So this is my prayer: that your love will flourish and that you will not only love much but well. Learn to love appropriately. You need to use your head and test your feelings so that your love is sincere and intelligent, not sentimental gush. Live a lover's life, circumspect and exemplary, a life Jesus will be proud of: bountiful in fruits from the soul, making Jesus Christ attractive to all, getting everyone involved in the glory and praise of God. (Philippians 1:9-11 The Message)
It's that time again. Soon our home will be visited by men and women who will wrap things up and place them in cardboard boxes or wrap them in heavy blankets, accompanied by the sounds of crinkling paper and tape being despensed. And at the end of all of their efforts, they will load our possessions into a large truck and drive it down the highway to our new life. It's all really exhausting to think about, and these last weeks will be filled with both joy and sorrow, just as they have in the past.
I counted the other day. This is my ninth move in sixteen years as an Air Force spouse (eleventh if you count moving into Shawn's house when we got married and moving to a second house in Oklahoma). And before that I moved five other times, not even counting moving into and out of the dorms at college and grad school for seven years. So you think that I would be used to all of this activity, both physical and emotional. And in some ways I am, but even so, this process stirs up many different emotions, each and every time.
I remember the feeling of watching my friends Rachel and Bill drive away, leaving me to start a new life at Duke Divinity School. This chapter of my life would have been entitled, "Got Call?." I can still hear the little voice in my head saying, "What have you done?" And there were several sleepless nights while I tried to push down my panic, and many prayers that I had not embarked on a fool's errand. That first day at Duke was overwhelming, and as I walked to the parking lot after orientation, I remember there was another woman walking with me. We started chatting, and somewhere in the conversation I let out the fact that I was headed home to watch my favorite soap opera. Wouldn't you know it was hers, too. And so a friendship began.
Twenty-four years later, our friendship is still strong. I don't even know if she still watches General Hospital, but now it doesn't matter, because we have some many other things in common, and many shared experiences. One reason I'm happy to go to our next assignment is that she will be only four hours away. I hope we get to spend some wonderful time together.
Everywhere we move, I get this same feeling of mild panic, and wonder the same thing: How will I make a life in this place? In the beginning, it was a real question. Now it's more of an affirmation of the limits of my own power to control the future. I think I was prepared for this kind of life when I was just a member of the Methodist clergy, but add to that my other identity as a member of a military family, and it's all a little bit crazy. (Someone once told me I'm taking iteneracy way too seriously.) The physical task of packing, cleaning and unpacking does take it's toll, but it's also hard to say goodbye to friends who have come to mean a lot to me, even in only 10 months. And so I work hard to see these friendships as gifts, given and received, and I give thanks for them everyday. And then there is the questions surrounding new friendships and activities: "Where will we worship?" "Will I be able to get an appointment at the clinic?" "Mahjongg, anyone?" and the ever-important "Will people like me?"
When I look to my new life just 400 miles away, I know that God is preparing a place for me to love and be loved, to serve and to live. I know this because this has always been true in the past, and I trust it is true for the future, now and forever. I will admit that this move is made a little easier because there are already so many that I know and love close to our new location. Now I just have to remember that it's not going to be the same as before, and to take whatever comes as new gifts to be received and used well.
So how do you make a new life? You give thanks for the experience you are leaving and be ready to receive all that is to come. And know that God is everywhere, binding the hurts, healing the pain, and make a future to be lived with full gusto and unafraid.
So here we go. Take a deep breath - ready, set.... MOVE!
Peace, Deb
PS - I still watch GH, just in case you were wondering.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
This life is a risky business...
Our society is obsessed with safety. We want to keep ourselves, our children and our world as safe as possible. And so we develop technologies and techniques to help us feel like we are taking the minimum amount of risk. For instance, our cars are equipped with airbags and shoulder harnesses. Our children sit in car or booster seats until they are reaching adolescence. Many children play inside because they don't feel safe playing outdoors. And most of us have stopped talking to strangers... it is as if we believe that the only people we can trust are the ones we know.
I don't think that's the way it's supposed to be. I like talking to people in airports and grocery stores... the more anonymous, the better. And while many look at me like I am little bit crazy, I'm always amazed at the generous reaction that some people have to these spontaneous offers of community. I had a great conversation with a woman in the security line at the airport in February. It went something like this... I smiled... she smiled... I made a comment about how much I was looking forward to the coming spring. She remarked that we still had a lot of winter left to live (she was right). I had watched her say goodbye to a family at the security entrance, so I asked, "Leaving home or going home?" She talked about how much fun she had with her daughter's family. Then the tables turned. "How about you? Going home or someplace else." I replied, "I'm going to help out with my mother-in-law who has just entered hospice care at home." "Oh," she said. "I did that with my mom. I hope it's a wonderful experience for you because it was for me." 'I"m sure it will be," I said. "I love her very much." "I'll keep you in my prayers," she said. And we walked on our way to take off our coats and scarves and shoes for the waiting officials.
