phase, where it's all new and they give each other a lot of leeway and appreciation as they learn about one another. Since many interim ministries only last roughly 18 months, there is no long honeymoon with a congregation. Honestly, I've experienced honeymoon periods with congregations usually lasting a couple of weeks, with the longest being about a month, and the shortest being a day and a half. As you can see, in interim ministry, you hit the ground running and engage the life of the congregation quickly.
Within interim circles, the ministry is referred to as the 'faster pastor', as it refers to the speed at which the tasks of interim ministry need to be done. Congregations and pastors in interim transitions work harder than most people realize. They go through major changes in a relatively short time frame. Interim time...it's an adventure....
So what could possibly link this thought about 'faster pastors' and chronic illness? How could this possibly make sense as most days I move "slower than molasses in January"? Well, just as there's more than meets the eye in congregational transitions, there is MUCH more than meets the eye in people who experience chronic illnesses. What most people look for is the externals-- how 'sick' we look, or how 'good' we look. (Sick being used to mean illness, as opposed to how my daughter and her friends comment on things being 'sick').
What many people miss (myself included before I found myself on this journey) is that there are a whole lot more changes that happen inside one's heart and mind as you enter the world of long-term illness. There is a whole new range of thinking... everything from "New Normal" to the idea that this journey holds great treasures for us spiritually as human beings to enduring the pain and loss of this time. There is much more than meets the eye when it comes to Chronic illnesses. It's not just sickness...it's an adventure.
Living with and through Chronic illness is an experience that requires our best efforts, and is often a daily challenge. Sometimes (perhaps often at first) that challenge can feel overwhelming, and takes everything we have to make it through a day. At the same time, we often hear or interpret messages from society that there's something 'wrong' with us if we're having difficulties with long-term illness. OF COURSE we're having difficulties with fighting illness for a long time...this is HARD WORK, and it's just part of the territory.
Today I want to encourage us to try and reframe how we look at this day, and this life in which God has already saved us, and gives us Jesus to guide us, and the Holy Spirit which gives us strength in all things. I invite us all to look at this day ahead of us as not just another day to survive, but as an adventure. What can we learn today? How can we grow today? How can we show others our faith in the midst of trying circumstances? How will we choose to face life head-on today?
If you have stories of how you "do more than other people do in a day" because of your illness, I look forward to hearing your stories. May God bless this day of adventure for you.
Dearest Lord, we find ourselves in very challening times. Help us to face them with courage and a sense of adventure, knowing that you are right beside us to encourage and give strength. Amen.
~ 2 Timothy 1:9, NLT
"We do more before 6am than most people do all day." This line from an Army commercial in the '80's was memorable to me. They showed all the work and training the armed services did before breakfast, and it was staggering the amount of physical and mental work that people were being challenged to do. The closing line announced "It's not just a job....it's an adventure."
This commercial came to mind as I lay in bed waking this morning. I laughed at the thought of a parallel with my illness "I do less all day than most people do by 6am!" LOL...
Choosing a more positive approach, I decided to go for 'I do more mental work before getting out of bed than most people do by noon.:" It's true...all of it. I am physically less able to do work, but in order for me to even get out of bed, it takes more effort than most people are aware of. In the past, my brain wouldn't even get going until after I showered. Now that is the first thing I must engage before even moving.
In congregational ministry it is commonly accepted that a pastor and congregation when first starting out together will have about an 18 month "honeymoon" phase, where it's all new and they give each other a lot of leeway and appreciation as they learn about one another. Since many interim ministries only last roughly 18 months, there is no long honeymoon with a congregation. Honestly, I've experienced honeymoon periods with congregations usually lasting a couple of weeks, with the longest being about a month, and the shortest being a day and a half. As you can see, in interim ministry, you hit the ground running and engage the life of the congregation quickly.
Within interim circles, the ministry is referred to as the 'faster pastor', as it refers to the speed at which the tasks of interim ministry need to be done. Congregations and pastors in interim transitions work harder than most people realize. They go through major changes in a relatively short time frame. Interim time...it's an adventure....
So what could possibly link this thought about 'faster pastors' and chronic illness? How could this possibly make sense as most days I move "slower than molasses in January"? Well, just as there's more than meets the eye in congregational transitions, there is MUCH more than meets the eye in people who experience chronic illnesses. What most people look for is the externals-- how 'sick' we look, or how 'good' we look. (Sick being used to mean illness, as opposed to how my daughter and her friends comment on things being 'sick').
What many people miss (myself included before I found myself on this journey) is that there are a whole lot more changes that happen inside one's heart and mind as you enter the world of long-term illness. There is a whole new range of thinking... everything from "New Normal" to the idea that this journey holds great treasures for us spiritually as human beings to enduring the pain and loss of this time. There is much more than meets the eye when it comes to Chronic illnesses. It's not just sickness...it's an adventure.
Living with and through Chronic illness is an experience that requires our best efforts, and is often a daily challenge. Sometimes (perhaps often at first) that challenge can feel overwhelming, and takes everything we have to make it through a day. At the same time, we often hear or interpret messages from society that there's something 'wrong' with us if we're having difficulties with long-term illness. OF COURSE we're having difficulties with fighting illness for a long time...this is HARD WORK, and it's just part of the territory.
Today I want to encourage us to try and reframe how we look at this day, and this life in which God has already saved us, and gives us Jesus to guide us, and the Holy Spirit which gives us strength in all things. I invite us all to look at this day ahead of us as not just another day to survive, but as an adventure. What can we learn today? How can we grow today? How can we show others our faith in the midst of trying circumstances? How will we choose to face life head-on today?
If you have stories of how you "do more than other people do in a day" because of your illness, I look forward to hearing your stories. May God bless this day of adventure for you.
