Pull up a chair, let's talk

On a Facebook page recently, there was a question - "When you meet God, how will you introduce yourself?"  I believe the question came from a book.  Since I haven't read the book and don't know the context of the question, I took the question at face value.  I was reading through the comments and thinking about my own reaction when I realized "that'll blog".

I believe God will know me when we meet, and I believe I will know God when the time comes, so I don't know that I will introduce myself.  Or, maybe I will say, "God, it's nice to see you face to face...now I have some questions."

I would like to sit and chat with God about those things which perplex me.  I would like to chat with God about all the things we God-followers say God stands for and really hear what God has to say.  I would like to know what God's true stance is on all the hot button topics - and would like the chance to say "A-ha!  I KNEW it!" but that's my ego talking. I would like to chat with God about the big picture, about the hard stuff that I've dealt with, the loss, the hurt, the confusion, the emptiness and the longing.  I would like to chat with God about that verse in Psalms - the desires of your heart one - and then unfold what the desires of my heart really were as opposed to my brain conjured desires.  I have a hard time telling the difference between the two sometimes.

I would like to ask God about the roads I've taken, the choices I've made and where I could have taken a different path.  I'm merely curious at what God would have done differently.

I would like to ask the silly questions:
- Why mosquito's?
- For that matter - black widows - rattlesnakes - scorpions - you get the picture.
- Which came first, the chicken or the egg?
- What was the fruit on the tree of knowledge?

There are tougher questions.  Questions that come up when I am in low spots, when I'm wondering what life is really all about.  Questions that plague me when things happen and people make remarks that fly in the face of my experiences of what is deemed God's nature.  Questions that will remain between me and God.

Yes, I have a lot of questions for God, from the silly to the serious.

I've had people tell me that when I meet God, I won't really want to ask any questions.  To which I silently say, "Thanks for pointing out how ridiculous I seem to you.  I'll stop talking now."  That doesn't stop me from having questions...and from hoping that when we meet, the God I follow would look at me, after my initial approach, and say, "Pull up a chair, let's talk."

Blue Christmas - A reaction to a Facebook thread

Every once in a while something will trigger a reaction I did not anticipate.  I try not to be a reactionary person, but rather one who takes a step back from my reactions and examines the whole situation before moving forward.  What this means is that in conversations or places where I can leave a comment, I don't say anything.  Many times, my initial reaction will be off the charts ridiculous and it's better that I didn't say/write anything at all.  Sometimes, though, my reactions are sound and deserve to be aired, however long it takes.

When I was still working for Old Church, I became aware of a service that some churches hold around Christmas called "Blue Christmas".  Some call it the service "The Longest Night of the Year".  I prefer Blue Christmas.  The premise of this service, as I understand it, is to offer a time in the midst of the Christmas season, to remember, to contemplate, to acknowledge that for some people the Christmas season isn't a happy, joyous occasion.  I broached the subject of a Blue Christmas service with Old Church staff and it went nowhere.  At that point in time, I wasn't willing to push the envelope and yet I was constantly mindful that though the season of Christmas, for Christ followers, is celebrating the birth of new life in the form of a baby named Jesus, not everyone could embrace the celebration...even Christ followers.  The deaths, literal and metaphorical, in their lives simply swamped them and the joy of the season was muted.

A friend of mine, Ralphie, participated in a Blue Christmas service last year.  He and LN invited me to attend.  I had other things happening and couldn't, but this year, oh this year, I have been anticipating that service with a ferocity.  I need to be able to sit, in the midst of the joy of the Christmas season, and allow the pain and sorrow of this last year to surface.  I need the church universal to stand with me in my grief and pain and give me a space, with Christmas decorations all around, to allow the tears to flow and my heart to grieve the loss of my Dad.  (Of course, it will probably be held on the weekend that I have planned to be out of town but still, if I'm around, I'M THERE!)

Awhile back, in a group I am a part of on FB, a thread was started about Blue Christmas services and among the comments was one that triggered a reaction.  A very strong reaction.  I shut down FB, walked away from the computer and cried.  I don't believe the comment wasn't meant for harm, simply an observation from one person's perspective.  In that moment, however, I was thrown back into a state of wondering why I do church anymore.  

My reaction wasn't rational, yet at the same time there is an element that I believe church folks need to hear and be reminded of, as we approach the season of Christmas.   I can only speak from my perspective and so I offer my truth this Christmas season.  I love Jesus, I love the Christmas season and yet I'm going to have trouble finding joy this Christmas.

Please don't deny, belittle or otherwise make light of those who aren't joyful this Christmas season.  For it isn't Jesus' birth that makes us sad, it's the life and love we find and lose on this earth that brings sorrow, heartache and grief.  Yes, there is joy in Jesus and yes, there is joy in Christmas but the reality of life means we also deal with the reality of loss.  In diminishing or otherwise denying that reality, we risk alienating the very people who need us the most this Christmas season.

Ralphie asked if I would be willing to sing with him at the Blue Christmas service this year, a song that we had sung together three years ago at a joy-filled Christmas celebration.  I answered honestly, I'm not sure that I will be able to sing.  But, if I'm in town, I will pull out my guitar and play as he sings.  I will allow the words to penetrate my grief-stricken heart and give myself the space to be sad in a season of joy and take comfort in a body of believers who recognize "through all my tears, for what I've lost, there's still my joy for Christmas day."

http://youtu.be/qGLA3QNEyVA

Grief check-up

Walking this path of grief, I'm always aware that my path is unique to me.  What I need, isn't what other's need.  What turns me off and makes me want to run away screaming, may be comforting and helpful to other people.  It's helpful to write down what it is I need, don't need, sometimes need and what I have to offer at the moment, so here goes.

