Which of Your Ancestors Really Ordained You?

Dr. Edwin Friedman, a student of Murray Bowen who developed Bowen Family Systems Theory, asks this question of clergy people:  Which of Your Ancestors Really Ordained You?  

The context of the question arises out of a discussion in his book Generation to Generation: Family Process in Church and Synagogue (New York Guilford Press, 1995).  The concept he writes about, Family Projection Process, is one of the eight key concepts of BFST.  Family Project Process is the way in which generations of a family project expectations or roles, unwittingly, on family members and descendants.  His premise here is that those who end up as clergy members have been pre-ordained by someone in their family tree.  Interesting, eh?

Here's what I think. . . clergy and their children are expected to act a certain way, right?  You know it's true!  When was the last time you heard someone say (and maybe it was you who said it), "PK's are the worst kids ever!"  Unruly, disobedient, out of control.  Or are they simply like every other child you've come across?  Full of energy, precocious and yet under the scrutiny of many-a-microscope!  So, how does a person end up as a clergy person?  Of course we all know it has to do with the "call from God."  Sure.  But there's more.  We Lutherans should know that there is more, after all it was our own forebear in the faith, Martin Luther who exposited the doctrine of the Priesthood of ALL Believers!  That means that the job I had in the pathology lab was just as much a vocational/baptismal call as my ordination into the ministry of Word and Sacrament.

So what?  You want to know who ordained me, don't you?  Other than the Bishop of the Northwestern Ohio Synod that is. . .

When I was a child my mother and I were the only ones in our household to attend church regularly.  I would wiggle through worship every Sunday but at the end of the service I knew there was a candy bar waiting for me at Wyatt's Grocery Store which was on the route home.  My brother managed to escape church because our father was not a church attender.  He was baptized, sure, but he managed to forego catechism classes, Sunday School, the nine yards! Mom regrets that course of action but give her a break, she was a product of the family system which dictated that if father stayed home, son stayed home as well. And dad was forced to go to church, dropped off at the curb each Sunday to take his catechism and so he was having nothing to do with the whole empty (to his mind) process whatsoever.

                (All you men take note of that story for the sake of your own sons, please!)

So then, before mom there was her parents. They were charter members of the Lutheran Church across town.  Everyone knew them, they owned one of the few restaurants in the area in the 1950's.  They were very intelligent, hard working people.  They were also extremely stoic. . . no horsing around when you were in the presence of Grandpa and Grandma Wilson.  Proper ladylike behavior and words-- always.  Any exception to that rule would get you the look that could kill and you knew you were being disapproved of and that did not feel too good!  (Do you see a pattern emerging yet?  Church as duty. . . proper behavior.  What sorts of people in society have to behave properly?  You guessed it: CLERGY!)

Me with Zach and Hayden who were baptized on Christmas Day!

In the past couple of years I have been able to add to this family history of ancestors that ordained me.  My great great great Grandfather was the oldest Presbyterian minister on the east coast in the 1830's, The Reverend Doctor Lyman Whiting.  Google his name and you will find that at the University of Iowa there exists a whole collection of his sermons in the archives.  Now there's a legacy to live up to, right?  His children were all musicians who played frequently in church and I think, but I'm not sure yet, that one of them married a clergyman. I know his name, Samuel Taggert, and that he was a special agent the American Indians during the Civil War, but I also have a sneaking suspicion that he was also a clergy person.

Well, I can remember as a child lining up my stuffed animals in my bedroom and getting out the old black hymnal (a precursor to the red SBH and the brown one- whatever that one was called).  I would talk to my bears and dolls, we would sing hymns and recite the Lord's Prayer.  They were a holy bunch of critters to be sure!  (I also taught them all math and reading so don't get too excited!)  But as I reflect back on it with this question in mind of who ordained me, there are some very obvious hints that emerge.  I guess I was the one in the family who was ripe for the picking!  And after some very troubling teen years, the idea of being in a profession were one would behave properly had its appeal I suppose.  At any rate, all of this is a very subconscious process but as I take it out and look at it, turn it around in my hands and gaze deeply into it. . . I can see how it happened.

I'm not unhappy with Lyman, Samuel, Helen, Mildred, Robert or Janice.  I love being a pastor.  It is the toughest job and the greatest privilege of my life.  But just so you know, my kids aren't perfect, my husband isn't either-- and I certainly am not!  So don't expect it or you will be sorely disappointed!  But know that I will always do my best to serve the Lord of my life and his people.

God bless you and Happy New Year!!

Amy

Eleven Things I Learned or Relearned in 2011. . .

We are always learning. As human beings that process of growth, discernment and maturity never stops.  I truly am glad for that because I love to learn, not just informational kinds of things but learn about God, myself, the world, the church and whatever else comes along.  I enjoy learning from others and learning about them.  I am truly blessed to have just celebrated my tenth Christmas with the good people of Trinity Lutheran Church in Monroeville, Ohio.  I have learned much from them. . . they may have learned a thing or two from me as well.

I was challenged to race all the kids on our mission trip one afternoon!

The year 2011 was a rather difficult one for me and for the parish I serve; 2010 wasn't all that easy either!  But we survived. . . in fact we did more than survive---- We THRIVED! We experienced more change in one calendar year than it would seem any church could possibly handle without imploding.  But the congregation managed it with grace and a quiet calmness.  Any sort of change can rock the proverbial boat, even positive change. . . but somehow we managed our collective anxiety and are all the better for it.  Let me tell you some of the changes we endured as a congregation: a capital campaign for a new Rodgers organ, painting of the sanctuary with a burgundy back wall in the chancel (gorgeous, but radical!), installation of the new organ, moving our affiliation from one Lutheran denomination to another (major, major stressful change), growth of the congregation by 15% which included many baptisms and receptions for new members along the way. . . wonderful, yes, but anxiety producing as well.

So I learned or relearned many things this past year.  As 2011 comes to a close, I look forward to 2012, hoping that it will be a little more "boring" in terms of change, but in general for those who know me- you know I don't do boring very well so it might be an empty sort of wish!  But I know there will be much to learn: about love, life and what God is up to all around us!

