OK - it's a bit of a joke, but really, free - that's pretty much how I feel right now. It's been just about two weeks since I had any responsibility at the church and I can't tell you how great it feels! (And yes - I mean that exclamation point!!!)
I wondered how this was going to feel. Would I grieve? Would I regret my decision? Would I long to be back in the fray of the church leadership world? So far the answer to all of those questions is a resounding, NO! (Another exclamation point!) I had a crazy dream the other night that I "forgot" I wasn't working at the church any more and showed up for staff meeting. No one seemed to notice, so I participated like normal. Then I went to my office and discovered that it had been painted with murals on every wall, and there were at least 3 people working there. I suddenly remembered that I didn't work there anymore. I laughed and walked out. It didn't even bother me that everything had changed. That's really how I feel. I know things are different now and (don't take this wrong) I don't care. I've shaken my head a couple of times at some of the changes I've heard about, but it just really does not bother me.
I get up every day with my own agenda and I love it. I may not love it so much in a few weeks when I start to feel the financial pinch, but right now I feel that it is a gift. I've been working hard on my writing for class (and I'd better get back to that right now...) and enjoying my family. I've been cooking dinner again (my husband likes that), I'm not spending nearly as much money on eating out and groceries. I've been exercising again and eating better. All in all, this has been the best decision I've made in a very long time.
Only God knows what the future holds. Maybe after a time I'll be ready to jump back into the church leadership world again. But so far I've loved just going to church (or not). I've completely entered into worship and engaged in the teaching. And when I go home, I take that feeling of peace home instead being exhausted and already thinking about all I have to do for the next week.
So Lord, what's next? Only He knows, but for now I'm going to completely enjoy this freedom.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Friday, May 25, 2012
These Fragile Days
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Wade Lowrey, dead? There they were, the Facebook messages one after another expressing sadness and shock; yet each one laced with hope and joy. My friend Wade died last night. He was only 34.
Within one week I lost two dear friends - both of them under age 40. Much, much too young to die. At the same time, a tiny one week old baby is clinging precariously to life in a Seattle hospital and my 73 year old sister-in-law is living what appear to be her last days. My friend Jen at 83 is talking a lot about this lately. She suffered a small stoke a few months back and feels the tug of heaven more each day. I know she (not so) secretly wishes that Jesus would just carry her to heaven as she sleeps one night - I think it might just be God's humor to let her outlive all of us.
I know that this earthly life is temporary. I know it, yet I don't always live that way. I've been thinking about what really matters in life so much these past few weeks. As I prepare to move from Chehalis and leave my dear friends at Bethel Church, I've weighed my words and thought much about what I want to say to each one. It's a little weird really - like preparing for your own funeral. So many kind words spoken. So many tears of good-bye. I'm thankful for this opportunity to say important things and to hear some as well.
This life is so short - these days so fragile.
"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." These words were spoken by the Apostle Paul. We too live in this tension of longing to fulfill every moment of this earthly life that God has planned for us, yet also longing to see Jesus face.
Until that day sweet friends. Live. Live every moment to the fullest. Don't waste one of these fragile days.
Within one week I lost two dear friends - both of them under age 40. Much, much too young to die. At the same time, a tiny one week old baby is clinging precariously to life in a Seattle hospital and my 73 year old sister-in-law is living what appear to be her last days. My friend Jen at 83 is talking a lot about this lately. She suffered a small stoke a few months back and feels the tug of heaven more each day. I know she (not so) secretly wishes that Jesus would just carry her to heaven as she sleeps one night - I think it might just be God's humor to let her outlive all of us.
I know that this earthly life is temporary. I know it, yet I don't always live that way. I've been thinking about what really matters in life so much these past few weeks. As I prepare to move from Chehalis and leave my dear friends at Bethel Church, I've weighed my words and thought much about what I want to say to each one. It's a little weird really - like preparing for your own funeral. So many kind words spoken. So many tears of good-bye. I'm thankful for this opportunity to say important things and to hear some as well.
This life is so short - these days so fragile.
"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." These words were spoken by the Apostle Paul. We too live in this tension of longing to fulfill every moment of this earthly life that God has planned for us, yet also longing to see Jesus face.