Here's what I need:

• People to listen to me or read what I write.
• People who will simply pray or think of me throughout the day.
• Virtual hugs...RevGals introduced me to this one.  It's simple. Take a persons name and insert it into parentheses, such as ((Brittany)).  I dig those.
• Little simple notes "thinking of you", "love you", etc.  Or in the case of one friend, inappropriate text Fridays.  =)
• A lot of grace and understanding.  It's hard just to get up in the morning.  All I want to do is hide away from the world.  I'm working, really working, at being open and available but oh gosh, it's hard 'cuz I am wrung out emotionally.  I find myself exhausted at the end of the week, just from going to work each day and being "on".  My introverted tendencies are now swamped by the emotional overload of grief...it's just a tough time in life.

Here's what I don't need:

• Reassurance of God's presence...I'm fully aware of God's presence.  I'm not mad at God and I don't feel abandoned by God...y'all can stand down.
• To be told the details of your prayers.
• Detailed stories from your own walk with grief.
• Reassurance that "this too will pass"...yeah, that one isn't good.
• Scripture verses quoted.

Here's what I sometimes need:

• Physical Hugs.  This one is tough.  I've found that my inner sensitivity levels are interlinked to physical touch, if that makes sense at all.  Sometimes I am good with hugs and sometimes, wow, sometimes I really just don't want to be touched because I will come undone.

Here's what I can offer others right now:

• Not a lot.
• Honesty, but only if I deem you trustworthy or really willing to accept what I have to say...even then, I'm finding I don't have much to lose these days...either that or I don't have much of a guard/shield/filter in place.
• Tears on demand.
• Watery smiles.
• Sincere gratitude for those walking beside me.  

Holy Conversations

A couple Saturday's ago I met with a friend for coffee.  It's a regular occurrence, usually at the same place and the conversation takes whatever path it needs.  I look forward to these coffee times, simply because I leave feeling loved and centered again.  Most times there are three or four of us who meet together.  We sit outside and watch the crazy drivers and near miss accidents.  We talk, we laugh, we commiserate, we share life together and it is good.

Last Friday, I will met with a different friend, at a different coffee shop for an entirely different conversation.  Our political and theological viewpoints are on much the same level.  I will left that conversation feeling, again, loved and centered but also like I am not alone in my view of what it means to be a Christ follower in this world.

On Monday evenings for a few months at a time, I gather with a group of friends around a television for a couple of hours, as we watch people make fools of themselves.  Those two hours are filled with snarky comments, yummy snacks, times of checking in with each other and a lot of laughter.  Most Mondays, the majority of the group leaves one by one until there are just a few of us left and we break into serious conversations about life.  I leave those conversations feeling, loved, accepted and understood...and centered.

Are you seeing the theme?

With each person, each group, each conversation there is an element of faith, a discussion of belief and at some point a revelation.  Sometimes they are major revelations, sometimes they are minor.  Saturday's coffee conversation reoriented my outlook on my career at the this moment in time.  Monday evenings conversations reminded me of the good of being known by others. Friday's conversation brought much needed laughter and understanding to my weary soul. Each revelation comes through a conversation.  A holy conversation.  I am grateful for those who speak and those who listen.  I am grateful for the conversations.  I am grateful for the revelations.  I am grateful for the people with whom I meet and the love, acceptance, centered, life confirming, hope that comes through these holy conversations.

I pray, this week, that you may have a holy conversation, where God shows up even if you don't recognize God's presence until much, much later.

What I've been up to lately, part 2

Sometimes God and I have trouble together.  Sometimes the challenges, burdens, responsibilities God places on my shoulders are ones I would rather just dump under the table and leave alone.  As much as I try to offload the responsibilities, they just keep hanging around the back of my brain.  I can't escape them.  I really want to but I just can't get away from them.

One of the roles I continually find myself in is what I will call "Woman capable of doing more than some men think she can".  Think Rosie the Riveter.  (Note, I said some men, not all men think this way.)  In this role I am constantly pushing up against the boundaries of those who think that women can't _____________  you can fill in the blank.

In late March, I'll be joining up with 30 high school students and 15 adults, heading to Moore, Oklahoma to do tornado relief work.  If you have been around this blog before, you will know I am not unfamiliar with disaster relief work.  In fact, this will be my 16th work trip specifically for disaster relief.  On these trips I have learned how to build ramps, dig post holes, cement posts, lay flooring, tear up flooring, sheet rock/tape/mud, use a nail gun (under duress), use a screw gun, use a skill saw, use a sawzall, build a fence, oh, and put up and tear down scaffolding and so much more.  I happen to seriously love my steel toed boots, jeans and sweatshirts.  I've been known to do my fair share of swearing at posts that somehow turn after they've been cemented in or when I measure for electric boxes, cut the sheet rock and am off just enough to cause a problem.  So, when heading into trips, such as the one to Moore, and leaders on the trip say things like "Have you told them we have 18 girls on the trip?", the inference being the girls are unable to accomplish things the boys can, my blood boileth over.