Here goes- my list of 11 things (there could probably be more but 11 is good enough for today), in no particular order of importance:

1) LOVE is fragile: nurture it, hold it gently, give it away-- freely, without reservation and no strings attached.  It will come back to you, I promise!

2) True friends will ALWAYS be there for you when you need them and you know exactly who they are!  They accept you for YOU even when they disagree with you. (I love you, my kindred spirits!)

3) Be there for the most important people in your life-- YOUR KIDS!  Be there no matter what!  Once you give birth to them (or are in the delivery room when they arrive) you must put their needs and wellbeing before your own. Period. No exceptions. End of discussion.

4) Have Fun! Whatever you do, have fun and laugh, even when you are stressed!  Laughing makes your brain kick out endorphins which are good for you.

5) Stand up for what you believe in, even if it causes you grief, even if others don't like it.  You have to be satisfied with yourself when all is said and done.

6) Always keep moving- exercise gets your brain to kick out endorphins which are good for you.  See a theme?  I like endorphins!  They make you feel better about life.

7) Eat at home more often, together at the kitchen table.  It's cheaper, healthier and allows you to actually talk to your family and find out what's going on in their lives.

8) Spend time with your spouse, stay connected to one another.  If you want to make it to 50 years, which is a very long time, it happens one day at a time.

9) Give 110% at your work (whether that is as a stay at home mom, a volunteer, or a paid employee).  When you work with people, give them yourself too.  If you are going to serve others then be available to them emotionally as well.  That's how lives are changed.

10) Be grateful!  Enough said.

11) Pray. Pray! And Pray some more!!  Your Father in heaven wants you to take to Him your deepest felt needs and if you are a Christian then you are commanded to pray.  (That would be a paraphrase of our dear Martin Luther.)

And one more if I might, for 2012----
12) Listen to music, lots of it.  Feel it.  Dwell in it.  Dance to it.  Hear the messages that are good and discard the bad ones.  You never know when you will be inspired by someone else's thoughts.  This past year the song that kept me going was one from when my oldest child was a baby, from the movie Prince of Egypt,  When You Believe. Specifically the line that is repeated over and over is what held my imagination,"There can be miracles when you believe, though hope is frail, it's hard to kill."  Hope is frail, but oh boy is it hard to squash.  So in 2012, keep hope alive.  God bless!  Leave me a comment if you like!

Amy

The Son Will Rise. . .

Earlier this week my sweet nephew, who just learned how to Skype and keeps calling me on my computer, caught me with a question about Christmas.  "Aunt Amy," he asked, "What is the meaning of Christmas?  Other than the birth of Jesus, I mean."

Wanting to know where this was coming from I asked him, "Are you working on something for church?"
"No," he responded, "for school.  I want to get ahead and it's a paper for English that's due when we get back from break."  Wow!  His teacher assigned the kids to write about the meaning of Christmas?  Cool!

So began a 10 minute conversation about the Incarnation of Christ, that God came to us as a human being to save us from our sin, to rescue us from death and to give us new life.  We talked about how amazing and wonderful that is, that God would do that for us!  He must really love us to be so concerned about our relationship!

Our digital conversation began at the manger, meandered through Galilee, went toward Jerusalem and a cross, and ended up at the empty tomb.  "God was born as the human being Jesus, the Word made flesh, the one who pitched his tent to live among us, in order to save us from our sins and patch up a broken relationship," I explained.  If there had been no baby, there would have been no resurrection.
I caught my nephew typing as I was talking; taking notes I presume, soaking it all in.  At the end of our conversation I could see that he had put it all together, that he knew this was bigger than angels, shepherds, and wise men-- this was about our human life!  And God's love and grace!

As I walked this morning on my usual path, I thought about our conversation.  As the sun came up I reflected on our words to one another, my only nephew and me.  I thought about how much I love him and how much God loves him!  (And me!)

I heard God say to me, "Amy, in all of your worries, in all your fear, in all of the things that you think you have to get done. . . the Son will Rise!  In all of your caring for others, in your concern for their well being, remember, I hold them in my hands.  In all of the busyness and small things that don't matter in the grand scheme, know that I am in control and you don't have to be.  The Son will RISE!"

On this day before Christmas I am reminded of the rest of the story, I hope this helps you to be reminded too. . . The Son WILL Rise!  

Amen.  

A Person's a Person No Matter How Small (even if they are a pastor!)

Horton the elephant knew this. . . he knew that people had worth and ought to be treated with respect no matter who they are, how big or small they are, how fuzzy, pink, purple, or gray they happen to be.  The Mayor of Whoville, who was inside the speck on the clover, had a great defender in big gray elephant, Horton.  You know, this Dr. Seuss story has much in common with the good news of Christ.  The Gospel proclaims that all people have worth and are cherished and loved by God.  Treat others as you would have them treat you.  Love your neighbor as yourself etcetera and so on and so forth.  .  . but does that apply to pastors in the church?  Are pastors persons who deserve common respect and friendship?

At first glance at that question you may say to yourself, "Why of course they do, silly.  Why wouldn't they?"  But in all practicality, is it a truth that is lived out in our churches?  Why do I ask this, you might wonder?  So glad you are interested. . . 


I have been in the ministry for just over nine years now.  Maybe that's not very long, but it is long enough to have seen myriad cases of the bullying and harassing of pastoral leaders.  I have seen congregation members treat their pastors in ways that they wouldn't treat their most despised enemy (well maybe they would).  Now you might want to get angry with me for saying this, but I'm going to say it. . . the truth needs to be told.  Pastors are people too!  Pastors have feelings (I know it's shocking), they have families that love them and care about their health (and don't like to see them get beat up over chancel furniture, worship times, flags in the sanctuary, the positioning of Christmas trees, hymnals, candles, organ preludes, coffee hour logistics, preschool curricula- well, you get the idea).  Pastors have spouses and families who have made the journey with them through eight years of higher education (and sometimes even more!) because they supported the call from God.   And yet, so many times pastors are criticized for making too much money!  (Yeah, right, a Master's Degree in hand and making less than the guy who works at Ford Motor Company, no offense Mr. Factory worker, what you do is important to be sure.)  Oftentimes spouses of pastors have put their lives on hold and their dreams on the back shelf in order to be obedient to God's holy will.  Pastor's families have moved and moved again, pulled their kids out of schools and transplanted them into foreign territories.  They have left friends behind and have had difficulty finding new ones. 


