New Year's Resolutions

I'll continue my tradition.

My resolutions for 2010 are:

+ Write thank-you notes (haven't I had that as a resolution before...hmm...a growing edge?)
+ Rescue a child from an orphanage (if indeed that's God's plan for our family), OR
+ Get involved in orphan ministry in Ukraine
+ Grasp a vision...God's vision...and take a step (or two) to help make it a reality
+ Clean my desk
+ Get rid of some junk (in my soul and in the house and office)
+ Hug my child every day, whether he likes it or not
+ Every week, call a friend far away
+ Read a book each month, even if it's an "easy read"
+ UPDATE MY BLOG!

And, if you're reading this, how about help remind me about these?! Thanks!

Time, Time, Tickin'...

So, about six weeks or so ago I came home from work to a most amazing scene. My husband practically met me at the door to say: "Your son has something he wants to show you."

"Mommy, come here!" his voice rang out from the hallway. So I went through the den and peeked around the corner to see this:

Look carefully. He's so proud. And can you guess what he had been doing? I knew immediately, because I had been watching him copy the times off of the digital clock under the television for days. My husband reported that for a full fifteen minutes, our son would copy the time onto a piece of paper and then put it in the marching line in the hallway, only to begin again as soon as the minute changed. He did both sides of the paper, so when you flipped a sheet over, you saw 1158 and 1204, for example.

He left out the colons, but he still marked every minute of time for fifteen minutes of his life and left the evidence of his focus all down our hall.

It got me thinking about just how quickly those minutes change and turn to hours, and how those hours turn to days, and those days to weeks, and those weeks to months, and the months to years. And how do we mark that time? How do we honor the truth of each minute? And do we recognize God's presence in each time?

I realize that I haven't been the best blogger here recently. The past few months have brought lots of twists and turns, and I've been preoccupied. Time has marched on, and I've just tried to hang on for the ride, giving honor to each death and to the grief it brings, while celebrating moments of joy and peace in a spirit of thanksgiving to God.

I've also been faced with many questions and struggles over the past year, as I'm sure most of us have. These struggles have been personal as well as vocational, dealing with family and church life. As a family and as a church family, we've tried together to discern the best paths ahead, the ones into which Christ would lead.

But today is New Year's Eve, and I look forward to the calendar's turn-over. I look forward to a new year. I hope it is full of hope, health, love, celebration, and joy. Perhaps it will involve adding a new "little one" to our family through international adoption...we're working on that. Perhaps it will lead to peace with our family just the way it is. Perhaps...

What is sure is this: God already knows what 2010 will hold, and will hold us through it. Thanks be to the Lord for that!

Trade as One - Just One

Something to think about if you haven't finished your Christmas shopping. Also check out options at www.umcor.org.

JEd's first recording- "Jesus Loves Me"

Enjoy!
No matter how you sing it, the message is always true!

Challenging the Waves

My son has begun a new phase of his life: the water-loving phase.

We were worried about this for a long while, because while he would play in VERY shallow water, he would have a screaming fit if we tried to get him to float, swim, or do anything that involved water above his waist.

But this is a new day.

He has taken swimming lessons, and he has developed confidence.
My husband was eager to see how this translated from a pool to an OCEAN.
So they went yesterday to the beach, only 1.5 hours away.

And the most amazing, hilarious, and inspiring thing happened:

Our son was loving playing in the water, the waves, even slightly above his waist. My husband could hear him saying something, seemingly to the waves, over and over, but he couldn't make out the words. He just let the boy play.

AND THEN THE BIG WAVE CAME. IT KNOCKED "JED" DOWN, UNDER THE WATER.
Suddenly, my child was completely enveloped in the wave, pulled totally under water. My husband was certain that he would react the way he always had: coming back up, crying, wanting to pack up and go home.

BUT THIS TIME WAS DIFFERENT.
As "Jed" came up, my husband watched him turn again to the waves. He pointed both of his fingers at them and said,
"Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' about!"

My husband was so proud; he has turned a corner.

We later found out, as they were telling me the story, that what our son had been saying to the waves as they hit him, before the "big one" came, was
"C'mon now, waves, you gotta do better than that if you wanna knock 'Jed' down!"
[he actually said his full name in that sentence :-)]

I've been thinking about this ever since. My son was challenging the waves.
The things that had always come and knocked him down, making him fear the power of the ocean, throwing him off-balance...he was challenging them! He was ready for whatever knock they would bring, and he knew he could get up. He was confident.

I wonder...do we have the confidence to "challenge the waves?"