Dearest Lord, we find ourselves in very challening times. Help us to face them with courage and a sense of adventure, knowing that you are right beside us to encourage and give strength. Amen.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Strength through our weakness- the Gifts of Transition part 1
"Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power* is made perfect in weakness.’ So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong. " 2 Corinthians 12:8-10 NRSV
For over 12 years, my most recent calling in ministry has been to congregations in transition. It is called interim ministry, but I like the word transition much better. Interim often gets confused with "intern" and people have often asked me when I'd become a real pastor...18 years ago is my recent answer :-) . Or people associate an interim pastor with that of a substitute teacher, that somehow I'm a "place-holder" until the next pastor comes. Now, in fairness, in some congregations and denominational bodies, that is the purpose interim pastors serve, and often those folks are retired pastors who have experience and want to keep their hand in ministry.
My experience with Interim ministry is quite different from either of those suppositions. Because I have had extensive training in conflict resolution, I've had the incredible privilege of entering the life of congregations when they are facing some of their most difficult times, perhaps the most difficult in their history. As I've alluded to before, chronic illness and interim ministry have some very interesting parallels, and today I'm starting a series that draws upon those parallels and what they have to teach during chronic illness. Today we will look at "weakness".
Now most congregations won't admit they are going through a time where they are feeling weak, but if you listen at all, you can hear their concerns. Folks will apologize to me for what they are facing, and explain to me what they remember in their times of strength. There is often a sense of embarassment that they are in a difficult situation, and wondering "what pastor would come to us now?" And one phrase stands out from a congregaton as a staff member very succinctly reflected, "things will never be the same."
If you are unfamiliar with major changes, transition times can seem like disaster. Everything familiar is gone, and the understanding of how a congregation is valuable and what they have to offer seems to be turned on its ear. Transition, at first, very often seems like an ending.
The benefit of having gone through many (and often multiple) transitions in my own life and in many congregational settings is that I see transition differently. Instead of disaster, I have learned the transition opens a door to new possibilities. Instead of an ending, transition is the rich potential for a new beginning. Instead of things being turned upside down, oddly, there are things that may 'right' themselves for the first time in decades, leaving the congregation in a healthier place.
The scripture for this morning is one of my favorite verses. I could use this same verse for months and it would speak to so many life experiences. St. Paul aslo knew the dynamics of major change. This is the one who was Saul and was transformed into Paul. Through him God worked to change the outreah of the church toward Jews and Gentiles. Saul had been good at what he did-- a highly skilled Pharisee-- but God offered a bigger plan and bigger sense of purpose.
We do not know what ailed Paul, but we know it was difficult, and he fervently prayed it might be removed. In a mind-bending answer, Paul is told that God's grace is suffficient, and that God's strength is made perfect in weakness. The Holy Spirit showed Paul the possibilities that could only come from being broken and reformed by God's loving hand.
Transitions, while we are in the middle of them, often do not feel like the loving hand of God. Quite the opposite. Congregations often felt they were being punished or serving penance when facing transitions.
Grief can also be so strong that for a while it blocks the seeing of any future possibilities.
On a personal level, these same dynamics occur. I remember facing a difficult death in my life. Shortly after I found out about the death, a well-meaning nurse who knew I was a pastor said "This will make you a better pastor". Logically I knew she was right, but emotionally I was nowhere near being able to accept that. I was just angry and hurt over this loss. I remember thinking, "I'd rather be the WORST pastor in the world if I could just get this loved one back..."
Even now, in facing long term illness, there are many days when I find it hard to see the future possibilities. When my body or spirit aches, it is terribly hard to see anything more than what I'm facing now. It is difficult to imagine useful work that God might be able to do through me. It can seem that "things will never be the same" and that often doesn't feel like a good thing at all. That's when it's important for me to trust what I've seen God do in transitions.
Over and over, I have seen God lay new, powerful opportunities before congregations. I've seen God revitalize ministries that seemed to have little life left in them. I've seen God turn around places that I half-expected would close. I've seen God bring new life, over and over again, to congregations that felt they were facing death in the transition.
I suspect this may sound familiar to some of you-- not as a congregational 'thing', but as a very personal thing-- and it is meant to. If you are facing the pain of transition from health to chronic illness, please know, first of all, you are not alone. What you are experiencing is not uniquely strange to you...this is part of the territory of chronic illness. Please also hear that you are not abandoned, but that you are truly precious to God, right now, as you are. And while it may be darn near impossilble to see, we have opportunity in this time. We have opportunity to let go of old images of ourselves and hand ourselves over to see how God may shape our future. We have the opportunity (out of necessity) to try new ways of thinking, new ways of being. As we let go of old ways of life, new possibilities we've never dreamed of can open before us. As we experience being 'weak' compared to what we are used to, God's strength can shine through us in ways we never imagined.
Finally, I share this quote that brings hope and possibility into perspective:
For over 12 years, my most recent calling in ministry has been to congregations in transition. It is called interim ministry, but I like the word transition much better. Interim often gets confused with "intern" and people have often asked me when I'd become a real pastor...18 years ago is my recent answer :-) . Or people associate an interim pastor with that of a substitute teacher, that somehow I'm a "place-holder" until the next pastor comes. Now, in fairness, in some congregations and denominational bodies, that is the purpose interim pastors serve, and often those folks are retired pastors who have experience and want to keep their hand in ministry.
My experience with Interim ministry is quite different from either of those suppositions. Because I have had extensive training in conflict resolution, I've had the incredible privilege of entering the life of congregations when they are facing some of their most difficult times, perhaps the most difficult in their history. As I've alluded to before, chronic illness and interim ministry have some very interesting parallels, and today I'm starting a series that draws upon those parallels and what they have to teach during chronic illness. Today we will look at "weakness".
Now most congregations won't admit they are going through a time where they are feeling weak, but if you listen at all, you can hear their concerns. Folks will apologize to me for what they are facing, and explain to me what they remember in their times of strength. There is often a sense of embarassment that they are in a difficult situation, and wondering "what pastor would come to us now?" And one phrase stands out from a congregaton as a staff member very succinctly reflected, "things will never be the same."
If you are unfamiliar with major changes, transition times can seem like disaster. Everything familiar is gone, and the understanding of how a congregation is valuable and what they have to offer seems to be turned on its ear. Transition, at first, very often seems like an ending.
