Present

What a season this has been-   The girls senior year, Katie's struggle with health and not knowing if her shunt was functioning, Elijah wrapping himself in science and other competitive events- branching out as a young man, leaving behind boyhood, Sophia finding herself in 4th grade ever so successfully- as confidence builds....and the everyday struggles and stretches we all experience as life moves forward.

As an educator facing so many hurting students that my job finds its dwelling spot in pseudo "mama, social worker, accountability partner, encourager and teacher."  At the end of the day realizing I teach future teachers and run a prek lab for their submersion experience yet I am called to be the coach.  I find that I'm helping struggling students write English papers or stories or poems I haven't read in 25 years.  Encouraging them to press on, more one step at a time while meeting the standards required to  excel in my class.  Helping them move forward to post secondary options, apply for scholarships, act as a reference, complete college referrals, etc.  

So my question as I rejuvenate  is "why does my heart struggle or feel overwhelmed?"   It's because we are called to intersect our lives with the broken-hearted, oppressed, voice less ones of our world.  It's our commandment, our calling.  We can't teach those who are hungry and feel down hearted.  It's not possible to turn away from their personal issues.  We can set boundaries that offer peace and point to hope as it makes way into their lives, praying they hear or see this manifesting of love.

Yet balance is the key...trading my own burdens to a God who never misses sleep because he's worn out and has no solution.  Turning my emptiness to him where he can turn "turn beauty from ashes or water to wine".  He is able to travel home with these young lives, can restore them and offer hope.  I'm the instrument, the priesthood offering only companionship.  Not healing, not even "fixes" as they search to find their way.  

This thanksgiving, I'm thankful for brokenness.  I'm thankful for friends who show up with empty hands and offer to carry these hurts and issues to God as I feel my arms breaking.  For those, not many in numbers, but saints along the journey.  These folks don't stand from a distance and speak a good word.  They roll their sleeves up, put on their boots and ask no questions.  Later they sit and offer companionship with or without words, they're present.

May we be more present and like Augustine says "use words only when necessary."  

Holding onto the hem of faith

Holding onto the hem...

Seems like that's for the women who touched Jesus and he even felt that slight touch.  Well I'm that woman, feeling weary of belief.  I'm holding onto the hem of faith.   Knowing that god covers me in the cleft of the rock, restores life from death....yet today this season, I'm holding into belief.

Katie our daughter with special needs and so many issues that keep her from "normal" life is a senior this year.  She's a life giver to everyone she meets, especially the stranger.  She's not inhibited to preach or proclaim the goodness of god wherever we go.  The ER...a place that produces anxiety and some fear inside me.  Yet she exhibits joke telling with doctors and nurses...has visitors that can't tell she's even sick.  Her joy rises above her pain...  Visitors like Mr. Terry...he's a military man, smart and very succeful; he's the face of Jesus.  He sits down and begins listening and sharing laughter with Katie , intensely and so personal.  Together they break bread and Jesus is among their friendship.  It's so "loud" it's contagious and others want to be part of their experience.  That's love.

Friend of mine with a child with severe issues brings her children to rescue my other three on Friday night so I can have a nap.  She takes her three, one that cannot walk, to play in the park, enjoy milkshakes, eat burgers and watch funny episodes of Psych.  That's love.

My friend, offering repeatedly to bring me to nod from work...take me out for supper or walks from her room to mine with coffee, made like I love it, just to sit. Or offers to style hair and makeup for senior photos for a treasured moment that we thought might now come.  That's love.

Young friends, ones I have taught in high school....reaching out to kid sit, grocery shop, bring me weigels drink and chocolate for a "push" to get thru the day....they pray and check in with me daily.  They're are love.

Ministers who are colleagues and friends who go beyond to weep with us or break bread as we wrestle the questions of fair and equality...without judgment. That's love.

Friends from across the ocean making time to skype to offer friendship as close as face to face as possible.  Again love.

Friend who buys groceries or coffee and checks in weekly to make sure my feet are grounded and my heart is not troubled.  Who has no answers but offers friendship.  Love.

Friend who says I can be there with you, I'm a fixer.  I want to be present with you....in 5 hours, I'm there.  That's love.

Another friend....I can just come and sit with you.

Theses are the hems of faith which my fingers are grasping.  This is provision as Katie and I listen to songs of praise this morning...we talk about life and death.  She's worried about herself.  She is asking if I'm afraid for her to die.  I'm not.  Together we hear the songs such as "he touched me" and "candle in the world" and Katie smiles.

