Wednesday, December 30, 2020
2020 Hindsight
Tuesday, December 15, 2020
Mended Relationships
I have the old classic Righteous Brothers hit, "That Lovin' Feeling" stuck in my head today. I'm sure all the Baby Boomers know the song I'm talking about. A sad 'lost my love song': "bring back that lovin' feeling." Not sure why it came to mind, but I'm a frequent victim of earworms. At least this isn't an annoying commercial ditty and I like the Righteous Brothers.
The number of broken heart songs is staggering. Every genre of popular music has standard favorites that seem to stand the test of time. It has always been a go-to for country music and rock alike. It's not surprising. I don't think there is a single person who has escaped the experience of a relationship gone wrong. Humanity has that common, whether it's puppy love or bitter divorce.
There is a deep current of need for connection with another. Whether or not you believe in a first created human there is no denying many people seek to connect with a power higher than themselves. It's because we were made for relationship beyond other humans. God put in us a desire to know him. We were fashioned for love, given and returned. Love that does not quit when things get messy. People give up easily really. God does not. His love is often one-sided, has been since we stumbled in Eden and lost our first love.
Love is not just a feeling. It goes beyond whatever our emotions are at any given moment with others. The good news is we have a Savior who redeemed our broken relationship with God and in reconciling us to him, he reconciled us to each other. His enduring love has been shown to us in a baby in a manger. It is the promise of ages.
Merry Christmas!
Thursday, December 3, 2020
Larger Than Life
Monday, November 23, 2020
Fractured Jesus?
Scripture speaks of Christians being one body, striving to live in peace as we are called to do. I thought about those words and came to the realization that God literally means ALL Christians. Fundamentalists, Southern Baptists, Evangelicals, Catholics, Mainline Protestants, Pentecostals and other perhaps fringe denominations. That's a tall order for all believers. I don't know about you, but I can easily think of doctrines of some denominations that are on shaky ground. I reject teaching based on a single verse taken out of context. That approach alone has led to fracturing the body of Christ and led to many separate denominations. There is a saying in Alcoholics Anonymous: All it takes is a resentment and a copy of the Big Book to start a new group. I wonder how many churches have begun with a resentment and a bible.
There are a sizable number of Christians who will not budge from their dogma. They have closed their minds. I think of Jehovah's Witnesses who cannot bear to have their theology questioned. I remember one woman with children in tow asking me if I was a believer. I explained I believed Jesus was the Messiah and ask her to read my bible for a different rendering of an argument she was making about having to earn your way to eternal life. I spoke firmly, using scripture to refute her argument. She kept quoting from their authorized bible only. I pressed on gently hoping to win her over. But she started ushering her children away from my dangerous words of freedom. I prayed for her for a long time.
But there are Christians I don't see eye to eye with who are more difficult to converse with. They have closed their minds to any other possible interpretations of scripture. I have wound my way through many different denominations before finding myself in a place of peace and thoughtfulness. I stumbled my way through a fundamentalist church where EVERY other denomination was deceived. A Southern Baptist where the King James Version of the bible was the only inerrant scripture choice. A Pentecostal church where legalism reigned. I had to be saved weekly because I had managed to sin during the week. They catered to condemnation and fear. They also told me to pray harder, have more faith, repent more, and receive the Holy Spirit more in order to be healed of my bipolar disorder and suicidal depression. You see, that implied it was basically my fault if I didn't get "healed."
After that church, I decided I'd had enough of other Christians. Went months sleeping on Sunday mornings. I talked to God, but I had been burned pretty bad. More time passed and my husband and I realized we wanted our son raised in the church, but not just any church. We spent months visiting churches that ran the gamut. Some we knew right away we'd never go back. One we went to several times thinking there was potential. But the day the pastor said something along the lines of I'm not doing what is known as a benediction because it's so unnecessary. I began crying because I felt like I was being sent away empty-handed. We never went back. I need God's blessing. A benediction is no small thing.
