Psalms Of Ascents—120

WEEK 1: PSALM 120

REPENTANCE

https://youtu.be/JYfzcYohWZg

Repentance means to “turn to or toward.” 

The psalmist writes, “Too long I have had my dwelling among those who hate peace. I am for peace.” 

By setting our sights on the cross, desiring to imitate Christ, we discover that there are places, things, attitudes and behaviors that we will need to leave behind, to never pursue.

https://youtu.be/ogGOlGswStA

This first psalm is placed in a remote and foreign location far from home (in Meshech and Kedar–good luck finding those on a map). The pilgrim has a very strong sense of being out of place and not belonging. It’s not just that the location is far from the temple, it’s also the fact that lies and deception, conflict and war are the preoccupation of those on every side.

Let’s pray for peace, speak up for peace, and set our hearts on journeying closer to God this year. Don’t live like someone settled down and at ease especially with the hatred, conflicts and deception that is too common around us. Shake it off and set your direction to head home to God. Let’s start climbing!

Father God in Heaven,

I am feeling restless, scattered, far from home. In my relentless pursuit of home I find myself in a war—a battle within (for I do that which I do not want to do) and a battle without (I am an alien in a secular society). I long for peace Abba Father, a journey from restlessness to rest. I desire only you; bring peace upon my aching heart Lord God as I journey toward you.

For it is only through Christ that I am made righteous unto you that I lift my prayer.

Amen and amen

Trish...

...

This may hurt, but know that I speak out of love ❤️  and to cause you to reflect 🧐.
These words come from a place of what I have experienced of you.

Have you ever completed something you began, or told me you began? Aside from OxyPlayers.
1) When I first moved here (to Germany), after Pastor Debbie first took over, she offered distance Bible Study so I could participate. You told me you wanted to participate because you could not attend physically due to work. But you did not complete that. 2) You told me God was calling you to Lay Speaking, or beyond, and yet have you completed any further Lay Speaking courses? 3) You had wanted to be a USDA Volunteer, early on, or even help Jack and George with the Car Care but you were never able to make it, even on Fridays or Saturdays that you were off or when you were unemployed. And now, 4) You seemed upset that I had invited Jack alone to participate in the drawing challenge. Honestly it was because I believed he alone would commit to the challenge. Robin has surprised me. 😲

I honestly did expect you to quit because that has been my experience of you. Say “yes” but not complete. And I know Jack didn’t draw every single day. I know he draws for 4 or 5 days at a time and then uploads them each day. That’s fine. I knew Jack would complete the challenge if he accepted it. And I knew you would not. Jack, unlike me, learns nothing from the act of drawing. Jack just loves the opportunity to draw. He is good and he enjoys it. But at least it causes him pause and reflect, “hm Day 20-Someone I Love ... well that’s easy, the grandkids”. “Day 15-A Silly Monster ... I’m going to draw Big Foot relaxing on a beach in the sun with a foofie umbrella drink”. He may have had no thought beyond that but to me it screamed Jack needs some down time to just relax, maybe down in Florida because he misses it. But you didn’t get that far. You got to Day 9-My Favourite Candy. That is telling as well. Easy to draw because you are busy. Individually wrapped for convenience, because you don’t manage your time well. Dark chocolate with a burst of mint that lingers in your mouth long after. After tastes are always interesting experiences. It is the after taste of you not getting beyond day 9 that has led me to write this very long, verbose ponderism.

And I know you never want to hear the words unreliable because you believe yourself to be totally dependable. “Monica, look at work! I busted my butt there!” “Geesh Monica, what about my commitment to Danny?” “I was there through thick and thin at all the drama rehearsals and performances!” “I alone am still there with and for Suanne.”

Ok, I hear you.

Working 14 hours a day/7 days a week is taxing, draining, plain exhausting. You had no time for anything else at all when you worked O’Reilley’s. Not even for yourself.
And we have discussed that Danny relationship ad nauseum, I won’t go there.
And Suanne? Honestly, you are right, I did quit the “support group mentality”. She seems always to be in a pitiful state, Penny and Michael, her Mom and Grandmother are always getting to her. The girls as well. And she never takes any advice to heart. She does nothing to improve her situation, her emotional state, her mental state. I determined she enjoys the drama and I could not stay in that relationship for my own mental and emotional health. I can set boundaries and draw lines. Good on you to be empathetic enough to sit in the deep pit of wallow with her. I tried but I kept looking up at the blue sky with white puffy clouds that looked like dolphins playing happily in the ocean or pups chasing butterflies. It wasn’t for me. The dark, dank pit of misery and despair may fit Suanne but not me. And that you remain in that pit beside her, well ... that is telling.