I don't want to start a war.  I don't desire to be labeled "that feminist".  Yet, here I stand ready to take on the battle because I know the girls CAN.  They can use the nail gun, the screw gun, the skill saw.  They can dig post holes and put up sheet rock and build ramps.  They can learn about how to frame a house or rough in electrical wires.  They can roof, they can pour cement, THEY CAN!  Sure, it might take longer.  Yes, they aren't always capable of lifting super heavy items but please, just because they are girls, don't discount their abilities to succeed.  In fact, most young women who are on work sites are there because they WANT to learn and they WANT to help people.  By discounting their willingness to learn and what abilities they may have, sends a big message...a message I don't want to have anything to do with.

The other day Yo Momma asked one of the neighbors if they were building a deck, as they had piles of wood and what looked to be the beginnings of a deck by their house.  Turns out our 12 year old neighbor girl and her dad are building a play house.  We can just see the foundation of the playhouse going up now from our kitchen window.  It's awesome.  She is going to learn how to swing a hammer, how to measure, the importance of having a level foundation and so much more.  What a gift to a young girl, to empower her to learn something new, go into territory that has been seen primarily as "men's work" and potentially tap into a talent she would never have found before.  Plus, what a bonding experience between a daughter and her dad!

As I head into the trip to Moore, Oklahoma, as we gather for team training and gather as leaders, I hear God's voice so clearly, telling me to be an example, to keep urging others to empower, equip and encourage the young women in our midst, to help them dream new dreams, tap into strengthens they never knew they had and be willing to take on tasks others say they can't do.  It's a voice some would and will argue with but I believe it is God's voice nonetheless.

We leaders are creating an opportunity for the young people on this trip to learn and grow, to serve and create, to find new strengths and gain knowledge.  So let's give ALL of them the opportunity.  There may be a young woman on this trip who suddenly realizes she likes to figure out angles and how pieces fit together.  There may be a young woman who finds out she loves creating things with wood, there just may be a future carpenter in the group...but we never know until we give the young women on our team a chance.

It's a mystery

The Internet told me recently the identity of the "tips for Jesus" person has been revealed.  The news made me a little sad.  I really don't want to know who was going around leaving enormous tips for waiters and waitresses across the country.  It simply didn't matter.  I liked the mystery, the thought that there was someone out there doing something nice for others without needing recognition.

A few years ago I was given an anonymous gift of money.  It was significant and beautiful and as much as my curiosity was on high alert, I didn't need to know who had given the money to me.  I wrote a Thank You note, gave it to the person who did know and allowed the mystery to remain.

Several years earlier another gift had been given, to the church.  A very rundown room was all of a sudden furnished with beautiful furniture.  It was lovely.  The donors wanted to remain anonymous.  10 years later there were still people trying to figure out who had given the furniture to the church.

There are debates being waged left and right about what God thinks and who is "in" and whose "out", the hierarchy of sins and on and on and on...I wonder, sometimes, if we aren't seeking answers to things that will remain a mystery until we are face to face with God.  Answers that we, in our humanness, really* need to figure out but answers we may never have a black or white answer to because  God is mighty, powerful, compassionate, grace-filled and mysterious**.

I think I have things figured out and then I read the Bible again and everything gets flipped upside down.  I see a verse or a word I had never seen before and I am suddenly rethinking my stance. I look forward to asking God some serious questions (and please, don't tell me that I won't want to ask questions when I, hopefully, meet God...I have questions!!  Yes, mosquito's top the list.)  Until that time, I am perfectly okay with there just not being clear answers to some questions.  I am okay with the mystery.

*At least that is what we tell ourselves because we humans need to set limits.  I'm not convinced God sets as many limits.
**This is a non-exhaustive list of the qualities I have experienced with and know of God.  Feel free to add your own in as you read.

Every so often I feel the need to say the following...

I believe in a God of mystery.

I believe in a God who's love knows no human bounds.

I believe that each person has access to God.

I believe that God works in the lives of people who believe and don't believe in God...because God so loves.

I believe that no matter how hard I try, I cannot be God.

I cannot judge a persons soul,

faith,

commitment to,

or understanding of God,

without being judged myself...and probably most likely be found lacking all of the above.

I believe God knows a heck of a lot more than I do

and I believe that when I try to deny another persons faith because they don't believe in God or follow God the same way I do, I am the hypocrite, the Pharisee, the one lacking faith in a BIG, AMAZING, MYSTERIOUS GOD.



P.S.  This list of "I believes" is not limitless or even finished because I also believe that my faith, my understanding and my belief in God is an ever evolving story...check back this list will change at some point in the future.  =)

Six words in

I was on a website recently that had a job board.  I was curious, so I clicked on the job board.  An opening immediately jumped out to me.  "I could do this!  I would LOVE this!" My heart picked up a beat and I didn't even flinch at the location of the job.  I clicked the link.

Six words in I stopped reading.  Six words in.

I understand their position.  I don't agree with their position but I understand it to a point.  I keep coming back to this.  I did not ask to be equipped with the gifts and talents I've been equipped with.  I did not ask for the opportunities I have been given.  All of those things, God gave to me or called me to.  I did not one day wake up and decide to thumb my nose at a few verses in the Bible that say "a woman must not..." because I thought it would be fun.  I followed God.  I am still following God.