Again we stepped back from church shopping. Then a postcard arrived that had the photo of a white pastor and a Black praise director, arms over each other's shoulders inviting us to come to the start of a new contemporary service at a nearby Presbyterian church. I'd never been to one. All I knew of Presbyterians were they were "the frozen chosen." I was hesitant, but a diverse congregation sounded inviting. We went and felt so welcome, the warmth, the joy, and the presence of the Holy Spirit were palpable. We joined that church within four weeks and two weeks later I was playing guitar for the praise team.
It's been twenty years and I've never been made to feel shame, fear, condemnation, or been told I don't measure up in God's eyes. I found a home that lets me think, that surrounds me with love and assurances that my mental illness is not a sin and I don't have to live as though I'm disappointing God by not being healed of it. My church allows thoughts and decisions informed by a cleansed and living conscience. The bible is inspired and church decisions are not made by a single person, but by a committee of elders chosen by the people with the laying on of hands. First-century Christianity at work, living out in the services and in the lives of those who attend. Sanity. Simple spiritual sanity.
I want peace between all Christians, regardless of denominational flavor. We can surely find common ground if we seek it. But all too often hearts harden because we don't read the same bible version, or interpret some scripture a little differently. Or we welcome people other churches would condemn. Or even worse, our politics differ. I find it heartbreaking that some churches tell who and what to vote for in the name of God. Anyone who votes otherwise isn't a real Christian.
The show we put on in the world must grieve the Lord. Yet I still believe there are people in every denomination who are willing to say," Putting it that way, I change my mind and agree with you." Have an open heart and mind and wishing above all to be one, to love, and to be at peace. May we all listen to each other not with the express purpose of trying to convert the other, but to find common ground we can agree on and be at peace with the whole body.
Wednesday, September 30, 2020
Called to Action
Once again, I'm struggling with the current state of America. The Covid-19 death rate, the economy, the violence and unrest. The decline in world leadership and status, the rise of white supremacist groups, and the increasing disparity of wealth distribution. For the first time in my life, I fear for the existence and future of American democracy. The world is looking at America increasingly as failing.
I have thought of the words of David when he asked himself, "Why are you downcast my soul? Why so disquieted? Hope in God." He faced all manner of troubles in his life, and many were political in nature. Jesus faced politics as well, within the religious institution, and living under Roman rule. In fact, Christians have faced political backlash throughout the church's existence. Sometimes simply praying, sometimes standing up and saying "no more."
I think of Dietrich Bonhoeffer who spoke out against the Nazi government and was hung as a result just before the Germans surrendered. I think of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. who faced down racist resistance and was assassinated. I could name others, but for the sake of brevity I won't. Both spoke out against ungodly governance. They were anointed individuals for their eras. They carried out God's call on their lives and paid the price.
I think God is calling some now to stand up to ungodly governance. There are Christian voices saying enough. And it's not just about America, it's countries throughout the world who have governments who rule for the few and not the many. Where wealth and power sway all decisions and the environment is sullied and destroyed. We are all called to pray, but some are called to nonviolent action. I would be among the protesters who are marching against racism were it not for my leg. But I can vote and write emails and I do.
In this time of national turmoil, I will think of David's words and hope in God. I will remember I am a citizen of a kingdom that is ruled from heaven. But I will also be an active participant in our democracy and work for peace and justice. I will not be silent nor complicit in systemic racism or inequity in education, financial security, or healthcare. I will try to walk humbly with my God, but I will stand up for the disenfranchised and poor. I will no doubt step on toes, but it will not be intentional to cause harm.
Wednesday, September 23, 2020
God's Timetable
As a favorite band, Chicago, sang, "Feeling stronger every day." After three physical therapy sessions, I'm walking a little better. There is pain, but it's manageable with ibuprofen. My foot and ankle swell pretty badly by the end of the day if I have walked a lot, but that's to be expected. My goal is to be off the walker and using a cane by the time physical therapy is complete. My leg muscles are weak, but I'm exercising them. Compared to where I was a month ago, this is excellent progress.