Pastors, surprisingly, work more than one day a week (and three hours at a time), we rarely get two days off in a row because we are expected to be available 24/7; we don't get the 9 paid holidays that everyone else gets because they either fall on our day off (if we take Monday as a sabbath) or there is worship on that day because it's a high holy day in the church.  Now, listen carefully, we are not complaining about that.  We love what we do.  What really gets annoying though is that people don't often see how much time, energy and commitment we put into the church and into them as individuals.  A lot of what we do is behind the scenes.  We take work home.  We study.  We read books to keep up to date.  We answer phone calls at our houses during dinner and when we are tucking our children into bed.  


We are people too.  And as such, it would be nice if people would refrain from saying to us (as my best friend was told recently) to "stop shaking her a#$ to the organ music."  Apparently dancing to an Advent hymn is sacrilegious.  Don't call me skinny or too tall (I got that in High School and now I'm 43 and on my way to having a Doctorate), don't tell her to "get a thicker skin and shut your mouth," don't tell him "too bad" he was sick and is overworked but then ask "how are we going to fill our seats on Sunday and pay our bills?"   Don't be absent from important discussions and then insist upon your own way.  Take responsibility for yourselves and we will take responsibility for ourselves.  But mostly, don't treat us like we don't matter just because you put offering in the plate which pays our salary.  We put money there too, 10% of our income or more. 


 Whatever you do to the least of these, you do also to me.  Jesus said that.  


So am I mad?  You bet.  I'm tired of seeing my friends and colleagues in ministry get beat up.  I've been nice about it, and so have my colleagues, too nice in fact.  All I ask is that you treat us as people who deserve the smallest bit of kindness and courtesy.  We are not your ecclesiastical punching bags.  We happen to love you and want to serve you in the name of Christ, but we don't understand why you take out your frustrations on us.  


So now I will make my confession and ask for your forgiveness for this rant:

Almighty God, heavenly Father:

I have sinned against you,
through my own fault,
in thought, and word, and deed,
and in what I have left undone.
For the sake of your Son our Lord Jesus Christ, forgive me all my offenses;

and grant that I may serve you in newness of life,
to the glory of your Name. Amen. 

Image credit: telegraph.co.uk

Walking in His Footsteps

Yesterday morning, Martin and I took our first walk in the snow of this season.  He absolutely loves the snow!  I tolerate it and let's leave it at that.  Our course is one and a half miles out and one and a half miles back on a trail that has a canopy of trees in several places that shelters those who journey along the way.  Yesterday morning that canopy was sparkling with new fallen snow. . . the tiniest twigs were clothed in white powder and it was quiet. . . very, very quiet.  One person had made it there before we did, and several rabbits had also made their mark.

As we went along I found myself walking in the footsteps of the person who had traveled the trail hours earlier.  I thought to myself who this person must have been about my height because my shoes fit perfectly in the tracks and it was a comfortable stride from step to step.  Whose footsteps were these?  Any shorter or longer and it would have been uncomfortable for me to match.  I will never know whose those tracks belonged to, most likely someone I pass out there often, someone I nod and greet as they turn back and I continue on.  It doesn't really matter I suppose. . . what matters is that it got me to thinking about whose footsteps we follow on this Christian life.

Jesus has paved the way for us, he has gone before us on this journey of faith and life.  He has walked, worked, taught, nurtured, loved, lost, been betrayed, been left alone, been anointed, been fed, has fed others. . . and he has left his tracks for us to match stride for stride like the ones I walked in the fallen snow.  For each one of us, no matter how long or short our gait is, no matter how big or small our feet are, the path is mapped out perfectly for each of us according to who we are and whose we are.  When we get in a groove, a rhythm, of following Christ we may not even realize that we are walking in his footsteps but as our lives are transformed by his love we begin to do what he did. . . we are drawn to caring for others, to looking out for our neighbors and friends and yes, even strangers.

Jesus promised (Matthew 28) to always be with us, even to the end of the age.  Do you see his footsteps in front of you?  Do you see the prints he has made in your life?  You are safe walking this way. . . well as safe as any disciple who radically and obediently follows the One who was crucified and rose again!  The promise really wasn't about safety and security, was it?  It was about companionship, partnership and a never ending, incredible love.  You are loved!  Now be bold and walk in His footsteps!

Thanks be to God!
amy

lmage credit: loveforliana.com

Small Town Relationships

Have I mentioned to you before how much I love coaching track?  Probably have.  I think I have finally convinced my husband that I "have" to do it. . . it's just who I am.  He has given up any negotiations about it!  (Good man!)

Indoor track has begun. . . it's not really a season per se. . . it's a little extra time for the few kids who aren't in a winter sport.  We will go to a few meets here and there but the real work happens in the spring, of course.  So in the midst of Advent. . . a very busy time for a pastor, I get the joy of heading down to the school on Wednesdays to hang out with my runners.  As I get a little overwhelmed with all of the tasks of Advent and Christmas, of programs and decorating and worship services and charity collections, I get to see the teenagers who share with me a love for running and jumping.  I love seeing them.  They make me smile-- they make me laugh!  I think they might just like me too because one of them said yesterday that he wanted to listen to the music that I have on my iPod, rather than what he had on his.  Imagine that!  See, this is what I've been talking about!!  Showing interest in other people's interests is the highest form of praise and affection.  I am happy to listen to their music in the weight room, though usually I have to ask them, "Who is this?"  But they are happy to tell me, keep me up to date on what is cool, dontcha know!?