Those things that have been able to knock us down in the past, that have caused us fear, can we look at them and know that they really have no power over us? Can we be like the "virtuous woman" of Proverbs 31, who, because of her trust in God and her wisdom in living, could "laugh at the time to come?"

I'm so glad my son learned that, no matter what waves came at him, or how big or strong they turned out to be, he could have confidence that he could and would get back up. The courage he has gained has come through learning, trusting. I pray that, in faith, we too can learn and trust that the God within us is stronger than any waves, so we can confidently say:

C'mon now, waves, you gotta do better than that to knock [insert your name here] down!

Mommy's Kisses vs. Daddy's

We've had a big weekend.

Yesterday we went to one of our beautiful state parks: on Lake Marion in Santee. The boys had been there several times before; I hadn't. So they took me in our canoe along the shoreline from the boat ramp, to the isolated place they had named "Little Frog Beach," owing to the fact that there had been scores of little tiny frogs there the last time they'd been there. I re-named it "Stinky Beach," because while I saw no tiny frogs, I did see quite a few fish skeletons, and I did smell quite a fish smell.

However, I also got to watch my son splash in the water and quite enjoy himself, so it was worth it.

You can imagine that after such a day in the sun, no one was interested in cooking that evening after we got home. We decided to go get a pizza instead. So while we were at the restaurant, "Jed" bumped his elbow on the table. It hurt. He started to whimper.

"Let mommy kiss it," I offered.

So he showed me the spot, and I kissed it. At least I thought I did. He said

"No, mommy. Right here."
And he pointed to a new spot.

At that, he frowned. It was obvious he was still hurting.

"I guess mommy's kisses just don't really work anymore," I said to him, sadly. I was secretly lamenting the fact that my son is growing up as he opened his mouth again.

"Well, sometimes they don't," he said.

At that, my husband said, "Let Daddy try."

So "Jed" offered his elbow. My husband kissed it.

"Jed" thought for a second, looking at his elbow.

"OK," he said, with a lift in his voice, "Daddy's kisses kinda make it worse!"

CHALK ONE UP FOR MOMMY.

A "Jedism" Kind of Weekend

I really need to be catching up on work, but since Jim shared with me this past week (at our Board of Camps and Retreats Ministries meeting at Asbury Hills UM Camp, about which I will blog soon) that he liked my sharing of my little boy's humor, I thought I'd relay a new "Jedism" from Thursday night.

When I got home from that overnight meeting, "Jed" and I had some quality time together, the latter part of which involved cleaning his mess from the den. You need to know that his best little stuffed friend is named "Lambie." Lambie is, of course, a lamb. Well, Lambie was on the floor, as were many other things. "Jed" couldn't get them all, so I offered to help him.

"Would you like for me to carry Lambie?" I asked helpfully.

"Yes," he said, absently.

We took a few steps into the hallway, at which point he actually noticed for the first time that I had picked up Lambie. He put out his little arms as if to stop me from moving.

"Oh, Mommy, Mommy," he said, "I meant 'no.' No, you can't carry Lambie."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Well, because you have to be special to carry him."

"Am I not special?" I asked, trying to hold down my smile.

"Um, well, you are special," he replied, "just not really quite special ENOUGH."

Gotta love the possessiveness of a four-year-old for his best friend!

Six years ago today...

I married this man.

We were standing in the small Memorial Chapel within the massive and gothic Duke University Chapel. I promised, with newer vows from our United Methodist Book of Worship to "encourage the gifts of God in you," or something like that :-)

Today, I still love to hear him play the piano, the organ, the trumpet, the fluglehorn. I love to watch him play with our son. I am thankful to have a husband who supports my minstry and who understands its demands, even when those demands interfere with our family plans. I even love that he wants to spend our anniversary evening walking in the Relay for Life. So that's what we'll do tonight, even as I give thanks for the gift that my husband is.

Happy anniversary, honey!

Death...and LIFE

We've just walked through the journey of Holy Week, moved from death to life. The journey was pretty amazing here... Above is a picture of what Good Friday evening looked like.

Our church shared the Holy Week journey (Maundy Thursday and Good Friday worship) with three other churches: another UMC, a Baptist (Cooperative Fellowship) congregation, and a PCUSA church. The four ministers led the services, and a combined 80-voice choir sang at each one. These two were the last of a series of four services, which also included Ash Wednesday.

We also shared the Lenten journey with four other UMC's, joining together with them each Sunday evening of the first 5 weeks of Lent. This brought together United Methodists of all backgrounds and several ethnic groups.

