Aimless Aching

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I can’t even sort out what I’m feeling or thinking right now. I don’t even know if I can sort the feeling from the thinking.

Mostly I ache. And the ache cuts through my gut. I want to vomit to get that ache out of me, but I can’t.

I want to cry again and again. Except when the tears roll, I feel the ache roll, wet, down my cheeks. I want the tears to wash the ache away, but after the tears are gone the ache lingers in my face, hot from crying.

I try to use my words to talk out the ache, but they jumble and ramble and go in circles. And I want to get my thoughts around the ache, but the ache mocks my thinking–even my best thinking.

And I can’t tell anymore if I’m choking back the ache or if the ache is choking me.

I don’t even know why I ache so hard. Mostly I’m selfish with my aching–making the pain of the world about me–about the pain that I don’t understand well enough, listen to enough, or address squarely enough.

What right have I to ache when there is pain far worse than mine? So I chastise myself for my selfishness–heaping shame upon the ache which only makes it grow.

The worst ache is when I see people create more aching with hate. I try hard not to trade hate for hate. But the hate is too much for me to process. All I know to do in the midst of the hate is to ache. I ache with the hated and I ache for the hater. I ache for the brokenness and the ache upon hate upon ache upon hate.

I want to do something–to turn the ache into action. The ache is fuel, burning up, but with no engine it is wasted. It is an endlessly renewable source of energy–because there’s always something to ache about–but the energy is wasted without a place to go.

But where am I to go? What am I to do with this hot-burning fuel?

I think words will help. Words should help. I know words. I want to help with my words. I want to use my words to do good. But all I can do today is explain the ache. But what good are even the best words about the ache when so much pain is in the world?

I want to think this aimless aching is just a phase. I hope–I pray–for a time to know better my purpose, my place, my way to use this ache–to aim this passionate-hot ache to sow love so deeply that hate will fade, fail, and fall away.

What Are We Waiting For?

The culture thinks it’s time to celebrate Christmas, but the church tells us to wait and keep watch during these weeks leading up to Christmas day, a time historically known as Advent. But what are we waiting for when we already know the Jesus story?!

This message, based on Mark 13:24-37 was recorded on the first Sunday of Advent, November 30, 2014, at Emmanuel Lutheran Church in Greenvine, TX.

Click the following link to listen to the message, or scroll down to read the manuscript:

http://www.spreaker.com/user/5989422/what-are-we-waiting-for

 

What Are We Waiting For?

“I know some good games we could play,”

Said the cat.

“I know some new tricks,”

Said the Cat in the Hat.

“A lot of good tricks.

I will show them to you.

Your mother will not mind at all if I do.”

Dr. Suess is one of my all-time favorite writers. Depending on your perspective, Suess’s iconic “Cat in the Hat” is either great fun or a horrible influence. In the books about him, this Cat comes around when the kids are home alone—this might be a clue that he’s trouble. But then he plays these wild games and makes a huge mess.

Somehow his assurance, “Your mother will not mind at all if I do,” fails to convince them. The pet fish speaks up,

“No! No! Make that cat go away!

Tell that Cat in the Hat you do NOT want to play.

He should not be here.

He should not be about.

He should not be here when your mother is out!”

The kids try to choose between the Cat saying, “Your mother will not mind at all,” and the fish saying, “He should not be here when your mother is out!” And it’s kind of like the dilemma we are faced with this time of year.

On the one hand, our culture from Thanksgiving forward is pushing Christmas on us—the holidays have begun! It’s as if our culture is saying to us, “Come and celebrate! Your Savior will not mind at all if you do!”

But the church is a bit like the fish, saying, “No! No! You should not celebrate when Advent is about!” The church is urging us to slow down, to wait, to keep watch, to prepare for Jesus’ coming.

Maybe our culture is a little bit right, our Savior may not mind terribly…but maybe the church is onto something in asking us to wait…

Still…waiting is hard.

And it takes vigilance.