The benefit of having gone through many (and often multiple) transitions in my own life and in many congregational settings is that I see transition differently. Instead of disaster, I have learned the transition opens a door to new possibilities. Instead of an ending, transition is the rich potential for a new beginning. Instead of things being turned upside down, oddly, there are things that may 'right' themselves for the first time in decades, leaving the congregation in a healthier place.
The scripture for this morning is one of my favorite verses. I could use this same verse for months and it would speak to so many life experiences. St. Paul aslo knew the dynamics of major change. This is the one who was Saul and was transformed into Paul. Through him God worked to change the outreah of the church toward Jews and Gentiles. Saul had been good at what he did-- a highly skilled Pharisee-- but God offered a bigger plan and bigger sense of purpose.
We do not know what ailed Paul, but we know it was difficult, and he fervently prayed it might be removed. In a mind-bending answer, Paul is told that God's grace is suffficient, and that God's strength is made perfect in weakness. The Holy Spirit showed Paul the possibilities that could only come from being broken and reformed by God's loving hand.
Transitions, while we are in the middle of them, often do not feel like the loving hand of God. Quite the opposite. Congregations often felt they were being punished or serving penance when facing transitions.
Grief can also be so strong that for a while it blocks the seeing of any future possibilities.
On a personal level, these same dynamics occur. I remember facing a difficult death in my life. Shortly after I found out about the death, a well-meaning nurse who knew I was a pastor said "This will make you a better pastor". Logically I knew she was right, but emotionally I was nowhere near being able to accept that. I was just angry and hurt over this loss. I remember thinking, "I'd rather be the WORST pastor in the world if I could just get this loved one back..."
Even now, in facing long term illness, there are many days when I find it hard to see the future possibilities. When my body or spirit aches, it is terribly hard to see anything more than what I'm facing now. It is difficult to imagine useful work that God might be able to do through me. It can seem that "things will never be the same" and that often doesn't feel like a good thing at all. That's when it's important for me to trust what I've seen God do in transitions.
Over and over, I have seen God lay new, powerful opportunities before congregations. I've seen God revitalize ministries that seemed to have little life left in them. I've seen God turn around places that I half-expected would close. I've seen God bring new life, over and over again, to congregations that felt they were facing death in the transition.
I suspect this may sound familiar to some of you-- not as a congregational 'thing', but as a very personal thing-- and it is meant to. If you are facing the pain of transition from health to chronic illness, please know, first of all, you are not alone. What you are experiencing is not uniquely strange to you...this is part of the territory of chronic illness. Please also hear that you are not abandoned, but that you are truly precious to God, right now, as you are. And while it may be darn near impossilble to see, we have opportunity in this time. We have opportunity to let go of old images of ourselves and hand ourselves over to see how God may shape our future. We have the opportunity (out of necessity) to try new ways of thinking, new ways of being. As we let go of old ways of life, new possibilities we've never dreamed of can open before us. As we experience being 'weak' compared to what we are used to, God's strength can shine through us in ways we never imagined.
Finally, I share this quote that brings hope and possibility into perspective:
"There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly." ~Richard Buckminster Fuller
Lord God, we face times where we trust that you can see what we are becoming, because we are too overwhelmed by what we see in the present. Today we ask you to give us all a glimpse of how your strength is made perfect through our weakness. Help us to know your love, purpose and presence in our lives-- particularly when we are feeling that nothing will ever be the same. Help us to be reassured that you are near especially during the pain of transitions. Amen.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Things I learned from Mom...
"My voice You shall hear in the morning, O LORD;
In the morning I will direct it to You,
And I will look up. " Psalm 5:3
As I sit here in the quiet of this Mother's Day morning, of course, my thoughts go to my own Mom. My Mom had a habit of waking up at least 30 minutes before anyone else and, as she called it "making her peace with the world". I find this an amazing habit, and one I didn't really appreciate until we had children and school schedules to attend to. It is an amazing habit, because my Mom is a night owl, and often wouldn't go to sleep until well after midnight, only to wake again around 5 or 5:30.
Over the years I've used this same habit with various amounts of success, as I, too, am a night owl...or used to be. The latest evolution of this in my life over the past year is that I set the alarm early and then lay in bed for about 30 minutes as my body tries to prepare for needing to face the forces of gravity again. I lay there flat on my back checking email and news on my smartphone while I wake and "make my peace with the world'. What Mom taught me was that the quiet of the morning is a great place to start a day, and start caring for ourselves and others.
In the quiet of the morning we are more able to hear our own thoughts as well as to be able to hear the thoughts of the Lord bringing peace, assurance, calm and direction for our day. What might you be hearing this morning? Where are your thoughts drawn to this day?
For some it will be the habits of a precious, living mother, for others it may be reflections on the amazing love of an adoptive or foster mother who helped make the word "mother" real for the first time, or thoughts of your own mom as you have taken on the role of mom for your own family, for others it will be memories of a dear mother who has departed this life. For some the thoughts today may not be easy or comfortable to recall: reflections on a mom who gave over their child to be adopted for important and difficult reasons; or reflections of abuse or neglect at the hands of a parent. Or reflections of those who dearly wanted to become a mother but were unable to for challenging reasons, or the ache for someone to take care of us in a motherly way as we face our illness.
In the quiet of this morning my mind and heart are drawn to images from scripture that describe God in mother-like ways: the mother bear and the hen protecting her brood with her own body and life. No matter what our experience or memories of mother may be this day, we are loved tenderly and intimately by a God who seeks to still nurture and care for us today. And like a tender, compassionate mom, God seeks to hear our thoughts and embrace us with love.
As you may reflect upon what Mother's day means to you today, I invite you to share those thoughts with the Lord, to give thanks for the great examples of moms that you have experienced and also share the pain or loss that may surround this day for you. If you wish to share any thoughts on this blog, or with me personally, you are always welcomed to do so.
Gentle, protective God, this day we thank you for teaching us love through the examples of mothers, and we thank you for loving us through times of illness and grief, joy and celebration. Please be with us today and surround us with your loving arms. Amen.