We had made a connection... experienced a little bit of community. What started as an inconsequential encounter left an impression on me. But it took a tiny risk to make that connection possible. And since then, I've thought a lot about what makes me willing to risk rejection from perfect strangers. Here are some of the things that have given me the courage to step out in faith to make a stranger a friend.
First, my mom can make friends with anyone, at the drop of a hat, so I think I get it honestly. Shawn's mom was exactly the same way. The cashiers and baggers at her grocery store even came to her funeral. It might be in my DNA but it's also been modeled to me by the people who are important in my life. Second, somewhere along the way, I got taught that if people don't respond it's not because they are rejecting me personally. Talking to me might be outside their comfort zone, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try. Third, I have seen how these little conversations have led to actual friendships. As a military spouse and a pastor, I often talk with people who may or may not know who I am, but being approachable and willing to say "Hi" and smile can go a long way toward beginning a lifelong friendship. And fourth, I think that this is the what Paul was talking about when he wrote in 1 Thessalonians 1:2-3. We always thank God for all of you and continually mention you in our prayers. We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. (NIV)
This willingness to take the risk of friendship, service and even rejection are all a part of my call as a disciple of Jesus Christ. We often think it's the grand gestures that make the biggest difference. But it's the small steps that help us practice living our faith everyday. And if we practice small risks on a daily basis, we'll be ready to step out in faith when the big risks come, prompted by love and inspired by hope in the one who calls us to this crazy, risky life. In those two weeks that followed my last trip to Michigan, I thought of this stranger, this new friend, praying for me and for our family, and it gave me peace. Her smile and her prayers remind me that if we are not willing to take the risk, we will miss out on the many blessings in store for us along the way.
When we left North Dakota, I cried all the way to the Minnesota/Wisconsin border. My husband finally said, "Nobody cries this hard when they leave North Dakota." And when I told him I was sad to leave all of my friends, he said, "Maybe at this next place you shouldn't make so many friends." (Ten years later he can honestly say I looked at him as if he had two heads.) I replied, "Look, you have two choices. I can make new friends and be sad to leave, or not make any friends and be miserable all the time." "Are those my only two choices?" he asked. "Yes," I replied. He just shook his head, thinking he had come up with the perfect solution, but not understanding that it just wasn't who I am.
Many of my friends are preparing to go to new assignments and appointments this summer. Others will stay where they are, but people they love will leave. There are often tears in the midst of the transition, and all of us wonder if taking the friendship risk and having to say goodbye are worth all of the strain and pain. And after 10 Air Force moves and serving 4 ministry locations, I can say without hesitation, yes it is.
So go with God... and know that this life is a risky business... and we are not alone.
Peace, Deb
I don't think that's the way it's supposed to be. I like talking to people in airports and grocery stores... the more anonymous, the better. And while many look at me like I am little bit crazy, I'm always amazed at the generous reaction that some people have to these spontaneous offers of community. I had a great conversation with a woman in the security line at the airport in February. It went something like this... I smiled... she smiled... I made a comment about how much I was looking forward to the coming spring. She remarked that we still had a lot of winter left to live (she was right). I had watched her say goodbye to a family at the security entrance, so I asked, "Leaving home or going home?" She talked about how much fun she had with her daughter's family. Then the tables turned. "How about you? Going home or someplace else." I replied, "I'm going to help out with my mother-in-law who has just entered hospice care at home." "Oh," she said. "I did that with my mom. I hope it's a wonderful experience for you because it was for me." 'I"m sure it will be," I said. "I love her very much." "I'll keep you in my prayers," she said. And we walked on our way to take off our coats and scarves and shoes for the waiting officials.
We had made a connection... experienced a little bit of community. What started as an inconsequential encounter left an impression on me. But it took a tiny risk to make that connection possible. And since then, I've thought a lot about what makes me willing to risk rejection from perfect strangers. Here are some of the things that have given me the courage to step out in faith to make a stranger a friend.
First, my mom can make friends with anyone, at the drop of a hat, so I think I get it honestly. Shawn's mom was exactly the same way. The cashiers and baggers at her grocery store even came to her funeral. It might be in my DNA but it's also been modeled to me by the people who are important in my life. Second, somewhere along the way, I got taught that if people don't respond it's not because they are rejecting me personally. Talking to me might be outside their comfort zone, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try. Third, I have seen how these little conversations have led to actual friendships. As a military spouse and a pastor, I often talk with people who may or may not know who I am, but being approachable and willing to say "Hi" and smile can go a long way toward beginning a lifelong friendship. And fourth, I think that this is the what Paul was talking about when he wrote in 1 Thessalonians 1:2-3. We always thank God for all of you and continually mention you in our prayers. We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. (NIV)
This willingness to take the risk of friendship, service and even rejection are all a part of my call as a disciple of Jesus Christ. We often think it's the grand gestures that make the biggest difference. But it's the small steps that help us practice living our faith everyday. And if we practice small risks on a daily basis, we'll be ready to step out in faith when the big risks come, prompted by love and inspired by hope in the one who calls us to this crazy, risky life. In those two weeks that followed my last trip to Michigan, I thought of this stranger, this new friend, praying for me and for our family, and it gave me peace. Her smile and her prayers remind me that if we are not willing to take the risk, we will miss out on the many blessings in store for us along the way.
