Thanksgiving Standing Stones 2013

I have a tradition at Thanksgiving to make a list of “standing stones”—the things that I look back on in the year and say “look at what God has done.”  Last year was full of big and joyful milestones, like being ordained.  This year is a bit more subdued, especially the last few months.  But still, I am thankful for the opportunities and gifts God has given me this year. 


Travelling to the UK for three weeks in January.  I got to experience the church and culture, which despite common stereotypes, caused me to say look what God is doing!





Performing my first baptisms of two young people that came to the United States as refugees.  Their faith is rich, deep, and growing as they have faced many difficulties in their short lives.  I am thankful that I got to be a small part of their stories.




I got to go on lots of short camping trips this Spring, Summer, and Fall.  It was wonderful to spend lots of time outside hiking, eating, reading, watching birds, and enjoying the wonders of God’s creation.  (If you’re curious, the photo is from May in Tahquamenon State Park Rivermouth Semi-Modern Campground.)


My pastoral residency at Church of the Servant, which ended at the end of July.  This one is definitely bittersweet—I really miss being a pastor there, but I am so overwhelmingly grateful for the two years I got to spend there learning, loving, preaching, visiting, baptizing, welcoming, and being loved.




The two weeks I got to spend in Colorado and Wyoming during October.  I spent time with Mary and Jared (my sister and brother-in-law), and my friend Allison and her family.  I saw a whole new part of God’s creation—an exhilarating part.  I even climbed mountains, sort of.  At least I went on a short hike above the treeline.  


Having a spiritual director who helps me each month to see what God is doing in my life.  I am thankful for her support and encouragement that God is working in me, even when I can’t see exactly what God is doing yet.


I am so thankful for the gift of friends who have listened to me, waited with me, encouraged me, prayed for me, discerned with me, and loved me.  I really would not have made it through these years without them.


“Save us, Lord our God, and gather us from the nations, that we may give thanks to your holy name and glory in your praise.”

-- Psalm 106:47

Photo of spiritual direction feet by Michelle Kroll, used under a Creative Commons License.  All other photos are my own.

On Sacred Rhythms

Life has rhythms.  The rhythm of leaves budding, growing, coloring, and dropping.  The rhythm of people growing up, leaving home, marrying, having children, raising children, retiring, and dying.  The rhythm of the sun coming up and sun going down. 

And the spiritual life has rhythms, too.  The rhythm of advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, and ordinary time.  The rhythm of baptism, profession of faith, serving the church.  The rhythm of prayer and Bible reflection. 

Ruth Haley Barton wrote a book called Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation.  It is a book about what are classically called spiritual disciplines.  We might also call them spiritual practices or spiritual rhythms.  They are the practices that give a rhythm to our spiritual life.  Sometimes that rhythm is imperceptible, or we wish that we had a faster rhythm.  But even when we’d choose a different rhythm, God works through them.

Another one of my favorite books about spiritual practices is called Flunking Sainthood.  The author, Jana Riess spent a year focusing on a variety of spiritual practices.  She starts the year as a “lighthearted effort to read spiritual classics while attempting a year of faith-related disciplines like fasting, Sabbath keeping, chanting, and the Jesus Prayer” (pg. ix).  Each month she picks a discipline, reads some spiritual classics related to that discipline and attempts to practice it.  And she struggles, even fails, with all twelve. 

After a few months and a significant life experience, she found that “Although I didn’t see it while I was doing the practices themselves or even while I was writing the chapters in this book, the power of spiritual practice is that it forges you stealthily, as you entertain angels unawares” (Flunking Sainthood, pg. 168).  God used both her attempts at these different practices, and even the process of failing, to shape her to become more Christ-like and more able to reflect Christ to the world.  She, like thousands of Christians before her, discovered the power of spiritual practices, sacred rhythms, to shape Christian life.

Growing up, I don’t remember hearing about spiritual disciplines or spiritual practices as a group or term.  And yet, we had plenty of them.  We read Bible story books or other devotional material after dinner.  My dad sang to us before we went to sleep.  We went to church twice on Sunday.  My parents taught me to tithe.  We took an extended family spring break trip to do hurricane relief in South Carolina.  There were Christian rhythms in our life.  They shaped my Christian life and how I practice my faith. 

