The Key

If you were to ask anyone who knows me what my gifts for ministry were they are sure to tell you that I am a caregiver.  They will sing the praises of my visits to the hospitals and nursing homes and that I am comfortable in those settings.  I have a secret though.  I am not the giver in those situations; I am the receiver of a gift, of many gifts. Each gift I receive differs from room to room. The most recent gift came when visiting a member of my church who has been homebound the better part of the time I have been a member there.  I had met her previously when I had supplied for the former pastor but this was my first visit with her as a member of her church.  She had recently taken a fall and injured her brain and is currently in a rehabilitation facility quite spry and witty.  I knew that the facility was chosen because her sister lived nearby.  What I didn’t know is that her sister was a long time member of the church I attended for the previous 13 years.  Her face was familiar as I entered the room.  We quickly made the connection and began to talk.  I described my son to her as the boy who would go to the altar every Sunday to pray and who went up for the children’s sermon well into his teenage years.  In fact he is nearly 18 and at our current church he goes up for the children’s sermon.  He is caught in between two worlds.  In his brain and socialization he is still a 5 or 6 year old boy who loves being a child.  He likes to eat from baby spoons and forks and he loves everything super heroes.  He is the 18 year old that goes up to the children’s sermon but also the 18 year old that wants to collect the offering and watches the person standing next to him making sure he makes every move that person makes.  He is emulating the man, trying to be a man.  He watches bob the builder on one hand, and yearns for a wife on the other hand.  The sister immediately knew who I was talking about when I described him.  I explained to her sister that David falls on the autism spectrum.  He was born with brain damage due to alcohol exposure by his birth mother.  He was also severely neglected the first year of his life which caused further damage.  She then told me she had just read a book by Karen Kingsbury called Unlocked, about a boy with autism.  I immediately became interested.  All through elementary school I told teacher after teacher, IEP team after IEP team that David was smarter than he tested.  His IQ scores are quite low.  I kept telling people there is more in there, we just have to figure out the key to unlock it.  He is 18 now and the key has not been found……or has it?  The boy in the story was 18 years old too.  He had been locked away inside himself since he was three years old.  Miracles happen in the story.  You know from the title that the key for him is found.  I downloaded the book and listened to it on my travels to and from Atlanta over the past week.  At one point today toward the end of the book the hairs on my arm stood at attention.  It was 90 degrees outside but I was turning on the heat in my car thinking I was cold.  Then, I was only hot, with cold chills and my hairs standing at attention.  Since I began this book I began noticing changes in David.  Changes that perhaps have been coming through all along but realizing I had given up on any hope of seeing changes.  I would get frustrated with other people who expected too much of him because I had resigned myself to the perceived reality that he was stuck where he was and would be as he has been always.  In a sense I myself had locked him away.  I no longer looked for the potentials and the possibilities.  We spent the day together Sunday.  He cooked grilled cheese. I instructed him, but he took the instruction and he did it.  He helped me change all the beds, and unload the dishwasher.  He cut up potatoes for roasted potatoes for supper.  As long as I was patient and went with what he initiated I was able to see the man he is becoming.  I began to have hope, a hope that had been lost.  All this came from a visit to the nursing home, and a recommendation to read a book.  So, see…..I am not the giver.  I am the receiver. 

Lessons through the locker room

Today the 2nd year of this journey called Seminary began.  I was elated to get back on campus.  I have smiled so much the last two days as I have reconnected with friends and listened to stories.  I'm also logging lots of miles on my new movement watch.  Over the summer, following some concerning test results and a lot of time spent with God I joined weight watchers for the 3rd or 4th time.  This time has been different though.  This time I feel transformed into new life and new possibilities.  Today I added exercise to this new life of health.  I took advantage of the Woodruff PE Center that I pay a yearly fine to and did not use at all last year.  I have decided that I will receive both my cardio and strength training in the pool for now.  A few thoughts on my first endeavor. 

