Braving The Waters

I am an internal processor. I am a contemplative person who needs time to think before I speak. Unless we’ve been friends for more than a year, you probably think I don’t talk very much. My silence often gets me in trouble because my silence is often interpreted that I don’t care. One group has decided that I don’t care and therefore stand, complicit, with the oppressive force. Others think my silence means I am complacent and don’t care enough to even make a comment. The problem however is that I do care, it just takes me too long to get my thoughts together and by the time I have them ready, it’s too late. But it’s not too late. It is never too late to stand up against something that is wrong. It is never to late to stand up for something you believe in. Over the past week I have done a lot of reading, a lot of observing, a lot of praying, and a lot of weeping. Reading, observing, praying, weeping… Communities of color don’t need my tears, They don’t need me to stand to the side and ...

The weekly devotion I have been using this Advent seasons ends with this blessing each week: May God bless us with mornings when we find (hope, peace, joy) in aligning our ideas with God's ideas. May God bless us with noon times when we find (hope, peace, joy) in aligning our work with God's work. May God bless us with evenings when we find (hope, peace, joy) in reflecting and giving thanks to God. You can find more information about this devotion here (thanks for this great resource!)   As I reread this week’s meditation again this morning I can't help but find tears in my eyes.  The scripture for this week’s meditation time came from Isaiah 35:1-10 . “The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad…”  As I read this same scripture again this morning my heart is aching for those who are in a dry land with no hope. War torn countries, broken families with no chance of reconciliation, nations devastated by famine and illness at epidemic levels, just to na...

Tonight I am writing from a place I have called “home” for many years. Cedar Lakes Conference Center in Ripley WV. This is the place where I attended church camp and in later years counselled and directed those same camps. It is a Holy place for me even though it is not a “church” camp. This time I am here in a slightly different capacity. A daughter come home, not a wayward  wanderer  but a child of God who was given both roots and wings in the most sacred of ways in the most sacred of places. I am here in this place as the keynote speaker for the WV Disciples Women’s Spiritual Life Retreat. I am in awe, and I’m not sure why, at how the Spirit of God has been at work these past few days. I should back up, before arriving here Friday afternoon I spent a whirlwind weekend in Kansas City celebrating the marriage of dear friends, I stayed up way to late with one of my oldest, closest, bestest friend talking about life even though we already know everything about each other’s...

The weeks are running together because of the timing of when retreats start and end. I began my “3 weeks” on a Tuesday but my 6 day retreat began on a Thursday…When I posted last Saturday I was almost 2 days into my retreat. Now, as I sit here typing this reflection, I am 2 days out of my retreat back into to volunteering (believe or not I am washing dishes and cleaning bathrooms again). The 6 day retreat was a wonderful experience. It was time spent deepening my understanding and belief that all things are part of God’s creation.   We were silent, except for the hour we met in the morning after breakfast, during signing in morning mas, and the hour we met in the evening. You think being quiet and being silent are the same thing until you experience it for yourself. There were a great number of extremely loud silent people on retreat with me. While they weren’t talking, they were stomping through the hallways, shutting doors loudly…I am sure to other I was a very loud quiet ...

A year ago this week I heard five words from a person that changed my life forever. Those words “I can’t do this anymore”, cut like a knife. Three and a half years and everything changed sitting in the parking lot of a restaurant not yet open for the day. A-flipping-parking-lot. I had wanted to say similar words but never found the right time. There were always too many people around or not enough time to have an honest conversation about why those words were being said. In that moment I wish I had made the time. I wish I had force myself to have the conversation even if it meant telling family and friends we had to leave wherever it was we were at that moment. In that moment, while hurt beyond belief because no one wants to be told they aren’t wanted, more than I was hurt I was angry. Angry that he said it first. Angry that we were having this conversation in a parking lot and then continued it while driving 65MPH down I35. Do I wish things were different? Do I wish I could g...

A prayer for the Tuesday of Holy Week Giving God as we get closer to the day Christ shared a last meal with his friends; remind us to be thankful for those we gather around the table with this week. Show us opportunities to invite new people to join us at the table Jesus prepared for all. Merciful God, as each step of this day takes us closer to Friday remind us of the steps Christ took with a heavy cross on his back. Give a chance to carry the burden of another so they might know Christ through our actions. As we move ever mindfully into Easter morning remind us that we are forgiven. Help us forgive those who because of your love deserve our forgiveness too. Have mercy on us O God, break into our lives and teach us to live in ways that are pleasing and acceptable to you. Amen.

Some might say I am too young to know have experienced real heartache. Others might say I’m too sensitive and I need to toughen up. But those who know me best (you know who you are) might tell you that if you come into my life and you need love, I will passionately and enthusiastically give it to you. I love to the extreme and without measure and because of this often experience heartache. Obviously, different kinds of people receive different kinds of love from me but regardless of the kind of love you receive it will often be to the extremist of degrees. I don’t love the stranger who comes into my office needing gas money or groceries the same way that I love my family. I don’t love my family the same way I love my dog. You get the point. While I love fervidly and sometimes without much regard to my own well-being, my love is never lackadaisical or careless even if that sounds like a contradiction in terms. When another person’s heart or well-being are on the line, I try never ...