In the morning I will direct it to You,
And I will look up. " Psalm 5:3
As I sit here in the quiet of this Mother's Day morning, of course, my thoughts go to my own Mom. My Mom had a habit of waking up at least 30 minutes before anyone else and, as she called it "making her peace with the world". I find this an amazing habit, and one I didn't really appreciate until we had children and school schedules to attend to. It is an amazing habit, because my Mom is a night owl, and often wouldn't go to sleep until well after midnight, only to wake again around 5 or 5:30.
Over the years I've used this same habit with various amounts of success, as I, too, am a night owl...or used to be. The latest evolution of this in my life over the past year is that I set the alarm early and then lay in bed for about 30 minutes as my body tries to prepare for needing to face the forces of gravity again. I lay there flat on my back checking email and news on my smartphone while I wake and "make my peace with the world'. What Mom taught me was that the quiet of the morning is a great place to start a day, and start caring for ourselves and others.
In the quiet of the morning we are more able to hear our own thoughts as well as to be able to hear the thoughts of the Lord bringing peace, assurance, calm and direction for our day. What might you be hearing this morning? Where are your thoughts drawn to this day?
For some it will be the habits of a precious, living mother, for others it may be reflections on the amazing love of an adoptive or foster mother who helped make the word "mother" real for the first time, or thoughts of your own mom as you have taken on the role of mom for your own family, for others it will be memories of a dear mother who has departed this life. For some the thoughts today may not be easy or comfortable to recall: reflections on a mom who gave over their child to be adopted for important and difficult reasons; or reflections of abuse or neglect at the hands of a parent. Or reflections of those who dearly wanted to become a mother but were unable to for challenging reasons, or the ache for someone to take care of us in a motherly way as we face our illness.
In the quiet of this morning my mind and heart are drawn to images from scripture that describe God in mother-like ways: the mother bear and the hen protecting her brood with her own body and life. No matter what our experience or memories of mother may be this day, we are loved tenderly and intimately by a God who seeks to still nurture and care for us today. And like a tender, compassionate mom, God seeks to hear our thoughts and embrace us with love.
As you may reflect upon what Mother's day means to you today, I invite you to share those thoughts with the Lord, to give thanks for the great examples of moms that you have experienced and also share the pain or loss that may surround this day for you. If you wish to share any thoughts on this blog, or with me personally, you are always welcomed to do so.
Gentle, protective God, this day we thank you for teaching us love through the examples of mothers, and we thank you for loving us through times of illness and grief, joy and celebration. Please be with us today and surround us with your loving arms. Amen.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Beautiful- Reflection II
Continuing with the theme of beautiful choices, this song has been echoing in my heart the past two days and I want to share it with you~
The lyrics are amazing, as is the tune. Enjoy on this beautiful Saturday...
peace,
Andrea
The lyrics are amazing, as is the tune. Enjoy on this beautiful Saturday...
peace,
Andrea
Friday, May 6, 2011
Choosing Beautiful
"When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars that you have established;
what are human beings that you are mindful of them,
mortals* that you care for them? " Psalm 8:3-4
As one of my children grumbled about homework, this, that and the other thing...the other was cheerful and loving life. Not a surprising thing, and depending on the day, they can easily switch roles, but it got me thinking. Same day, same experiences...different attitudes.
Being a parent has taught me so much about myself. I could hear my own words in both the grumblings and the hopefulness of my children. Even this morning I have experienced both of those places in my own day...being content, and then being a grouch. The day hasn't changed that much...but my mental approach has.
It strikes me that some of the magnificence of God's work is the multi-faceted way God has given us to look at life. We can see it as a burden or as beautiful. We can choose to look for purpose in it, or we can decree that there is no purpose.
The interesting thing about these choices is that if we open ourselves to seeking beauty and purpose, it will find us and we will see it. If we close ourselves off from purpose and beauty in life, it will find us and we will miss it. How often I've missed an incredible part of life because I'm ticked off and looking for things to prove I'm justified in being ticked off. It is not the external circumstances that shape our life...it is how we approach those circumstances that shapes us.
I remember sitting with my best friend from seminary once while we were at a conference out of state. One thing you need to know is that she utililzes a wheelchair, and has for decades due to something she was born with. She has been someone who has taught me so much about attitude, and when I think of her, I don't think of the wheelchair at all...I think of her laugh, her intelligence, her playful/wild side...in other words, I think of my friend, not the devices she uses to move or any "disability".
We were sitting at lunch at this conference, and another woman joined us. She was in a wheelchair as well, but she complained about everything, and how unfair things were. (where was she when we went to park in the handicap space and it was full of mud and lumber??- my friend and I laughed about THAT for years. "Hey, it's a space for people needing help. Let's fill it full of wood!! LOL) Anyway, the woman was difficult to sit with, and we were both relieved when she left the table. My friend then turned to me and quietly said "Now that's someone who's handicapped."
I'd never heard her talk like this, so I asked what she meant. She explained that throughout her life, she'd met people --in wheelchairs and out-- who were handicapped,not by physical means, but by attitude.
Whether we are healthy or living with chronic illness we have a choice. We can allow our circumstances to rule our feelings and our inner approach to life, or we can choose to face the external circumstances with an approach that is curious, encouraging, positive and sees the challenges as an opportunity. This is not easy...if it were, everyone would do it. However, by working on our inner attitude, we increase our resilience and we have a much greater chance to see the grace and beauty that surrounds us. Today I choose to work on changing my mood this morning, I choose to not let a grey rainy day and some random comments from a friend put me into an attitude where I'm looking for all that is bad. Today I choose to look for the wonder and beauty that is unfolding around me. What's your choice today?
Dear Lord, you have given us a world chock-full of the magnificence of your love. Help us to see the beauty aound us. Amen.
the moon and the stars that you have established;
what are human beings that you are mindful of them,
mortals* that you care for them? " Psalm 8:3-4
As one of my children grumbled about homework, this, that and the other thing...the other was cheerful and loving life. Not a surprising thing, and depending on the day, they can easily switch roles, but it got me thinking. Same day, same experiences...different attitudes.