If, IF you complete this journal book thing you began, I will take all these words and swallow them. But honestly, I don’t believe I will have to.

Prove me wrong. Or not. Really you have nothing to prove to me, only to yourself and God.

BUT you need to commit to something, Trish. You cannot be grey, you cannot sit on the fence. You can’t be both a sheep 🐑  and a goat 🐐 . You have to develop a passion for something. Heck even Suanne has a passion for something - herself and drama - but you? It was O’Reilley’s I suppose, sad as that is. Regain that passion for God that you once had. Take those Lay Speaking Courses. Earn that License and then get that Certification. You were called, called.by.God! Remember? And when you ignore a God call, well, life gets immeasurably more difficult.

Again, commit to anything, follow through, complete ... something.

Go ahead. Prove me wrong.

You can’t.

Hope Into Confidence

Today I shared a meal with Pastor Gay Brown Hall, our newly appointed minster charged with shepherding our congregation. It was a delightful meal and I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know more about her; we shared stories, we laughed, and yes, I cried...I'm way too sensitive at timepinknow. The reason I share all of this with you is because of the confidence that I am filled with after we parted ways. 

I have always had hope in the ongoing ministries within St. Mark's. 

I have always held hope for new and continued missions from St. Mark's.

I have always maintained hope of a bright and sustaining future for St. Mark's.

How have I managed to hold this hope? Because of who St. Mark's is. Beyond the buildings and the walls, the altar and the cross, the organ and the paraments. It is you, me, we the people. We who are so welcoming, we who love and share our lives so completely with each, we who are one family in God through Christ Jesus.

This afternoon my hope has been turned into confidence.

I am confident that the ministries of St. Mark's will be ordered as God has need.

I am confident that our outreach and missions here at St. Mark's will have a significant impact upon our local and surrounding communities.

I am confident that God has a plan for St. Mark's that will carry us now and into the future.

I have this confidence because of the assurance I felt from my conversation with Pastor Gay. I am assured that she will work with us and am confident that we will work with her. Together we will discern and vision God's design and path for us. Together we will develop programs and ministries to accomplish great things for God's glory. Ministry with. That is a great feeling that moves me from hope to confidence. I pray that your hope is moved to confidence as well as together, Pastor Gay, your ministry leaders, and you all, work into God's vision for St. Mark's.

It's Not Supposed To Be ...

... Me!

I am not the one who is supposed to be doing this.

I am not the one who went to seminary.

I am not a minister.

Why would he announce that he will still be our pastor and yet shirk ALL of his worship responsibilities? Why did I feel obligated to step in and come up with the services? 

I can't do this!! It is too hard!! It is beyond my capabilities!!

I am tired...

And I am spent...

There is nothing left within me...

I just want to crawl into bed, pull the covers, and cry.

So here ... so Her

So tonight I made a BIG mistake. I was asked if we know who our new minister is. I said yes, because in truth we do, and just like every other time I have been asked I said "but we can't say who it is until telling Sunday on May 18th". Lesley continued with "I hope he's young with a family." Here was my mistake - "she has a dogter." The 'she' killed me. 

Lesley said "well that is going to decimate the church!" "Why, because she doesn't have children?" I'm way too naive. "No," she rolled on. "Foxhill lost half it's membership when we got a woman minister. Half!"

I thought about what she said. I think that any minister that followed Mike Nobles, who had ministered First, Foxhill for seventeen years (I've been told), would have been crucified. It is the same at St. Mark's. I mean really did Roy ever even stand a chance following Jeff? We could have had Jesus Christ follow Jeff and half the congregation would have left. Seriously. 

Will we, at St. Mark's, be accepting of a woman minister? I had truly thought so until I heard Lesley's remark. Now I am not so sure. 

Reverend Hall is coming to us because Joe perceived conflict within our church and she is a pro at conflict resolution. I wish I could have told him that we have no conflict except with our current minister ... but ... well, our feelings for Roy were crystal clear to Joe and he determined that we are conflictual  and need some resolving. 

