A new year

I am not much into New Year’s Resolutions. Perhaps because I am not very good at keeping them. Perhaps because my time to make “resolutions” tend to be in the fall when the days grow shorter and the night longer. In the middle of the deep darkness others call winter, it is harder for me to think about, let alone set resolutions. I am sort of “bear-like” what I really want is to just hibernate.

Having said that, I do think about some things I would like to do in 2015. These tasks are not much different than what I had hoped to get done in 2014. Most are a continuation of what I am already doing, I just want more of it. Someone had posted in a blog that they like to list “goals” for the new year. Somehow that makes more sense to me. Ali Ebright in her blog Gimme Some Oven has a word that she uses to be a goal for her new year. I like that as well.

After the year I have had, my goals or resolutions or whatever name you want to call them are pretty simple. I want to quit looking over shoulder because while I know there are always people who are cynical or pessimistic or looking to see other fall, I do not want to give in to that kind of negativity. I want to be more intentional about disengaging from work in order to enjoy family and friends. I want to continue to be healthy through exercise, getting enough sleep and eating right. I want to cook more. I know that sounds silly, but some weeks I do not get to cook at all, and I find myself spiritually centered and more joy filled when I cook. Along with cooking, I plan to continue to garden, so that part of what is served comes from my hands. In other words, I am looking for more peace, more joy and more love to share and to experience.

In other words, I want this:

When I type “more” I don’t mean more stuff, but more intentionality about life, love, joy, peace and faith. In the best of the Christian tradition, I believe that is what Jesus was all about. The Beatitude, his parables, his time at table teaching, eating and challenging was focused on helping people know that they had everything they needed to live well and in community. I hope to pay better attention to Jesus’ words in 2015.

In my own Christian denomination there is long tradition of saying the Covenant Prayer on New Year’s Day and often on the first Sunday in January. It is attributed to John Wesley by United Methodists, its origins are subject to some discussion. Regardless, the prayer itself is powerful A musical version is in the newest hymnal supplement Worship and Song. I love it and while this video isn’t great, it gives a taste of this powerful prayer put to music.

On this day, I say this prayer

with hope that I may continue to be graced to serve

Thanksgiving Eve

Yesterday I wrote about that it had been one year since my mother’s memorial service. Last year on this day my brother’s and I spend all day cooking and baking and enjoying preparing a Thanksgiving feast. Today, I prepared a much smaller feast to be shared tomorrow with my husband and his mother.

First, my husband and I will participate in a 5K run/walk for Grace Med. This ministry offers health care to the underserved in the Wichita area. They are a ministry of the United Methodist Church. Four years ago they began the “Say Grace” race.

There is much I have for which I am grateful. Yesterday, I was thankful for the memories of my mother and the celebration of her life. I was also thankful for a day bookmarked by a gorgeous sunrise and sunset. I don’t often see both but yesterday morning at the downtown YMCA, this was what I saw as we walked in preparation of tomorrow’s race:

The end of the day’s picture did not turn out quite so lovely, but the view as I left the church was just as stunning.

On this night I am thankful for the ability to walk 5K to help the medically underserved in the greater Wichita area; a plan to “skype” with grandchildren; to cook for my mother-in-law and husband; some days at home to enjoy with my husband and to begin to decorate for the upcoming Christmas holiday. I am deeply grateful for family and friends, a roof over my head, and faith to make each day a gift. On this Thanksgiving eve, I am graced to serve.

Life of Faith

I continue to respond to the challenge to blog each day. I have missed a couple. I am grateful for those who prompt me to consider writing each day.

In my daily devotions I ran across this quote from Linda Carter:

“In one sentence, a life of faith is this: Avoiding the very real,
very human propensity to let the worries of the indeterminate
tomorrows divert us from what we have to do today,
we dive into the day’s own trouble, seeking in it
justice and God’s commonwealth,
firm in the knowledge of the love of God for us.”

Truly it is real that the worries of tomorrow divert us, diver me from what has to be done today. Sometimes those worries nag me in the middle the night and rob me of rest and send me into a new day weary from troubles that have not appeared. A life of faith rests in the knowledge of God’s love and grace and that same grace and love is sufficient for whatever lies ahead.

The beloved writings Christians call scripture of filled with promises of God’s care and of hope. Jesus said “Don’t worry about tomorrow, today’s troubles are sufficient for the day.” Basically Jesus said has anyone ever added one moment to their life by worrying about it?

The takeaway for me is that when I allow worry drive me, nag me or distract me from the life in front of me, I am losing a very real chance to live life to its fullest. Certainly there are always problems, there are always distractions and issues to be addressed. Each problem or distraction or issue can be an opportunity for me to grow, for me to pay attention and for me to make choices as to how I will live authentically and faithfully.

Today I choose to live life “firm in the knowledge of the love of God” and surrounded by God’s infinite care. With that knowledge I am graced to serve.

A day in the life….