When we left North Dakota, I cried all the way to the Minnesota/Wisconsin border. My husband finally said, "Nobody cries this hard when they leave North Dakota." And when I told him I was sad to leave all of my friends, he said, "Maybe at this next place you shouldn't make so many friends." (Ten years later he can honestly say I looked at him as if he had two heads.) I replied, "Look, you have two choices. I can make new friends and be sad to leave, or not make any friends and be miserable all the time." "Are those my only two choices?" he asked. "Yes," I replied. He just shook his head, thinking he had come up with the perfect solution, but not understanding that it just wasn't who I am.
Many of my friends are preparing to go to new assignments and appointments this summer. Others will stay where they are, but people they love will leave. There are often tears in the midst of the transition, and all of us wonder if taking the friendship risk and having to say goodbye are worth all of the strain and pain. And after 10 Air Force moves and serving 4 ministry locations, I can say without hesitation, yes it is.
So go with God... and know that this life is a risky business... and we are not alone.
Peace, Deb
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Loving is a way of life...
I'm volunteering at a church in Rhode Island and enjoying it very much. I've been meeting with a group women weekly for study, prayer and support. In these last seven months, we have grown in friendship and in faith. We have read books and scripture together. We have shared our joys and sorrows. We have laughed and we have cried. Our time together is valued and valuable. We are sisters together in Christ.
Someone from the congregation told me our study titles sounded like a self-help section at the local book store. I'm not sure if it was meant to be a compliment, but after thinking about it, I have decided that I will take it as a one. You see, I think that we can study scripture all day and night, but if we can't figure out how to apply it to the way we live, it's just an intellectual exercise. The pastoral letters are good about teaching theology and practice. Paul was especially adept at challenging wayward behavior, and then showing the people a better way to live out their faith.
Today our class looked at a small passage from I John 4: 7-16. I thought that it was especially helpful in light of the sweeping events of the last few days. How do you love in a world that is riddled with conflict, disagreement and hatred and war. This is what I learned:
I know that loving God has changed me. I have seen it also change others. What kind of world would this be if we all trusted that love will bring us together, even if we don't all look and act and live alike? May God's grace fill me and help me to go on to perfection every day in every way. And may we grow in faith together, loving God and one another more each day, even when it is the most difficult thing we have thought we could never do.
This quote is attributed to John Wesley, but even if he didn't say it just like this, it works for me:
Peace, Deb
Thanks to Christianity Today for publishing the study entitled, "Getting Along With People," downloadable from their website.
Someone from the congregation told me our study titles sounded like a self-help section at the local book store. I'm not sure if it was meant to be a compliment, but after thinking about it, I have decided that I will take it as a one. You see, I think that we can study scripture all day and night, but if we can't figure out how to apply it to the way we live, it's just an intellectual exercise. The pastoral letters are good about teaching theology and practice. Paul was especially adept at challenging wayward behavior, and then showing the people a better way to live out their faith.
Today our class looked at a small passage from I John 4: 7-16. I thought that it was especially helpful in light of the sweeping events of the last few days. How do you love in a world that is riddled with conflict, disagreement and hatred and war. This is what I learned:
- Loving others is a reflection of the way that we love God. If we don't love others, then we are not living our the love or our lives the way that God wants us to live.
- Loving others means looking at others through God's eyes. That means putting the name of the most difficult or hated person you know in this sentence: "Whoever does not love _______ does not know God, because God is love." This takes love to a whole new level. How can we do this? The simple answer is that we cannot do this by ourselves .
- Loving others puts our love of God to the test. This is the place where growth happens... where prayer and scripture and Christian friendship help us to look past our own needs and wants and to the needs and wants of others. This kind of love brings to bear all the difficult choices, like learning to love even when we disagree, and compromise in the midst of difficult choices. It means accepting people where they are and hopefully loving them to a new place, and hoping they will do the same for us.
I know that loving God has changed me. I have seen it also change others. What kind of world would this be if we all trusted that love will bring us together, even if we don't all look and act and live alike? May God's grace fill me and help me to go on to perfection every day in every way. And may we grow in faith together, loving God and one another more each day, even when it is the most difficult thing we have thought we could never do.
This quote is attributed to John Wesley, but even if he didn't say it just like this, it works for me:
“Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.”
Peace, Deb
Thanks to Christianity Today for publishing the study entitled, "Getting Along With People," downloadable from their website.
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