As much as I want to move faster, I have to be content with slow and steady. I can't be deterred if my goal isn't reached according to my timetable. It will be hard if I haven't graduated to a cane in five weeks, but I will battle discouragement.
It can be hard when our plans don't come to pass when we expect. Learning God's timing doesn't always line up with ours can be difficult. At least it can be for me. I can think of many times throughout the years when I was disappointed, even dejected when my dreams were delayed. And sometimes, our dreams aren't even in God's plans for us. I wanted to be a composer. I enrolled in a university conservatory only to drop out. It's not that I had no talent for it, fear of failure won out.
Looking back I see my talents were to be used for other purposes. I did compose, but not symphony music. I wrote contemporary Christian songs. I also dreamed of making it big but my two albums never sold well. I spent forty years playing guitar and singing for churches. I never would have guessed my life would follow that path. Maybe I wasn't an Amy Grant or Darlene Zschech, but my talent was used according to God's plan for my life. It was a good plan.
I have also learned I'm not the one who is the judge of my life. I have a judge and he is more compassionate than I am. He sees deep into my heart and knows me better than I know myself. Motives I don't always understand or deny are laid bare to him. Yet he loves me unconditionally. My judge is God and I know he is not a harsh judge, unlike humans who frequently are. I know he is not swayed by special interests or bribes. He answers the demands of the law and accusations by looking to my Savior who paid the ultimate price for my failures, whether intentional or not. I have the gift of peace knowing that.
Dreams and plans will continue to go according to God's plan and timetable. We can accept it or fight it to our own turmoil. I will try to continue to trust God for how my life plays out. I will trust his judgments, for he is all-merciful and all-knowing.
Sunday, September 13, 2020
The Fruit Quiz
Saturday, August 29, 2020
Blessing in Disguise
Sixteen weeks. That's how long it has been since I broke my leg. I'm still wearing the boot and using the walker, but I have recently been able to put weight on it. I cannot begin to say how much joy it brings. My hands have sore calluses from bearing my weight on hard walker handles. Now I only use the walker to steady myself. My leg and ankle muscles are quite weak from disuse. In two weeks I get another set of x-rays and am hoping they will say I no longer have to wear the boot. I will still need the walker for some time until my muscles have strengthened. But that will come.
A week or two back I had a long conversation with my pastor. One of the topics we touched on was the accident. She remarked that I seemed to be more at peace. I am, and that is no accident. We agreed God did not cause me to break my leg, but the accident wasn't prevented by Divine intervention either. It's pretty clear it was a life-changing event. Faced with an extended leave of absence, eventually money would have run out. I was forced to take early retirement.
The job I had was fast-paced and demanding. I was there for over sixteen years. During those years I worked with five managers with enough temperamental differences I sometimes suffered mental whiplash. Bipolar disorder made it even more challenging. One particular boss had little patience. I struggled during her tenure with a complete breakdown. And medications were making me forgetful. I had to take an extended leave of absence to save my job. I am very fortunate my employer was sympathetic and I was not terminated. A lot of people with mental illness suffer job loss even with the ADA. I will always be grateful for the library standing by me.
This broken leg, as trying as it has been, has resulted in my no longer having to take blood pressure medication. I also get better sleep. And even when sleep isn't good, I no longer face a high stress eight hour day with diminished mental acuity and physical stamina. Yes, God didn't cause it, but he allowed it. He understood my anxieties and steered me in the direction I needed to go.
A verse from Psalm 139 came to mind this morning: ...all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. God knows our comings and goings. He hems us in from every side. I could wish my leg had never been broken, but I would have continued on the same path and stayed in turmoil. Instead, God used my misfortune to rescue me and put my life on a new trajectory. Contrary to some teachings, blessings rarely mean money, ease, and a carefree life. Jesus said blessed are the poor. I now see my accident as a blessing and I thank God. His blessings truly make rich the soul.