In our Bible reading from Mark, chapter 13, Jesus compares this vigilance to a doorkeeper’s watch—waiting for his master’s return from a journey. “Therefore, keep awake,” Jesus says in verse 35, “for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly.”

There was then another time Jesus said to “keep awake.” In the garden before his death on the cross, he invites the disciples to “keep awake” while he prays. He then returns to find them fast asleep. They couldn’t even keep awake a single hour!

Waiting is hard indeed.

But also…it kinda doesn’t make much sense to “wait” when we already know how the story goes! We know there’s a Messiah born and he lived and preached and helped people and then he died on the cross for our sakes and then he rose victorious over death.

We know the story. And so, we might rightfully ask what it is that we’re waiting for anyway?

Well, for one thing good stories deserve retelling. And our Savior will not mind at all if we keep telling it. In fact, that is part of what we are called to do—to proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ to all the world—to keep telling the story.

And the best stories are the stories in which we want to take part. Our Savior will not mind at all if we do! Indeed, it is precisely when our stories are touched by Jesus’ story that we can be salt and light for the world.

So, the invitation of the church year, which begins today, is to hear the Jesus story once again, bit by bit, week by week. And there are some slow parts—like now with the waiting. And there are some high points with all “glory to God in the highest!” And there are some sad parts with dissension, denial, and death. And there is the victorious part of Jesus triumphing over death.

Again though, it seems like it’s all wrapped up neat and tidy, so what are we waiting for now?

Well, the thing is, the story isn’t over. And the story isn’t over because we’re still here! And even though Jesus has already conquered death, his reign on the earth is not fully established. There are still wars and rumors of wars. There is still brokenness in the lives of God’s created people. And there are still people who need to hear the Good News of God’s love in Christ Jesus.

So, this Advent, we begin again retelling and rehearing the Jesus story—which begins with waiting for that baby to be born! And we remain vigilant, spreading God’s way of love in all we do and say. That which we are waiting for is the full drama of the greatest story ever told—and our Savior will not mind at all if we get caught up in it all over again.

A Surprising Find on Thanksgiving

A few weeks ago I made the disappointing discovery that I had lost my Deaconess pin (again). And I shared that story here on the blog.

I wrote about how I was getting down on myself about losing something so important, but then it occurred to me that I lost it because I was wearing it a lot. And I was wearing it a lot as I cared for my mother-in-law, Elaine, in the time leading up to her death. And I was wearing it a lot as I worked in Elaine’s kitchen, cooking for the family in the days surrounding Elaine’s death.

So I came to terms with having lost it because those were good, important times to be involved in serving and such.

And I really had let go of the need to berate myself for losing my pin.

But the fact still remained that I did not have my Deaconess pin. And that was still an issue for me, because it still is an important signifier of my ministry.

And then I started this new job as the interim minister of a church near where I live. And I really felt odd not having my Deaconess pin on at this new gig. This is the first ongoing job I’ve had in a very long time, and I preach there every Sunday and they call me Deaconess there and everything. So, to not have my pin on was just not right.

I had almost made up my mind that I was going to call up the Lutheran Deaconess Association (LDA) and order a new pin–if you’re counting, that would have been my fourth pin. But I still held out hope that I might find my pin somewhere. I kept checking and rechecking any place I might have left it.

Even Wednesday night as I was packing my tote bags to come for Thanksgiving at my father-in-law’s house in Houston, I rechecked the side pockets of the bags. But the pin still wasn’t in those same crazy pockets I had checked a bazillion times before.

And when I got to the guest room where we sleep at my father-in-law’s house, I looked once more on and around the desk and bed just in case I had missed the pin there before. But it still was not there.

It wasn’t anywhere obvious. I didn’t give it a whole really lot of thought. And it was late, and I was tired, so I put it out of my mind and went to bed.

By Thanksgiving morning, I had entirely forgotten about the pin. There was work to be done because I was the chief cook for Thanksgiving dinner for 24 people. And that alone is enough to think about. But this was at my in-law’s place…in Elaine’s kitchen…without Elaine.