So I pray for Reverend Hall, that our ministerial conflicts began with and end with Roy and that there is no lingering side-effects. I pray that our congregation be open-minded. I pray that we warmly greet and accept Reverend Hall for who she is and not resent her for who she is not. Jeff is gone and he will not be sent back into our fold. May we embrace Reverend Hall and acknowledge that sometimes change is indeed good.

Letter Writing

I know that emails back and forth are a totally really bad idea, but I just can't help myself. 

So, background story is in order...

I emailed Pastor Roy about a Sunday to honor our graduates. He replied back, a bit indignantly if fact, of honoring those who never seem to grace the sanctuary of the church with their presence ... those who are baptized, may come when a small child and never to return except to be praised and honored on a graduation Sunday. I wrote him back trying to encourage the graciousness of supporting the grandparents and parents of these kids and acknowledging the success of the kids, especially those who do not grace our building with their presence. It's the Christ like thing to do. He wrote back and agreed and voiced some of his frustrations, lack of a youth program and societal priorities of families today over church being two of those frustrations. I then wrote a novella, not literally but close, back in reply. Here then is that reply:

Ted mentioned the same thing about the youth program...Jeff effectively killed it, though not intentionally. A LOT of really bad decisions were made on discerning the leadership of the youth programs. I am as much at fault in its failure as Jeff and the SPRC just flat out hired the wrong person(s) inevitably. And yes, having an active children's ministry lends to involved youth. Parents are to blame for sure because too many set worship and church activities very low on their list of priorities. God seems rarely to be first in the lives of modern day peoples - of their time, their finances, and/or their resources. God rarely gets the best 10% of anything...IF He gets anything at all.

I know you are frustrated. You have been ministering for over 30 years now. Times are different, people are different, community is different now than when you began. And, YOU are different. You are at a stage in your life where you want more freedom to travel, to enjoy your life, your home and your family that is scattered in three states from Massachusetts to Georgia. And your wife near to Afton Mountain, nearer to your only grand baby than you are. You don't get to go see her as often as you would like (your wife AND your grand baby). You should be thinking about retiring at this point in your life; you just don't have the energy left for the battles that exist within a community of believers...let alone one that is now a struggling community. It seems as if you were plopped into our midst under false pretenses and maybe you were but it wasn't deliberate, honest.

I'm not sure how the Bishop's council of D.S.s pulled your name from a hat ... drug you out of sabbatical ... to place you at St. Marks. God alone knows. Maybe what we need is a specific prayer group that prays for God's guidance and for discernment. God has a plan for St. Marks, I do not doubt that ... I just don't know it. And it seems, right now, that none know it. I had heard once that if something is a part of God's plan, then things are made available, doors are opened, and the path is straight and easy. I'm not sure I believe that. Scripture says straight and wide is the path to destruction but crooked and narrow the path to salvation (a horrible paraphrase but you get the point). I had believed the FLC was God ordained because everything was so easy and simple. It wasn't cost prohibitive, we had oodles of man power, and a highly successful building fund. However, many of the functions mentioned have never been realized. The building was designed for volleyball, but no volleyball has been played in there. The showers were installed for the homeless, but they are forbidden to use them. There were going to be community events, fish frys and BBQs and we could serve meals from that "fabulous" kitchen. Now it seems merely to be a "money making" building...how much can be charged for its use? Most of the time it sits dark and empty.

Java Hut was successful in the beginning, Heather Shook did a great job...but it was a doomed venture due to promises made that could not be kept. The preschool, likewise, seemed successful in the beginning. With Samantha's contacts, personality, and her ability to publicize and reach out to parents, we had a waiting list...but it too was a doomed venture due to promises made that were not kept. We even had a Navy Wives group that met at St. Marks monthly, mostly due to Samantha and her Navy connections. And our venture into a contemporary service was not wholly supported from the outset. BUT ... there is yet a LOT of potential. We had relationships with the Cub Scout troop at Gloria Dei, which could have fed into our Boy Scout Troop, we can have that again. We had a Brownie Troop, did you know that? We can have again. We used to have picnics on the lawn and Sunday evening Bible Study with dinner provided. We can have again. We used to work closely with Emmanuel and Hampton Christian, the ministers would even meet weekly, a sort of pastoral support group where they could bounce ideas, vent, share concerns, and pray with and for each other...gone now (and I think Darren really misses those moments of support). But we can have that again.

