Category: Blog

 

Sometimes things just don’t turn out as planned. You ask all of the right questions and you come prepared, but we don’t have to live long in this game of Life to know that things don’t always work out. Though we cannot control when things don’t go as planned, we can control our response and our perspective. And as followers of Jesus, we might also grow in these situations when we ask ourselves, where is God in the midst of this unhinged plan?

Ryan and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary last week and we had planned a trip to the West Coast for a few days of KID FREE time together. We had kept the schedule pretty flexible but on the day of our anniversary, we packed a lot in. We have always enjoyed being outside and exploring nature and so this little beach town was a perfect place to do that. After breakfast, we went to a Waters sports center and rented two paddleboards. We have both paddleboarded several times before now so we knew how to balance on and navigate these boards. We got a map of the winding waterways and began the 2-mile journey to the Gulf of Mexico. The ride to the beach was beautiful. It wasn’t too hot, we had the current helping push us along and the laminated map at the bottom of my paddleboard was a real resource in finding our way there fairly quickly. We arrived at the beach and swam to the sandbar, looked for shells, and had a snack. But after we had played in the water a little bit, we realized that as frugal people, we didn’t want to pay for another 2 hours of our board rental and so we began heading back.

Well, the next hour and a half did not go as planned. Remember the current and the mild heat, well we really were in for it on the return journey. Going back into the channel was a real struggle, because it was much hotter by then and more boats moved nearby which made balancing in their wake a bit more difficult. We easily found our way past the marina and to the entrance of the marshlands, but this is when things took a turn for the worse. For some reason, we struggled to find the right path back and made several wrong turns. We continued to fight against the current but we were already tired from the first hour of paddling. So we stopped at a small marshland island and held on to twigs while we consulted the map together. We decided on the right path of the three that were present and set our course. But then I did something really stupid. In trying to correct my board so that it was heading in the right direction, I put my right foot into the water to help turn off of the island. BIG MISTAKE! I stepped right onto an oyster bed and sliced part of my right big toe in half. So here I was nursing, a pretty “gnarly” cut, with blood pouring onto my rental board and now the worry of infection.

As if that wasn’t enough, we got lost two more times (did I mention we had a map) and nearly got run over by a guy and his daughter driving too fast through the channels (Little Boss captain, not cool!). If I had a snapshot of the moments that followed, you would all be praying for me. I was in pain, and tired and frustrated and really hungry and lost. I told my sweet husband, “I am NEVER going paddle-boarding EVER again!” Then I secretly wondered if Giant White Sharks could survive in shallow brackish water and because of the smell of my still profusely bleeding toe if one might be right behind me ready to finish me off…dramatic, I know. All of the feelings from the first half of the paddle-boarding trip were gone, and what was before me was pain and feelings of discouragement and quite honestly, I had built up our 10^th wedding anniversary in such a way that I missed the grace in the chaos. For instance, I was so caught up in the disappointment, that I didn’t live into the thankfulness of when Ryan tried to tie my board to his so he could take the brunt of the burden, or when he lovingly cleaned the cut when we got back safely to shore, or when he yelled at the speeding boat out of sheer protection for my safety when he drove too close to me in that channel. But I didn’t remember all of that until I was back safely in an air-conditioned car recounting the events of the last few hours.

So what is it about those moments when things don’t go our way or when our plans are thwarted? Why do we lose such perspective and turn into the person we don’t want to be; a person that doesn’t represent Jesus. Control is a powerful thing and sometimes what we grieve most is the loss of control.  I think about the four friends that tried to bring their paralyzed friend to Jesus, only to be thwarted because of the crowd (Luke 5:17-26). Instead of growing discouraged or blaming the other friends in the cohort about how this wasn’t well thought-through, they performed some questionable roofing removing and lowered their friend to Jesus from the ceiling. Wow! I want friends like that! Destruction of private property aside, when things were out of control, and their plans did not come to fruition, they kept going because they had a goal in mind.

I invite you today to think about a time in your life where your plans were thwarted and changed and when life was out of your control. How did you act then? What would you have changed about that perspective if you could? And most importantly where was God in that change and what did you learn about God’s love for you even when things happened differently than you had wanted them to.

AMEN

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Show Notes:

• “Concerning the perfection of the virtuous life … [I have outlined the] pattern of beauty the life of the great Moses, so that each of us might copy the image of the beauty which has been shown to us by imitating his way of life.” – Gregory of Nyssa. That we might also live to be a “friend of God” (Ex 33:11)
• I highly recommend that you read “How I Rediscovered Faith” by Malcom Gladwell on his own faith journey. If you are not already a listener of his podcast Revisionist History and looking for something new, it is one of my absolute favorites. 
• Not to overwhelm your ears, but another episode recommendation from the Holy Post podcast (episode 415) a helpful interview with Jon Tyson a pastor in New York City on his new book Beautiful Resistance: The Joy of Conviction in a Culture of Compromise, that helps give a framework for how the church can be faithful in the changing cultural moment we find ourselves in. The interview starts at 48:26 if you want to skip the opening banter.
• A classic Henri Nouwen quote just because we all need a positive call to action in this season: 
  • “Did I offer peace today? Did I bring a smile to someone’s face? Did I say words of healing? Did I let go of my anger and resentment? Did I forgive? Did I love? These are the real questions.”