So, to the church back east with a position open which caught my attention and started to fan the flame of excitement and possibility in my soul, well, I wish you well as you seek your man.  This woman will keep her eyes open and keep following God's leading.  Obviously, that wasn't one.

Dear fellow Christ Followers,

Can we please place a moratorium on assuming that we know the depths of another person's faith?  Can we please stop making pronouncements on places such as blogs and "spacehook" and comments on newspaper articles or magazine articles that basically say that no matter what a person may SAY about their beliefs, we will not believe them because they don't operate the way we think the should operate.  Or they don't say the things we think they should say if they truly do profess faith and so we say things to discount their faith.

It's tiring, it's belittling and it says a whole heck of a lot more about our lack of faith in a really big God who can do amazingly big things to say that someone whose ideals look different than ours isn't a Christ follower.  Instead of talking with someone, getting to know them, spending time with them, investing in their life, many times we sit on the sidelines, judging from afar, never really interacting with another person and really getting to know where they are in the matter of belief and faith.

This tendency is magnified a million times over when the person we are sitting in judgment of is a celebrity or someone in the media spotlight.  So, until I sit down in a conversation with the President of the United States, the Queen of England or any other person in power or in the celebrity spotlight, I will take them at their word in regards to their beliefs in a higher power.  I refuse to be one of those Christ Followers who sits in judgment of another persons faith without really knowing that person...and yes, while you are judging others for this very reason, I will be judging you for judging them. 

Sincerely,

Really not perfect, unjustly judgmental (at times) and willing to admit it Brittany

On wrestling

^{Genesis 32: 22} That night Jacob got up and took his two wives, his two female servants and his eleven sons and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. ²³ After he had sent them across the stream, he sent over all his possessions. ²⁴ So Jacob was left alone,and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. ²⁵ When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. ²⁶ Then the man said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.”

But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

²⁷ The man asked him, “What is your name?”

“Jacob,” he answered.

²⁸ Then the man said, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel,^[f] because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome.”

²⁹ Jacob said, “Please tell me your name.”

But he replied, “Why do you ask my name?” Then he blessed him there.

³⁰ So Jacob called the place Peniel,^[g] saying, “It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.”

³¹ The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel,^[h] and he was limping because of his hip. ³² Therefore to this day the Israelites do not eat the tendon attached to the socket of the hip, because the socket of Jacob’s hip was touched near the tendon.

This passage of Genesis has fascinated me for a long time.  I've read it with different lenses, first reading in awe of a God who would come to earth and wrestle with Jacob.  Another in awe of Jacob who doesn't back down but continues to wrestle and demand a blessing.  Another reading had me shaking my head at a God who needs to "cheat" in order to make a point.  I don't fully understand this story in many ways and yet, on a soul level, this story brings me hope.

The wrestling part of the story is what brings me hope.  I have a hard time with the belief that questioning, wrestling, doubting and struggling with God is a bad thing.  As I have grown in my faith and my belief in God, I have gone through many, many moments of questioning, of doubting of struggling and wrestling.  My faith not only has remained, in most cases it has gotten stronger.  I need to know that God not only honors my struggles of faith but meets me right where I am and loves me anyway.
 
This last week, I sat talking with a friend...okay, honestly it was more like I walked in the door, he said "how are you?" and for the next 1/2 hour I shared way more than that one little question warranted...and had a few things pointed out to me, by my friend and by God.  Things I needed to hear, that needed to be realized and now that they are out in the open (what? you think I'm going to tell you what they are??  Sorry, this space used to be a safe zone...it is no longer.) I can clearly see that I've been wrestling with God.  Not willing to back down but demanding the blessing while I'm wrestling...and I am going to have a limp for awhile because, well, sometimes God "cheats".

Speaking for God

I don't like labels.  I use labels, I am labeled, I don't like labels.  Labels do not tell the true story of who I am, who others are.  It's just a name, a way to group people, things, together to help our human brains make sense of the world around us.

Still, there are labels attached to me.  One of those labels is "Christian", though I prefer the label "Christ Follower".  Still, in that label there is a connotation that I need to recognize and take seriously.  That label says I follow Jesus, I believe in God and to some extent it says my life, my actions, my words represent God and Jesus.  I am still a flawed human being.  My words, my actions, my life don't always reflect the God and Jesus I follow.  I mess up regularly.  I am not God.  I am not Jesus.  Yet with my life, my words, my actions I speak for God.

I am tired of hearing others with the label Christian stand up after horrific events happen in the world and say things such as "God is pouring out judgment" or "It's because we've taken God out of our society" or "God is rejoicing".  I am tired of these people being the ones I see on my homepage when I open my web browser.

I am tired of hearing about God's judgment and how awful we are and how we are all turning our backs on God from people "in the know" (IMHO, that means they have access to the media and they use it).  I am tired of the condemnation and the lack of compassion or LOVE.  I am tired of Christians speaking for God when all they can say is "You are bad.  You are awful."  T.I.R.E.D.

That rhetoric is turning people away from God.  Turning them away from a God that, I believe, grieves alongside the mothers and father and brothers and sisters and grandparents and friends.  Saying "You turned your back, now deal with the consequences" is heartless and (yep, here comes my judgment) says a lot about the heart of the person speaking.