St. Marks needs a revitalization, that much is true. Sometimes it takes a split within the community, some who are dissatisfied enough that they leave and regroup as their own congregation. Then the parent church REALLY looks at itself, examines who it is and what its principles are and what direction it wants to go in. The parent church has a make-over and is renewed. I'm not saying that will happen at St. Marks. It is what had happened though - St. Marks, the daughter of another. That history I only know a bit of though and what happened to the parent church I don't know, is it 1st downtown? I think it's much more difficult in the Methodist church to splinter off like that. But maybe not...we do after all have Wallace, Fox Hill Central, and 1st Fox Hill that are all ridiculously close to each other.

I know we need to think outside of the box however, when you are in the box it's really hard to get up to the edge to see out of it. St. Marks is a church that is too concerned with itself to even attempt to see over the edge of the box to beyond. The elder people of the church complain because the young don't seem to care about the church. The young don't care about the physical manifestation of the church, nor the doctrine, more the mission and priorities of the church. A building does not a church make...maybe we would be better off without the trappings of the buildings that have to be maintained and upkept year after year, that drain our resources and our finances more and more each year as the building ages. It would be nice to go to the park, set up a mini-console and speakers, plug Brian in, sing praise songs and hand out sack lunches, have a prayer and a short message and then communion and just be in the presence of God, of nature, of community. How expensive is that? Obviously we need a place to prepare the sack lunches, store the chairs and sound equipment but maybe that could even be a trailer...a kitchen equipped trailer. Ah, just dreaming.

I know you are frustrated and tired. I know you feel alone in all of this. You aren't though. You have a flock that you are the shepherd of...give us direction and we will follow, it's what sheep do best. Jeff was VERY good at that...he was manipulative and conniving but he had goals, he had a direction to go, and he was focused. And we followed. It's what sheep do best. And I think we were very successful in one very important way...he reached the broken, hurt, lost, and we nurtured them, at least until they weren't broken, hurt, or lost any more. Most didn't stay...we obviously didn't infuse the love of God into them or they would have desired to stay in relationship with Him. We didn't turn the broken, hurt, lost into disciples...that was our failure. I get that now, I didn't get it then. When I was in college we had a Paul/Timothy program where a more "mature" Christian was paired with a "baby" Christian. The Paul would take the Timothy on and mentor the Timothy in the scriptures, in prayer, in doctrine of the church, and in mission ministry and evangelism. It was very successful. I did that with Suanne Muniz before she moved to Guam, I mentored her in UMW and watch her become a leader...someone that I fully expect will someday become a district and maybe even a conference officer (later now rather than sooner since the Methodist Church in Guam closed). We don't have discipleship training. We don't have a discipleship team. Do we even know what "make disciples for Jesus Christ" means? It's our mission statement but do we do it? Nope...and the sad thing is, we aren't trained to - not by the conference, the district, or within our own churches. Ask ten people "what does it mean to be a disciple" and you will get 10 different responses. Ask ten people "how do you make a disciple" and I betcha you'd see a lot shoulder shrugs.

I know St. Marks is broken, hurt, and lost. How do we heal her? How do you mend a church? How do unite a fragmented community? How do we become one mind, one body, one spirit for the fulfillment of the mission and the great commission of Jesus Christ? And maybe as our shepherd you can give us guidance and direction so we aren't so lost and floundering BUT the LEADERS need to sit down, at a specially called Administrative Council Meeting (which is where all the leaders are SUPPOSED to gather), and come up with the definition of disciple, with how to make disciples, and then come up with concrete and measurable goals, a vision, a focus. And you know what? We won't get young people in on that, heck they aren't even ON Administrative Council because we have failed following the guidelines of the Book of Discipline and making sure at least one member of SPRC/Trustees/Ad Council is a young adult/youth. But...BUT...maybe IF we old grumudgens can become of one mind and set goals and have a purpose for being, then maybe we can get the young people on board to follow...because lambs will follow the sheep, for the most part, when not frolicking with each other in the pasture.

Wow, I didn't mean to write you a novella. I guess, as you can tell, I'm frustrated as well. But I feel as if YOU are ready to give up on St. Marks, throw away the oars, and let go of the helm. I'm not there yet. There IS hope, there is ALWAYS hope. NOTHING is impossible and as I said somewhere way up above God DOES have a plan for us!

Ok, my vent is done now too.