Being a parent has taught me so much about myself. I could hear my own words in both the grumblings and the hopefulness of my children. Even this morning I have experienced both of those places in my own day...being content, and then being a grouch. The day hasn't changed that much...but my mental approach has.
It strikes me that some of the magnificence of God's work is the multi-faceted way God has given us to look at life. We can see it as a burden or as beautiful. We can choose to look for purpose in it, or we can decree that there is no purpose.
The interesting thing about these choices is that if we open ourselves to seeking beauty and purpose, it will find us and we will see it. If we close ourselves off from purpose and beauty in life, it will find us and we will miss it. How often I've missed an incredible part of life because I'm ticked off and looking for things to prove I'm justified in being ticked off. It is not the external circumstances that shape our life...it is how we approach those circumstances that shapes us.
I remember sitting with my best friend from seminary once while we were at a conference out of state. One thing you need to know is that she utililzes a wheelchair, and has for decades due to something she was born with. She has been someone who has taught me so much about attitude, and when I think of her, I don't think of the wheelchair at all...I think of her laugh, her intelligence, her playful/wild side...in other words, I think of my friend, not the devices she uses to move or any "disability".
We were sitting at lunch at this conference, and another woman joined us. She was in a wheelchair as well, but she complained about everything, and how unfair things were. (where was she when we went to park in the handicap space and it was full of mud and lumber??- my friend and I laughed about THAT for years. "Hey, it's a space for people needing help. Let's fill it full of wood!! LOL) Anyway, the woman was difficult to sit with, and we were both relieved when she left the table. My friend then turned to me and quietly said "Now that's someone who's handicapped."
I'd never heard her talk like this, so I asked what she meant. She explained that throughout her life, she'd met people --in wheelchairs and out-- who were handicapped,not by physical means, but by attitude.
Whether we are healthy or living with chronic illness we have a choice. We can allow our circumstances to rule our feelings and our inner approach to life, or we can choose to face the external circumstances with an approach that is curious, encouraging, positive and sees the challenges as an opportunity. This is not easy...if it were, everyone would do it. However, by working on our inner attitude, we increase our resilience and we have a much greater chance to see the grace and beauty that surrounds us. Today I choose to work on changing my mood this morning, I choose to not let a grey rainy day and some random comments from a friend put me into an attitude where I'm looking for all that is bad. Today I choose to look for the wonder and beauty that is unfolding around me. What's your choice today?
Dear Lord, you have given us a world chock-full of the magnificence of your love. Help us to see the beauty aound us. Amen.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Sprinting vs. Distance
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely,* and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us..." Hebrews 12:1 NRSV
This spring, for the first time, we are a track family. Both of our children have been in sports, but not track and field before. In watching the meets and practices I've learned some important and unexpected things.
I was reminded to never underestimate anyone. Our daughter never showed much interest in running, but it turns out she has some natural skill with the high jump...and she loves it! It is the last semester of middle school, yet she is trying a new sport, and is very glad she took the chance and tried something new. All the other sports were done, and track was the last one available. Instead of automatically writing off track because she was too old, or the year was almost done, she decided to explore her curiosity and try a new thing.
The second thing I learned was that there is a distinct difference between distance running and sprinting. This past fall our son discovered he loved to run cross country. In fact, only after he learned he might be able to run long distances in track did he decide to try.
So I was surprised at the first meet when the coach put him in the 100 M dash and in some relays. I understood that he wanted to get a baseline of the stills of the kids, so we supported our son running sprints. I watched, baffled, as our son's technique and stride completely changed. Instead of the long, effortless stride of his long distance days ( he really is a natural distance runner), on the track we saw our boy take on a unique stance. Suffice it to say that running sprints looked like a strenuous effort to him. By the same token, our daughter who loves to sprint now, has more difficulty with pacing on distances.
Clearly, different races require different skills, and different endurance.
As I've pondered this, I think about a good friend of mine who writes a blog on PTSD -- Post Traumatic Stress Disorder-- it is a fabulous blog, and if you know of someone who has faced traumas it is a great site. (The link is at the bottom of this blog page). My friend addresses the issues as a sprinter, and with good reason. The challenges for someone with PTSD are often intense and require immediate attention. He talks about having a RIT (Rapid Intervention Team) and the effects of PTSD as "Dragon Strikes". So much of it brings to mind shorter (relatively speaking), very intense encounters to face in one's day... like the 100 or 200 M dash. Taking care of oneself in those circumstances requires a specific set of tools and intense energy in the immediate future.
In contrast, I realize that this blog and my own approach to my health issues has been much more like the long-disance runner. Test results (while they can be intense) often take time. Improvement often is measured over weeks or months instead of hours or days. The challenges of living with chronic illness in day to day life requires endurance and a stride that won't wear you out too soon. Some of us are learning the coping skills that it requires to face chronic illness: patience, endurance, balance of one's life, and habits that will build health (often slowly) over time.
Now, there are times when the 'sprinter' in me wants faster results. I want the weight to drop NOW! I want results for such and such a test NOW! I want to see a doctor NOW! And my blogging colleague is teaching me much in his approach to long term care and perspective. None of us are simply sprinter or distance when it comes to challenges, but I think we have both capabilities within us. One part of the other (figuratively speaking) runs better either in the short sprint or the mile.
What are your natural gifts? Are you patient and unfazed by long waits, or do you handle things better when all chaos breaks loose and you're moving 90 miles an hour mentally? In faith, the Lord has given us specific gifts to run the race ahead of us, and to help train those who run alongside us.
Fear not, no matter how you run, the important thing is that you are still learning, still growing, and still 'running' pushing on to the goal. Run this race, and appreciate the gifts you've been given in your own self today.
Dear Lord, you give each of us precious gifts to live our faith no matter what the circumstances. Help us today to appreciate who we are and who you've made us to be. Help us also to learn from those you run this race differently, and help us support them with our own gifts. Amen.