1.   Confession:  I had intended to start this last week and then had intended to start it on Monday, and then Tuesday.  I sat in the car on those days with my bag packed and ready to go but talked myself out of it each time.  Plenty of excuses were available and prevailed.  The primary obstacle though:  an inclined walk from the parking garage to the entrance of the building.
2.   I still have the locker room anxieties I first discovered in middle school.  The locker room is an awkward place for me.  In Middle school I feared I was under-developed.  Now, I don't want people seeing just how over developed  I am.  Locker rooms are wide open spaces.  Bathroom stalls are too small to navigate a clothing change and I spent much time trying to make the locker room experience one of comfort.  It was not pleasant. 
3.  I do not have the strength or lung capacity yet to freestyle the whole time.  In fact I only got in 3 lengths of freestyle during the 30 minute swim.  The rest of the time I did the side stroke, the back stroke or  just walked the length of the pool.  I did put in a full 30 minutes and for that I am thankful.
4.  It is very uncomfortable when people start gathering around the pool waiting for an open lane.  The temptation is to quit.  I didn't.
5.  There is only one ladder in the pool and I was in the lane furthest from it and I do not have the strength to pull myself up out of the pool without a ladder.  Note to self:  Use the first lane next time. 

My Three Strand Cord......A Reflection

I often compare my life to a mountain climbing journey.  This analogy was affirmed by my grandfather nearly two years ago as he spent the last week of his life describing a journey up a mountain in which he reached the top and wasn’t sure he would make it back.  Eventually, he didn’t.  He stayed.  A few weeks ago I reached another foothold in my climb.  I am not an experienced rock climber.  My only experience is of walking the ledge around the Rock wall that made up the building of Gashes Creek Baptist Church.  I never tried to climb the actual wall though I’m sure some of my peers did.  I do remember it being important to find enough of a rock sticking out to grab hold of to brace myself as I moved my feet along that white ledge.  I’ve heard enough rock climbers/Mountain climbers talk to know that just as it was important to find a good piece of rock to brace myself as I navigated that ledge, it is of great importance to locate those places that are strong and sticking out enough to get your foot on it and brace yourself as you go upward.  A couple of weeks ago I reached such a foothold on my journey.

On June 21, 2013 I processed into Stuart Auditorium at Lake Junaluska to the song Here Am I Lord.  For me that song has brought me to tears every time I have heard it until this day.  Every time I had heard the song before there was a burning desire in my heart to say Here Am I Lord, It is I Lord only to look up the mountain and be unable to find a foothold.  On this day however there was a foothold.  Following the affirmation of my church and the District Committee on Ordained Ministry and two weeks of Licensing School for Local Pastors I was receiving my license to preach.  On June 23, 2013 at Stuart Auditorium at Lake Junaluska Bishop Goodpastor fixed the appointments for the upcoming church year to begin July 21 and there my name was listed as pastor of a two church charge.  I spent the next week reading, reading and reading some more.  My head was consumed with this overwhelming, challenging responsibility but elated nonetheless at the fact that I had finally found the foothold and was holding on for dear life.  Sometimes though what we think is a strong foothold turns out not to be so strong and crumbles beneath our feet, sending us falling below.  If we don’t have a strong belay man up top we might just fall to our death.  Such was the case with this foothold.

 On July 3^rd, just two days into my appointment, the foothold crumbled.  I was informed that the appointment was not going to work out.  I was crushed, heartbroken, and angry.  That is not the story I want to tell.  I want to tell the story of the belay man up top and the kind of rope used to hold me in suspension until another foothold is located.

After spending the first 24 hours crying and feeling sorry for myself, I did the only thing I knew to do.  I went back to the routine of spiritual discipline I had set for myself.  I started my day coming to God through the readings at Commonprayer.net and the readings in a book given to us at licensing school:  “A Guide to Prayer for All Who Seek God.”  I discovered there the best Belay man anyone could ask for, I found God.  Each day as I went to the common prayer site, as I opened up the suggested scriptures and read and as I read reflections and prayers in both, I heard God speaking precisely to my situation. A few things I heard in the days that followed:

 

1.      From the story of Gideon I heard God say.  “Go in the strength you have…..Am I not sending you?”  Judges 6:14

2.      Also from the story of Gideon I heard God say remember the times God has been with you when you have been at this point before.

3.      In the margins of my Bible regarding this story I had written “Sometimes when you ask where God is in a situation you might want to look in the mirror for he might be sending for you as the soldier……As the one to lead the “fight.” 

4.      From the Epistle of Acts I was reminded that church work is not free from conflict.  Paul and Barnabas split over conflict, each going his own way.  Both were used to further the kingdom.  Paul picked a partner in Timothy who was part Jew and part Greek.  He had not been circumcised.  Paul did have him get circumcised in order to appease the Pharisees but they went forward and ministered together and “The churches were strengthened in the faith and grew daily in numbers.”