Hope I haven't offended you, hope that you know that I am on your side, I have got your back and as a leader I am expecting to be called upon to help you. You are NOT in this alone, a lone shepherd watching over his flock...you do have some rams and strong ewes to help lead the rest of the sheep. Equip us, train us, use us.

meMonica

Comparisons (as such)

I have been pondering, as of late, the relationship between the Shepherd and his/her flock of sheep. 

I know of this relationship quite well, through all of the Christian teachings I have had from childhood through adulthood. It is, of course, a metaphor of Jesus Christ the Shepherd and the persons who believe in Jesus Christ as the Son of God being the sheep. Jesus, with his shepherd's crook, diligently watches over his flock. He counts his sheep morning, noon, and night. He knows when even one little sheep or lamb has wandered away or been led astray and He goes seeking the lost to bring it home. He keeps watch that evil wolves do not slip past him to injure even one of his sheep. He watches for thieves that may steal into the night and take His lambs. I imagine Jesus upon a hill that gives Him full view of the entire pasture and maybe even the pastures, hills, and wilds that are all around. In the valley are His sheep, munching peacefully on the grasses, nibbling gaily at the clover, romping and frolicking through the wildflowers. It is a very pleasant vision that I have in my head.

Now, if I take this metaphor from the "big" picture and localize it ... well, this is what I envision  ...

The minister is the shepherd and the congregation his flock. The minister keeps watch over his flock; he guides them to the clear, clean waters and to the sweet tasting grasses. When one of the sheep gets hurt, he goes to it, tends the wounds, takes it to be refreshed and revitalized. When one of the lambs/sheep wanders too far away, he goes after it. He keeps an eye out for things that would tempt his sheep, the wolf in sheep's clothing that could corrupt or destroy a little lamb or sheep. And just as I have imagined Jesus upon a hill for the full vantage point, I imagine the minister upon a hill ... how else can he see the goings on of all of his flock?

And now to focus specifically upon St. Mark's United Methodist Church, the flock, and Pastor Roy P. White, the shepherd ...

Pastor White seems to be a very nonchalant shepherd. It seems, from my point of view - a sheep in the valley - that our shepherd spends a great deal of time resting under the big oak tree, or looking behind him towards his home (which is really not very near to the pasture that IS St. Mark's). I believe that often times he is asleep, his eyes closed and his breathing even and steady. He is unaware of what his flock is doing, where they are going, who has wandered into its midst, if the water is crystal clear or has become muddied, the grass over-run with weeds. From my point of view, as a sheep of the flock, he seems not to care about the flock as a whole. He cares for a few of the sheep specifically, all of the lambs that he sees frequently but the majority of the flock are floundering and lost. 

There are small "pockets" of sheep gatherings ... 

... they gather by the muddied water and mumble to each other about the stream doesn't flow as it once did. The source is blocked by a myriad of negativism that seems to come from the hill the shepherd lies upon. The shepherd's lack of enthusiasm has caused stagnation. How do we clear these heavy, moss covered stones so that the water flows once again?

... they gather by the fence line, wishing that their grass looked as green and abundant as the grass on the other side of the fence. Some slip through the gaps in the fence and never return, others whisper their desires to go but then, looking back at their flock of friends and family, feel stuck. How can we get our brothers and sisters back from the tall, thick green grasses when our own grasses are filled with weeds and brambles that hurt? How can we enjoy the tall, thick green grasses when our hearts would ache so for those we left?

... they huddle in small groups trying their best to bolster each other, mend the hurting heart, heal the broken spirit, guide the disheartened who feel so lost. They look up at the shepherd who seems to have not even noticed the hurting, injured sheep and shake their heads. When will he begin to care for us? When will come into our midst and listen to our pains? When will he come bring us home?

I want to go to Pastor Roy and tell him that we need a REAL shepherd. We need him to take his shepherd's crook and lead us to fresh water and green grasses. We need him to go to the hurt, the injured, and gently lift them and carry them towards healing - if not physical healing then at least spiritual healing. We need him to keep a positive outlook on the direction his flock needs to go. It is his motivations, His enthusiasm, HIS joy for the work of the church that will infect into each and every one of us and give us enthusiasm, motivation, and joy.

I want to tell him that not visiting all of our church members who are hurt, injured, or lost is abandoning them. 

I want to tell him that we do not invite others to come to our pasture because there is nothing pleasant about our pasture ... the grass truly is greener on the other side. When we dread even entering our valley each day with a dismissive shepherd, why would we want to invite another? If there is no evangelism, then there are no new faces. Those who do wander into our pasture, we greet wholeheartedly. They stay for a few weeks, a month or two, but then they move on to the pastures with the greener grasses. 