Until that day sweet friends. Live. Live every moment to the fullest. Don't waste one of these fragile days.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
A Successful Saturday
Finally a Saturday at home all day. What am I talking about? Finally a DAY at home all day with no where to go and no people to meet and no expectations except my own.
I drank coffee. I chatted with my son. I cleaned toilets. I checked Facebook and email. I attacked those darn, dead crocus leaves. (Why, oh why do we have so many? Oh - that's right - because I love them in March) I got one bed cleaned out and looked at the other, but listened to my aching back and went in the house. I drank about a quart of water. I checked email and Facebook. I threw in a load of laundry. I drank some more coffee. I ate an apple. I cooked the meat for spaghetti. I checked Facebook - again. I read the newspaper and turned the pages on my new Country Living magazine. (Does anyone actually read those?) I sat down and finally (after nearly 6 weeks) downloaded the rest of the books for the class I am supposed to finish in a mere 6 weeks. Only 800 pages left to read; a one page synopsis for each book (8 or 9 of them) an 8 page overview of the writer's conference I attended at the end of March, 3 query letters and 3, 2000 word articles to write. Yes. I can do this. I read one short book and about a 3rd of another. And now I feel inspired to write. What am I writing? This poorly written piece of nonsense that no one will ever read that's what. But I'm writing again and I think that's what matters.
My back and shoulders are killing me, but I'm going to write a paragraph on one of those assignments. Then I'm going to sit in the hot tub with my husband and get into bed all warm and relaxed and have a good night's sleep.
That's what I call a successful Saturday.
I drank coffee. I chatted with my son. I cleaned toilets. I checked Facebook and email. I attacked those darn, dead crocus leaves. (Why, oh why do we have so many? Oh - that's right - because I love them in March) I got one bed cleaned out and looked at the other, but listened to my aching back and went in the house. I drank about a quart of water. I checked email and Facebook. I threw in a load of laundry. I drank some more coffee. I ate an apple. I cooked the meat for spaghetti. I checked Facebook - again. I read the newspaper and turned the pages on my new Country Living magazine. (Does anyone actually read those?) I sat down and finally (after nearly 6 weeks) downloaded the rest of the books for the class I am supposed to finish in a mere 6 weeks. Only 800 pages left to read; a one page synopsis for each book (8 or 9 of them) an 8 page overview of the writer's conference I attended at the end of March, 3 query letters and 3, 2000 word articles to write. Yes. I can do this. I read one short book and about a 3rd of another. And now I feel inspired to write. What am I writing? This poorly written piece of nonsense that no one will ever read that's what. But I'm writing again and I think that's what matters.
My back and shoulders are killing me, but I'm going to write a paragraph on one of those assignments. Then I'm going to sit in the hot tub with my husband and get into bed all warm and relaxed and have a good night's sleep.
That's what I call a successful Saturday.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Today I was a goat
The last conversation I had with Amy was last Tuesday. She called because she needed help - lots of help. Her rent was past due and going up $50 every day she didn't pay it. Her kids needed diapers. She was out of contact lens solution. She had a court date the following week and couldn't pay her attorney. She was at her wits end. She claimed to have checked with every agency in town. I have no doubt that she did, but she had already exhausted all her options. She was hoping to get in touch with her Dad who had just returned from Afghanistan and could maybe help her with the attorney's fees. She was worried about losing custody of her boys - four and two. My heart broke for her.
I first met Amy two years ago when she came to me for some pastoral counseling. She had left her husband because of domestic abuse. She took her boys and drove to Utah to stay with family for a couple of weeks. When she returned, she was in trouble with the law for running with the kids. Unfortunately, she had never reported the abuse, so the court system did not believe her. She had no job and very little money. She moved in with a lady from our church who ended up kicking her out after a few weeks.
We helped her financially and she was finally able to get into a low-income apartment but her financial struggles did not end. She had back problems from working at Walmart, but was unable to get on SSI. He husband fought her over child support. Her car broke down repeatedly. She just could not get ahead. And Amy had a heart as big as all outdoors. When she did have a little, she shared it or gave it away.
She brought her kids to church as often as she could. The boys loved "Jesus' house." She loved Jesus too and wanted her boys to grow up loving Jesus more than anything. Whether we were able to help her or not, she was always kind and grateful for what we had done. At the end of every conversation, she always said, "I love you Pastor Vicki."