Anyway, what does this have to do with spirituality or faith you might wonder.  Simply put:  It's about relationships.  It's about being present to one another.  If we are to accompany one another on this journey of faith and life then we have to attend to being present with one another.  That happens in many ways from hanging out in the coffee shop and greeting people as they come in to get their cup of joe (that's where I am right now by the way), or attending basketball games where the kids compete and pal around, to checking out what they are saying on their Facebook pages so you know if they are doing alright, to asking  them what songs they have on their iPods.  It's not rocket science you know. . . it's good old fashioned connecting.  And it means a lot, just ask any teenager how many adults they have in their lives who care about them that aren't related to them and see what they say!



So, I want to know, what's on your iPod?

Have a blessed day,
Amy

Christ is NO Sheriff!

Christ is NO Sheriff!

Kinda catchy, isn't it?  Martin Luther said that in his commentary on Galatians (1538).  Think about it. . . what does a sheriff or any other law enforcement officer do for the community?  Hold people accountable for transgressing the law, right?  It's their job; sometimes it seems like they enjoy it all too much- handing out tickets to speeders, waiting and watching in obscure locations that are not exactly out of sight, but if you don't know the lay of the land you won't see their patrol cars until it is much too late!

I have never gotten a warning from a police officer before when I have been going too fast, that is until last Saturday.  When I first came to Monroeville I got three tickets in about 18 months.  That was nine years ago and I have slowed down considerably since then, but on Saturday we were very busy with cleaning, cooking for company, and I had to get our son to swim practice and back before our friends arrived.  So, I was going 35 in a 25 mph zone.  As soon as I saw him I knew he had me!  I just pulled over and waited.  "Another 90 bucks down the drain," I said to myself.  Darn it!  But alas, for the very first time in the history of Amy Christine Fisher Little. . . I received a friendly warning.  Imagine my surprise as something different happened from my previous experiences!  Relief. Gratitude. A heartfelt smile and "thank you" and before he could say it to me I said to him, "I will slow down, Sir!"

In Luther's commentary on Galatians, he takes up Paul's argument about the efficacy of Justification by Grace through Faith and how human desire to work our way into God's grace is unacceptable, "to seek Justification by works of the law is to reject the grace of God.  I ask you, what sin can be more horrible than to reject the grace of God, and to refuse the righteousness of Christ?. . . There is no sin which Paul and the other apostles detested more than when a person despises the grace of God in Christ Jesus.  Still there is no sin more common."  

Christ is NO sheriff!

He is our Savior, not our accuser.  He is the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, not the officer who comes after us, lights flashing, sirens blowing, engines racing to track us down and give us a ticket, or worse assign us to prison.  Christ is our freedom.  Christ is our refuge.  Christ is our forgiveness.

We are called, as ones who believe, to accept this free gift of grace without protest, without adding to it, without helping it along.  Just say "yes" to his love in your life.  It's as simple as that friends!

Be blessed today and always!
Amy

Image credit:uncyclopedia.wikia.com

Thankful. . .

^{Psalm 107:1} Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.

How incredibly blessed we are!  How often do we simply stope and recognize that?  How amazingly blessed I am!  Sometimes it's easy to forget this fact when life gets to spinning out of control and every day is crammed with meetings, chauffeuring children about, phone calls, cooking and the endless laundry that seems to accumulate at our house.  But all of those things point to blessings!  

To have meetings to attend means that I have employment and involvement with the community I live and serve in; and I love my job 99% of the time.  I love the people I serve; they are wonderful and gifted and loving!  They are constantly teaching me about God's love, showing me how to generous, modeling for me what it means to be a disciple of Christ in the world.  

To have to chauffeur my kids to swim team practice, ballet class, jazz class, piano lessons, Key Club meetings, DIRT meetings, Academic Challenge practice etc. means that I am blessed to have two wonderful kids who are bright, active, healthy, learning and contributing!  So far, I have immensely enjoyed watching them grow up and become the people that God intended for them to be. .  . I don't see that changing!

To receive phone calls means that I have a lovely mother and sweet mother in law who call me and check on me!  I have wonderful friends who want to talk to me, to be in my life, to share their joys and sorrows with me.  I have some amazing friends whom I love (I'm the kind of person who has a small number of extremely close friends I call "kindred spirits" rather than having an enormous number of casual friends. And to find people who are kindred spirits is an incredible gift!)  

To be constantly cooking means that I have a family to feed, some people don't have a family, and some people don't have food.  We have food on our table and we get to enjoy it together.  Plus, my son who is growing like a weed (14 and already over 6 feet tall) is always hungry but it so appreciative of what I put on his plate.  He always compliments my cooking and says, "Thanks for the pancakes, pizza, spaghetti, tacos, soup, etc. Mom."  

Now the laundry, that might be another story- perhaps I should leave that off my list of things to be thankful for, especially now that my washer won't spin right, leaving the clothes clean but still soaked, and my dryer takes three cycles to dry everything!  But no, I do give thanks for the laundry because it is a sign of life and activity around here.  And my life would be rather dull if these people that I live with and share my life with were not here. . . Noah who constantly makes me laugh with his dry wit and character voices. . . Anna who entertains me by dancing, singing, and conversing about all sorts of topics that a nine year old shouldn't care about. . . and Jeff who has constantly supported all my hair brained ideas like  going to seminary (twice), heading to the Trappist monastery for four days of silence. . . always leaving him at home to hold things together.  

I am blessed.  That's all there is to it!  Thanks be to God for giving me the greatest gifts and thereby reminding me of his never failing love. 

 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!  I know that you are blessed as well!  Thanks for reading, you bless me. 

Sloooowwww it down!

I know you do it too!  You rush around your day, run from here to there, there to here, barely stopping to notice if you are breathing.  Sun up to sun down you are moving, talking, shuffling, reading, writing, serving, listening to others, driving, fetching, cooking, cleaning up messes, handling crises, organizing chaos. . . whew. . . when does it end?  Isn't it about time you simply slow down?  Don't you think it's the right time to go just a little bit slower so you notice the last roses on the bushes before they get frosted out, see the kids in the neighborhood jump into those piles of raked leaves, listen to the words of a sappy song on the radio, hear the story your child is trying to tell you about an interaction she had in school. . . don't you think it's time to downshift your gears a bit?