We have no pastor led Bible Study, no spiritual growth...nothing, that is, that is led by our shepherd. We set up our own studies, small group, Bible Studies and desperately grasp at straws to draw the correct interpretation of scripture. We flounder.

We don't know each other any longer ... gone are the days of Sunday night suppers, Sunday afternoon picnics, ice cream socials ... the things that would unite the first and second service folks ... the things that made us a family.

We are demoralized. Struggling with lack of programs, lack of participation, lack of committees and leaders and ways to revitalize ourselves. We whisper in the hallways, call each other on the phone. We mumble to each other the things that we believe are failing, things that we wish we were doing, things that we would like to try, how we can succeed. But all of that is within dark shadows, small groups, couples. None are brave enough to bring these concerns into the light. None willing to say, HEY! We NEED DIRECTION!! GUIDE US!!!

I can do it ... I may yet do it. I hear from too many people who are disappointed that Pastor Roy is returning for yet another year. To many people who see the dying church on it's final breath and who fear that another year with Pastor Roy will be like taking a wounded horse to the back of the barn and shooting it. 

I too feel it. Going to one service is admitting that yes, we are a declining church that cares more about hunkering down and surviving for as long as we can rather than revitalizing no matter the cost. And what is that cost? What does revitalization look like? What changes must we each make, individually, to ensure not only the survival of St. Mark's but the thriving of St. Mark's.

I know what surviving is - it is merely going through the motions of living but not engaging in life, it is putting on the pretty colors, painting on the smile, and pretending that everything is alright. Thriving is experiencing new things, trying to be something different, remaking yourself, shaping who you are into something that you like; thriving is living life, not cowering from it ... engaging life, not dismissing it ... enjoying life, without pretense. Thriving is being proactive, not reactive.

A good shepherd is proactive ... our shepherd is reactive and I guess he has been since the day he stepped foot into our fold. 

Someone needs to tell him. I guess that someone will be me...       

Broken But Redeemed

A couple of weeks ago the District Superintendent met with about a dozen key leaders of our church; the purpose was to get know the folks of our church and to learn more about who we are as a worshipping body. His first question -- what is unique about your church? The silence was deafening and spoke volumes. Nothing. Finally I disturbed the thoughts of all present (of course I did, you all know how much I hate silence!). 'We used to be a church for the broken' I began, 'I mean a place where the broken could come and know they were accepted as they are, where they are, and who they are. But we aren't that any more.' I nearly whispered the final statement. A few near me agreed.

Since that Sunday evening I have thought a lot about that question and not just that question but an even broader question. What is church? Based on my gut and visions this is my response:
Church is -
- broken people, led by a very broken person, living in a broken world whose mission is to go into the broken society to meet broken people where they are to bring them home.
That simple.
So, then what is the difference between the broken people who commune together once a week and the broken people who don't?
- the broken people who gather weekly in a church building are redeemed through Christ Jesus and brought into Wholeness with God through the indwelling Holy Spirit who is our voice, our guide, and our conscience.
We are still broken, just as broken, some even more broken. But we know who we are and whose we are. We are where we belong. We are home.

Our job now is to go into the broken world, onto the streets of our broken society, and meet with the broken where they are. The prostitute on the corner, the drug addict in the alley, the alcoholic stumbling out of the bar, the abused in the shelter, the abuser in prison. We are to meet them there and love them as they are, where they are, for who they are. We are then to bring them into the family of the redeemed and journey with them on the road to who they are to become...we are to bring them home.

It sounds all so obvious, so simplistic and so utterly difficult.

We used to be that church.
We used to be those people.
- we were once led by a minister who understood brokenness, who would speak of that brokenness fearlessly and willingly from the pulpit.
- we were once led by a minister who was never embarrassed to sit with the homeless, drink coffee with them, and then walk across the street and up the road to where they bedded at night.
- we were once led by a minister who went into the bars and spoke with those who were drowning their fears and sorrows in too much liquor.
- we were once led by a minister who would walk with the down-trodden, the depressed, the addict, the accursed and the abused and would bring them home.
We aren't any longer.
We used to be unique...but not any more.

Jeff Cannon...for all of your foibles there are ten times the fortes. You are a blessing. You are missed.