Thursday, August 27, 2020
Journey to Justice
I used to say I’m colorblind. It seemed the right way to think. But my mindset has changed and I embrace differences in color and culture because it validates identity. I believe everyone has a spark of the divine image of God and dignity within them. That’s why the voices calling for racial justice and equality matter. That’s why my voice joins with them.
I grew up in a white suburb of Kansas City. Maybe that was intentional on the part of the developers. I don’t know. The only time I saw people who weren’t white was when we journeyed south of the river to shop downtown, go to the zoo, or to the Air Force base. I’m certain I stared. We always returned to the insulated neighborhood in which we lived.
I finally encountered people of color when I went to college, though not many attended the university. It was moving to cheaper housing that brought me into a predominately Black neighborhood. I was the only white person in my apartment building. There I saw financial insecurity, the result of redlined segregation. Though I made friends, I was called out for white privilege. It just wasn’t labeled by that name yet. I had everything I needed and much of what I wanted courtesy of just being white and having parents who could foot the bill. The cards were stacked in my favor.
I’m aware the doors of financial, educational, and employment opportunities have opened for me that are frequently denied people of color. Black,
Latinx, Asian, and Indigenous peoples have been systematically denied equal power
and wealth. Desegregation was supposed to erase the disparity between the urban
core neighborhoods and schools and the white suburbs, but in reality hasn’t
I now live in a diverse urban neighborhood. My church is one of the only Presbyterian churches in the city that is racially mixed. It was there as I made friends that I learned what walking or driving while Black meant if stopped by the police. My fear mingled with that of a mother who told me how her teenaged son and daughter were loaded into a police car simply because they were walking down the sidewalk. They grilled them, then let them go. They were actually looking for an older Black man. So why stop them? It’s traumatizing for people when they are immediately suspect just for the color of their skin.
Black lives matter. The lives of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor mattered. So, too, the many other lives lost to unjustifiable lethal action. I struggle with the injustice I have seen and heard about. Sometimes I cry. It’s grief mingled with anger. Anger that must be channeled into positive action to bring justice and peace. Jesus said we would always have the poor, but what we do about it will matter when we are judged.
God is not a Republican. God is not a Democrat, either. Jesus is his face to us and he was not about keeping the status quo. He ushered in a new kingdom in which we are to love and help the poor and needy, the disenfranchised and downtrodden. It’s not enough to say racism is wrong. Anti-racism must be our goal: to root out racism in our institutions including the church. And I must also seek to uncover my own hidden biases. The time has come for racial reconciliation and restitution. The church must take the first step. Then those who finally know justice will also know peace.
Sunday, August 9, 2020
Paul's Question
Wednesday, August 5, 2020
Citizens of Heaven
Thursday, July 23, 2020
Fear of Falling
Friday, June 26, 2020
Grace for This Time
Sunday, June 21, 2020
The Salt of the Earth
The scripture text was from the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus told the people they were salt to the world, but his sermon wasn't saying to go beat the bushes for Christ. Rather he talked about how precious a commodity salt was to those who were listening to Jesus. It only takes a little to pleasantly season food to make it desirable. And just as too much salt can ruin a dish and waste the food, a heavy-handed evangelizing approach can drive people away.
I thought about times when I said too much and turned people off. I also thought about the times I had used the bible as a handbook of sin to judge people. I cringed when I considered all of it. I then thought about the times those things were done to me in the name of Jesus and how I felt: hurt, bewildered, turned off, angry. Not a good result for soul winners.
Maybe getting older means getting wiser. I'm not nearly as anxious as I once was when faced with opposition to the gospel. I find myself speaking more often in measured responses. I find my judgment has been tempered with grace and mercy, realizing sometimes I'm just to pray quietly in my closet. It doesn't mean I never speak. It means I put myself in someone's shoes. I recall all the issues I've struggled with through the years and how very unhelpful many Christians have been. Quick to quote scripture in hurtful ways to show how far I have missed the mark. I have witnessed firsthand how many Christians beat those who don't share the faith instead of seasoning their words lightly with the salt of Christ.