I had a wakeup call this past week as I rushed through all the tasks and work I had on my schedule.  I came home one afternoon this week to hear from my daughter that I had left the front burner of the stove on.  She discovered this as she put a plastic container on top of what she thought was a cool appliance.  The reality is that I could have burned the house down!  That's an extremely scary thought.  When I was a teenager our dog jumped up on the kitchen counter to get something that was up there that she wanted, she hit the control on the stove and some snack bags caught on fire. . . we came home to a burning kitchen that had to be completely gutted.  We were lucky.  I was lucky this week.  But I think it means I am supposed to slow down, pay attention, focus a little better rather than being so scattered.

The other part of slowing down is that there is so much to enjoy, however I tend to miss much of it when I am over-scheduling myself, failing to say "no" to things that could be left to someone else to do, and choosing what is most important and making time for that rather than filling my day with busy-ness.  How about you?  Are you encouraged to take a slower pace today?  Can you stop and fill your lungs with some fresh air so you can actually think a bit clearer?  Can you do something good to take care of yourself, your spirit, your body and mind today?

As for me. . . time to get my nikes on because my pup is waiting for me to go for a walk.  So off I go for some quality time, some quiet time with my Martin Luther.  Peace be with you friends!
amy

A Morning Prayer

Here is another piece I wrote while on silent retreat at the Abbey of the Genesee.  I offer it to you as a morning prayer. . .

Oh God, you brought me through the dark night to see the sun waking up once more.
Your steadfast love endures forever.
Your promises are true and faithful.  
I am filled with a deep sense of gratitude this morning.
Rested.
Tears dried.
Eyes fully open to see what wonders you will show me this day.
Thank you for staying with me in the darkness.
Thank you for walking me out of it.
Reveal to me your holy will for this short life you've gifted me with.
All praise and glory belong to you, Lord Jesus.
You've turned my mourning into dancing again!
Amen.

November morning along the Genesee River

Striving for the Impossible-- Perfection

I know a lot of perfectionists.  Some people might say that I am one of them.  If I am, I'm a recovering perfectionist.  I have learned much over the past 15 years about "letting go" of things that don't really matter all that much in the grand scheme of things.  Things like a super clean house in the midst of crazy busy-ness.  There just isn't always time to "do" everything!  Something has to give.

The thing about perfectionism is that it's one of the great lies.  There's no such thing as perfect- except for Jesus Christ, "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." (2 Corinthians 5:21) As for humans, perfection does not exist.  But we sure as shootin' strive for it, don't we?  As a culture (think of all the plastic surgeries you could have to create a 'perfect' face or body.  Problem is at some point you only end up looking plastic rather than perfect), as families (we worry how our kids are perceived by others and put undue pressure on them to perform), as a church (if we aren't sure we can actually "do it" then we will not take the risk; failure is not an option).  

However. . . 
Jesus never called us to be perfect.  Did you hear that?  Think about it for a moment before you go on reading----- Jesus NEVER called us to be perfect.  He never said we had to be number one, first in line, the best or the brightest.  


He only called us to show up.  


Show up and try.


Show up and do your best.


Show up and take a risk.


But show up no matter what you do.  


The promise is that he will do the rest.  The perfect One will take over when we get to the point where we have done all we can do to the best of our imperfect human ability.  That takes trust.  Perfectionism is a lack of trust in the One who swoops in and gets the job done.  Perfectionism is nothing less than putting all our trust in ourselves rather in the One who "bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live in righteousness." (1 Peter 2: 24)  


So here's a piece of advice that I've said to myself in the mirror on many occasions, "Get over yourself!"  Just show up and assent to letting Christ use your best to get the job done according to his will, not yours.  
Besides, perfectionism is such pressure!  It's such a burden to carry, and it drives everyone else nuts!  


Have a blessed day!
amy

Writing Our Own Psalms to God

The Psalms were the ancient hymnbook of Israel preserved by the community of faith, used in worship and praise of God, a reminder of who God is, was and ever shall be.  I wonder what it would be like to write our own psalms to God.  Might we encourage one another to take this up as a spiritual discipline? I mean, people write hymns and praise music, right?  It's not much different really except that we don't often meditate on the words of hymns.  However, the words do get stuck in our heads and we find ourselves singing them in the shower, as we are jogging or walking or even grocery shopping!  That's one thing I love about memorizing hymnody and scripture- once you've spent significant time with it, turning it over and over in your mind, practicing the melody, paying attention to the harmony. . . it becomes a part of you forever.  No one can ever take it away from you once it becomes yours and you have it readily accessible when you need it, even if you don't have your hymn book or bible handy.  It might be a wonderful exercise in expressing our faith if we would let our pens fly freely over the paper, sharing with God our love for him.

I want to share with you something else I wrote while I was away at the Abbey of the Genesee last week.  It's a psalm I wrote in response to God "taking me to the mat," pinning me down and making me face my own darkness.  He brought me out, which was a bit of a surprise actually. . . but the best thing was he accompanied me through the birth canal I spoke of in yesterday's post (a place of utter darkness, a place where death is indeed a real possibility, but a place that forces one into light and life even though it's a painful process.)  So, here goes, it's simple, but sometimes simple is good I suppose. At least I hope it is because I'm just a simple person after all.

East Branch of the Huron River, Norwalk, Ohio

*O God, your mercies are never ending.


You see me when I am in hiding.  You see me when no one else around me even notices that I am there. You see me when I am invisible, camouflaged, fading into the background.  
Nothing escapes your notice.  Nothing eludes your perceptive gaze.


*O God, your mercies are never ending.


You attend to me, O God, in the darkest valleys.  You lead me to the river of life.  You quench my thirst for what satisfies.  You fill me to overflowing when emptiness is what I have known.


*O God, your mercies are never ending.


You, O God, show me the glories of your creative hand.  You illumine the navy sky with diamonds so I may have light.  You provide the path that leads me straight to your tender heart. You receive me there with open arms and envelope me in your love.


*O God, your mercies are never ending.  Amen.


Give it a try!  See what happens.  Have a blessed day!