Most days, being a pastor/minister is wonderful. Every day is often different with many different tasks and people to minister to. Some days are pretty mundane, with tasks that must done in order for the ministry of the church to continue. Other days come with surprises, some good, some difficult, some tragic.

And Sunday comes around every week! I heard one key note speaker say, “Sunday comes around every DAMN week!” For preacher types, it feels often like it comes around every couple of days. Planning worship is humbling, challenging, exciting and often frightening! Each week, the “preacher” is charged with creating a sermon that will be insightful, meaningful, comforting, challenging and most of all give voice to “the Word.” Sometimes the task is easier than others.

Today, at West Heights United Methodist Church the worship service was not created by the pastor or the worship team, but by a group of confirmation students. Their grade levels were seventh grade through tenth grade. They have spent the last 10 weeks studying the bible, church history, the sacraments, visiting with other worship communities and writing a “credo” which means “I Believe.”

We started out with eight, seven of which had not been baptized. Last Sunday afternoon, four of our youth chose to be baptized by immersion. In the United Methodist Church, like many mainline churches, babies are often baptized. Only one of our confirmands had been baptized as a baby. So we went to a church that had a baptistry. What a joy to baptize these four young people.

Today, we baptized three more this morning in worship. Then at the second service, we had seven young people profess their faith and become full members.

They chose the songs/hymns, wrote the prayers and crafted statements of faith that they shared with us today. It is one of those services that makes a preacher proud. It wasn’t what I was doing, but what they were doing as they lead worship, shared their individual faith statements, affirmed their baptism and professed their faith that made worship so sacred and holy. Each year, I am in awe of these young people and I look forward to seeing them grow and deepen in their faith.

On this day in the life of being a pastor, I am blessed, humbled, in awe of the faith of Jimmy, Robin, Kayden, Maddie, Jessica, Connor and Lyndsey, and I am so graced to serve.

Memories

My mother loved tv shopping. She could watch hours upon hours of QVC and HSN. I mean HOURS. My siblings and I received many Christmas gifts from my mother’s television watching. We can laugh over the massive wooden salad bowls, the battery operated cookie press (that didn’t really work but the cookie sheets were awesome!)
The George Foreman grills were pretty good, and the sautee pan which I still use, but others were a bit odd.

In the last few weeks of her life, she went back to watching those shopping channels on tv. Often all night long the men and women would hawk their wares and she would watch. The rehab center she was in would joke with us that they had never seen anyone watch so many hours of shopping.

Now the truth is, that my siblings and I did not enjoy watching the shopping channels as much as she did. Did you know that some of those shows ran a full hour on trying to sell the same item: computers or silverware of holiday cookies and cakes and candies? All for three or four easy payments (plus shipping of course!)

On this day a year ago, my mother was “lucid” for the last time. Of course, when she was awake she would watch the shopping channels. When she was not, my brother or sister or I would change the channel in her room, often to the Food Network, because during the day there were cooking shows. She would briefly rouse, look at the tv and look at us and then point her finger at the tv. “Do you want us to change the channel, Mom?” “YES!” and back it would go to either QVC or HSN.

She would nod back off and then we would change the channel again. By early afternoon, with my sister and I in her room, we discovered that NCIS was playing non stop on one of the cable channels. We both love that show, so while my mother slept we watched old episodes. My mom would wake up, point at the tv, we would change it back.

Toward the latter part of the afternoon, she woke up one more time. My younger brother, my sister and I were in there, playing on our tablets or laptops, watching NCIS, waiting and watching as my mother slept and began slipping away.

She woke up again and NCIS was playing. This time, though, she didn’t demand we change the channel. This time this is what she saw.

She started pointing. “Do you want us to change the channel?” She shook her head no. She pointed at the screen. “Mom, do you want us to order one?” Her eyes opened more and she said “YES!” My brother started shaking his head and said “Mom, really, Navy guys are not that great and I should know!” Again, she pointed to the tv screen. She tried to say “that one” I couldn’t fault her, who wouldn’t want a Mark Harmon?

So my sister and I assured her we would order one. She looked at us, and we both laughed and said “really! As soon as the 1-800 number comes on we will order one for you! Maybe it will be buy one get one free!” My mom shook her head yes, smiled and went back to sleep.

She never opened her eyes again. I often smile at the memory of her pointing at the tv screen and wanting one more chance to order something, something she thought would be wonderful, something that would give her joy and make life a little bit more wonderful.

Certainly that is what those shopping channels promise: one more item with a few easy payments will make a person more happy or more productive or will make life a bit easier. For me, watching my mother want to order a handsome man at the last makes me smile even today. To laugh and smile with her in her last couple of days was a privilege and an honor.

Whatever one believes about this life or the next, I believe that wherever my mother may be now is a place with no more pain, no more weakness and is filled with life and love. My mother knew too much of fear and loss and uncertainty. The promise of faith is that when we transition from this life to the next there is peace, wholeness and a fullness of who we were always meant to be. May it be so for my mother. And some day, may it be so for us all.