God’s Gifts in the Chaos…

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Advent, beauty, blessing, breath, chaos, Christmas, crazy, gift, God, kids, life, moments, relationship, sacred

Photo credit:  https://www.pinterest.com/pin/214835844696012029/

Every December since our elder child was about two or three years old, the same thing happens.  The anticipation of Christmas turns our children into possessed creatures.  They argue more, act out in school, whine at the drop of a hat, and generally become entirely unpleasant to be around.  No matter how much I try to minimize the excitement of Christmas, the buzz around them is unavoidable, and, ergo, crazy behavior.  I found myself so frustrated the other day with the constant effort to reign them in that I had the distinct thought, “I just wish Christmas was over already!”

But I soon as had the thought, I knew I did not mean it.  You see, despite the mayhem of the season, in these last days of Advent, there are still sacred moments everywhere.  As we read our Advent devotional this week, one of the questions was, “Who are you praying for this Advent.”  My younger daughter immediately said, “I want to pray for all dead people.”  “Oh,” I said, “like whom?”  “Like MeeMaw,” she said.  And despite the fact that they nearly broke half the ornaments that came out of the ornament box, now, every morning, both girls rush to the tree to plug in the lights and find the ornaments that play Christmas tunes or funny sounds, twirling around in their nightgowns to the sounds.  And last week, as they had their Christmas dance performances, I teared up watching them, remembering how very special dance had been to me growing up.

The same can be true in any season.  Whether we are putting our heads down, trying to finish one more project, or absorbed in technology for extended periods of time, or simply fixated on our endless to-do lists, we can achieve a lot, but miss life along the way.  Fortunately, we are blessed with a God who is continually trying to get our attention anyway – who is relentless in pursuing relationship with us.  In these last days of Advent, God invites us to take a deep breath, lift up our heads, and open our eyes to the beauty of the sacred all around us.

Hickory Neck offers us the opportunity to do that over the next several days.  Whether you come to our Blue Christmas service, our last Advent liturgies, Christmas Eve services, or the service on Christmas Day, there will be multiple times to see glimpse of the sacred all around you – ways in which the manger is a window into the greater redemptive work God is doing in the world.  Whether it’s with an encouraging word from our Blue Christmas service, the sharing of memories at an upcoming funeral, or the wedding vows that one couple will renew on Christmas Day (sixty years later!), what we learn is that in the chaos of life, God is gifting us sacred gifts in tiny, momentous ways.  Today, I invite you to receive God’s gifts among the chaos.

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On Making Mary Moments…

Tags

beauty, closure, death, goodbye, grandmother, holy, Jesus, journey, Martha, Mary, meaningful, presence, sit, visit

Photo Credit:  Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly, January 26, 2018

Over a week ago, I received a call that my grandmother was approaching death.  The suggestion was if I wanted a last visit, I should come sooner rather than later.  Looking at the week ahead, I realized I could go with my children last weekend with minimal impact to their school schedule or my own work obligations.  I was not sure what to expect – whether I would be able to have meaningful conversation or even eye contact with her, or especially how my three- and eight-year olds would respond to her in her current state.  At some point, a family member pastorally suggested I not come, knowing how hard such a long journey for such a brief visit would be.  But something kept pushing me to go, even if the journey seemed fraught with potential difficulty.

There were things that did not happen.  We did not have one last, long, meaningful conversation as I had with my other grandmother.  My grandmother was much too weak and her thoughts much too confused to answer any of my lingering questions about our family.  My children did not get to interact with my grandmother extensively.  They had beautiful moments of tenderness with her, and they played nearby, but they also needed to be kids and move.  I did not leave with a sense of real closure.  No one really knows how long she will be able to thrive.

What did happen was a much clearer understanding of why Mary chose to sit at Jesus’ feet, while her sister Martha busied herself with the duties of the home.  For full confession’s sake, I am much more like Martha most days – I am always washing one more dish or finishing one more piece of laundry instead of playing with my kids or hanging out with my husband.  But sitting beside my grandmother, holding her hand, realizing all the things I was not getting, I came to see the beauty of presence.  I do not think I have ever just been still with my grandmother.  I have never looked into her eyes for an extended period of time without saying anything.  I am pretty sure I have never just held her hand.  In the midst of all that could not be said, I felt a different kind of closure.  I could finally see in my larger-than-life grandmother her vulnerability, her desire to love, her humanity.

I left my grandmother last weekend wondering if I might be able to create more space for Mary-type moments in everyday life.  Whether I might put my phone away more often at home and be more present with my family.  How I might stop worrying about my to-do list, and spend more open time with our staff and parishioners.   Whether I might write that note to a suffering friend instead of letting the thought pass.  What Mary-type moments have been missing in your life lately?  When was the last time you sat at the feet of Jesus, or sat at the feet of the holy in others, and stayed for a while?  What might you need to do this week to find your own Mary moment?  I look forward to hearing about your reflections.

On Busyness…

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beauty, busyness, creation, exuberance, God, habits, holy, joy, lessons, life, savor, sins, white space

We all have habits that pull us away from God.  Mine is the habit of busyness.  In juggling family, work, and self, I can easily fill every second of every day.  Even the fun stuff I schedule can feel like something to be “fit” into the schedule, not delighted in and savored in the moment.  I was particularly convicted of this reality by a speaker I heard at a leadership conference, Juliet Funt, who talked about the value of white space.  She defines white space as the strategic pause taken between activities.  White space is not meditation, letting the mind wander, or mindfulness.  It is a simple, intentional break.  And white space isn’t just for work – it is for the home too.