God Meets Us Right Where We Are

For my doctoral paper I worked with the family system of Jacob and Esau, those famous biblical twins who began their life vying for approval and superiority over one another.  In the womb Jacob wrestled with his twin, so much so that their mother feared for her life.  Just before the two meet later in life, after betrayal, lost blessings and much anger, Jacob wrestles with God at the Jabbok River. Jacob, by his very nature is a wrestler.  Some people just are. . . they like to wrangle, roll around, get twisted up and sweaty.  God took Jacob to the mat but in the end he blessed him with a new name, Israel. He met Jacob right where he was; God didn't expect Jacob to be anyone other than who he knew himself to be.  God worked with his frailties and failings and made him a great nation as was promised to his grandfather Abraham.

The Greenway Trail Along the Genesee River, New York

I have been a runner since I was a small child.  I remember racing through the neighborhood with the boys because the girls couldn't keep up with me.  In grade school it was also the boys who were my competition, and only a couple of them at that.  Running was my life from very early on.  In High School I was the one who gathered the team and and put the group through our workouts.  In college I continued to run, not just around the green rubberized oval but from all things that sought to drown me: emotions, pain, brokenness.  I was a great runner- successful on the track, successful at running away from God.  At the age of 43 I have slowed down considerably, thanks to a slowly aging body, but in my heart I am still a runner.  Sometimes I still run from God.  Sometimes I still run from my emotions.

On retreat last week I realized the connection between Jacob, the wrestler, and me, the runner.  God has consistently and faithfully met both of us right where we are.  God is quite an athlete you know!  He probably even plays soccer, basketball and field hockey!  Anyway, here is something I wrote last week that I'd like to share with you, for whatever it's worth. . .

Jacob wrestled.
In the womb,
with his twin,
life or death struggle.


God wrestled
with the wrestler,
let me go,
no- I won't!
Let me go,
not before you bless me!
Let me go,
You are Israel.


I run.
From pain, from the past
from darkness and death.
You, O God,
strap on your running shoes
life or death race
tie them tight
stretched and ready
You will not let me
outrun your love
You chase, pursue,
match strides in mercy
On your mark,
get set,
Here I am for you- ALWAYS!

"Thanks, I need him. . ."

There are moments in worship that one tries to never, ever forget because they are so Spirit-filled, so profound even when they are so very simple.  The truth is, I've forgotten many of them.  Comments that children have made during Children's Time that I thought I would never forget and now years later I can only remember that they said something important but I cannot for the life of me remember exactly how it went!  So I'm writing this one down so I can look back it some time later.  Even if it doesn't touch you in anyway, at least it's here when I want to be reminded of my need for Christ.

As I bowed to the cross and turned on my heel to leave the sanctuary I made a quick stop along the path to give her a hug.  She was holding her hymnal so it was a bit awkward but what she said made every hair on the back of my neck and arms stand up.  It was a Holy Spirit moment and it just slipped out of her mouth as she came forward for Jesus.  "The body of Christ given for you, Melissa" I uttered.  Breathless she responded in a barely audible whisper, "Thank you, I need him. . ."

Thank you.  I need him.

I need him too.

Other than that exchange, I don't want to say too much. . . often I simply say too much.  Put way too many words next to something holy. . . so for now this is all. . .

God bless you this day and always!
Amy

It's Spirit Week

At all three school districts which this family is affiliated with it is Spirit Week!  Spirit Week is the week leading up to homecoming and the big football game with the crowning of the Homecoming Queen.  The week is designed to get the students involved and excited about athletic rivalries, the kids are given themes for each day such as pajama day, neon day, school color day, mismatch day and yes, as this picture reflects. . . Senior Citizen Day.

The church has a Spirit day, a Spirit season in fact. . . that is Pentecost of course.  A day and a season where we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit after Jesus' resurrection and ascension.  But wouldn't it be wonderful if every Sunday was a Spirit-day, kicking off every week as a Spirit-week in the lives of Christians?

How much does the average Christian think about the Holy Spirit?  God, the Father, the Creator-- yes; Jesus of Nazareth, of course. . . but the Holy Spirit?  The HS gets less press I think than the other two persons of the Trinity.  I have no scientific way of knowing the answer to the question that I pose but what I do know is that it takes a little while on the faith journey to recognize the moving of the Spirit in the believer's life.

Not long ago a woman in my congregation, who has been a lifelong Lutheran, shared with me a story of her experience with the Holy Spirit.  We have spoken about it multiple times since because she is developing a deeper awareness of the Spirit's presence in her life.  She recounted a moment in the midst of worship where a profound sense of peace simply washed over her, from head to toe she felt the Spirit's love wrap her up in a cocoon of joy.  It had never happened to her before she said.  It was something new, something that caught her attention, something she wanted to feel again.

This happens to me from time to time usually when I am walking my dog on the bike trail, praying, thinking, being.  I cannot will it to happen. . . the Spirit blows where and when it chooses.  But for me it is like a deep sense of tranquility that sweeps over me letting me know that no matter what is going on, I'm going to be alright and that I don't have to be in control.

It's different for everyone I think, the way the Spirit comes to us.  There are some significant similarities though- peace, joy, love, comfort, a feeling of wholeness.  It's the identification process that is the first step toward recognizing the Spirit's presence in our lives.  We might mistake it for the endorphins of exercise, or a joyful moment brought on by some happy event.  It really becomes clear, however, when these "feelings" occur in the midst of trial, temptation, or anxiety.  When things aren't going well for us and we have this feeling is when we might first discern the Spirit's activity because there is no logical, rational, explainable reason for us to feel this way.

So, it's Spirit week ya'll- because I said so. . . veni sancte spiritus!  Come Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Where is Wisdom?

Where can I find wisdom when I need it?  

I've been told that I put myself in some precarious positions once in a while, places where I might be in danger (like when I went to the Dominican Republic for a wedding that I was to officiate my husband forbid me from going to the other side- to Haiti- on my own because he could see it in my eyes that I would want to do something about the earthquake that had just struck there) . . . I can't help myself, I gravitate toward the lost and dejected and sometimes it gets me into strange situations. . .nothing wise about that I guess.  In college I used to walk back to my dorm from the library at midnight all by myself.  I'd say "no" to volunteer security people.  What do I need them for?  One day in the Kroger parking lot there was a couple arguing and the man kept threatening the woman so I stayed right there, about 50 feet away and watched, thinking to myself, "If he goes after her he is going to have me to deal with."  Stupid, huh?