This spring, for the first time, we are a track family. Both of our children have been in sports, but not track and field before. In watching the meets and practices I've learned some important and unexpected things.
I was reminded to never underestimate anyone. Our daughter never showed much interest in running, but it turns out she has some natural skill with the high jump...and she loves it! It is the last semester of middle school, yet she is trying a new sport, and is very glad she took the chance and tried something new. All the other sports were done, and track was the last one available. Instead of automatically writing off track because she was too old, or the year was almost done, she decided to explore her curiosity and try a new thing.
The second thing I learned was that there is a distinct difference between distance running and sprinting. This past fall our son discovered he loved to run cross country. In fact, only after he learned he might be able to run long distances in track did he decide to try.
So I was surprised at the first meet when the coach put him in the 100 M dash and in some relays. I understood that he wanted to get a baseline of the stills of the kids, so we supported our son running sprints. I watched, baffled, as our son's technique and stride completely changed. Instead of the long, effortless stride of his long distance days ( he really is a natural distance runner), on the track we saw our boy take on a unique stance. Suffice it to say that running sprints looked like a strenuous effort to him. By the same token, our daughter who loves to sprint now, has more difficulty with pacing on distances.
Clearly, different races require different skills, and different endurance.
As I've pondered this, I think about a good friend of mine who writes a blog on PTSD -- Post Traumatic Stress Disorder-- it is a fabulous blog, and if you know of someone who has faced traumas it is a great site. (The link is at the bottom of this blog page). My friend addresses the issues as a sprinter, and with good reason. The challenges for someone with PTSD are often intense and require immediate attention. He talks about having a RIT (Rapid Intervention Team) and the effects of PTSD as "Dragon Strikes". So much of it brings to mind shorter (relatively speaking), very intense encounters to face in one's day... like the 100 or 200 M dash. Taking care of oneself in those circumstances requires a specific set of tools and intense energy in the immediate future.
In contrast, I realize that this blog and my own approach to my health issues has been much more like the long-disance runner. Test results (while they can be intense) often take time. Improvement often is measured over weeks or months instead of hours or days. The challenges of living with chronic illness in day to day life requires endurance and a stride that won't wear you out too soon. Some of us are learning the coping skills that it requires to face chronic illness: patience, endurance, balance of one's life, and habits that will build health (often slowly) over time.
Now, there are times when the 'sprinter' in me wants faster results. I want the weight to drop NOW! I want results for such and such a test NOW! I want to see a doctor NOW! And my blogging colleague is teaching me much in his approach to long term care and perspective. None of us are simply sprinter or distance when it comes to challenges, but I think we have both capabilities within us. One part of the other (figuratively speaking) runs better either in the short sprint or the mile.
What are your natural gifts? Are you patient and unfazed by long waits, or do you handle things better when all chaos breaks loose and you're moving 90 miles an hour mentally? In faith, the Lord has given us specific gifts to run the race ahead of us, and to help train those who run alongside us.
Fear not, no matter how you run, the important thing is that you are still learning, still growing, and still 'running' pushing on to the goal. Run this race, and appreciate the gifts you've been given in your own self today.
Dear Lord, you give each of us precious gifts to live our faith no matter what the circumstances. Help us today to appreciate who we are and who you've made us to be. Help us also to learn from those you run this race differently, and help us support them with our own gifts. Amen.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
You want me to do what??
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own insight.
In all your ways acknowledge him and he will make straight your paths." Proverbs 3:5-6
As the were fitting me for a CPAP mask two nights ago, the realization hit me-- I've been through some pretty funky things on this health journey. I've trusted doctors and techs with a lot of power in the hope that I might get well.
You want to put a mask on me at night that will blow air in my lungs to help me sleep, and reminds me of scuba diving? Sure!
You want to strap me to a table, tilt me up to various degrees, put an adrenalin-like substance in my body that will make my heart race and see if I'll pass out? Sure! (Hey, tell me again why that cardioloist is on standby over there....)
You want me to fast for 5 hours and every 30 minutes take blood from my arm, leaving me feeling weak and lousy and finding out that the test was normal later? sure!
You want to put a needle in between the vertebrae in my spine and take out some fluids, the risk of which is that I will have the worst headache and pain of my life to where I won't be able to stand without vomiting, and will have to be in the hospital for 3 days on a caffeine drip and have something called a blood patch on my spine? Sure!
You want to put radioactive materials in my veins and get pictures of what things look like? (can't even remember how many times I've had these kinds of tests done...) Sure!
You want to put a device into my femoral artery and snake it up into my heart to take pictures of my heart? Sure!
There's more, but you get the picture :-) I'm absolutely certain that each of you could add some bizarre test or procedure as well...something that was necessary in diagnosis or treatment, but when you stop to think about it was really very weird.
So, as I'm laying there with the mask on that is pumping air at me (which by the way helped me sleep better, and I can't wait to be hooked up to it at home ) it struck me that I've been very trusting of the doctors and nurses that have ordered my tests and procedures. They have earned my trust, and I have had GREAT docs to work with. But each time, no matter how unusual or uncomfortable the test (yes, I did the tilt-table TWICE!) I trusted that the process would help me get some answers.
Have I been that trusting of God? Honestly, not really...
You want me to stop working because my body is in such distress? No, I don't think so... ( I waited about 6 weeks after my wise and insightful Bishop urged me to take care of my health)
You want me to trust that what is happening here will be useful to your Kingdom, and that you are not through with me yet?
You want me to trust that this wilderness I find myself in is a place where you are still very much with me? yeah...having a hard time with that some days.
Why is it I will trust strangers to do things, but when it comes to trusting the Lord who made me, I hesitate?
Why is it that I will undergo truly uncomfortable things, but when the Lord nudges me to rest and care for myself, I balk?
Why is it that I can trust medical professionals almost without question, but the one who is my Savior and Redeemer gets the brunt of my questions, doubt, fear and anger?
