Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts

Monday, June 06, 2022

Quips With Substance

Interspersed with the pew pews of Star Wars play, and episodes of tantrums, David (who is 5) is able to succinctly name truths of the world. A few days ago it was, "But, I just want to do what I  want without consequences!" And earlier this Spring, as he was explaining that he does not believe in the Easter Bunny, but his older brother (who I think continues to) was arguing with him said, "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. What really matters is the Jesus came back to life."

He can be particularly defiant and strong headed and persistent. And, he is precocious - thinking he should be able to give us consequences when he doesn't like what we have done. Somehow he has decided that a consequence he can issue to me is that I will no longer "be married to Daddy" and that I have to leave the house for 5 days...except to take care of him when Pablo is working. He also sends me to my room for 5 hours at a time. I'm regularly tempted to take him up on it.

I want my big thinking, passionate little one to maintain both of those qualities. At preschool he has seemed to figure out how to navigate following rules and instructions from the teacher - in fact, much like his brother he says he "doesn't like" the kids who don't follow the rules. As he moves into kindergarten this year, I look forward to him learning more about how to operate within the structure of school and I wonder how that will impact his life outside of school. 


Thursday, January 28, 2021

Deep Thoughts By David, Part 2

I'm not always sure what my kids are picking up about God and faith. We struggle with prayer (both have made it quite clear that bedtime prayer is not helpful for them). We have a hard time being in a worship service - whether in person pre-pandemic, or now on-line. Gabriel will do on-line Sunday School, but doesn't like to be on camera or respond to things. David will be there for songs and then pop in and out.

But, again, he is thinking. His recent deep question goes something like this. "It's so silly. God and Jesus are the same person, but God is Jesus' dad. How does God carry Jesus?"

I have no answer for him other than to say that it is silly and people have been trying to figure that out for lots and lots of years. I love that he is imagining how this relationship could be and that to him a dad carries the son. I love that he starts with that it's silly.

Mostly, I'm amazed at 4-year-old deep thoughts and how they give me deeper insight into relationships. 

Wednesday, January 27, 2021

Deep Thoughts By David

David, who is 4, has been showing signs of incredibly deep thoughts in the last half year or so. A few months ago he all of a sudden realized that people die (likely nudged into that discovery since both Pablo and I had uncles die in the last year). One day, seemingly out of the blue, David looked at me with seriousness and a little bit of panic and said "I don't want you to die." 

In talking about death we've danced over that line of assurance and not making promises you can't keep. We've talked about that we're healthy. We work to be and stay healthy. We don't have any reason to believe that we will be dying soon. We've also talked a little about the fact that everything dies. That it's part of living. That we are sad, but that at some point it is just time for our bodies to be done. And, we've talked about God being with us all the time - even and especially when and after we die. That we are never alone. That we are with God forever.

David still makes us promise that we we try really hard not to die, even when we're really old. And we say we will try really hard not to die.

This kid is thinking. He's sometimes aware of things going on around him that surprise me. And sometimes he is not at all. We were having an especially hard week and I complained to another mom in at preschool pick up as we walked to our cars. As I got into the car I realized David probably heard every single thing. When we got home I said to him, "David, I am sorry. I was complaining to Spencer's mom about things that feel hard about being a mom. I shouldn't have done that. His quick response, "That's okay. I didn't hear it." And he ran off to play.


Tuesday, January 26, 2021

Crabby With "No"s

Ufff - I'm feeling crabby.

I was excited to go and play in the snow with my kiddos after school, but they both decided they would rather play inside. I'm sitting here with my snow pants on, waiting for at least one of them to change their minds. Pablo will be home in about 20 minutes - maybe there will be enough light for me to go snowshoe or something. 

I'm also crabby because I was just asked to be on a committee for the church I belong to. I'm crabby about this because I read what they are working on - and it's definitely a committee that's goal is in line with what I think the direction of the church should be. It's something I've worked on in each of the settings I've been in since 2005. It's something that at times I've been passionate about. But, I'm also feeling pretty burnt out and cynical about it. I know it will take a positive attitude and many cheerleaders to make it work and I don't think I have that positive, cheerleading attitude. 

Honestly, I'm burnt out on people and programs. I'm not interested in working on something that is trying to be new, innovative or even back to the basics if it involves trying to drum up support for it or with any form of trying to get others involved in it. I do not want to evangelize - anything - right now.

And, I feel bad saying no. I feel bad because it has been something I've felt strongly about. It has been something I've worked hard for in the past. But, I just don't want to. And I feel a bit like a child. Or maybe I'm just being true to what I need to be and how I need to interact with the church right now. Maybe that's not being like a child at all - but self-aware and clear.  

I'm still feeling crabby about it though.

Wednesday, January 20, 2021

Hope in Images, Oaths, Words

Today was hope filled.