5.      Through the continued story of Gideon God reminds me that it would be easy to let go and go right back down to the bottom of the mountain and a prayer is given to me to “Deliver me from myself O God and bring me home to life with you.” (commonprayer.net accessed July 10, 2013)

6.      The same day in two different readings from Acts God reminds me that sometimes when God sends you, you are rejected by those to whom you are sent.  God instructs us in those moments to dust off our feet or clothes at the door and protest and move on.

7.      God told me “Do not be afraid, keep on speaking, do not be silent for I am with you, and no one is going to attack and harm you because I have many people in this city.” 

 

It just amazed me.  It shouldn’t have.  What I have learned from this is that God is always present with us if only we seek God.  If we make time to daily reflect in God’s word and be in prayer, we will find the guidance we need.  I’m not talking about going to your Bible, randomly opening it and dropping your finger on a verse and saying it is from God.  I am talking about a daily routine of guided scripture reading, reflection and prayer.  Ecclesiastes 4:12 ends with this phrase: “A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.  Routine Daily Scripture reading, reflection and prayers are the first of the three strands of the cord that is holding me.

            The second strand of the cord is the support of family, friends, and colleagues.  As I began sharing the news with select persons in my circle, I received an outpouring of support and prayers.  Some of the support came from places I never imagined.  Another Lesson that I was reminded of is the importance of having a core group of people around you to share life with and I am so thankful for the amazing circle that I have. One might say I have multiple circles inside one giant circle of God’s amazing love.  One of those circles is the church of my birth, Ecclesia Baptist church in Fairview, NC.  This leads me to the third strand of the cord.

            The lectionary scripture today which I had planned to preach my inaugural sermon from was the story of the Good Samaritan.  I had it all planned out in my head.  I haven’t yet put it to paper.  The focus was going to be “who is our neighbor.”  I had already decided to return to Ecclesia this morning to worship in the place that my family of origin worships every week.  This morning as I was scrolling through face book posts one from Bishop Ken Carter, Bishop of the Florida Conference of the UMC, caught my eye.  He was posting “deeper questions” from the text of the story of the Good Samaritan.  One of those questions was “where is the inn for us, the place of healing?”  That was one question I had not considered in my studies.  Today, that place for me became the church of my birth, Ecclesia Baptist church.  Some of you who know me are saying “Gashes Creek Baptist was the place of your birth, Ecclesia Baptist has only been in existence a few years, and you are much older than it.”  This morning Pastor Steven Norris reminded me what Ecclesia means.  It means “A gathering of people.” It is not a building.  A building with a name is not a church; the people that gather are the church, wherever they may gather.  A few years back the church I grew up in went through some irreconcilable differences and members parted ways just as Paul and Barnabas did.  From that was born Ecclesia Baptist Church.  It is there that many people that I gathered with growing up attend each Sunday, thus for me it is the Ecclesia of my birth.  Just as God provided for me within my daily time in Scripture, reflection and prayer, God provided for me through his prophet Pastor Steven Norris this morning as he reflected on the passage of the raising of Lazarus from the dead.  There were three words for me.  The words from a poem he recited, “Because He Has Risen, by Gerard Kelly, resonated deeply for me...  Secondly I was reminded in his sermon that Jesus is the resurrection.  Wherever Jesus is, there new life springs up.  I need to keep searching for the places where Jesus shows up.  Finally the words of the closing song, Awake, by Josh White, gave voice to all that I have been feeling.  .  The tears flowed as I sang along and the tears cleansed and healed.  The third strand of the cord:  a place of healing. 

            So my friends when you reach up to take foot of a foothold only to find it crumbling beneath your feet know that God is your belay man on top and he is holding you by a three strand cord that cannot be quickly broken:   

1.      Words of encouragement and guidance through daily reflection on the scripture and prayer.

2.      The support of a close circle of family, friends and colleagues.

3.      A place of healing.

Make sure you have these strands handy.   

“On Belay, Climb on.”  

Thanks be to God. 

Note:  to Hear Steven Norris's full sermon from July 14, 2013 go to http://www.ecclesiabaptist.org/july-2013.html  it should be uploaded soon. 

It is Finished!

