Get Out Of The Way...

I'm pondering how much, and how often, we get in our own way.

I think about all the times we're asked to do something, something that will be really good for us, or for those around us, and we get all tangled up in doubt and second-guessing ourselves and the circumstances. We make excuses that become self-fulfilling prophecies. I wonder if Noah would have had as much trouble moving on faith as many of us do, whether we would even be here to talk about it.

God, I suspect, has more patience with us than we often rightly deserve. Like a parent who can calmly and capably repeat themselves 100 times until their child gets it right, until they understand. I hope that I, and others, are listening to what is being said to us, and through us. I hope that I have the faith to keep trying as long as God will keep repeating those instructions, to do what is asked of me.

In this time of year when we're busily making way for all the trimmings and trappings of a 21st Century Christmas... and hopefully also for that precious Christ-child, I pray that we all remember that we are on assignment. We're on a mission to make a highway through the desert... through the barren places of our own spirituality, and the desolate places in the world... make a road that will take us right to the source of love and light if we let it. Each of us, one voice, crying in the wilderness. I believe that voice is one, but not alone. It was never alone. This path has been walked countless times by numberless souls. Prophets, shepherds, servants, magi, brave young girls, wise old men, fools, saints, sinners, dreamers... and maybe even Jesus himself. And the voice of God, there the whole time, was and is patiently, gently guiding us.

Listen. Try it again. Don't give up. This work can be done... you can make this path, though the hills, the valleys, the curved places. God does not give up on us. God does not grow weary. Stop. Redirect yourself. Get out of the way so that you can make God's way. In the wilderness of our souls then, the road will be straight, and the desert will bloom.

Thoughts For The Day.

"Many demolitions are actually renovations." -Jalaluddin Rumi, poet and mystic (1207-1273)

Forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye.
--Colossians 3:13

Grace

The freely given, unmerited favor and love of God. God's grace is with me when I fail, when I challenge, when I am hurtful, when I am selfish, when I fear. By the grace of God - all of these oh so human trappings can be shed and I can become vessal to transport God's love to others. NEUCC - our family may be dysfunctional at times, but you are still my church family, and I still love you all and GOD IS STILL SPEAKING! In this advent season, I am praying for quiet and peace and openness so that I can hear what God is trying to tell me. God is shouting at Holly. I believe God is whispering to me - don't be afraid to love unconditionally, let it come from Me.

Annual Advent Post

It seems like every year I have to do a post around Advent. Maybe this is just the time of year when I get inspired...

In the United Church of Christ, we believe that "God is Still Speaking."

God is still speaking to the church, still guiding us, still growing us, still challenging us. I have been, along with many of our congregants, EXTRA challenged in the last 48 hours or so. God is still speaking to us as individuals... every moment of every day of our lives, there is the chance that God will say something to any one of us... it might be a great thing, or a small thing. Sometimes God speaks with silence, and sometimes God shouts at us in a deafening roar.

I finally, reluctantly joined Facebook this year. After some painful and cathartic moments in a church meeting, I came home to find the following things posted at random by fellow Facebookers:

Zinger of the day part 1: “Any fool can criticize, condemn, and complain but it takes character and self control to be understanding and forgiving.” Dale Carnegie

Zinger of the day part 2: "Traditions are group efforts to keep the unexpected from happening."

Zinger of the day part 3: A motivational video that talked about upping your output just a little bit more to achieve great things.

God is shouting at me right now... Now I have to figure out what to do with that.

Attitude adjuster needed

Hi, we need help. We don't have the money for anything. We can't start any new programs because no one will come. We don't have any young people getting involved. We need all of the families with children to sit at the back of the church because they're annoying. We can't do outreach ministry because we really don't like people that much. Did I mention that money was a concern? We're putting a lot of effort into some fundraisers that we could be putting into new programs if only people would attend them, which they won't. If only we had some money and some more members.

People are making copies of music and we're not sure that should be allowed. People are blocking the worship center with their praise and worship and music. The cross and altar are for putting flowers and rocks and moss and pretty material all over it. And worship. No one is joining the choir. Dang it, I need some fricking help up here in the choir section. I can't carry these people all by myself. We're getting discouraged, our choir is. It had been almost two weeks and you hadn't hired a choir director yet. Now it has been seven months.