Gabriel and I watched much of the inauguration this morning, including both the Vice President and the President take their oaths of office. The mere presence of many of the people up on that stage made me tear up. That the pledge of allegiance was signed, that a baby was being a noisy baby during the president's oath taking, that Eugene Goodman, one of the heroes from the insurrection on January 6th, was on security for the vice president. The joy and soul the our VPOTUS and POTUS exuded. The well-done speech of President Joe Biden. The first woman, first black, first Indian-American Vice President. All filled me with hope.

But, it was the poet, Amanda Gorman, and her poem "The Hill We Climb" that really keeps hitting me with emotion - of relief - of hope - of resolve.

When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry,
a sea we must wade
We've braved the belly of the beast
We've learned that quiet isn't always peace
And the norms and notions
of what just is
Isn’t always just-ice
And yet the dawn is ours
before we knew it
Somehow we do it
Somehow we've weathered and witnessed
a nation that isn’t broken
but simply unfinished
We the successors of a country and a time
Where a skinny Black girl
descended from slaves and raised by a single mother
can dream of becoming president
only to find herself reciting for one
And yes we are far from polished
far from pristine
but that doesn’t mean we are
striving to form a union that is perfect
We are striving to forge a union with purpose
To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and
conditions of man
And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us
but what stands before us
We close the divide because we know, to put our future first,
we must first put our differences aside
We lay down our arms
so we can reach out our arms
to one another
We seek harm to none and harmony for all
Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:
That even as we grieved, we grew
That even as we hurt, we hoped
That even as we tired, we tried
That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious
Not because we will never again know defeat
but because we will never again sow division
Scripture tells us to envision
that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree
And no one shall make them afraid
If we’re to live up to our own time
Then victory won’t lie in the blade
But in all the bridges we’ve made
That is the promise to glade
The hill we climb
If only we dare
It's because being American is more than a pride we inherit,
it’s the past we step into
and how we repair it
We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation
rather than share it
Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy
And this effort very nearly succeeded
But while democracy can be periodically delayed
it can never be permanently defeated
In this truth
in this faith we trust
For while we have our eyes on the future
history has its eyes on us
This is the era of just redemption
We feared at its inception
We did not feel prepared to be the heirs
of such a terrifying hour
but within it we found the power
to author a new chapter
To offer hope and laughter to ourselves
So while once we asked,
how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?
Now we assert
How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?
We will not march back to what was
but move to what shall be
A country that is bruised but whole,
benevolent but bold,
fierce and free
We will not be turned around
or interrupted by intimidation
because we know our inaction and inertia
will be the inheritance of the next generation
Our blunders become their burdens
But one thing is certain:
If we merge mercy with might,
and might with right,
then love becomes our legacy
and change our children’s birthright
So let us leave behind a country
better than the one we were left with
Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest,
we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one
We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the west,
we will rise from the windswept northeast
where our forefathers first realized revolution
We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states,
we will rise from the sunbaked south
We will rebuild, reconcile and recover
and every known nook of our nation and
every corner called our country,
our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,
battered and beautiful
When day comes we step out of the shade,
aflame and unafraid
The new dawn blooms as we free it
For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it
If only we’re brave enough to be it

Monday, January 18, 2021

Bold Heart

Last year I arrived at a "theme word" for the year. It had been something I'd see others do and wondered if I should do it too, but didn't make much of an effort at finding one for myself. But, last year, as I contemplated what I thought would lie ahead for me in 2020, and as I gazed adoringly at my new coffee maker, I came up with the word bold. Bold is one of the settings I can choose on my coffee maker, but it spoke to me in more ways than just good-tasting coffee. And so, I periodically thought about what it meant to be bold throughout the year. 

This year I received a gift (from myself) of a 1-time subscription box geared toward women in ministry. I may do the 1-time box again, because I received some things I wouldn't necessarily get for myself, but that I think will be nice to have. In the cover of the box was a sticker that said, "The magi were guided by a star. Here is your guiding word for 2021: heart."

And so this year I will be focusing on heart. Perhaps with a bit of the residual bold connected to it.

Wednesday, January 13, 2021

No More Rev

On Tuesday I got a call that didn't surprise me, but that I wasn't really expecting. Our church's associate pastor took a new call and the senior pastor was asking if I could fill in on an interim basis. At my request he named a few of the tasks that he was hoping someone would be able to fill - which if he had asked me 10 years ago I would have jumped at: preaching periodically, confirmation and Sunday School. If I were in a call I would have wanted to have other responsibilities, but to just fill in with those duties would have been fun. 