I rarely fear for my own safety, perhaps I think I'm invincible.  I know I'm not, but I trust that when it's my time then it's my time.  So I wonder in all of my foolishness. . .
Is it even possible to search for wisdom?  Or is it something that we just happen upon?  Is there a way to acquire it for ourselves?  Or do life's lessons do the work for us in this department?  


There are those in my life that I look at and admire for their great wisdom.  They have been through much and have processed it and used it to their advantage when another situation presents itself.  They seem to know the answers or at least are willing to let things go as they will, let life unfold without grasping at it too hard or too fast.  Maybe I will never be considered wise, if wisdom means being careful and safe. . . but maybe, just maybe, it's my trust in God that gets me into these situations where people close to me might call me "foolish."  I don't mean walking home alone late at night, I mean being with people who are in need of something I have to offer.  Encouragement, hope, direction, prayer, peace, comfort.  


So then, as I look for wisdom, here's what God says about it in the book of Job:


^{Job 20:28} Where then does wisdom come from? Where does understanding dwell? 
²¹ It is hidden from the eyes of every living thing, concealed even from the birds in the sky. ²² Destruction and Death say, “Only a rumor of it has reached our ears.” ²³ God understands the way to it and he alone knows where it dwells,²⁴ for he views the ends of the earth and sees everything under the heavens. ²⁵ When he established the force of the wind and measured out the waters, ²⁶ when he made a decree for the rain and a path for the thunderstorm,²⁷ then he looked at wisdom and appraised it; he confirmed it and tested it. ²⁸ And he said to the human race, “The fear of the Lord—that is wisdom, and to shun evil is understanding.”


God has enough wisdom for me. . . I'll just rely on him.  Amen.

The emotion that sounds evoke. . .

I live about 200 meters from a set of railroad tracks.  Almost every day I walk along those tracks with my dog, Martin Luther, because there is a bike trail that sits parallel to them.  I cannot see these tracks from my house but periodically throughout the day I hear the train whistle and the rush of the cars over the tracks. It has a certain cadence that is soothing. . . the thump thump as the cars pass over the flexible portions of steel rails.   For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I love the sound the trains make as they pass by.  I hear them in the night and and it makes me happy. . . I hear them in the day and it gives me peace.  Maybe it's because my maternal grandparents also lived right next to a train track when I was growing up and being at their house was a source of comfort and peace.  Maybe it's because my brother used to create elaborate model train configurations in our basement when we were growing up and I thought he was so creative and amazing.  (Still do, Rob, by the way.)  But for whatever deep seated reason, the sound of train whistles comforts me.

I also like the sound of wind chimes.  I have one on my front porch that was given to me this past year by my secret sister.  I love the tinkling of the pipes as they blow in the breeze.  It lifts my spirit, it gives me a surge of hope.  It reminds of the gentle breeze of the Holy Spirit blowing through my life.  When I sit in my teak rocking chair on the front porch with book in hand, watching the world go by, it is the wind chimes that are the soundtrack of peace for me.

Mostly though, I love the sound of my own name on the lips of those who love me.  "Mommy," "Mama," do that when my kids call for me.   I know they love me when they try to get my attention, "Mama. . . I need such and such, or did you know fill in the blank."  I think there's an emotional response for us when God says each of our names. . . he speaks them to us in tenderness and compassion, with adoration and affection;  they are like music on the divine lips.  The utterance of our name by our heavenly Father stirs us to a deeper connection with the one who created us, who loves us and sustains us with his mercy and grace.  No sweeter sound has even been heard than our name spoken by God in love.


But now, God's Message, the God who made you in the first place, Jacob, the One who got you started, Israel:"Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you. I've called your name. You're mine."-- Isaiah 43:1 (The Message)

What other sounds create a positive emotion inside of you?  Do you notice them and stop to reflect?

Hope is a prerequisite for Life

My son just finished reading "Night" by Elie Wiesel in his honors English class.  I read it a few years ago and was moved by it that I remember laying on the coach and sobbing.  A mixture of emotions coursed through my mind, heart and soul:  guilt, grief, anger, sadness, and hope.

As we drove home from our latest trip to piano lessons and weekly family dinner, an hour away, we had time to process some of Noah's thoughts about the book.  First of all I found out that he doesn't like books that have pain and struggle in them.  He is very compassionate but I think it weighs him down. . . maybe he's like his mother in that respect and FEELS very deeply for others who are in pain.  He would rather read Tolkien or Ridley Pearson instead.  He's a sunny kind of guy, no brooding for him, no dwelling in the sadness of life for this ray of sunshine!  So the subject of hope came up. . .

Just as despair can come to one only from other human beings, hope, too, can be given to one only by other human beings. --Elie Wiesel


Without hope there can be no life, at least anything that resembles life.  If we give up completely, if we lack a basic hope in today, let alone tomorrow, then we are left with the emptiness of despair.  Despair debilitates.  Despair robs us of life.  But hope gives us courage in the face of struggle, courage to do the thing that can be so difficult--- courage to LIVE.  


^{Romans 5: 1} Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, ² through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. ³ Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; ⁴ perseverance, character; and character, hope. ⁵ And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness!  Hope in Christ is what keeps me alive!  Hope in the promises of God is what keeps this sinner from falling into the darkness of despair.  Hope walks with me like a loving companion, encouraging me to live for today, urging me to make good use of my life, reminding me that I am a child of God named "Amy" and that there is a plan for me that God is laying out before me one step at a time.  Hope calls me to help others, to comfort them in their grief so that they might have hope as well.  Hope lifts me and supports me even while my character is being refined, shaped, whittled, and sculpted by all that is "life."  


Hope is prerequisite for life.  
Without hope we cannot really live.  
Without hope we would all die of a broken heart.