"This makes my heart sing mama b"

Hummmm

This week I've tried renewing my mind and let me tell you  I was over-hauled by enemy forces.  My scattered emotions from things in the past, things out of my control, and the unknown anxieties began to build their home in my head.  As my katie would say "I'm having a messed up day..."  

As I trekked through this week, first week of school with kids....I realized vulnerabilities are essential to experiencing the joys and heartaches of living.  Reminding myself I married Scott 25 years ago, not really knowing him, but knew it would be an adventure.  As I soared through my flurry of mind-activity, I got angry that I ever wanted adventure....what was I thinking?  Give me safety, security...throw some adventure, without much risk, and life would be grand.

That simply got me a "hummmm..." response.  As I travel this mid-life journey, experiencing things that great physicians told us about Katie and her quality of life would never happen.  Well, "hummm!"  Meeting she and gracie for their senior pictures, among a huge senior clas and roar of kids, not having a panic attack....not just making it happen but living that moment with excellence, now that's  adventure.  Having my friend who teaches cosmotology travel with me to give a special treat to their day, well, living life exceedingly.  That's the story, right?

Scott training for a new job...seeing a mother with 3 little ones and experiencing god move in his soul.  Befriending her as a stranger...praying for her...living abundantly as Laura story writes "what if my blessings come through raindrops..."  The story continues with us or without us.

My long time friend comes to mind...we sit miles apart, sipping coffee and experiencing god's grace as we share life.  How is this possible?  The daily manna, newly given mercies for the days events and god knowing us.  Deeply being aquatinted with our every needs....

Yes, hairbrushes and quick fixes for makeup- seniors photos....Sophia's 4th grade teacher being her "blessing for the week"...sharing failures with a friend who hears, loves and grabs your hand...no judgement here, let's go!

Our god does see us, offers us tidbits of hope scattered like petals...sweet smells of a happy moment, cooler breezes blowing, walking at dusk and even swatting away the gnats...these offer exceedingly above what I could ask or think.

Camp Celebrate...

It's a evolutionary process for me to go to camp and then return home, the land of normalcy-well that's a unique term in itself. Each time I think I've "got my self together" I am brought back to a place of humility and at the feet of grace. Asking questions that many of my "able body" friends and "dis able body" friends ask...we just appear different. But our hearts yearn for joy, peace and a gentleness of quiet all mixed up in this world of busy-ness and instant gratification of technology, etc. A place we seemingly can't slow down or even walk softly. The race continues, with our without us, therefore we jump right back on to the dizziness of a playground called life.

I am grateful this morning for the sacrificial giving of so many...we who have "dis able body" families often barely come up for air, yet life goes on. We rarely slow down to "cry" because we might not stop yet there are so many who plan a year for a treasure of a week...camp celebrate for families.

Thank you for the thoughtful intent of those who give the siblings a "night of their own"...dinner and putt-putt w/o the worry of caring for their sibling. A time to laugh or cry and it be a safe place to express their emotions. As parents, we often make little room for these guys because our plates, physically and emotionally are full and dripping from the edges. We sometimes forget 'they' have emotional tanks that are maxed and feel the same highs/lows we feel, just from a different lens. Maybe a more endearing one that from the parental lens.

For each child celebrated, mom celebrated with prayer shawls and jewels to wear...reminding us that we are trees, strong as oak, and God himself uses us, the ones who cannot face anymore heartache...yet Isaiah says we are his and he will rebuild with us. For the dads who "got away" to a quiet place at the river and fry fish...men of all abilities for they, too, are planted, deep rooted as trees of Oak.

This is just the beginning but my heart is overflowing...today not envious that a vacation doesn't sit on the cusp of my summer, that planning for the future is in someone's hands that gives sight to the blind and binds up the brokenhearted. For this is Love, the good news for ALL of us.

Do Justice, Embrace faithful love and walk

What does the Lord ask of me?

"He has told you, what is good and what the Lord requires from you: 

Do justice, Embrace faithful love, and walk humbly with God." Micah 6:8, CEB

This verse has been used in many venues; calling people to show love, grace and mercy. Urging people to respond to justice or injustice yet it grieves my heart  that as "my" world is impacted, you know getting closer to home, this practicality takes on a vague or dimly lit command.  It becomes embedded in the grey areas and sometimes shelved for later use.  