I could come up with all sorts of excuses and reasons that actually sound "reason-able" but the bottom line is still there and still comes at me like the air of the CPAP...I am being called to trust God. On this wilderness where I feel lost many days, and fatigued to the bone...in this place where I feel like I've been knocked from a horse at times, and need encouragement to get up...in this time in my life where I wonder what God could possibly do with a broken one like me, the God who raised Jesus from the dead speaks: "Trust me, dear one. I have given the most precious things I have to rescue you, and I will never leave you. Trust me at least as much as you trust the doctors. I will not desert you, but will show you the way through this wilderness. You are precious to me, and I will not leave you."
Who are we trusting today? Are we willing to risk our faith lives at least as much as we trust and risk our physical lives to doctors and nurses?
"Gracious Lord, you lead us through remarkable things. Today help us to recall the ways we've trusted the medical professionals that have touched our lives, and give us the courage to risk trusting you at least that much. Give us your presence as we move through this wilderness time in our lives. Amen.
In all your ways acknowledge him and he will make straight your paths." Proverbs 3:5-6
As the were fitting me for a CPAP mask two nights ago, the realization hit me-- I've been through some pretty funky things on this health journey. I've trusted doctors and techs with a lot of power in the hope that I might get well.
You want to put a mask on me at night that will blow air in my lungs to help me sleep, and reminds me of scuba diving? Sure!
You want to strap me to a table, tilt me up to various degrees, put an adrenalin-like substance in my body that will make my heart race and see if I'll pass out? Sure! (Hey, tell me again why that cardioloist is on standby over there....)
You want me to fast for 5 hours and every 30 minutes take blood from my arm, leaving me feeling weak and lousy and finding out that the test was normal later? sure!
You want to put a needle in between the vertebrae in my spine and take out some fluids, the risk of which is that I will have the worst headache and pain of my life to where I won't be able to stand without vomiting, and will have to be in the hospital for 3 days on a caffeine drip and have something called a blood patch on my spine? Sure!
You want to put radioactive materials in my veins and get pictures of what things look like? (can't even remember how many times I've had these kinds of tests done...) Sure!
You want to put a device into my femoral artery and snake it up into my heart to take pictures of my heart? Sure!
There's more, but you get the picture :-) I'm absolutely certain that each of you could add some bizarre test or procedure as well...something that was necessary in diagnosis or treatment, but when you stop to think about it was really very weird.
So, as I'm laying there with the mask on that is pumping air at me (which by the way helped me sleep better, and I can't wait to be hooked up to it at home ) it struck me that I've been very trusting of the doctors and nurses that have ordered my tests and procedures. They have earned my trust, and I have had GREAT docs to work with. But each time, no matter how unusual or uncomfortable the test (yes, I did the tilt-table TWICE!) I trusted that the process would help me get some answers.
Have I been that trusting of God? Honestly, not really...
You want me to stop working because my body is in such distress? No, I don't think so... ( I waited about 6 weeks after my wise and insightful Bishop urged me to take care of my health)
You want me to trust that what is happening here will be useful to your Kingdom, and that you are not through with me yet?
You want me to trust that this wilderness I find myself in is a place where you are still very much with me? yeah...having a hard time with that some days.
Why is it I will trust strangers to do things, but when it comes to trusting the Lord who made me, I hesitate?
Why is it that I will undergo truly uncomfortable things, but when the Lord nudges me to rest and care for myself, I balk?
Why is it that I can trust medical professionals almost without question, but the one who is my Savior and Redeemer gets the brunt of my questions, doubt, fear and anger?
I could come up with all sorts of excuses and reasons that actually sound "reason-able" but the bottom line is still there and still comes at me like the air of the CPAP...I am being called to trust God. On this wilderness where I feel lost many days, and fatigued to the bone...in this place where I feel like I've been knocked from a horse at times, and need encouragement to get up...in this time in my life where I wonder what God could possibly do with a broken one like me, the God who raised Jesus from the dead speaks: "Trust me, dear one. I have given the most precious things I have to rescue you, and I will never leave you. Trust me at least as much as you trust the doctors. I will not desert you, but will show you the way through this wilderness. You are precious to me, and I will not leave you."
Who are we trusting today? Are we willing to risk our faith lives at least as much as we trust and risk our physical lives to doctors and nurses?
"Gracious Lord, you lead us through remarkable things. Today help us to recall the ways we've trusted the medical professionals that have touched our lives, and give us the courage to risk trusting you at least that much. Give us your presence as we move through this wilderness time in our lives. Amen.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Getting back up
My apologies for just posting a song yesterday with no intro and no explanation. I had planned to come back after posting it, to say more, but had sick kids and other things to attend to and didn't get back here.
As it worked out, it struck me that perhaps it was a good thing for that song to be out there without any preamble from me, so that you could let it speak to you as it would.
For me, that Toby Mack song always seems to come on the radio on the days I'm feeling lost and tired in this territory of Chronic illness. In many ways, this territory is similar to the transition territory that I'd work with in congregations (but I'll expand on THAT piece in a series of blog articles coming up). As an interim pastor, I learned early on that everyone has times they feel like they've fallen "off the horse" ...or been thrown from it. In chronic illness that may be a sudden unexpected diagnosis, a relapse, or the accumulation of days or weeks of the fatigue and stress of daily life.
Whether in transitions or in health, we always have a choice. We can lay there once we've been thrown, or we can get up. That sounds simple, doesn't it? It is not. Getting up takes courage. Getting up can mean trying something new; it can mean starting the next day fresh even if we don't have new ideas; it can mean choosing to approach life with an attitude of curiousity and vigor even if our bodies don't follow well. It doesn't automatically mean trying every new cure or fighting beyond what our hearts and spirits say is the right path, in fact, "getting back on the horse" for some may mean NOT exploring a new-fangled wellness approach...or it may mean stopping the chemo to live the remaining days to the best one can.
What does it mean to you today to "get back up again"? For me, today, it means recommitting to the things I know have proven to make me feel better, and be persistant with them.
I could speak to a lot of the phrases in the song, but I'd like to hear if something touched your heart or spirit. When you feel exhausted and perhaps even lost, what do you need to hear?