And I tried not to think too much about this being the first Thanksgiving without Elaine. Because there was work to be done.

So I was just focusing on what needed to be done. Turkey was roasting and other prep was underway. I was in the zone.

I had chopped up all the celery and onions for the dressing, and I needed to get a pan to sauté them in. I knew exactly which one I wanted–the giant, enameled, cast-iron skillet. Of all of the utensils in Elaine’s kitchen, this one is by far my favorite.

It’s a heavy pan, and it’s a bit hard to get to as it is nested under a stack of other heavy pans, each layer carefully separated by protective layers of paper toweling. I could explain to you the intricacies of how everything is stored in Elaine’s kitchen, but the main thing you need to know is that it is really a pain to get this pan out of there. But it is my precious as pans go, so I am always willing to do the acrobatics needed to get it out.

And as I made the final contortions to pull the prized pan out of its place and prepared to remove the paper towels from inside it…there, on top of the paper towels, inside my favorite pan was my Deaconess pin.

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There’s my Deaconess pin–right where I left it apparently–inside my favorite pan in Elaine’s kitchen!

 

It made total sense that it was there. Because that is my favorite pan. And I was the last one to have used it. And I was the one who put it away–partly because I was the one who got it out, but mostly because it’s even harder to put away than it is to get out. It must’ve fallen off while I was putting the pan away, landing so softly on those paper towels that I didn’t even realize it had fallen there.

Finding it then–on the first Thanksgiving without Elaine, and there–inside my favorite pan in Elaine’s kitchen, finding it like that was the perfect encouragement. And I wept. And then I put my pin on and cooked.

It’s not like the pin gives me super powers, but symbols do have meaning. And that pin helps me remember who I am, whose I am, and what I’m about. I know those things even without the pin, but sometimes when life and ministry and kitchens get overwhelming, I forget to remember.

But there is so much work to be done in life and ministry and kitchens that I want to be sure to remember my identity as a servant, my belonging to a gracious God, and my purpose to share love and hope and joy in all I do and say.

Now, I don’t have to call the LDA and order a fourth pin after all! And I can wear it the very next time I preach! And each time I look at it, I will always think of Elaine. And I will have this story to tell about the surprise of finding my Deaconess pin inside that favored pan on Thanksgiving 2014.

Thanksgiving Message

As we take time as a nation to give thanks, it helps to remember the source of all that we are and all that we have. This Thanksgiving Eve sermon explores this idea based on Deuteronomy 8:7-18, and Luke 17:11-19.

Recorded on Wednesday, November 26, 2014 at Emmanuel Lutheran Church in Greenvine, TX.

 

Click the link to listen to the message or scroll down for the full manuscript:

http://www.spreaker.com/user/5989422/dirt-wilderness-and-the-unclean

 

Dirt, Wilderness, and the Unclean

A group of scientists were excited they finally had the ultimate breakthrough. They decided to tell God they didn’t need him any more.

“Oh really?” God asked them. “Are you sure you don’t need me for anything anymore?”

“We’re certain, God. We can do anything you can do. We can even make human life.”

“Okay,” God agreed. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll show you once how I do it and I’ll even let you take notes before you give it a try.”

And so God reached down and got a handful of dirt and right before their eyes he created a person.

“So you really think you can do that?”

“Just watch us, God!”

And so one of the scientists squatted down to pick up some dirt. As he handed it to another one of the scientists, God looked over his shoulder.

And God snatched the dirt from them and said, “Get your own dirt!”

 

It is often easy to take for granted what we have and what we can do when things are going well for us. We often continue to strive for yet more. And we frequently buy into the belief that we did it ourselves. Like those scientists, we may even fall into the trap of believing that we don’t even need God anymore.

But God is the one who provides. Even the dirt that we turn for crops or dig out to build our houses—even that is the Lord’s doing.

In our passage from Deuteronomy, the Israelites are being given land where they can live and thrive. But they are warned not to forget that it was God who brought them out of slavery, it was God who provided for them in the wilderness, and God himself gave them the ability to make a new life for themselves. They are reminded that when they have their new life in the land of plenty, “Do not say to yourself, ‘My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this wealth.’”