Maybe it's out of convenience or that the command doesn't fit my lifestyle and people need to really take care of themselves...you know "not my problem."  Society as a system, a living growing system requires community.  Communal living with accountability, voice for the oppressed, actively showing grace and faithful love to those who didn't earn it, ownership for actions/feelings and self-reflection.

As we see the event which pops-up frequently, I am impacted by Jon Stewart's reflective words (paraphrased), "we are more responsive to people in countries that threaten; isn't the destruction we see right here killing us from the inside...one young man, with hate symbols on his clothing walking into an innocent group of mostly older women, of color, and ending their lives."  Another friend, T. Austin responded that "white people live everyday in safe places of privileged...we have to make the effort..."

                      

to DO the just acts, Embrace faithful love, not hate or fear and 

walk nearer and closer to the heart of God.

Hospitality

The gift of hospitality is in fact faceless.  It knows no boundaries if we allow our eyes to see from different lenses.  As I grow deeper into knowing Christ, I am convinced that we've missed the mark on welcoming the stranger.  Offering hospitality is a gift.  It's is the truest expression of Jesus I can identify.  It is more than tossing a coin in the direction of the lonely or homeless - it's breaking bread side by side.  It's taking the approach that my time and eye to eye listening is more valuable than my contribution.  Hospitality requires an effort that reaches beyond my comfort or hanging with my "peeps."   

It's listening with my whole self.  It's a gift of presence when it might be uncomfortable or inconvenient.  Forgive me when I take time only if I've planned for it or scheduled it.  God doesn't work on my lists of tasks or even within the context of my gifted ness - for he is the giver of all gifts, right?  

Hospitality is allowing LOVE, the face and presence of god himself, to make new creations out of the unplanned or spontaneous.  It's entertaining those who look and think and feel differently.  Those that seem outcast-able and maybe even deserving.  How can LOVE work through me if I'm constantly organizing and fitting Jesus into my parameters?  How can my categories of people make room for gods gentleness and love?  It can't.

Draw me nearer, nearer...to what? God?  A better sense of love in an unbroken world?  Hospitality is that...befriending, making time, sharing morning coffee or tea and sitting side by side as god works through and heals both us.  Yes we are the same as the stranger.  

Therefore, Let us draw near to the throne of Christ where creator sits and dwells among, me.   Yes his grace and mercies are new every morning and required for each of us to know god more. Let us break bread together....expecting god to sit among us.  

The Art of Letting Go...

Tonight I experienced the washing of feet as Jesus demonstrated many times using this image as a picture of deep love.  As we are experiencing death with my granddaddy in a personal intimate way, I am reminded of Jesus.  An epifany of sorts...

Granddaddy has pulmonary fibrosis and has been actively living his life until it came to a halt this past week.  The fibrosis masked in pneumonia stopped him in his tracks, robbing him of his legs and zapping his energy.  We all rushed to the side of grandmother while holding his hands...praying for some suffering-free miracle.

Reality.  He isn't going home, the the home on Sevier Avenue anyway, and must stay in the hospital till Jesus calls him.  In this time of grief, we've been granted a gift.  A gift of presence and conversation.  Midst the Lysol smelling hospital room, we are communing together as a family.  The great grandchildren have been to see him...in their own ways saying goodbye, singing songs, telling stories, playing music and retelling jokes.  The grandchildren- me, Michael and Jen - have reminisced about riding motorcycles, making mud pies, fixing things, etc.  We've laughed and cried more tears than we thought possible.  The children- Brenda and Debbie- have stayed connected alongside both parents with tears, smiles and preparing their hearts to say goodbye. An ending of sorts, a beginning of another.

Painful.  Agonizing. Yes.  Worth it?  Absolutely!  God has allowed us to gather together, sitting on the floor, surrounding granddaddy's bed. Once again, he's teaching us.  We are the students.  He's the mentor even at deaths door. He is teaching us humility, grace, courage and how to walk through the valley of death without fear.  To sit midst the enemy of death and fear no evil.  Beautiful.  

What came clear was observing my dad, Jimmy, shave and comb granddaddy's hair.  He asked for a hot towel in his soft wrinkled skin, where the tubes and tape have stuck to his porcelain face.  My dad was the servant yet he was being served through gran daddy's yielding to the picture of grace.

Deeply moving- picture of Jesus coming to the world to be served.  To sit among the weak and least, the sickly-  offering drink and food giving restoration.  Thankful I could witness this act of love.  

Treading carefully through grief...the art of embracing and letting go.