I'd like to hear your thoughts and comments. And I will be back tomorrow morning...writing again :-)
peace,
Andrea
As it worked out, it struck me that perhaps it was a good thing for that song to be out there without any preamble from me, so that you could let it speak to you as it would.
For me, that Toby Mack song always seems to come on the radio on the days I'm feeling lost and tired in this territory of Chronic illness. In many ways, this territory is similar to the transition territory that I'd work with in congregations (but I'll expand on THAT piece in a series of blog articles coming up). As an interim pastor, I learned early on that everyone has times they feel like they've fallen "off the horse" ...or been thrown from it. In chronic illness that may be a sudden unexpected diagnosis, a relapse, or the accumulation of days or weeks of the fatigue and stress of daily life.
Whether in transitions or in health, we always have a choice. We can lay there once we've been thrown, or we can get up. That sounds simple, doesn't it? It is not. Getting up takes courage. Getting up can mean trying something new; it can mean starting the next day fresh even if we don't have new ideas; it can mean choosing to approach life with an attitude of curiousity and vigor even if our bodies don't follow well. It doesn't automatically mean trying every new cure or fighting beyond what our hearts and spirits say is the right path, in fact, "getting back on the horse" for some may mean NOT exploring a new-fangled wellness approach...or it may mean stopping the chemo to live the remaining days to the best one can.
What does it mean to you today to "get back up again"? For me, today, it means recommitting to the things I know have proven to make me feel better, and be persistant with them.
I could speak to a lot of the phrases in the song, but I'd like to hear if something touched your heart or spirit. When you feel exhausted and perhaps even lost, what do you need to hear?
I'd like to hear your thoughts and comments. And I will be back tomorrow morning...writing again :-)
peace,
Andrea
Monday, May 2, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Yes! Yes! Yes!!!
"Child of God, you are sealed with the Holy Spirit and marked with the Cross of Christ forever."
Service of Baptism- Lutheran Hymnal
Today our eldest will be Confirmed. I am very proud of her, and very excited about the service. Later this morning she will stand up and in front of God and everybody, affirm her baptism. In other words, she is going to say "Yes" to the God who first said "Yes" to her life.
When I was teaching Catechism, I would explain that Confirmation is not a graduation, but an affirmation of what God has already done. Part of the way I understand Baptism is that in the waters and the Word, God reaches out to us, to claim us as his own precious child. God acts first by saying "YES! You are my child, and I call you my own. Yes! To your life! Yes ! To your potential! YES! YES! YES! TO YOU!"
As you can see, I think Baptism is a pretty amazing event in one's life...and it was in my own, even though I was too young to remember. However, the understanding that God loves me enough to want me and choose me in Baptism is something that has sustained me in the darkest, most difficult times. Baptism was the promise that God loves me and believes in me even when no one else does. Even when I can't believe in myself, or even love myself-- God still loves and chooses me.
So today I get to witness my 14 year old daughter chose to love God right back. It is an important commitment. It is easy to see the potential in our dear daughter. I find it easy to love her, as she was a gift from God and she's downright amazing. (by the by...our 10 year old son is also a gift from God, and downright amazing in his own right :-) So to see this young woman we love commit to follow and love God right back... to say YES! back to God...well it does this weary, old mom's heart a world of good.
I share this all with you not just because I'm an uber-proud mama, but because it is days like today that remind us all that God HAS chosen us as well. God has already said YES! to you, by giving you life, and if you are baptised, by the adoption through those waters. God loves you first, not because of what you have done or what you will become, but God loves you for who you are, right now, this minute. God is saying YES! to your life and God believes in you.
Every morning we have the opportunity to choose what we will believe, what we will do, and whom we will follow. Every morning we get to say YES! back to the God who already calls us by name, and who says YES to us.
Abba, you call us by name. You shaped us tenderly and knew us before we were born. You have affirmed and believed in us before anyone else did. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Help our lives be lived as a YES! right back to you. Amen.
Service of Baptism- Lutheran Hymnal
Today our eldest will be Confirmed. I am very proud of her, and very excited about the service. Later this morning she will stand up and in front of God and everybody, affirm her baptism. In other words, she is going to say "Yes" to the God who first said "Yes" to her life.
When I was teaching Catechism, I would explain that Confirmation is not a graduation, but an affirmation of what God has already done. Part of the way I understand Baptism is that in the waters and the Word, God reaches out to us, to claim us as his own precious child. God acts first by saying "YES! You are my child, and I call you my own. Yes! To your life! Yes ! To your potential! YES! YES! YES! TO YOU!"
As you can see, I think Baptism is a pretty amazing event in one's life...and it was in my own, even though I was too young to remember. However, the understanding that God loves me enough to want me and choose me in Baptism is something that has sustained me in the darkest, most difficult times. Baptism was the promise that God loves me and believes in me even when no one else does. Even when I can't believe in myself, or even love myself-- God still loves and chooses me.
So today I get to witness my 14 year old daughter chose to love God right back. It is an important commitment. It is easy to see the potential in our dear daughter. I find it easy to love her, as she was a gift from God and she's downright amazing. (by the by...our 10 year old son is also a gift from God, and downright amazing in his own right :-) So to see this young woman we love commit to follow and love God right back... to say YES! back to God...well it does this weary, old mom's heart a world of good.
I share this all with you not just because I'm an uber-proud mama, but because it is days like today that remind us all that God HAS chosen us as well. God has already said YES! to you, by giving you life, and if you are baptised, by the adoption through those waters. God loves you first, not because of what you have done or what you will become, but God loves you for who you are, right now, this minute. God is saying YES! to your life and God believes in you.
Every morning we have the opportunity to choose what we will believe, what we will do, and whom we will follow. Every morning we get to say YES! back to the God who already calls us by name, and who says YES to us.
Abba, you call us by name. You shaped us tenderly and knew us before we were born. You have affirmed and believed in us before anyone else did. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Help our lives be lived as a YES! right back to you. Amen.
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