As I grew up, some of my rhythms have developed and changed. They have shaped the rhythms of my life as a single woman.  Like Riess, I have certainly failed some.  Over the summer, I’m going to be reflecting on some spiritual practices that have been important in my life, or that I would like to experiment with.  I have plans to explore writing prayers, meeting with a spiritual director, keeping the Sabbath, and doing justice, among others.  I hope that I, and my readers, will learn new rhythms and that those rhythms would shape us to become more Christ-like.  

Drum picture by Martha Riley, used under a Creative Commons License.

Praying hands picture by C Jill Reed, used under a Creative Commons License.

We Will, God Helping Us

I just came home from a vacation to the U.P. (Michigan’s Upper Penninsula).  One of my best friends got married in St. Ignace (just across the bridge) this weekend.  We had all of the usual wedding “stuff”—pretty dresses, special hair, a rehearsal dinner, wedding party photos, a ceremony, reception dinner, cake cutting, and dancing. 

The happy couple!

The thing that really stands out to me about this weekend is community.  Liz and I are part of a group of friends that she also asked to be in the wedding.  We all lived in Grand Rapids for a while, but many have moved away—Chicago, Laramie, St. Ignace.  We miss spending our Saturday evenings watching TV and having deep discussions with each other (yes, those two things can happen simultaneously, but are not necessarily related).  We miss having holiday parties together and celebrating birthdays (birthday dinner before a Good Friday service and birthday cake after, yes we did that once).  We miss laughing and crying as we did life together.  We have walked together through the rigors of grad school and ordination, finding and starting new jobs, and relationships progressing from dating to marriage to pregnancy. 

This weekend was a beautiful reunion for us.  Four of us drove up north together and then we stayed in a hotel suite together.  We watched parts of random movies on cable, explored St. Ignace, celebrated the coming children, and laughed together.  It was a wonderful continuation and renewal of our friendship and the community that has meant so much to us.  

     

Friends with the Mackinaw Bridge!  (I'm behind the camera)

This community is important for my own life in many ways.  And it is also important for the health of the new marriage that we witnessed and celebrated.  Even though our culture often says that marriage is all about two people, marriage doesn’t exist in a vacuum.  Marriages need community, too.

The groom had a group of friends and family gathered, too, along with many people from the churches that he serves.  Together, I hope all of these communities take seriously the promises we made as part of the wedding:

“Families, friends,

and all those gathered here

with Jeremy and Liz,

will you support and care for them,

sustain and pray for them

in times of trouble,

give thanks with them

in times of joy,

honor the bonds of their covenant,

and affirm the love of God

reflected in their life together?”

We promised “we will.”  We will, God helping us, live out these promises.  We will be a community that will support this couple in their marriage.

As their symbol of unity, we celebrated communion together.  This is common in Lutheran weddings (Jeremy’s Lutheran).  It was a beautiful act of worship to celebrate how Christ brings us together in love.  We are united with Christ in baptism.  And through Christ, we are united to each other.  Some are united in matrimony, and we are all united in the Church.  This unity was the joy we celebrated this weekend in a wedding ceremony and late night chats.

The St. Ignace lighthouse outside the reception site

Photos from several friends, shared on Facebook, except for the final photo which is a personal photo, all May 2013.

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: My Mother's Day Prayer

God who comforts people like a mother comforts her child (Is. 66:13),

I have such mixed feelings about this day.

I love my mom.  Thank you for her. 

Thank you for her love and dedication.

Thank you that she always believes in me and thinks I’m great.

Thank you for her prayers and that she taught me about you.

Thank you for her gift of teaching and all I’ve learned from her—how to read, how to bake, how to play softball, how to serve, and how to love.

And I'm thankful for my many friends that are moms.

Being a mom is a hard calling.  Make your presence known to them when they are awake at 3am feeding an infant or cleaning up vomit.   

Give them wisdom as they begin to instill values and habits in their young hearts.

Help them to teach their precious ones about you and model a life of faith.  May all of these little ones grow up to love and follow you.

But there is also sadness in my heart on this day.

I wish that I was a mother, too.

I know that it is a hard calling, and I wish that it was mine, too.