Absolutely, we live in a fallen world.  Crap happens, it is horrific and many times the answers to the question "why" are so hard to find, if we find them at all.  Yet into that fallen, broken world God sent Jesus.  God sent Jesus into the world to be love.  To be hope.  To bring a message of love and hope.  God hasn't given up on the world.

So, I am going to speak for God right now.  To the families, to the community, to the nation, in this most recent horrific nightmare please hear from this broken, human woman with the label Christ Follower, the questions are large and looming and though it may seem like God does not care, God does care.  God is near and grieving along with you.  I don't know why God didn't stop it.  There are many times when I don't understand God but I do know this, the God I follow loves you and hurts with you.

Life and faith these days

I woke up this morning about 4am to a cracking and crashing sound followed by the beep*beep*beep of the answering machine as the power flickered and went out.  I lay there wondering just how far away that cracking and crashing sound was and just then lay there wondering how I was going to get my hair into "office" style  that day if the power was still out when I was supposed to be getting ready for work two hours later.  Of course, I was then awake and unable to go back to sleep and it was dark, REALLY dark in my house.  I turned on my cell phone to use as a flashlight (which is also how I knew it was 4am), found my flashlight and tried to read myself to sleep.  It worked...at 5:40am when the power came back on and my alarm was set to go off 20 minutes later.  Why does that ALWAYS happen?

Before I got out of bed though, in search of the flashlight, I lay there listening to the sound of silence.  It's amazing how much sound there is in electricity.  When the power went out the air seemed to go completely still.  I didn't hear any sirens from emergency vehicles or sounds of helicopters signaling a life-flight situation, so I lay there just listening to the silence, relishing the pitch black darkness of night.  The stillness of the night was palpable bringing with it mystery and strangely, peace.  Except for the puzzlement of how I was going to dry my hair, I was peaceful laying there in the silence and dark.

Over the weekend I joined 38 women on a retreat in the mountains.  It's about 5 miles up a canyon road and there was no cell phone signal by the time I reached the camp.  There was no Internet access either.  It was good.

I was there to lead music for the retreat.  For a few weeks before I had been going through worship songs, picking out, organizing and revamping songs that I had sung with the worship team at Old Church for years.  There were a few songs I really wanted to sing but I knew the women wouldn't know them, so they went back in the folder.  Friday night I stood with my guitar and a microphone and the PowerPoint presentation of songs and lead in singing.  It was good.  I wasn't perfect.  They didn't know all the songs.  By the time we were done I felt like a door had opened again in my heart.

My journey of faith has been winding, sometimes steep, sometimes meandering along streams of water that have quenched my thirsty soul.  I have walked along some steep cliffs with huge drop offs and many times I have fallen.  There have been times when I have wandered in the desert, in circles, struggling with the mirages and the longings for water, cool air and rest.  This is the wonder, the mystery, the journey of faith I have come to know as I have walked with Jesus.

Lately, this path of faith has reflected my experience of laying in the dark last night, the silence has been palpable, mysterious, the darkness has been dark.  There hasn't been peace, so much, there's just been a lot of silence, a muted kind of existence.  I haven't been unhappy, I haven't been overly happy, I have just existed.  Lying the dark, listening to the silence, a muted kind of existence.

As I led music, the words began to niggle and nudge my soul.  As I listened to the speaker and watched her form pots from clay, reflecting on how the clay goes from a lump to something beautiful, I connected with the process and began to see myself on this journey of faith, I began to see myself in that lump of clay.  I began to see light.

The sun came up this morning, somewhere between 4am and 6:15am when I got up.  The power came back on and my "office" hair was styled.  The hum of electricity could be heard again, covering up the silence.  I headed for work, going about my day but the lingering effects of my 4am wake up have followed me all day.  The lingering effects of a weekend women's retreat have followed me as well.  The lingering effects of a journey of faith that has been on a very dark, quiet road has followed me, or should I say, I've followed it.  This journey of faith continues on, with maybe a bit more sun and the smallest of sounds beginning to penetrate the palpable silence and darkest of darkness.  I don't know where I'm going but I know who I'm following and really, that's all that matters.

I just can't stay silent

**This post has been sitting in my "drafts" for months now.  Most of it was written back in February.  As a Christ Follower who believes that God has given me a mind and heart and that I need to use both of them, I just can't stay silent any longer.**

My parents raised me in such a way that I never really thought that there were things that a woman couldn't do that a man could. (There are definitely things I don't WANT to do but I can still do them.  Thus, I found myself taking apart the deck, a couple of months ago, and dealing with the dead rodent under the deck.  Yuck, yuck, yuck.) Yes, Yo Momma did all the cooking but Papa Bear was very good about cleaning (his nickname is Mr. Clean).  Yo Momma stayed home with Lil Bro and I until we went to school all day and then she got a part time job.  They both did their fair share of discipline and I never once heard Papa Bear talk down to Yo Momma, like she was a second rate citizen.  I went to a church where women had leadership roles, the larger church included women in Pastoral leadership roles, and I was always, always encouraged to chase whatever dream I wanted to chase.
 
One summer I wrote a letter to the editor of the newspaper in the Bay Area.  I think they were doing a series on "Hot Topics" and I wrote in about one in particular.  My letter was published for the world to read, my thoughts in print.  My parents were proud.  Our family was out of town the weekend my letter was published.  I remember driving to the local store that carried that particular paper to buy a copy and Yo Momma and I deciding not to let the extended family that was there see the paper with my letter.  We just didn't want to get into the conversation.