The Power of Community

We were created to be in community as humans are very social beings.  We belong with one another rather than living and being in isolation.  God draws us into the church by the power of the Holy Spirit and equips us for service, worship and the growth of faith for the sake of a hurting and broken world. Sometimes that community of believers goes unnoticed, quietly doing its work week after week, helping, serving, assisting but never drawing much attention to itself.  But other times it draws people in to the process!  Either way, the community of faith is a source of great strength and encouragement for believers, especially in times of crisis or struggle when we need to band together and comfort one another or get something done.

Church Council Snapping Beans

Yesterday, the faithful of Trinity Lutheran Church in Monroeville, Ohio pulled off another community benefit.  This small church is so amazing!  Please don't ever suggest that there is something we cannot do because we will not listen!  We have relied on our faith and tenacity to do some pretty unbelievable things.  It's not just us though, the larger community is incredibly supportive as well!  The Firemen cooked the chickens and what an amazing job they did!  People came from miles away to eat the chicken dinners that were prepared, to sit and talk with Kim (for whom the benefit was held) and to linger for hours to make sure that enough money was raised for her upcoming eye surgery.  But before the actual event there were the behind the scenes series of steps that were taken to get the job done!  From the dream of "Can we do this?" to the shopping, prepping and cooking.  We had almost everyone single person in the church family working at something yesterday!  They baked pies, they cut pies and plated them up, they turned chicken on the fire pits, they snapped green beans (and lots of them thanks to my miscalculation of how many we would need!), they diced potatoes and shredded cabbage, they made crafts to sell and signs to put up all over town.  Local businesses and individuals who cared sent gifts for the auction and we exceeded our goal of $5000 by $2000 (thanks to Thrivent!).

Kim with her carry out sign.

The power of community is amazing, overwhelming, incredible, and Spirit filled.  These are the times when I feel the Spirit the most tangibly. . . like what I am doing, what we are doing, is making a difference in the world!  Kim will now be able to see clearly again soon. . . but I think something even more than eyesight may have happened for her and us as well!  Now, we are all in this together- every single one of us has a vested interest in her eyesight.  We can't wait until she can see us clearly again, and see the bulletin so she can sing her little heart out in worship!  And believe me, she will!  When she can see again, we will sing our hearts out as well- actually we do that every week- but it will be community joy when her eyesight is restored!

You could say that we are now bonded together for life: Kim, her husband Josh, and the TLC family.  Even if folks come and go, we will have this moment in our communal life to remember.  Isn't this a little glimpse of what Jesus was talking about when he urged his disciples to love their neighbor?  This kind of love bonds people together forever.  It cannot be forgotten very easily.  It pulls people together for a common purpose and strengthens their faith and resolve to get something important done-- and in a BIG way!

Huron River Joint FD and TLC folks cooking chicken.

I want to say thanks to everyone who helped to pull this off!  You are amazing and wonderful!  And keep the prayers ascending for Kim so that her surgery will be a success and that Christ's light will shine through her life continually as she witnesses to his loving, saving grace and mercy!

Joy comes in the morning. . .

Psalm 30

¹ I will exalt you, LORD, for you lifted me out of the depths and did not let my enemies gloat over me. ² LORD my God, I called to you for help, and you healed me. ³ You, LORD, brought me up from the realm of the dead; you spared me from going down to the pit. ⁴ Sing the praises of the LORD, you his faithful people; praise his holy name. ⁵ For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.⁶ When I felt secure, I said, “I will never be shaken.” ⁷ LORD, when you favored me, you made my royal mountain stand firm; but when you hid your face, I was dismayed. ⁸ To you, LORD, I called; to the Lord I cried for mercy: ⁹ “What is gained if I am silenced, if I go down to the pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it proclaim your faithfulness? ¹⁰ Hear, LORD, and be merciful to me; LORD, be my help.” ¹¹ You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, ¹² that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent. LORD my God, I will praise you forever.

How often I've sat with families who have lost a loved one to some wretched disease and they cannot do anything but weep, the tears flow, they gasp for breath, that evil b*^%$ death seems to have won.  It's as if God has walked away from them, never to be seen again, all that is left is emptiness and weeping.  There is no comfort anywhere; nothing I say can help, as if I were smart enough to know what to say in the first place.  But I keep pointing them to the cross of Christ. It's all I can do, point to the reality of Jesus' own suffering and death.  They feel forsaken. . . so did he.  They feel lost in their grief. . . so did he.  They cannot imagine there will ever be a new beginning worth experiencing. . . and yet on Sunday, that very first Easter Sunday, what Mary Magdalene found was an empty tomb- and a man she supposed was the gardener but who really was the Lord risen and freed from the captivity of death and the grave.  

When does it change?  From being weeping and the heaving of chest, gasping for air, eyes swollen and matted shut from the tears to being a joyful morning?  When does it become rejoicing?  2 o'clock am?  5 o'clock?  When?  There is just so much we cannot understand, but the promise is that rejoicing comes in the morning.  We cannot let go of that promise or else all we have is complete and utter despair!  Broken hearts and broken lives.  

It's not just the death of loved ones that can bring us to these places of "night." Loss of dreams, loss of opportunities, loss of being comfortable and thriving.  But God will not leave us, no matter what!  The psalmist says, "What is gained if I am silenced?"  Who will speak the good news for God if all the faithful are silenced by grief and pain and anguish?  The psalmist understands what it's like to cry for mercy and feel like you aren't being heard!  The psalmist knows how it feels to be in the depths of despair and grief, to be in a place so dark that no light seems to be able to enter in!  To have God hide his face from us is to be completely rejected and forlorn.  But who will be left to praise God if all the faithful are crippled and wracked with pain and grief?  Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.  Lord, have mercy.

But. . .  joy comes in the morning.  We have to believe it!  We have to have hope!  Without hope we will surely die sometime in the dark night.  

Sometime over night the Psalmist received relief. . . you turned my mourning into dancing. . . you took away my grieving clothes, my funeral attire and replaced it with joy so my heart can sing your praises, so no one can shut me up I'm so amazed at your love!  Lord God, I will praise you forever.  . . and I will not forget the many times you brought me out of wailing into joy sometime over night into the morning.  Amen.

Image credit: wnrn.org