I just wanted you to know that. From God...through me...to you. You are a blessing Jeff Cannon and you are loved!

Election Day 2012

So I am standing in line at the polls, a ridiculously long line btw, with myShelby when Destiny walks up to us. She has come with her grandparents and cousin to the precinct. She stated that her government class held a mock election and of course Obama won. She thought it crazy that the class, 97% black, would hold mock elections because she, of course, knew the outcome would be Obama overwhelmingly. "We are a majority black school after all", was her statement. I thought that sad quite honestly. Was she saying that she and other black children at Hampton High School were voting for Obama simply because he was black? Or was she implying that the black population is overwhelmingly Democratic?

I would like to believe that the government class focused on the issues, highlighted the campaign proposals and promises of each candidate, discussed the pros and cons of the "ifs" ("if" Obama is re-elected ... or "if" Romney wins the presidency ...), and then made informed election votes. And maybe they did, she didn't go into any further detail and I, surrounded by a population of 94% black in line at the precinct, was not brave enough to question this mock election and point out such basic points of the election process as informed decision. I simply assumed that there is a "the government needs to care for me" mentality that the black population has that leads them to vote democratic. I pray that I am wrong.

I should have prayed for discernment from God prior to taking pen to ballot, but I didn't. My thoughts turned to the many United Methodist Women Priorities, how each party would or wouldn't support those 11 priorities. I believe my bent is shifting to a more liberal stance, but not so far liberal as to believe that the rich must pay for benefits the poor receive. We should eliminate poverty, I agree, but not by making the rich exclusively pay. There are no easy answers. The wealthy subscribe to many altruistic deeds and support many charities. The wealthy tithe to their churches. The wealthy do give, and some give until it hurts. But that hasn't eliminated poverty. Poverty can only be eliminated systematically. The government itself needs to stop applying bandages, needs to stop simply giving just to give, just because it can. Charity solves nothing. Justice fixes the problem. The government needs to get to the root issues of the problem and seek a cure to the cause, fix the brokenness.

Ok, off my soap box. Sorry.

Snapshots of Life

Snapshots of Life. Of living. Of being.


A photograph ... capturing a second of a moment in time and space. People frozen in time, forever.


Like this ...

Jeff and Karen in Paris

Looking at this photograph we, the viewer, have no connection or attachment to it or the setting (some of you don't even have know who Jeff and Karen are). We look at this photograph and say "gorgeous setting" or "don't they look happy" or even "wow". But we are not there, we are not Jeff and Karen, and we are not the photographer. Jeff and Karen, however, will look back on this photograph someday in the future and will remember not only where they were but who they were with (Bernard and Tracey), what they were doing moments before this photograph was taken, where they went moments after. Maybe they will remember where they ate breakfast or lunch, maybe where they shopped, or where they ate dinner. This photograph, to Jeff and Karen, will bring back a memory of visual images and a flood of emotions. They are connected to this photograph, to this event, to this moment in time and space. We, we are merely outside observers that have knowledge ... you now having more knowledge after reading this paragraph than you may have had just looking at the picture. But knowledge isn't a cue to memory and knowledge does trigger emotional responses.

Now, imagine living your entire life as the unattached viewer of a photograph. Imagine you have no connection to not only the visual cues of photographs but also the visual and audible cues of video images. Imagine having no emotional correlation to anything that you are seeing or hearing. You would not, could not, ever be involved in a life that you have no relationship to. 

That, THAT has been my life to this point in time. Snippets of a life that I have lived, a photograph of a moment forever frozen in time but not connected to me. Until this point in my life.

I imagine that most people can recall a moment in their life and remember what they were doing, where they were, and who they were with. I imagine that THIS is finally how things are becoming for me. Finally, after a lifetime of lack, I will have a full and complete picture. Not merely what I know, for knowing is different that memory, than remembering. I will have a complete picture of a life not only known about but also remembered. 

It is a scary thing. It is an exciting thing. It is a miraculous thing. It is a first. Finally, it is all me.

Monica and Kim

This is me and one of my very best friends on Rosedale Dr. in Las Cruces. It was taken on the way to high school, Mayfield High School. We had just stepped out of the house and her brother, Danny, snapped this picture of us as he was teasing us (an activity that he did often when he was home). We will come back to her house after school and listen to Donny Osmond and the Beatles White Album, drink sodas and munch on chips, and we will talk about the boys in high school, the girls in high school, and we will try our hardest to fit in even though we both know that we will not ever fit in. 