My second first year of seminary has officially drawn to a close following my last and hardest final exam today which was in history.  I find history fascinating but my brain has never had an easy time of retaining historical information.  As you have likely figured out this semester was packed full and I've had no time to keep this blog updated as frequently as I would like.  Early in the semester I made a move from Atlanta to Woodstock and am commuting from Woodstock on the days I am in school.  It has taken a lot of adjustment to learn to navigate early morning traffic in the metro Atlanta area. It means early to rise.  Like 5:00 AM. Those of you who know me well know that has been no easy adjustment.  Just this morning I set like 5 alarms to make sure that I got to my exam on time.  I did, not that it did me any good. 

I have learned much this semester but my two favorite things were my history colloquy group and my History of Early Christian Women Class.  I had both of these on Wednesdays so Wednesdays became quickly my favorite day of the week.  My peers in both of those classes added so much to my learning. 

So much has changed for me since September of 2011 when I first had a conversation with my district superintendent about going to graduate school.  I never dreamed I would now be finishing my first year at Emory University.  It still just blows my mind. 

I have so many people to thank that I fear leaving people off.  On top of that list though goes my family whose life has changed as dramatically as mine if not more so.  They have been troopers.  Also to everyone who has assisted with the care of David.  My Uncle and his wife have changed their lives dramatically to show hospitality to David.  Hospitality is one of the things they do best. My parents have pinch hit when necessary and Leigh Anne's family has helped out when we found ourselves without a worker right at the end of the semester.  Of course I could not have done any of this without the hospitality of my Georgia Families.  Both my cousin and her husband and my Aunt and Uncle for the tremendous hospitality they have shown me in opening up their homes to me. 

Then there are those who have provided monetary support either through formal scholarship or support of the book fund or gas money slipped into my pocket here and there. 

I also must mention my editors Carol Fox and Sally Hundley who on the rare occasion that I got a draft done before the final hour were kind enough to stop what they were doing and edit my papers. 

Then there are all those people who have lifted me and held me close in prayer. 

Wait......there is more news.  I am forever indebted to my wonderful church family, Longs United Methodist Church in Bethel and our pastor, Rennie Salata for affirming my call to ministry and sending me before the district committee ordained ministry.  On April 9, 2013 The Smokey Mountain District Committee on Ordained Ministry approved my request for becoming a candidate for ordained ministry and also approved my becoming licensed for ministry.  I attend licensing school for two weeks beginning Sunday night.  In June at Annual Conference I will receive my license as a licensed local pastor for the Smoky Mountain District of the United Methodist Church where I have been appointed to serve a two church charge beginning in July!  Like I said, it has been quite a ride. 

Stay tuned as I continue to walk this journey. 

Psalms of Imprecation---And other stuff

I am now two weeks into my second semester at Candler School of Theology.  This week as I sat in old testament I was reminded of A Sunday a couple of years ago that I preached for Longs United Methodist Church where I am now a member.  I had chosen the text for the sermon but had not chosen the psalter.  The pastor had not provided me with a bulletin ahead of time and I did not take the time to look up the Psalm of the morning before I read it aloud to the congregation.  I got up and announced the Psalter for the morning, Psalm 137, and began to read:

"By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept
when we remembered Zion.
² There on the poplars
we hung our harps,
³ for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

⁴ How can we sing the songs of the Lord
while in a foreign land?
⁵ If I forget you, Jerusalem,
may my right hand forget its skill.
⁶ May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth
if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem
my highest joy.

⁷ Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did
on the day Jerusalem fell.
“Tear it down,” they cried,
“tear it down to its foundations!”
⁸ Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,
happy is the one who repays you
according to what you have done to us.
⁹ Happy is the one who seizes your infants
and dashes them against the rocks." (NIV, from Biblegateway.com)

 

Imagine me stopping half way through that line and saying it slowly, unsurely and with shock in my voice.  I was mortified to then follow those words with "The word of God for the people of God."  Really, the word of God?  Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks?  The word of God.  I just had to follow that up with something.  I couldn't declare that the word of God and say nothing more.  I was unsure of mysef but one thing I was very sure of was that I knew God would not condone taking people's children and dashing them against rocks.  I just said timeout, I have to say that we need to remember when we approach the bible that men wrote these words.  Men who have human emotions and who pour their hearts out to God wrote these words.  I then went on to the hymn to follow it.  I remember nothing else about that day.  I don't know what I preached, what hymns we sang, but I that Psalm has stuck with me. 