These services that have brought together followers of Jesus from many different groups were a tremendous source of joy, hope, and life for me throughout the wilderness journey of the 40 days of Lenten fasting....but now

Easter has come!!

This 50 days is about LIFE...NEW LIFE!

To the end that we might experience the power of Jesus' resurrection as a church family, I am looking forward to two things:

1. Dr. Kennon Callahan, author of Twelve Keys to an Effective Church WILL BE COMING TO HELP OUR CHURCH DISCERN GOD'S VISION FOR OUR FUTURE. He will be here on Saturday, May 16, and I hope that our church family will be as excited as I am that we are going to be able to glean from his wisdom and experience as we seek God's guidance for the church's LIFE in the future.

2. WE ARE GOING TO START A NEW WORSHIP EXPERIENCE! Look for details in a post to come very soon. The date to begin this source of new life is June 9 (and yes, that's a Tuesday).

In summary, I want to thank the Church Council of my congregation for their "leap of faith" in the two areas mentioned above. And I'd like to invite all of you readers to be in prayer for our church family as we undertake this new ventures. Please pray with me that they will indeed be signs, symbols, and means of God's power of resurrection here in this place!

I found this quite...overwhelming. And what does it all mean for church?

Did You Know? from Amybeth on Vimeo.

Transfiguration Sunday Sermon

This is for you, Meredith!
Here's how we got to Lent in our church...

God Shines Forth:
Mark 9:2-13: Transfiguration Sunday, Yr. B
Kristen R. Richardson-Frick
St. Paul’s UMC
February 22, 2009

If Transfiguration Sunday is about anything at all, it just might be about teaching Jesus’ disciples that we have a lot to learn. I’ll tell you the story, and you’ll see what I mean.

Jesus’ first disciples, the ones who got to walk with him, watch him heal, and hear the tone of his voice as he cast out demons and taught his followers, they loved God’s holiness and glory. They did everything right by God’s law. And they knew the Scriptures. They could sing all the Psalms and quote you the Ten Commandments. And they knew what to expect when God down to save them from their enemies. The Psalmist whose song was our greeting this morning says it: “Our God comes and does not keep silence, before him is a devouring fire, and a mighty tempest all around him. He calls to the heavens above and to the earth, that he may judge his people.” When God’s messiah came to deliver the people, that’s how he would come, the disciples knew. He would come in power and great glory, with a devouring fire and a mighty tempest to judge the people and root out all enemies from the land. Yes, the disciples knew what to expect from the Son of God.

They were very confused, then, when, right after Peter shouted “You are the Messiah!” to Jesus, Jesus told him to shut up about it and started talking all over the place to everyone about how “the Son of Man” was to be rejected, and beaten, and shamed, and humiliated, and ultimately strung up naked for the world to mock at while he died a horrible and gruesome death. They had thought he was the one coming with power, glory, fire, and wind to set the world straight! They had thought he was the one coming with weapons to destroy the enemies of God! All this talk about suffering and death and silence couldn’t be right! And now the disciples are confused, even angry at Jesus’ words. I can understand. God knows they at least need some verification, some proof from God that what they think about Jesus is true. They need some little glimpse of his glory to hold on to.

And so six days later, Jesus takes them up the mountain, the realm of God’s glory. God’s promise was revealed to Noah on a mountain as the ark perched atop and a rainbow filled the sky. God’s Law was thundered to Moses on a mountain from the stormy brightness of the cloud of God’s glory. God’s Word was spoken to Elijah on a mountain in a still small voice. Oh, yes, going up on a mountain was always inviting yourself into God’s holy presence, and Peter and James and John all knew it. Phew! Amid all this talk of suffering and silence, finally we get to experience a little glory!

But we should all always be aware that when you get what you pray for, it may scare you half to death, and it almost certainly won’t happen the way you expect, or even maybe want.

So they go up to the mountain, and they do get to see God’s glory all right, and they get to hear God’s voice. And they get to see Moses and Elijah, and they get to see Jesus transformed into his glory right there on the spot. And it was terrifying. But it was unbelievably glorious and awe-inspiring. Can you imagine? What would you do? Have you ever had an experience quite like it, a mountaintop experience, where everything is glorious and you can literally see and feel the holy God with you? Remember when you felt like you were on a high mountain and that your prayers for confirmation of Jesus’ real-ness were answered? Remember? I pray that we all have those mountaintop moments in our lives from time to time, for they are amazing, aren’t they? A moment like that is an answer to prayer, a confirmation of our faith, something to hold onto when the going gets tough.