The other night I was with a bunch of my young adult friends and the conversation of politics came up, as it always does.  There were two in the room of eight that don't necessarily agree with the rest of us.  Those conversations, I always feel like we're walking such a fine line between listening to the other opinion and disrespect.  I usually try to avoid the conversations as much as possible.  I have opinions, I have convictions, I just don't want to get into the conversation.

I've been listening to conversations in which the rights of women are seemingly being chipped away, one by one.  I feel like this country is taking huge leaps backwards when it comes to the equality of women.  I don't want to get into the conversations...I cannot stay silent any longer.

• I am tired of women continuing to be belittled, criticized and harangued for living their lives in the best way they see fit.   Whether that be a stay-at-home-mom, a working mom, a single mom, a single woman, I'm tired of women having to defend their life decisions.
• I'm tired of the conversation in churches that continues to tell women that they should be silent or that they are just baby machines and should know their place.  
• I'm tired of the conversation that says that women should subject themselves to whatever a man requires of them, because of that verse in the Bible that says a woman should "submit" to her husband.  Why don't we focus on the verses that follow as much?  The one's about men loving their wives as Christ loved the church.
• I'm tired of the double standard that says men can have sex with multiple women, but a woman who has sex with more than one man is a whore.  
• I'm tired of women being denied birth control because of their religious affiliations or who they work for.  
• I'm tired of the discussion about abortion, especially in the church, when: A.) there is strong resistant to educating people on how to use or allowing access to birth control; B.) we continue to criticize and demean women and their families who work hard and still struggle to put food on the table and need a little help to make it through life; C.) there are children in our foster care system that are desperate for families to shower them love and attention, right now.  Where are the people in the church for those children? (and I know some amazing church people who ARE there for kids in the foster care system and are walking their talk)  D.) We make it so hard and expensive to adopt children.
• I'm tired of the line of rhetoric that says all people on welfare are druggies or low-life's or not working hard.  It's simply not true.
• I'm tired of being told that my voice really shouldn't be heard in the church because of my gender.  As I told a friend recently, I didn't choose to be in church leadership, God CALLED me to church leadership.  Time after time, God put me in positions of leadership in the church, even when I was resisting,  If you want to argue, argue with God, stop talking to me.
• I'm tired of women being rated as second class citizens who can't make wise decisions and choices because they are missing an appendage.  
• I'm tired of women (and men) who have been violated physically, emotionally and mentally by rape, being violated, yet again, by people running for a political office.   

Actually, when it comes right down to it, I'm tired of the party lines.  I'm tired of hearing how one side is right and the other side is wrong..and I mean that about both of the top political parties.  It seems to me the people whom the conversations focused on are the one's who are the losers across the board...because who is actually listening to them?

Patience

Patience is a virtue.  All these years of my life, I figured that phrase was in the Bible.  It's not...exactly.  It's in there in ways, alluded to in Scripture, but those four words do not appear together, that I can find!

Never-the-less, patience is something that God doled out to me.  Or maybe it's a combination of compassion and patience.  There are times when I am definitely impatient.  Waiting at red lights when I'm late...definitely impatient.  Waiting for an appointment when I was right on time and the one I have the appointment with is chronically late...definitely impatient.  Waiting for someone to do something on the computer when I know I could do it in half the time...definitely impatient.  I try not to show that impatience and exude grace instead.  Sometimes it works.

Still, patience is something that I have been given by God, as apparent when I'm with people who didn't get the full gift of patience.  I've been with many a person in a restaurant who get very impatient when their needs aren't taken care of within a given amount of time.  Then they get critical and my enjoyment of the experience takes a nose dive.  Sometimes, yes, sometimes the complaints are valid.  Many times, the complaints border on selfish.

I think that's the deal, for me, with patience.  There's a certain level of selfishness that comes into play.  When we are asked to be patient, we are asked to put our wants and need, our selfishness aside.  It's hard to be patient when we WANT something, really, really bad.  It's hard to be patient when things aren't going our way.  It's hard to be patient when we know we could do things differently and it would go better.  We want to hurry things along.  There are moments when we can step in, when we can push the agenda and get what we want or need.  Yet, what I have experienced in my Christ-walk has been over and over and over again the small voice of God saying "Wait".  

I want to know what tomorrow is going to bring.  God says, "Wait."

I want to have answers to questions.  God says, "Wait."

I want resolution to a situation.  God says, "Wait."

The gift of patience means that I wait.  I may complain a little.  I may whine.  I may get restless and shift back and forth and back and forth in my chair but by-in-large I wait.

A year ago I was beginning the waiting process.  I had quit my job with nothing on the horizon but God's promise that my work was done where I had been, that there was no place for me there anymore and the knowledge that now as the time to fly.  So I flew and landed...and waited.  That was a tough stretch of time.  There were moments when I was sure I had heard God wrong, that I had made the wrong choice and every time I asked God said, "Wait."  Eventually the next thing came along but still, as I accomplish and learn more, as I make new connections and pay the bills, still I know that I am being asked to wait.  There is more to come.  My timing isn't the one that is important...it's God's timing that is important...and so I wait.


**Side-note:  As I was writing this, I took a break and read an article on Yahoo news and had to laugh.  Here is what I read about an interview with the President and First Lady on The View:

As for Michelle, President Obama said, "She should run for office, but she says she doesn't want to."