It's a fearful thing to judge others. Jesus said the measure we use to judge is the measure by which we will be judged. I don't know about you, but that gives me pause. I've read through the bible many times, and the gospels countless times. Jesus seemed to save his words of judgment for the religious. The people just struggling to get by in faith were encouraged. He said his yoke is easy. This is the Savior who said be salt to the world. Take the burden off the shoulders of the poor and needy. Give gentle words to those who are unkind to you. Be merciful to the unjust, and help those who struggle. As scripture says, taste and see the Lord is good.
Friday, June 19, 2020
Racial Reconciliation
Thursday, May 14, 2020
I Won't Give Up, But Damn It Hurts
My shoulders are tender from pulled muscles as I carry my weight on the walker. I have to kind of scoot it, then jump one-legged holding my weight with my arms. But I am getting around. It's dicey getting through the bathroom door, but I am managing to negotiate it in the middle of the night. Twisting and turning and hopping, I make my way through the house. What I can't do, which is really almost everything, my husband does for me. I am utterly dependent. It's a little scary. If it weren't for his loving care, I'd be in a longterm care facility during a pandemic. And it's frustrating. I've always been an independent person. Now I find myself asking for help constantly.
I'm not a quitter, but this is the hardest thing I've ever experienced. High levels of pain, utter dependence, and fear of unresolved pain for the rest of my life from the injury make me feel a little down. I've battled depression off and on most of my life. I have done my best for the past thirty years to seek professional help and not give up. Willing myself to cling to the hope God gives, or in some extreme times, just letting him hold onto me in my utter weakness. I don't believe for one moment this was sent as a trial. This was an unfortunate accident. Life happens and I have to learn to cope with the Lord's grace and love.
But for those inclined to say this is a test, well, God willing, I'll pass. I'll cry sometimes and suffer some. I'll thank the Lord for his provision and tender care. I'll learn greater gratitude and humility, and in suffering, patience and perseverance. And I'll keep hopping forward, one-footed until I can put one foot in front of another as my life continues to unfold before me.
On a side note, I have chosen to go ahead and retire from my job. I can't work for three months and between pension and social security, I will be fine. I had planned on working for one more year, but after much thought and prayer, this seemed like the right time to venture into a new normal. Maybe I'll work part-time somewhere down the road, but for now, my job is to heal and strengthen. I'll try not to cuss too much.
Friday, May 8, 2020
Angels in Disguise
Saturday, April 4, 2020
I Will Praise Him Still
Thursday, March 26, 2020
The God of My Understanding
Sunday, March 15, 2020
Love Your Neighbor
What do I mean? Jesus said one of the two greatest commandments was to love your neighbor as yourself. It's often expressed as the golden rule: Do unto others as you would have done unto you. There are those who are arguing this whole thing is being blown out of proportion. But as I mentioned before, the death rate is higher than influenza and it strikes the elderly disproportionally, as well as those with compromised immune systems. Those who are less likely to become severely ill must think about those who could.
Please think about buying everything on the store shelves before you do it. Everyone needs extra. We don't need to stockpile unnecessarily for months. Just weeks. If we follow the requests for social distancing, we will be less likely to get sick or be an unknown carrier. I work with the public daily, and frankly, I'm getting uncomfortable. My employer is taking steps to minimize risks, yet I'm 64 and taking a medication that suppresses my immune system. I'm not losing sleep over it, but I'm vigilant and thoughtful. And God understands canceled church services. My congregation is on the older side. We need to think about them interacting with younger people who could be asymptomatic.
Some are saying it's the end times. Could be, though they thought it was the end times in Paul's era. God is not missing in action. He's near his children throughout the world. And I'm always hesitant to declare Divine judgment. I don't pretend to know God's thoughts and ways. They are above mine. He said so. But I do believe this can be a time to show charity to the world by Christians stepping up to think of others more than they think of themselves. To remember food banks and to check on their elderly neighbors. To not think I don't need to worry, forgetting the vulnerable.
Love your neighbor as yourself and show God's face to the world. What you do to the least of these you do to Jesus.