God is faithful to love and care for us, to provide for us. When we’re at the top of our pay scales, it is still God who gave us the ability to work in those jobs. In the times of “plenty,” it can indeed humble us to remember the times that weren’t so great. For even in the difficult times, the wilderness times of our lives, we know that God has brought us through.

In the passage with Jesus healing the 10 lepers, one of them returns to thank Jesus. Now, we can’t know whether the 9 others are failing at gratitude. Could it be that this one—a foreigner even—recognizes something deeper about Jesus? Jesus tells him, “your faith has made you well.” Could it be that his faith in Jesus goes deeper than just being thankful for being made clean?

Not only did Jesus heal him, but Jesus was willing to come near him even though he was unclean! And Jesus was willing to heal him even though he was a foreigner—a despised Samaritan! This Jesus who came alongside him despite his current situation, was in fact, God in-the-flesh.

From one person to the next, none of our circumstances are exactly alike. Some of us may be experiencing times of plenty while others are in times of need. Some may be confident of their direction in life while others of us are wandering in some kind of wilderness. Some of us may feel well and whole while others are struggling with unspeakable ailments that keep us down.

Whether it’s the time of our lives or the worst time imaginable, God is with us. God is active and present with us every day—no matter our circumstances. God made the dirt, he is present with us in our wilderness times, and he comes alongside us at our weakest and most vulnerable points. And when we become touched by the depth of his love, when we feel his presence with us despite our circumstances, it is then that gratitude is possible.

And so, in this time when our nation makes a point to give thanks, it is my fervent prayer for you that you may see all of life as a gift from God. And may you recognize him as your source, your strength, and an abiding presence with you no matter what.

Want to Simplify this Christmas?

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The pressure is on to find the right gifts for everyone on your list, to prepare the perfect holiday meal, and to make it to every party. With all the obligations of the season though, can anyone remember what Christmas is all about? Something about a baby—Oh no! I forgot to put the Smith family’s new baby on my shopping list!

Oftentimes we lament the consumerism of the season, but we can’t quite seem to back our sleigh ride away from that slippery slope. Over the years I’ve dabbled with various ideas of simplifying my celebrations to focus on what is most important to me: faith, family, and friends.

In my latest post at Life & Liberty Online Magazine, I wrote a sampling of ideas to help you be more deliberate about how you spend your time and money this holiday season. You can read the full text of the article over there, but here is the basic list broken down by three categories, gift-giving, cooking, and celebrations…

 

Put Joy (Back) Into Gift-Giving

  1. Shorten the gift-giving list.
  2. Make gifts using a craft or skill that is truly enjoyable.
  3. Create gift baskets.
  4. Make a music mix.
  5. Give a copy of a favorite book.
  6. Give gift cards/certificates.
  7. Give a membership.
  8. Write an original story or poetry collection and give it as a gift.
  9. Give yourself permission to give the same gift to more than one person on your list.
  10. Give family gifts.

For more on any of these gift-giving ideas, read my full commentary on my post, “Tis the Season to Simplify,” at Life & Liberty.

 

Cook Up some Holiday Spirit

  1. Consider potluck.
  2. Say “yes” when someone offers to bring something.
  3. Choose simpler preparations for at least some of your dishes.
  4. Stick with what you know.

For more on any of these cooking ideas, read my full commentary on my post, “Tis the Season to Simplify,” at Life & Liberty.

 

Keep the Merry in Your Merry-Making

  1. Rethink “White Elephant” parties.
  2. Make kits to give away to charities.
  3. Enjoy the arts together.
  4. See the lights!
  5. Serve together.
  6. Make a special treat or meal together.
  7. Reschedule your celebration for a less-rushed time.

For more on any of these celebration ideas, read my full commentary on my post, “Tis the Season to Simplify,” at Life & Liberty.

 

Pick and choose from this list, take or leave what works for you and helps you have the most joy this holiday season.