Those were her words to me last Tuesday afternoon when I told her we could not help her this time. After discussing her situation with our benevolence pastor and administrator and checking to see when we had helped her last, it was decided that we would not give her financial assistance this time. I felt like we should have done something - even if it was just a grocery card. But I called her and told her we could not help. She thanked me for all the help we had given her in the past and told me she loved me. Those were the last words I will ever hear her say. Amy died this morning of an apparent overdose.
My heart is broken and my mind is full of regret. See, I felt like our decision not to help at all lacked compassion. I thought we should have done something. But I did not fight for Amy. The worst of it is, I felt the Holy Spirit say, You could buy her some diapers and contact solution. I thought, Yes, I could. But then I didn't. I meant to, but I didn't. I put her and her problems out of my mind. In the end, it may or may not have helped. But I did not do what little I could. Now two little boys do not have a Mama and I will always wonder if a little kindness would have helped her somehow. The "church" didn't help her, but I could have.
I am grateful for the voice of the Holy Spirit in the middle of this tragedy. I know that I am forgiven, but I never want to forget this moment.
37 “Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? 39 When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’
40 “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’
41 “Then the King will turn to those on the left and say, ‘Away with you, you cursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his demons.
42 For I was hungry, and you didn’t feed me. I was thirsty, and you didn’t give me a drink. 43 I was a stranger, and you didn’t invite me into your home. I was naked, and you didn’t give me clothing. I was sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’
44 “Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and not help you?’
45 “And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’
46 “And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous will go into eternal life.”
I first met Amy two years ago when she came to me for some pastoral counseling. She had left her husband because of domestic abuse. She took her boys and drove to Utah to stay with family for a couple of weeks. When she returned, she was in trouble with the law for running with the kids. Unfortunately, she had never reported the abuse, so the court system did not believe her. She had no job and very little money. She moved in with a lady from our church who ended up kicking her out after a few weeks.
We helped her financially and she was finally able to get into a low-income apartment but her financial struggles did not end. She had back problems from working at Walmart, but was unable to get on SSI. He husband fought her over child support. Her car broke down repeatedly. She just could not get ahead. And Amy had a heart as big as all outdoors. When she did have a little, she shared it or gave it away.
She brought her kids to church as often as she could. The boys loved "Jesus' house." She loved Jesus too and wanted her boys to grow up loving Jesus more than anything. Whether we were able to help her or not, she was always kind and grateful for what we had done. At the end of every conversation, she always said, "I love you Pastor Vicki."
Those were her words to me last Tuesday afternoon when I told her we could not help her this time. After discussing her situation with our benevolence pastor and administrator and checking to see when we had helped her last, it was decided that we would not give her financial assistance this time. I felt like we should have done something - even if it was just a grocery card. But I called her and told her we could not help. She thanked me for all the help we had given her in the past and told me she loved me. Those were the last words I will ever hear her say. Amy died this morning of an apparent overdose.
My heart is broken and my mind is full of regret. See, I felt like our decision not to help at all lacked compassion. I thought we should have done something. But I did not fight for Amy. The worst of it is, I felt the Holy Spirit say, You could buy her some diapers and contact solution. I thought, Yes, I could. But then I didn't. I meant to, but I didn't. I put her and her problems out of my mind. In the end, it may or may not have helped. But I did not do what little I could. Now two little boys do not have a Mama and I will always wonder if a little kindness would have helped her somehow. The "church" didn't help her, but I could have.
I am grateful for the voice of the Holy Spirit in the middle of this tragedy. I know that I am forgiven, but I never want to forget this moment.
The Final Judgment
Matthew 25:31-46
31 “But when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit upon his glorious throne. 32 All the nations will be gathered in his presence, and he will separate the people as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33 He will place the sheep at his right hand and the goats at his left.
34 “Then
the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by
my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the
world. 35 For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. 36 I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’37 “Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? 39 When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’
40 “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’
41 “Then the King will turn to those on the left and say, ‘Away with you, you cursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his demons.
42 For I was hungry, and you didn’t feed me. I was thirsty, and you didn’t give me a drink. 43 I was a stranger, and you didn’t invite me into your home. I was naked, and you didn’t give me clothing. I was sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’
44 “Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and not help you?’
45 “And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’
46 “And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous will go into eternal life.”
Thursday, April 26, 2012
C-C-C-C-Courage!