What struck me about her talk is I realized in my devotion to busyness, I am carving out a life that looks and is experienced in a particular way – a way that I am not sure I necessarily like.  Two things brought this home to me recently.  The first was watching the film About Time.  The plotline was a bit farfetched:  a man who can travel back in time and change parts of his life.  After myriad adventures, what the time traveler eventually realizes (spoiler alert!) is that he does not need to travel anymore.  Instead, he treats everyday like a gift to be savored and celebrated.  He was carving out white space in his life.

The second thing that brought this home was the funeral of a beloved parishioner.  In the eulogy, the family talked about all the life lessons they had learned from their mother, many of which were about living with joy and exuberance.  As I sat listening to the eulogy, I realized that everyday I am filling up my children’s life full of lessons – and I want them to be the right ones.

So, taking a cue from the fictional to the very real, I decided to create a little white space this week.  There are some lovely yellow wildflowers blooming on the drive to my children’s childcare facility.  So yesterday, I pulled over, grabbed the phone, and took some pictures of beauty – the beauty of God’s creation in nature and in my children.  It was a small victory, but as my children proclaimed, “That was fun!” I knew I had carved out a little holy space for all of us:  space to say thank you to God for all of our gifts – creation, life, each other.  I invite you today to find a moment of white space.  I can’t wait to hear about what that white space brings!

Photo credit:  eskipaper.com/yellow-flowers-field-background.html#gal_post_32591_yellow-flowers-field-background-1.jpg

On seeing beauty…

Tags

awe, beauty, creation, fall, God, leaves, love, season, seeing

Photo credit: http://xyer.co/fall-leaves-wallpapers.html

Most of you know that fall is my favorite season.  Every year I am blown away by the turning of leaves.  Something about that transition is magical and mystical.  Each tree seems to have a period of glory.  Sometimes it sneaks up you.  You walk on the same path every day.  But one day, that tree has gone from a slow transition to being brilliantly red, orange, or yellow.  It takes your breath away and you literally stop in your tracks.  Sometimes you just stare; but sometimes you close your eyes, taking a deep breath of the cool, autumn air, the image of those colors blazed in your mind.

Over the years I have had my favorites.  In seminary, there were three small trees planted in a triangle formation.  They turned a brilliant yellow every year.  But when the leaves fell, three circles of yellow formed on the grass.  I couldn’t help thinking of our Trinitarian God looking at those concentric circles of yellow bliss.  In my first curacy there was a bush on the church campus that turned blazing red.  It was one of those that would sneak up on you.  Fortunately, it always held its leaves for a while, so its color was a daily gift of joy for weeks.  Here at St. Margaret’s there is a wall of trees lining the front entrance of the property.  They are enormously tall, but otherwise unassuming.  Their leaves aren’t even pretty in shape.  But, when the time is right, they all turn a beautiful yellow that becomes stunning when the sun hits them just right.

As I was walking the property this week, I wondered whether God looks at each of us the way that I lovingly look at the changing leaves.  I wonder whether God sees heart-stopping beauty in each of us, gasping in awe of us.  Of course, we could never see ourselves in such awe-inspiring ways, but I imagine God can.  And unlike us, who have our favorite seasons, I imagine God is in awe of us in all seasons of life.  When we are budding with new life, when we are deep shades of green, when we explode in shockingly beautiful colors, and even when we are bare and vulnerable, God sees our beauty always.

If God can see that kind of beauty in us, how might our behavior change if we started seeing that same beauty in ourselves and in others?  The work would be hard.  I don’t always like the brusque winters or the lazy summers I sometimes see in others.  Sometimes I look at myself and only see the ugly shape of my leaves and not their brilliant color.  But if God is willing to see the beauty in all seasons of my life, perhaps I can start trying to see the beauty in myself and others too.

On beauty…

Tags

beauty, bold, glory, God, light, shine, volunteer

Photo credit: http://stock-clip.com/video-footage/tulip%20loop

I was visiting a neighboring parish recently and was admiring their beautiful landscaping.  A dogwood was blooming in delicate pink.  There were pockets of flowers in red and purple.  As I was surveying the beauty, I noticed one, brilliantly yellow tulip standing on its own near the dogwood.  It was surrounded by mulch and little else.  And yet my eyes were drawn to the single flower more strongly than the rest of the carefully planned landscaping.  When I mentioned the little flower to someone on campus, they said that sometimes flowers “volunteer” like that.  They self-pollinate and just show up where they like.

The image was a striking one:  something so out of place, and yet so beautiful.  By “volunteering” and just standing boldly where it was, this tulip was a reminder of how beauty cannot always be managed.  Sometimes beauty is beautiful because it was not managed.

Thinking back on that tulip, I found myself wondering whether I was willing to be so bold – whether I was comfortable volunteering to be wherever God planted me.  Jesus talks to the disciples in Matthew about being a light for the world.  He says in Matthew 5.16, “…let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”  Jesus’ words sound simple, but I think we do not really feel comfortable living out his instructions.  We might consider letting our light shine…as long as we are surrounded by others doing the same.  We don’t mind being a brilliantly yellow tulip…as long as we can be beautiful with others.  But ask us to go at it alone – to let our light shine by ourselves so that others might see our individual good works and give glory to God – well, that is another story.  What if I am not bright or beautiful enough?  What if my works aren’t good enough and people judge me instead of giving glory to God?

The trick is remembering that little tulip.  I saw lots of flowers that day that looked beautiful.  But it was the one solo flower that made me stop, that made me linger nearby.  That tulip had power simply by being willing to be where it was, and to be there in its fullness.  Our invitation is to do likewise.  My guess is that even if we cannot see our own beauty or our own light, others will – and they will give glory to God.