Most of us who have these kind of experiences want to stay there forever. We see Jesus, feel his glory, know God’s presence, and it’s awe-inspiring. Though it’s scary, it’s the most wonderful kind of scary we’ve ever known, and we’re in the presence of the Lord, for God’s sake, and who wants to leave that? So we sing, and we shout for joy, and we hug and cry. And we feel like real Christians, maybe for the first time ever. And we want to stay right there in that worshipful place forever. And so we, like Peter, ask if we can. We think we’re doing the right thing, making a real and true home for Jesus right where we are. If we want to stay on the mountain forever, surely God does too, right? We blurt out “it’s good for us to be here! We can make dwellings right here!”

And then a cloud descends over us, the glory of God, that like the light and brightness of God hides our eyes from seeing what is too great for us to see, and we hear the Father’s voice thunder from heaven: “Look at Jesus, your Lord, my Son, the Beloved One! Listen to him!” And suddenly the glory is gone and Jesus looks normal again and Moses and Elijah have disappeared, and everything is back to the way it was.

And before we can say “boo,” Jesus is saying: “OK, time to go down the mountain now. Now don’t tell a soul about this! I mean it. No one can know until after I’ve risen from the dead.” And you mutter with your friends “from the dead? He’s holy; he can’t die! We just saw him in glory! What’s going on here?” And you try to figure it out. And so you start to ask Jesus questions about what’s going on here. You ask about the one who was supposed to prepare for the Messiah’s coming, Elijah. And Jesus says: “Yeah, Elijah came, and they did horrible things to him, just like the Scripture says.” Jesus sure seems to be on this suffering kick, but you just saw him in glory, and it’s all so confusing! And you just want to go back to that great place on the mountain top, but you can’t.

See, we think that the mountain is the place to be with God. We think that’s where the true worship is. We think that’s where Christ’s glory is revealed to us most plainly. We think that’s where God’s best work is done. We’re a people who “reach for the stars” and believe “bigger is better.” We believe in great success and wealth as a blessing. We think the high and mighty of this world are also the holy and powerful. At the top is where the glory is, right, or why all this “American Idol” and “Forbes” magazine and “Most likely to succeed” in our yearbooks? Why all this grades-comparing and church attendance comparing and house-square-footage comparing? Yes, we think higher is holier, bigger is better.

And what’s more, we think that worshiping Jesus and building dwellings for him in our holy mountain places and going with him there or staying with him there is what being a Christian is all about. We think we’re most holy when we’re most successful for Jesus, when we can bring lots of people up to the mountain with us and invite them to stay there. But the Transfiguration tells us we’re wrong about all that, and so much more. The Transfiguration tells us that we have a lot to learn about how God works, and what Jesus wants, and where God’s glory really shines forth most powerfully.

The Eternal Father’s voice thunders: “This is my Son, the Beloved One. Listen!!” And Jesus says: “The Son of man must suffer to be glorified. We must go down from the mountain to really do God’s work, to be true as God’s people.” And down the mountain we go, right into the scene of a demon-possessed boy and sheer human helplessness and need…right on the journey to Jerusalem that leads to conflict, and suffering, and beating, and torture, and mocking, and death.

I don’t know why we think being a Christian is about going to the mountain to worship in God’s glory and bringing others up with us to stay there. I don’t know why we forget that, if we’re going to follow Jesus, we have to get down off the mountain and get right into the places where people are helpless and need a hand, where people are hungry and need to be filled, where people are hurting and need to be healed. I don’t know why we think we can stay and worship God through our stained-glass windows and with a dreamy detachment from the world without meeting Jesus in homes and neighborhoods where all the windows and dreams are broken. I don’t know why we’ve forgotten that Jesus revealed his glory and power when he gave up glory and became powerless. I don’t know why we’ve forgotten. But we have, I think.

And so Jesus, after shining in our faces, pushes us down the mountain, because he wants to transform us into what he is, on the mountain and in the streets and on the cross, shining his holy light, so God can continue to shine forth, this time through us.

Shane Claiborne is a twenty-something who saw Jesus’ glory, heard the Father’s thunderous voice, and followed Christ down the mountain so Jesus shine forth God’s holy light into his heart and could transform him, too, into a shining light of holiness. He’s written a book about his life “as an ordinary radical,” as a fool for and lover of Jesus who lives most of the time in community in one of the “worst” neighborhoods in Philadelphia but has also spent time in a leper colony in Calcutta, India. While in Calcutta, he learned a new word: namaste, meaning something like “I honor the Holy One who lives in you.”