I remember, not only this day but many days such as this at Kim's house.

The Sounds of Silence

So, I am sitting here (well, laying actually) in what would be absolute quiet, if not for the small plane landing at Langley, with myLittle Kitty on one side and myAnnie on the other, pondering the deep silence of the house. A silence, now that the plane has landed, that isn't even disturbed by the breathing of the animals beside me. 


This, I realize, is the first time in my entire life that I have had a moment of total silence "all-to-myself". It is rather disconcerting and yet ... and yet it is also rather amazing. 


There is a calm in this deep silence. 


The caucophany that causes stress andstringshighemotionintoanxiousactivityis, well, is gone. 


I simply ... am. 


That may not seem like a lot to most people but to me ... me, myselves and I? Well, this is like being in paradise, or how I would imagine paradise to be, not ever having been to an island paradise. It may be a once in MY lifetime occurrence, or THE calm before a storm, or simply a gift from many to one. It MAY mean absolutely nothing. OR, it MAY be the dawning of a new ME.

Things I Keep

Things I keep in me:

1.
Look at me from all angles,
I am a person composed entirely
of a turned-away back.

What shape is a heart? It is
the roundness of shoulders,
the scapula's heavy curve.

2.
I do not want. Full stop. Things
happen to me, are done
to me. Passively, I am defined. Passively,
I am worn. Passively, I am soothed.

I don't remember what desire means. I do not have
the desire to remember.

3.
Long hours replace long hours. Nothing
gets done. Long hours find me thinking
of long hours, ad infinitum. I have come to know
such a circling world. I have come to know
the damning pressure.

4.
So it is that repetition suits me.

5.
I spend a great deal of time sleeping.
Just that. Motionless, breathing
only lightly. I clench my teeth
till my jaw stiffens.

6.
And I wake up, again and again. I am
always asleep. I am always
waking up in order
to sleep.

16 Things You Didn't Know

Via: Psychology Degree

Native Thought(s)

i so know this feeling - i have fallen in love with characters

and what the author has done to them has caused me

to SCREAM, to whimper, and cry uncontrollably; 

i often long to know "the rest of their story" and 

i think of them often. 

i miss them!

Extravagant Giving - Yeah Right ...

Maybe I'm totally crazy ...
Maybe I will be in huge trouble from myHubby ...
When is extravagant giving going too far? Not far enough?

I went into Farm Fresh, bought a few things, came out of Farm Fresh and there was a slightly older than middle-aged gentleman in a wheel chair who was pandering. He claimed to be a Veteran but that wasn't important. He claimed to have been homeless but just recently was able to get a place and needed funds for food and things for the apartment but even that wasn't important. What was important was that he was the first panderer I had seen since I had gotten this huge gut feeling to give funds to a person in need.

Except --

-- except I didn't do what I should have done.

Give all that you have to one who has nothing.

You see I have been carrying $500.00 around with me while I try to decide if I want to buy an iPad. "What do you need an iPad for?"
That question has been haunting me for two months. So now I have been walking around for a week and a half with the funds to purchase one and haven't yet.

Give all that you have to one who has nothing.

Except --


-- except that I couldn't bring myself to give it all away. I gave the slightly older than middle-aged gentleman in the wheel chair who may or may not have been a Veteran and who may or may not have had a recently acquired apartment a mere 10 %. That's right, $50.00 of the $500.00.

I guess that means that I have failed ... didn't even come close to passing the test.

Give all that you have to one who has nothing.
The slightly older than middle-aged gentleman in the wheel chair was extremely grateful, even gave me a hug as his eyes brimmed with tears.
I felt only slightly blessed.

Give all that you have to one who has nothing.

I have failed you God. Forgive me ... please.


Update:
I got into the car, still feeling some guilt and shame and knowing that I had failed God and let him down, and started driving when I heard a song on K-Love before I even got off of Diggs. I don't know who sings the song or what the title of the song is but the words that I heard were: he's not mad at you, he's not disappointed in you or something like that. I can't find it on K-Love or in lyric search but I know what I heard and it was amazing because it was like God himself telling me that it was alright and that he wasn't mad at me for the choice that I made or disappointed. His grace is more than sufficient.

Look for the signs and wonders of God. Tell others of the signs and wonders of God. Be filled with awe again.


Wow!