My life is about to take a dramatic (for me) turn in a new direction. After 22 years on staff and a lifetime of attendance, I'm about to leave my home church and embark on a new season. Last fall my husband took a teaching job that requires an hour drive each way. We wanted to give it a while to settle in to see if this might require a move on our part and so, as the school year is winding down - and the daily drive seems longer with every passing day - we have made the decision to move. Lots of people move. But not us. We are the Rock people. We are Giant Oaks with deep roots.
I've felt this stirring, this shifting, this moving in my spirit for several years now. It was only the job and the drive that motivated my husband however. He just couldn't see any logical reason to leave. Now we have one. Now the door is open. If we do not walk through it now, we never will.
I thought that was my greatest fear - to live and die in the same small town, to never experience life outside Lewis County. I've yearned for a move, prayed for it, actually begged God for it, and now it's here and I'm terrified. But not in the way you'd expect.
I'm excited at the prospect of a new church and making new friends. I've wondered what it would be like to walk into a church, into a community where I have no history. Will people like me? Will I fit? Will I have an opportunity to blossom and grow? Or, will people shut me out, and be threatened by the presence of a new-comer? These are the things I've heard over the years from people who have moved into our little town and into our church. Some, like me have come from a place of authority and position - a place where they were the go-to girl. They have complained - sometimes bitterly - that they can't break into the "clique" - that no one will let them do what they were called to do.
One of the things I don't understand about this move is that while my husband has a job, I have nothing. No new ministry position to step into. I feel that I am just beginning to peak in knowledge, skill and wisdom. I know the call of God is still on my life, yet I am stepping into the black hole called "transition." The very word implies a move into something new - a new direction, position or ministry. I'm afraid that I will get as stuck in the "transition" phase of my life as I have been in this last, long season. I'm afraid I never will actually "transition." I feel exposed and vulnerable.
I'm also afraid that I'm making a mistake. I'm afraid I'll end up like Violet Biggs in It's a Wonderful Life. I'm afraid I'll come slinking sheepishly back to Chehalis. "Silly me. What was I thinking? This is home."
I think that's why the word COURAGE has become my new favorite word. I'm not naturally a courageous person. I'm not a risk taker. But I believe God has opened this door and I'm going to swallow my fear and walk through it. I'm speaking Joshua 1:9 out loud over my life:
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
Because He is with me, I will not fear.
I've felt this stirring, this shifting, this moving in my spirit for several years now. It was only the job and the drive that motivated my husband however. He just couldn't see any logical reason to leave. Now we have one. Now the door is open. If we do not walk through it now, we never will.
I thought that was my greatest fear - to live and die in the same small town, to never experience life outside Lewis County. I've yearned for a move, prayed for it, actually begged God for it, and now it's here and I'm terrified. But not in the way you'd expect.
I'm excited at the prospect of a new church and making new friends. I've wondered what it would be like to walk into a church, into a community where I have no history. Will people like me? Will I fit? Will I have an opportunity to blossom and grow? Or, will people shut me out, and be threatened by the presence of a new-comer? These are the things I've heard over the years from people who have moved into our little town and into our church. Some, like me have come from a place of authority and position - a place where they were the go-to girl. They have complained - sometimes bitterly - that they can't break into the "clique" - that no one will let them do what they were called to do.
One of the things I don't understand about this move is that while my husband has a job, I have nothing. No new ministry position to step into. I feel that I am just beginning to peak in knowledge, skill and wisdom. I know the call of God is still on my life, yet I am stepping into the black hole called "transition." The very word implies a move into something new - a new direction, position or ministry. I'm afraid that I will get as stuck in the "transition" phase of my life as I have been in this last, long season. I'm afraid I never will actually "transition." I feel exposed and vulnerable.
I'm also afraid that I'm making a mistake. I'm afraid I'll end up like Violet Biggs in It's a Wonderful Life. I'm afraid I'll come slinking sheepishly back to Chehalis. "Silly me. What was I thinking? This is home."
I think that's why the word COURAGE has become my new favorite word. I'm not naturally a courageous person. I'm not a risk taker. But I believe God has opened this door and I'm going to swallow my fear and walk through it. I'm speaking Joshua 1:9 out loud over my life:
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
Because He is with me, I will not fear.
Monday, April 16, 2012
One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”
Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’
All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”(Matthew 22:35-40)
Scot McKnight calls this, The Jesus Creed.