“Today is the day the Lord has made. Let us Rejoice and be Glad in it!” Psalm 118:24

My family loves this verse and we use it quite often when greeting each other. The verse in the photo was made for me by my wife Mia and sits on a small easel on my desk and I reflect on it daily. And that is a good thing! This psalm is special to me as it reminds me that every day is special as it is a gift from God – who made that day specially for us. And it reminds me to REJOICE and BE GLAD in the day. Celebrate each day. Be Joyful.

You may know that Mia & I love to go to the beach. Sitting under an umbrella, listening to the crash of the waves and reading a book is one of my “happy places”. Mia and I also like to walk along the shore and look for shells.

Recently, while walking along the beach I saw a half-buried shell and, deciding it wasn’t a “keeper”, I kept walking. But then something made me stop. I went back and picked it out of the sand and cleaned it off in the water. I was stunned to find a beautiful shell – the nicest that I had found in quite a while.

Finding that shell made me think. Do I take the time to look at all the half-buried shells in my life? Do I take the time to see the goodness in everything? In everyone? What was I missing?

And then I wondered whether others who are living through these challenging times during a pandemic and unrest seeing just a half-buried shell. It makes you wonder.

There is a quote from the movie Evan Almighty that I really like:

Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, do you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If they pray for courage, does God give them courage, or does he give them opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for their family to be closer, you think God zaps them with warm, fuzzy feelings? Or does he give them opportunities to love each other?”

Are the struggles our Country, our Community and our church face an issue – a half-buried shell? Or is this time an “opportunity” for all of us to shine? To care for others? To make the extra effort?

We are directed quite clearly in John 13:34-35 – “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

So … Is today the day you look again and see that beautiful shell?

Is today the day you truly love your neighbor?

Is today the day that you make a difference in someone’s life that REALLY needs it?

I know that I am going to try. I am going to look at every shell. I pray that you do to.

Today IS the day the Lord has made! I hope that you Rejoice and be Glad in it.

I’m not much of a fisherwoman. My grandfather taught me to fish on the Withlacoochee River when I was a little girl. He was a patient man that quite frankly did most of the “fishing work” for me. He drove his boat to the best fishing spots, he baited my line (every time), he told me when to wait it out and when to slowly reel it in, he took the fish off the hook (on the rare occasion I caught one) and then he would do the yucky part; the cleaning. He was born and raised in Mississippi so I won’t tell you just how he cleaned the catfish I caught, but you can use your imagination.

Jesus talks a lot about fishing. He hung out with fishermen, he performed miracles with fish, and he used fishing as a metaphor for evangelism and sharing our story. As I reflected again on my trip to the Holy Land 6 months ago, I thought a lot about fishing and the bodies of water that Jesus used in his storytelling. Six months ago, I had just gone across the Sea of Galilee with my friends and clergy colleagues. It was a holy day. It had started out rainy, as a lot of Tiberias mornings do, and it was cold. We were bundled up next to each other (something I miss in this COVID world) and we were singing and praying and worshipping God together. Our Bishop, Ken Carter stood up, just like Jesus might have, and began to teach.  Bishop Carter reminded us about the miracles on the water when Peter tried to walk on the water towards Jesus. Then the story about how Jesus calmed the storm when the disciples feared for their life and how our anxiety can take our eyes off of the one who is in control of everything because we are afraid. But the re-told story that stood out most that day was the story of when Jesus called his disciples.

What I didn’t know in Sunday School or youth group or even in seminary, was the context of that story. I really didn’t get it until I was actually in the boat, on the Sea of Galilee, and going from one side of the lake to the other. You see, in Jesus day, this story (Luke 5:1-11) would have resonated with all people, not just fishermen. I’m convinced that Jesus was an introvert, because when “the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God,” Jesus found two boats and went out in a smaller group heading for the other side. In other words, he got the heck out of the crowded space to just be with a few friends. Those few that he chose to get in the boat would begin to understand the real cost of discipleship and what sacrifice is needed to faithfully fish. Now the other side wasn’t a friendly place to go. It was full of “those” kinds of people. The people that the righteous and law-abiding Jews did not talk to or interact with, and yet, that is where Jesus’ boat was heading. You see, the “other side” was Gentile land, in other words, full of people not like us; with differing theological expressions, socio-economic statuses, lifestyles or priorities. But regardless of the uncomfortable reality of what the “other side” has or doesn’t have, Jesus’ boat is going there anyways.