One day, Shane was asked to do a doctor’s job in the leper colony, to treat and dress a wound. He’d been watching the doctor do it all day, just assisting. But now he was asked to do it alone. “I had been watching,” Shane writes, “and I did know what to do, but I wasn’t sure I dared. I came forward and sat in the doctor’s seat and began staring in the patient’s eyes, and the decision had already been made. I began carefully dressing the man’s wound. He stared at me with such intensity that it felt like he was looking into my soul. Every once in a while he would slowly close his eyes. When I was finished, he said to me that sacred word I had come to love: ‘Namaste.’ I smiled with tears in my eyes and whispered, ‘Jesus.’ He saw Jesus in me. And I saw Jesus in him. I remember thinking back to the stained-glass window my United Methodist church had bought for over $100,000. I saw a clearer glimpse of Jesus in this leper’s eyes than any stained-glass window could ever give.” (all Shane Claiborne references taken from The Irresistable Revolution, (Zondervan: 2006), 80).

We don’t have to go to Calcutta to follow Jesus down the mountain, to see Jesus in a leper’s eyes. But, as Mother Teresa used to advise, we do have to “find our Calcutta,” whether it’s in our own home with a spouse or parent, or down the street with a neighbor, or in a part of this city you’ve always been scared to go in, or working at CCMO or on a Habitat house, or as part of a Mission team to another state or even country. The disciples thought worshiping Jesus was about staying on the mountain with him in the glorious place, singing praise songs and being shielded there from the pain of the world down below. And the Transfiguration said they were wrong, said we have a lot to learn if we think that way.

For it isn’t until we get down from the mountain and encounter the helplessness of other human beings, until we touch them and offer healing, that we really begin to see Jesus. It isn’t until we suffer with Christ that we can be glorified with him. It isn’t until we get down from the mountain and into the hurting places of the world that we begin to know who our Lord really is, and to truly see and worship his glory. It isn’t until we get down from the mountain and begin to carry the cross with Jesus that we can really be transformed into his presence for the world. And that is what being a Christian is all about. Not the mountain, but the cross. Are we ready to go down into the valley, into the real world? And are we ready to find, if we do, that the cross ends up on a mountain, too, where God shines forth like nowhere else? I pray the answer is “yes.” So may it be. Amen.

Unusual Prophets

On this Ash Wednesday, as we begin the season of Lent and face our sin, brokenness, and mortality...as we walk through the wilderness and to the cross with Jesus, here's a little inspiration for the journey.

God just might use even a dog and an elephant to show us what pure love is like, what we're called to be and do...

Check this out.

Where Babies Come From...

So, the other day my husband and son came home from their day away and my husband says to my son, "Tell Mommy what you told me about where babies come from."

A little surprised, I asked my son, "You know where babies come from?"

To which my son replied:

Yes, ma'am. I know how babies get in mommies' tummies.

Mommies walk along,

and when they see a seed on the ground,

they eat it.

Then the seed grows in the mommy's tummy

until it turns into the baby.

And then after the baby is born,

it turns 1 (showing a 1 with his finger),

and then it turns 2 (second finger up now)

and then it turns...Well, you get the picture.

Now I must admit, I was impressed with his thoughts. But I asked, "Where did you hear that?"

To which he replied in his cute and self-deprecating tone,

I just made it up.

Ah, the innocence! Children lose it all too soon. I pray that he can keep his for a long, long time. Perhaps the church has a role to play here, what do you think?

While I Was Out...

Well, we've had a lot going on while I've been away from the Blogosphere.

First there was Advent and 2 Christmas pageants.

At one of "Jed's" churches, he was a "little drummer boy" because he had told the Children's Choir Director, "I don't want to be a cow, a sheep, or a shepherd. I just want to be a little boy." So she obliged.

At his "other church", "Jed" did agree to be a shepherd, because a little buddy of his was going to be one, too.

That, of course, was just the beginning of the Christmas celebrations. There was the fun of Christmas Day and Santa's visit. Santa brought "Jed" what he'd been asking for for months, a CHAINSAW! And, as you can see, "Jed" promptly tried to saw the limbs off of the Christmas tree.

Well, after the joy of Christmas came the celebration of the New Year, "Jed's" 4th birthday at a Dinosaur party (he was really happy about it, as you can see).

Then came the Inauguration, and me trying to explain to "Jed" just how important this day and the stuff he was seeing on TV really was.

Now here we are ALREADY in February (the second week, no less), and I'm trying to get back to whatever "normal" is. I hope that means blogging. Don't give up on me yet!

Happy New Year!!

And by the way, if you checked those New Year's Resolutions from last year and wondered how I did on those, I'll tell you: NOT TOO WELL. So you haven't seen any for this year!