Creed is defined:
We Christians are so good at fooling ourselves into thinking that we are living The Jesus Creed. After all - we do love the Lord. We sing it and we say it, but I submit that we - none of us - are very good at living it.
We could do it if it wasn't for that pesky little phrase Jesus added at the end - the part about loving your neighbor. See, John the Apostle clarified it for us. He says if you don't do the latter, you are never able to do the former.
Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him.
This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as
an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us. (1 John 4:7-10)
Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.1 Peter 3:7-9
So I ask along with the religious rulers of the day, "Who is my neighbor?" Nope. On second thought, I'm not really asking the "who" question. I think Jesus explained that pretty well. I want to know how - not who. I want to know what - not who. I want to know when - not who.
How do I love when I just plain don't feel like it - when my neighbor is not a "despised Samaritan", but someone that I am ambivalent towards? Maybe ambivalence is hatred after all.
What does that love really look like in practical terms? Mostly it seems like it looks like TIME. Oh. I hoard my time like a miser hoards pennies.
When does love step in and when does it stand back? Sometimes love propels me right into the middle of something I'd rather stay out of. I have valued safety and security above sacrificial love.
Father - help me love sacrificially, courageously, boldly, no holding back, no more excuses. Help me live The Jesus Creed.
Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’
All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”(Matthew 22:35-40)
Scot McKnight calls this, The Jesus Creed.
Creed is defined:
1. A formal statement of religious belief; a confession of faith.
2. A system of belief, principles, or opinions.We Christians are so good at fooling ourselves into thinking that we are living The Jesus Creed. After all - we do love the Lord. We sing it and we say it, but I submit that we - none of us - are very good at living it.
We could do it if it wasn't for that pesky little phrase Jesus added at the end - the part about loving your neighbor. See, John the Apostle clarified it for us. He says if you don't do the latter, you are never able to do the former.
Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him.
This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as
an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us. (1 John 4:7-10)
Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.1 Peter 3:7-9
So I ask along with the religious rulers of the day, "Who is my neighbor?" Nope. On second thought, I'm not really asking the "who" question. I think Jesus explained that pretty well. I want to know how - not who. I want to know what - not who. I want to know when - not who.
How do I love when I just plain don't feel like it - when my neighbor is not a "despised Samaritan", but someone that I am ambivalent towards? Maybe ambivalence is hatred after all.
What does that love really look like in practical terms? Mostly it seems like it looks like TIME. Oh. I hoard my time like a miser hoards pennies.
When does love step in and when does it stand back? Sometimes love propels me right into the middle of something I'd rather stay out of. I have valued safety and security above sacrificial love.
Father - help me love sacrificially, courageously, boldly, no holding back, no more excuses. Help me live The Jesus Creed.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Snowmageddon 2012
We are weather lightweights here in the Pacific Northwest. We have a predictable weather menu: Rain, sun, sun breaks, rain, repeat. When something out of the ordinary happens we get pretty excited. This week has been one of those weeks. After a ridiculously mild December (one of the driest on record) January was cruising along much like it always does - that is until Sunday.
Snow hit. We really like snow here. We don't get much and when we do it usually lasts a day or two - just enough for the kids to get a day off school, sled, build snow forts and snow people - and then it's back to normal. When the weather forecast was predicting record snowfall, most of us didn't believe it. (Well - I didn't believe it) I'm not sure why, but weather forecasting is pretty unreliable in this part of the country. I guess I'm thankful that we don't have tornadoes and such - we'd never know what hit us. Sunday's snowfall was nice, but pretty normal. 2 - 3 inches, then rain. None to speak of on Monday. A few more inches on Tuesday. Then about 1:00 a.m. Wednesday morning it started to fall. It fell, and fell and fell. Seventeen inches worth! What? The weather forecast was right???? Then the temperature hovered right around freezing all day. (OK. The weather forecast wasn't EXACTLY right. It was supposed to rain.) Nightime brought freezing temperatures and then freezing rain. Freezing rain on top of seventeen inches of snow. Yea, we're not going anyplace for a while.
It's been a beautiful week for me. I had a lot of writing to do and this forced snow retreat has been just the ticket. I finally feel on top of things and might actually make a writing deadline without having to ask for an extension! Hooray for snow!!!!
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