While on the journey from one end of the Sea of Galilee to the next, Jesus had the fisherman row the boat a little way from the shore. It was here that he began teaching and convicting his soon to be disciples about what it means to fish in deep water. In the case with my grandfather, the shallow marshes were the best places to catch yummy catfish. Water so shallow and clear, you could see to the bottom. But we aren’t fishing in shallow waters as followers of Jesus, because that is where the water is calm and easy. Jesus takes His disciples out into deep water, water that is unreliable and could become dangerous very quickly and it is here where so many fish are caught. So many, Scripture says, that the nets were filled so abundantly that the boat started to sink. And it was in this miracle, after a long hard night of trying to fish ‘the way it had always been done’, that the disciples realized that Jesus was the Lord and so they left everything and followed him.

As I listened to the retelling of this well-known story again on the Sea of Galilee, I began praying that God would lead me to more deep waters, for more uncomfortable situations and more opportunities to go to the “other side.” We can always fish where it is shallow, yes. We can fish for people where it is easy, amongst people that are like us so that nothing they do or say will challenge us or “rock our boats.” But that isn’t where Jesus’ boat is headed. Jesus’ boat goes to the other side, to the unfamiliar places where it is uncomfortable and where we are stretched. That day I realized, after already 9 years in the ministry, that ministry is really about going across to the other side to people that are strangers to us.

And on the way to the other side, we don’t know how God might use us. But we do know that we have been called to fish in deep water. And then once the fish are caught, God will do the rest. But somewhere in the history of Christendom we got it into our heads that the fish have to be cleaned BEFORE they can be caught, but that understanding is wrong. Instead, just like with my Grandpa, we don’t do the yucky work of cleaning the fish; that is the job of the Holy Spirit and the Holy Spirit alone. God will do the hard work; we get to do the fishing, so long as we are open to fishing in deep water and remaining on Jesus’ boat. We might not all be great fisher-people, but we’ve got our Lord and Savior helping us figure it all out.

AMEN

Story as Medicine by Tonya L. Tolson

Some years ago, while I was undergoing my own personal transformation out of childhood traumas and through divorce, I had the privilege to attend a lecture with the clinical psychoanalyst and author Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés.  She’s a prominent storyteller who specializes in stripping down to the bone and sharing the real meaning of fairy tales.  Estés highlights such stories in her two extraordinary books entitled, “Women Who Run with the Wolves” and “Untie the Strong Woman.”

Estés was also one of the many clinical psychologists who went to Littleton, Colorado in 1999 to support the community of Columbine H.S., where two students gunned down and killed twelve fellow students and one teacher.

Estés knows that stories are medicine, which provide us with the blueprints to heal and the tools to navigate our lives.  Estés writes, “[Stories] have such power; they do not require that we do, be, or act anything – we need only listen.  The remedies for repair or reclamation of any lost psychic drive are contained in stories.  Stories engender excitement, sadness, questions, longings, and understandings…

“Stories are embedded with instructions which guide us about the complexities of life.  Stories enable us to understand the need for and the ways to raise a submerged archetype.”

Estés’ work in story-telling does not only comes from being a writer, poet, and psychoanalyst, but from the experience of being an American, an immigrant, and from her Mexican and Hungarian lineages of family storytellers.  Estés wrote: “The healing medicine of story does not exist in a vacuum.  It cannot exist divorced from its spiritual source.  It cannot be taken on as a mix-and-match project.  There is an integrity to story that comes from a real life lived in it.”

Of the many stories Estés archived is one Christians know well:

Once long ago, a man who had been wayfaring alone with no protective guide, was attacked, beaten black and bloody, and he lay bleeding to death on the side of the road.

Various travelers passed by. They all saw the broken soul, but hurriedly stepped over his dying body so they could keep their own appointments.

Two priests in flowing robes from two different religious groups saw the man suffering in broad daylight, but even the anointed literally crossed to the other side of the road to avoid having to engage with or touch the poor man’s wounds.

Recognize the story? It’s the Good Samaritan, one of Jesus’ thought-provoking, heart-shifting, and soul-transforming parables.  In these timeless stories, The Wisdom Jesus is pushing each of us out of our comfort zones; calling us to drill down deep not for only the answers, but for additional questions and meaning.

In her analysis of this important parable, Dr. Estés also challenges us with these questions: “Who will tell the stories so that others can know how to kneel to help those who are hurt?  Who will tell the stories about how those who did not see before, can seek insight now, and offer meaningful and heartfelt solace now?  Who will tell the stories so truths can be told, so the ways of full acknowledgement of what occurred and full mercy can be made known to all?  Who will tell the stories so the injured can be healed and rise again, scarred but gradually restored.”

One of the principles of the Diversity Committee’s ministry, along with prayer and devotion, is to tell our stories, those that are individualized and unique, in hope of facilitating healing, empathy, compassion, and love.