Our Council meetings are sad because we have no money. People don't like each other because we have no money. No dinero. People need to contribute more money to our church. We can't resolve any issues either, because I'm not going to work with you and deep down, you're a nice person and you won't confront real problems anyway. I'm going to ignore the things you have to say anyway.

We need help. Buy a ticket to our fundraiser. Bring your friends to buy our food. This is the only time we ask you to bring people that you know.

Advent Is...

Let me set this up for you...

Yesterday (Sunday) was the first Sunday of Advent. Our liturgist had read the first scripture for the day, and about half of the second one. She closed her Bible and then said "oops, I didn't finish that one. Hold on while I get back to it." or something to that effect. Then she said that we could all enjoy that "pregnant pause" while pondering the first part of the scripture lesson.

I love that phrase "pregnant pause"... it's been rolling around in my head all day. I thought about it while my pastor and I, with other friends, talked about the season of Advent and what that means. I am up out of bed at nearly half past twelve because that phrase was chewing at my brain.

Pregnant Pause may be the tidiest summation of advent that we have. It's a little space of time in our lives where we anxiously await the coming of something... a something that is the Best Sort Of Surprise (I feel very A.A. Milne in typing that) because you know that it's coming, and you're excited about it anyway. There are lots of discussions right now, I'm sure, about Advent, and it's meaning. Whether this should be a time of spare, austere, Lenten-style preparation, or a frenetic Black Friday-style preparation. I feel like they're two very different sorts... but maybe neither one is really what Advent is about. When Christ came to us in the simplest, smallest form of hope that we could readily grasp and digest and understand, there was a gift that we didn't anticipate, maybe. A gift of knowing how to prepare for that type of hope. To me, Advent is a lot like waiting for a baby... any baby. It's a time to reflect on all the wonderful things you want the world to be for new little person. A time to take even just a few small steps towards realizing that dream... a little extra kindness. A tiny bit of charity. Some small change, an extra smile. As a mother, I think of the light of Advent the same way I remember the soft, warm light in the delivery room. It's dim, but it's enough to see by. It's not stark, or scary, or threatening. It isn't the blinding light of Easter morning at the tomb... it's the same gentle color as candleglow and rosy sunsets. It's winter firelight, and the welcoming light of home through the window. When a baby is coming, there's lots to do, but it's the kind of work most people seem to enjoy. Dreaming, planning, preparing, hoping. Giving, sharing, opening, making room for someone. You weed out things you don't need cluttering up your space anymore... things you don't use, things that wouldn't be safe or appropriate for a baby, things that are reminders of your life BEFORE you were preparing for a baby. You give it away, recycle it, throw it out. You start to take stock of what you have, and what you'll need, and what you don't want to carry around anymore. And it's a good thing.... because the funny thing about a baby... it's such a tiny package, but as most modern-day parents will tell you, it comes with so much STUFF! Pretty soon, if you let it (or sometimes, in spite of yourself) there's baby-stuff everywhere. And a very little person who isn't ready to take care of themselves not only comes with lots of STUFF... it comes with a whole new set of priorities and responsibilities that you couldn't have imagined in your wildest dreams. They say "a baby changes everything." They are not kidding. Fully grown, 'responsible' adults will allow their entire lives to be reordered by a baby.

Our Awesome God must have known something in offering the world that tiny baby so long ago... what in the world but a baby could embody hope so tidily, awaken our desire to nurture and protect so readily, and cause us to embrace a life-altering course so willingly? Nothing I can think of. A baby is the physical manifestation of every biological and spiritual urge to leave something of ourselves in the world. A baby, even a very important baby, needs to be held, nourished, nurtured and loved or it will not survive, or grow. A baby makes normally rational, orderly, organized people do very irrational, disorganized things. The God who created us and nurtured us; then came to us in the most humble and helpless form we could understand, had hope and faith in us, that we would take that baby into our lives. Every year at Advent, we prepare again to accept that gift. We make a place. In a world of fast-paced and furious events, we can take advantage of that pregnant pause. I believe that if we let it, (or maybe in spite of ourselves) that tiny baby could enter the place we've made, and maybe overtake our priorities and fill our lives with amazing, beautiful baby stuff. Yes, a baby changes everything.

Jesus is a friend of mine