After talking with Pablo, I came to the realization that while I am immediately concerned about the amount of time these things would require, it's mostly about the fact that I'm intentionally stepping out of the identity of pastor. It's a weird and emotional thing to be letting go of the title of Pastor and the Reverend. And, I'm in the middle of that work right now. I'm preparing to, at the end of August, send a letter to my alma maters to ask them to change my title from Rev to Ms. I already am not wanting to claim any authority regarding worship or faith - although don't get me started on justice issues. 

When talking with my dear friend, Melinda, the other day, I named that presiding at sacraments (baptism and communion) are things that I miss dearly. But beyond that (and the celebration of what I have been able to do as pastor for 15 (really more like 11) years), I am not mourning the responsibilities of being a pastor. 

But those are no small thing. 

I've left a message saying I'd like to talk about the details, but I'm ultimately going to say that I will help with Sunday School as a parent. If he prefers to have someone do all three of those as a pastor, that is fine. I just am clear that I do not want to be in a position as pastor or "the Rev" anymore.

Tuesday, October 08, 2019

Conversations Producing Ripples

This week includes a number of intense conversations that are requiring different parts of who I am. Yesterday, in the 2 hours in which my kids were at preschool, I had a conversation with a recruiter for an incredibly exciting position. Then, immediately afterwards had a coffee date with a friend.

Today, during work I'm having to sort out some billing discrepancies with a vendor who hasn't been the easiest to deal with. And, I'm going to be taking communion to a woman I've never met before with some dementia.

Tomorrow, during preschool, Pablo and I will be having our check in with our financial advisor, and then I'm going to meet with a community member about another possible direction I might take my life.

I thought about looking at my calendar to see what happens Thursday, but I'm not sure that matters really. Because the point is made: these conversations are requiring such different parts of me, but all of them needing some degree of curiosity, some degree of clarity, and some degree of having my stuff together. (Although, the coffee with a friend didn't require that....only that it was immediately after the other conversation).

I'm nervous about both of today's conversations. I'll be very glad when they are done. But the others feel like they bring some excitement and accomplishment. Excitement at possibility, at connection. Accomplishment at adulting responsibly (that's mostly the finance conversation - but the others are adulting as well).

There are some weeks and months where it feels like the majority of my conversations and work are, while not calm, steady. Parenting, pastoring - fulfilling the duties and work that are common and routine. This week does not feel routine. And it feels like these conversations will have ripples of affect into the future - for better and for worse.

Sunday, November 25, 2018

Sundays Off


One of the perks of my current gig is that I get one Sunday off a month. Often this Sunday has gotten used for traveling or an event, but sometimes (like today) it will allow me to worship with my family.

Neither of my kids are very easy to handle in worship. And, as previously mentioned, Pablo superhumanly does it himself a couple times a month. I like these opportunities for us to be one-on-one with our kids and for me to get to help one pay attention (often I have Gabriel), whispering what is going on up front. 

Plus, it gives me the opportunity to hear another preacher - to hear the words of institution spoken for me. For these moments, I am thankful.

Sunday, November 11, 2018

Parenting Partner

Today - and every day - I am so grateful for my partner in life...and most obviously now, my partner in parenting. Many weekends, parts of Saturdays and Sundays mean that Pablo takes on the stay-at-home parent lifestyle. And, he easily navigates all that is required to care for (and entertain) our boys.

I'm especially grateful for this on Sundays. It's not easy bringing two busy young kids to worship by oneself. Especially when the other parent is up front. While it's not part of his own practice, Pablo brings the boys twice a month to worship - even as that means he essentially brings the boys for about 10 minutes of doing what most of us think of as worship - and the other 40 minutes (we have short services) chasing after the boys heading in two different directions.

I do feel that pang of wanting to sit with my boys, whispering guidance and explanation to them throughout the service. But, even as I can't be that person, I am so very glad that Pablo is up for the task of herding and parenting that makes it possible for me to do my work and the boys to grow up in the church.

Monday, February 10, 2014

Making Changes

At this very moment, my husband is being a better advocate for my faith practice than I am.

Looking at the calendar, I realized that the annual meeting for our housing association is schedule on the first Wednesday in Lent. I have been looking forward to this - probably only the 2nd opportunity for me to meet others in our area in some kind of structured setting since I moved here 8 months ago.

I've been looking forward to putting names to faces and figuring out what the association does.

Then, I saw that it was at the same time of another thing I've been eagerly anticipating - worshiping at Lenten services.  So, P has now sent an e-mail to the association (an e-mail everyone will see) noting that the meeting is scheduled on a Wednesday evening in Lent and wondering if we can switch the meeting to a Thursday.

I hemmed and hawed as he wrote the e-mail (which is now sent). Is it okay to note that and ask that?

Part of me is nervous because I worry that people will read this as an attempt to press my religion onto others. Part of me is nervous because I wonder if they don't change it, I'll really have to decide and my decision might mean something to someone other than me. Part of me is nervous because it's not my style to make requests that might put out other people.

Another learning, I suppose.