"I mean, Michelle would be terrific," he continued, "but temperamentally I just don't think [she could]."

"Yeah, no," the first lady said. "It takes a lot of patience to be the president of the United States, and I'm not that patient."  

By the way, God, I have no desire to be President.  Thanks.

Friday Five--I need Help--Day Five

One way I have helped others:

This post is hitting the wires while I am in the air, flying to the town that captured my heart 7 years ago, Pearlington, Mississippi.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, I am grateful for Hurricane Katrina.  Not for the havoc or the destruction but the opportunity to find a part of myself I never knew existed and the opportunity to meet people I would never have met. 

I love putting on my steel toed boots, jeans and t-shirts and going to work.  I find it challenging and selfless, yet also selfish.  I get something out of helping people rebuild their lives in this tangible way.  I can't put this part of me back into the drawer it came out of.  I can't help but help.

God moves in mysterious ways and while I have a hard time fully accepting a God of chaos and destruction, I know that through chaos and destruction, God changed my life and I found a passion for helping that goes beyond anything I've ever known before.

Friday Five--I need Help, Day Four

Another time when I received help when I didn't want to ask for help:

I love watching little kids try and figure things out on their own.  My niece, Miss P, wants to do EVERYTHING herself, as did Creative Guy and Adventure Boy and all the other kids I've known that are in the age range of 2+.  "I do it!" is a common statement for parents to hear.

"I do it!" is a common statement for God to hear from me.  "I've got it covered.  I don't need extra help.  I don't want to bother God with something so little.  I can handle it."  I've said and/or thought those statements and many more like them for years.  In my relationship with God I tend to say "I do it!" a lot. 

There have been times along the way, though, when I've found myself at the bottom of the proverbial barrel, feeling myself sink deeper and deeper into the pit, sure I wasn't going to find my way out.  Did you hear that?  I said sure I wasn't going to find my way out.  All about me.  Not about God.

Those moments have always pointed out a huge truth.  I need help.  I can't do it alone.  My strength is not enough.  I need God.

Yesterday I was going through a list of questions about God and Christianity some High School students had answered, compiling them into one document.  One of the High School students said they wanted to hear why their youth group leaders believed in God.  They wanted to know what compelled their leaders to believe in God.  I thought about my own answer to that question and one of the answers that came was simply this:  I need God.  I can't do it on my own.  I need the help that comes from prayer, the peace that comes from knowing I don't have to do it on my own, the strength that comes from knowing I am loved, beyond all human understanding...even when I stand at the bottom of the barrel, realizing I, once again, allowed my pride, my stubbornness, my self get in the way and finally, finally cry out..."I need help."

A review of sorts

I did something unusual for me the other day.  I went to a movie...by myself.  Shocking, isn't it?  Actually, it kind of is on a couple of levels.  One, I don't go to movies very often and two, I really never go to movies by myself.  It was a good thing.  I deliberately drove to work instead of taking the bus (thus messing up the adventures of the car stalker, but she was really gracious about it),  purchased a ticket online while at work and went to the last matinee of the day.

I went to see Blue Like Jazz.  I read the book by Donald Miller a long time ago and have followed the process of the movie being filmed over the last couple of years.  It has been awhile since I read the book, so I went into it just knowing I liked the book but not remembering all the details.

Can I just say, the previews for the movies, before Blue Like Jazz began, made me very uncomfortable?  When the five other people in the theater are over the age of 50 and remind me of my parents, viewing previews with so many sex scenes was just awkward.  AWKWARD!

Anyway, I went to the movie to A.) support the filmmakers, writers and people who helped produced the movie and B.) to watch a movie that deals with faith in a real way.  I rarely view "Christian" movies.  I find many of them pious and out of touch with reality.  Blue Like Jazz isn't a Christian movie, per se.  The movie deals with issues of faith but I wouldn't categorize it in the Christian genre.  Which, IMHO, is so refreshing.

There were moments when I was confused and trying really hard to remember where some scenes were in the book (answer:  they probably weren't).  I was admittedly distracted wondering what the other people in the theater were thinking, especially with the one part, with the one thing at the church. (Yes, being vague.)  When I stopped allowing myself to think about the people around me, I could appreciate the movie for what it was, an honest reflection of a young man's journey away from and back to his understanding of faith.  There wasn't an altar call.  There wasn't a pronouncement of the saving power of Jesus.  The moment was simple, the main character found his way back to the faith that he had abandoned...and took ownership of his part in how others viewed faith in God.

I don't know if this movie is going to have a profound effect on people.  I don't know if many people are going to "come to Jesus" because of this movie.  To me, it simply doesn't matter.  I walked out of the movie wondering what my part has been in the story of God, in the story of faith in this world.  I walked out pondering my own faith journey.  I walked out wondering if there are people out there that need to hear my own confessions.  If every Christian who sees this movie walks out pondering their own story, I think the movie will have done it's job.

Glass

I cried on the bus this morning.

That sentence sounds very dramatic.  The moment didn't happen anything like that.

What did happen was I got on the bus, found a seat just for me, put in my headphones, turned on my iPod and listened to a song...which made me think of life...which made me think of a friend who's had more than their fair share of ups and downs and turmoils.  Life is looking up for this friend but the past is still there...the wounds life has dealt are beginning to scab over...the scars will still remain.  All of this was going through my head and the next thing I knew the tears had formed and were trickling down my cheeks.  I'm not sure anyone around me noticed.  I didn't try to hide the tears.  I let them fall.