I am happy to say that this psalm was the subject of one of our assigned readings this week and was further addressed by my wonderful Old Testament professor, Dr. Joel LeMon.   There are many ways of approaching these Psalms of Imprecation (meaning curse).  The one that resonated the most with me was to view these psalms as a "letting go and a holding back."  For example the person who wrote this Psalm is writing from the "banks of Babylon" indicating they are in exile longing for their home that had been taken and torn down by the Babylonians.  They cry out in their anguish to their God that they know to be a God of justice.  They let Go of their violent thougts by pouring them out to their God of refuge and hope.  (the letting go)  They do not enact this violence themselves (the holding back) but give the desires of their heart to God and allow the divine to be the judge. 

I had a moment this week of needing to let go/hold back.  I was the victim of a crime.  I have never been the victim of a crime committed by someone I didn't know before.  I went out to my car Tuesday morning, patch on and gym bad in hand to find my glove box open.  I looked up and saw glass in the drivers seat.  Someone had been in search of the GPS that belonged in the mount that was in clear site.  The GPS and all other electronics were in the house.  The theif got away with about 25.00 and a wallet full of discount/reward cards.  My initial reaction was to drop my shoulders in a sigh of defeat as I turned around and went back to the house, calling my cousin to let me in so I could begin the calls to the police and the insurance company.  As I walked into the house I threw my bookbag down on the couch and threw my keys toward my bookbag and exclaimed "little jerk."  That was the extent of my imprecations against the person who violated my privacy and damaged my property.  I have said that he/she was a respectul thief.  They didn't ramsack my car.  They looked for what they were looking for. They Grabbed what they thought was valuable and left everything else undisturbed.  I ended up missing some class time, being without my car for a couple of days and overall inconvenienced but I did expereince grace.   I experienced grace in the friends who gave me rides.   I experienced grace in my cousin being available to oversee the repair to my car.  I experienced grace in that we didn't have a quiz the morning that I missed class.  I heard a great quote this weeks.  It was someone quoting Good Morning America's Robin Roberts.  "Turn your mess into a message."  So the message from my mess this week is take down your GPS mounts and wipe off the suction circular mark it leaves. 

It is Finished

I wrote the below after my last day of class last semester and forgot to post it.  To update it, I made it through exams and ended my first semester with  3.24 average.  Not to bad for this old lady if I do say so myself.  Looking forward to the next one:

It is official.  I have completed my last class of my second first semester of seminary.  All that is left is final exams and the semester will be completely over.  I learned two things about commuting on this last day of classes.  #1.  Waiting for buses and trains in 30 degree weather is very different then walking from your side door to your car in the mornings.  Coat, Gloves and a hat are a must regardless of your strong dislike for keeping up with said items.  Secondly, If you want to perfectly time your commute with absolutely no waiting time, plan to wait and have something you want to do while you are waiting.  Transportation will be waiting for you at every stop.

Interestingly it seems like these are the kinds of things I have learned my first semester at Emory.  It may have something to do with having already done the first year of seminary once before though it was in the early 90s and was Southern Baptist.  As I have filled out class evaluations it has been hard for me to put my finger on the one big thing I've learned or that I'm taking away.

What I have learned is that I love Atlanta, especially the decatur area.  I've learned more about my cousin and her husband which has been wonderful.  I've learned to love hairless cats.  I've learned how to use public transportation.  I've learned how to get around Atlanta and that if I weren't living with Jessica and Donald I would rent an apartment in Decatur rather than stay for free with my Uncle in Woodstock.  A daily commute between Woodstock and Atlanta is surely the picture of Hell.  I've  learned that at 44 you have to develop a different pattern/method of studying and retaining information than you had when you were 21.  This I am still learning and trying to figure out.  I don't remember as well or as much and my body does not allow for all night cram sessions.  This body needs a full 8 hours of sleep.  I've learned that I need regular chiropractic services.  It's been affirmed to me that my Uncle Stan is just simply one of the top 4 men on the planet.  The other 3 would be his dad and brothers in no particular order because they all have things that are unique to them.  I've learned that those who live with me are sacrificing much more than I am for me to follow God's call on my life.  I've learned that I'm still kind of shy and still have a hard time approaching people face to face to develop new friendships.  ( I know those of you who know me well will have trouble believing this but it is the truth.)  I've learned that when my bladder wakes me up at 4:30 AM I need to stay up which means I should really go to bed earlier.

You may be asking yourself if this is really worth 10,000 dollars.  Well I certainly have learned more.  I just can't narrow it down to one big thing.