My heart is full of wonderings…

Where do I fit when it seems that motherhood = womanhood?

Will there be a day when motherhood is my calling?

How long might I have to wait?

How do I keep my baptismal promises to the children in my community?

And there is sadness in my heart that the church hurts women today.

Instead of a place that pours salt into already open wounds, 

may we be a place of honesty and love.

May we be a place where it is okay to shed tears for the children you wish you had,

or the children that lived only in your womb,

or the child that has wandered away from then family,

or your own desire for an good relationship with your mom. 

Today in particular, may we be a place of lament, as well as praise. 

May we be a safe and loving community and not an exclusive and hurtful one.

So God, take my thanksgiving and questions, joy and sadness. 

Help me to live with it all. 

Comfort me on the dark days.  Comfort others for whom this is an excruciating day.    

Help me to know that you haven’t forgotten me, like a mother who doesn’t forget the baby at her breast (Is 49:15).

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Personal Photo, May 2013.

Singleness is Sanctifying, Too

I’ve often heard that marriage is sanctification.  Sanctification is the theological word for becoming holy or becoming like Christ.  In a good marriage, people learn about themselves and getting along with others.  There is no denying God uses marriage to help people grow in their faith and become more Christ-like.  The problem is that every time we say this, it implies that you can’t really be sanctified if you aren’t married.  It reinforces the notion that serving God as a married person is better than serving God as a single person. 

Sanctification does not require marriage.  There are many ways that God sanctifies us.  Even more, marriage is not necessarily a better or quicker way to sanctification.  In fact, singleness can be part of sanctification, too.  Being single is a different training ground, but I truly believe it too can be fertile soil for becoming Christ-like.    

 One area of fertile soil is identity and trust.  Without another person, I am forced to deepen my identity in Christ.  I am not tempted to think that my boyfriend or husband is able to complete me.  I am who I am not because of my relationship status or who I am connected to.  I am a baptized daughter of God.  This is true of all of us who are in Christ, but being single takes away a temptation to find identity elsewhere. 

I have learned to trust God in different ways than if I was married.  I don’t have another person to rely on.  If I don’t have a job, there is no one else to support me.  If I have a stressful meeting, no one is waiting at home to comfort me.  If I need to make a decision, there is no one to help make the decision.  Instead, I live by faith.  I am learning to trust that God will provide for my needs.  I am learning to trust that God hears my prayers and binds up my broken heart.  I am learning to trust that God leads me and guides me in decision making.  Being single is fertile soil for sanctification in trust.     

This might sound counter-intuitive, but I have found being single to be a place to learn about community and hospitality.  You have to be intentional about developing community, when you don’t have built-in community with your spouse (although I would argue you still need to develop community with others when you’re married).  It takes work to maintain relationships.  There’s a learning curve to relationships—I have had to learn how to be vulnerable and let others in.  But those relationships can be sweet, friends that are family.  They are a community that has walked through some dark valleys, empty desserts, and sun-filled meadows with me.  I am better at all of the one-anothers we find in scripture because of this community.

 

The really awesome empty tomb cake my mom made for our Easter celebration!

Being single is also an opportunity to offer hospitality to others.  Before even offering hospitality, being single has given me a different insight into what it is like to be at the margins.  I don’t fit into what society expects, and it has made me more conscious of other people who might be feeling a bit out of place.  I want my life to be one that welcomes people in and gives them a place to feel at home.  What I desire to offer isn’t the stereotype of hospitality: dinner parties for couples or huge family dinners.  There is freedom associated with singleness and the type of hospitality I can offer.  I don’t have to figure out which family I’m going to spend holidays with.  This year, my parents came to celebrate Thanksgiving at my apartment with some of the refugees I work with.  At Easter, I took a family to my parents’ house for dinner.  I still have lots to learn (sanctification is a process, after all), but it is definitely a way that God is forming me.   

Getting married is not the only way to become sanctified.  There are plenty of sanctifying experiences and situations that come along with being single.  And so for all of us—whether married or single—my prayer is that we will “grow in every way more and more like Christ, who is the head of his body, the church” (Ephesians 4:15, NLT).


Personal photos taken on Iona, Scotland and at my parents' house in Michigan, taken in January and March 2013.