The tears came easily, partly because they have been waiting, just behind the lids of my eyes for a few weeks now.  My soul has been feeling a little fragile, a little tender lately.  The tears fall easily.  It happened at work just last week.  I found myself reading something, an email I think, and the those waiting tears commenced.

At church on Sunday, the same thing happened.  I'm not sure if it was Pastor Bruce or the visiting Missionary but someone said something and there they were, those tears.

I've been in this place before, this tears-in-waiting place.  It's usually as God begins to birth something new in my life.  I have no idea what is coming next.  All I know is I'm feeling a little fragile...kinda like glass...and it's a good thing.

Just in case you are curious, the video below is the song...I deliberately chose the video that just had the lyrics and music.  Thompson Square "Glass".

Pondering hypocrisy

I had lunch with a friend on Friday.  We are attempting to have lunch together once a month.  The two hours we have flies by, the conversation jumps around and around but usually settles on church.  We worked together in church for awhile.  We come from different backgrounds, have different political viewpoints, have different life viewpoints and yet the friendship is good and strong.  She talks, I listen.  I talk, she listens.  We respect each other and never once have I felt judged for disagreeing with her.  I hope, she has never once felt judged by me either.  Grace abounds in our friendship.  It is good.

At the tail end of our conversation on Friday, as we talked about church stuff, we got onto the subject of why people go to church or don't go to church.  It's a big topic these days.  I've read many a blog post about the subject from many a Christian and the responses vary but usually there is one constant theme running through the reasons for not attending church.  Hypocrisy.

I made the statement to my friend that as a church-raised, church-loving girl, I struggled a lot with the hypocrisy I see within the church.  I fall into the hypocrite category at times, so pointing fingers feels really wrong.  Not standing up and acknowledging the hypocrisy, though, seems wrong as well. 

We preach forgiveness and redemption and hold grudges and anger.  We preach social justice and grace and withhold grace to people who are "sinners" or don't look or act the way we think they should.  We label certain sins as really, really bad and tend to overlook the verse that says "all have sinned and fallen short of the grace of God."  We say that numbers of people in the seats don't matter, then look around and wonder where everyone is on a Sunday.  (True confession, I caught myself so many times overlooking the youth who were sitting right in front of me, wondering where everyone else was.)  We say God and Christ can do anything but give up on people when they don't change they way we think they should in the time frame we think they should.  We confess faith in Christ on Sunday but don't live that faith out Monday through Saturday.  Those are just a few of the things I've seen.

I've struggled with church a lot over the last few years.  I love the church. I also recognize the church is not perfect.  It's not perfect.  It's not ever going to be perfect because the church is made up of human beings...imperfect human beings.  I wonder if that is maybe the problem with the hypocrisy I see in the church.  We work really hard at forgetting we are imperfect, striving for a perfection just out of reach and stumble all over ourselves trying to cover up the mess we make in the meantime.

I don't have any answers, just a pondering mind, a desire to keep seeking God and recognize and admit my imperfection...and the imperfection of that institution I love...the church.

Young Adults

One of the hardest parts about leaving my former job was knowing that I would lose connections with the young adults.  Not that we wouldn't still be friends, but that I wouldn't see them on a regular basis.  Like Jon-boy.  I would see him two or three times a week.  Lately, I get to see him once a week and there is no real conversation.  That would be because we are too busy dissing "The Bachelor"...and I only started going to watch "The Bachelor" because it meant I could hang out with Jon-Boy and a couple of others.  I miss the long conversations standing in the parking lot after youth group or the impromptu Taqueria gatherings.  I miss the conversations about faith and life and humanity and all of the different things we would talk about at any given moment.  I miss the opportunities to be on the sidelines, to encourage and to gently guide.

Last night, though, last night the opportunity arose to hang out with some of those Young Adults.  We laughed, played games and started the deep conversations as the evening was winding down.  Typical.  I was up for a couple of hours after getting home just thinking.  If I could go back and do one thing over, I would have started that young adult group years before.  I would have invested more of my time and energy into being with them and helping them navigate the world outside of High School.  Because outside of High School is where the real conversations started happening.

I've been doing a lot of reading about Young Adults and the Church lately.  I've read the articles saying that Young Adults are walking away from the Church in droves and I've read a lot of speculation about why that is happening.  Last night, as I was talking with a few of the young people, I would have to say that this article by Tim King is dead on.  While that article has a definite political leaning, the ultimate meaning is the same, the Young Adults of this age are turned off by the hypocrisy in the Church.  While we're at it, I'm pretty sure it's not just the Young Adults of this age that are turned off by the hypocrisy of the Church.

During the discussion last night, one of my Young Adult friends said "I wish there was a way to be Christian without being labeled a Christian."  There was weariness in her voice.  A weariness that caught my heart.  She is entirely too young to be that weary of the Church and Christianity.  Sitting in the back of the car, there was nothing else that I could do then let my head fall back and let out a sigh of sadness.  I get it.  I understand.  It still hurts to hear that statement falling from the lips of one so young...

I have no answers.  I only have my thoughts, my concerns, my speculation and the desire to continue the conversation...and to continue to care for, love, encourage and gently guide the Young Adults as God brings them into my path.