Vacuuming, Planting and the Intangibility of Ministry

In the last couple of months, a good portion of my time has been dedicated to helping to develop a contemplative prayer service on Wednesday nights in my worship community and aiding in the guidance and supervision of religious development of senior high youth in an inter-religious fellowship.  Online development of blogs, social media networking and the planning and implementation of worship services all take time.  The effectiveness of this spent time, however, is not always able to be quantified or evaluated.  The support of ministry is somewhat intangible.

During this time frame since my weekday job came to an end, I have used a large portion of my time in soul-searching, the tending and healing of old wounds, evaluation of my intended career pathway(s) and filling out applications and online inquiries for job postings that look like they may be fulfilling for me.  Since I have not yet found a position that fills these weekdays, much of my free time has gone towards housekeeping and self-care.  Just as the support ministries listed above, neither of these things are really able to be evaluated.  Although a clean house is nice, it doesn't stay that way for long.

While vacuuming this morning, my soul once more was directing its attention to our Creator.  I was inquiring about the direction in which to travel to bring economic security to our household (although my husband is working full-time, I need to bring in at least a partial income to supplement what he provides while I await my ordination and, hopefully, full-time ministry work).  Continuing in my housework, I simply watch and wait on the Beloved's response.  The Spirit had something to say today as the vacuum passed to and fro on the office carpet.

All is intangible, She whispered.  All that I have called you to in this time is preparing you for the intangibility of ministry.  You plant the seeds of faith in every kind of soil that I place in front of you.  You preach and teach, you hold the hands of the wounded and broken, you guide and advise the peoples who are looking for direction, you pray for everyone you see and hear, and you point people towards My work in your midst.  But that is as far as your work can go.  Everything else is up to Me.

My thoughts turned towards the bulbs I planted last fall and those that I added to the soil this fall.  Not all of them will sprout.  Some have already been stolen by the squirrels who need a little extra sustenance for their winter nests.  Others simply do not have the DNA structure within them to support a full blossom in the warm months.  A couple of them have already started to sprout and their tiny shoots will be frozen over when the winds of winter blow through.  I have no control over any of those factors.  Granted, I can cover the ground with chicken wire or stones to attempt to thwart the advances of the squirrels, and I can insulate the tender shoots with peat moss and leaves to try and protect them from winter's effects.  But, in these preventative measures, my options are limited simply on account of our dwelling in a rental property.

Planting in my Garden - Photo by Trista Wynne

I understand why some church leaders and certain personalities are drawn towards the tangibility of membership numbers and financial contributions.  These things are quantifiable.  They can be judged and thus give some people a goal towards which to proceed.  We've saved x number of souls this month and baptized y converts, some might boast.  Our staff includes more people than you have attending your congregation, another might say.  Competition sets in and self-assurance soars -- that is, until the numbers begin to decline and self-identity begins to spiral downward.

The ministry that Jesus calls me to is not one that appeals to that sort of power jockeying.  My identity can not be based on such things.  I have come to learn that my self-image needs to stand on its own, content to be dwelling in the arms of our Beloved.

Perhaps this is why I have been called into this time of transitional rest.  As my soul and mind are gently healed from the wounds of old and I am working towards ordination, I am called to lay my cares and concerns into the hands of the One who is guiding my path.  I am simply called into Relationship.  This is my preparation for ministry, so that I can firmly say with the apostles of old:

For my part, I am going to boast about nothing but the Cross of our Master, Jesus Christ. Because of that Cross, I have been crucified in relation to the world, set free from the stifling atmosphere of pleasing others and fitting into the little patterns that they dictate. Can’t you see the central issue in all this? It is not what you and I do—submit to circumcision, reject circumcision. It is whatGod is doing, and he is creating something totally new, a free life! All who walk by this standard are the true Israel of God—his chosen people. Peace and mercy on them! (Gal. 6:14-16, The Message)

Navigating the Waters

Beloved,

I've had some rough days as of late, several that I have struggled to write about in my private journal, let alone to distill and record here on this prayer blog.  My spirit and my body have been tied up in knots.  You and I have been striving, it seems.  And I have been loosing my perspective on the world, getting caught up in the stormy seas of the newscasts, the dark stories from friends and relatives, the hardships faced by many whom I deeply care for, and now have received some difficult-to-digest words.  Trying to write about it all makes me tired.  I am very tired...

My nanny family is down to one income.  They are hoping to return to two soon, but as a courtesy to me, they have let me know that I may need to begin seeking other options, just in case.  With my husband already without a steady source of income, (though You have certainly provided through odd jobs and caring for family members in these last few months) this news makes us very nervous indeed.

I confess, Beloved, that You have always provided for me and for us.  I also confess, Beloved, that I still struggle to trust that Your provision will continue.  It has very little to do with you, and very much to do with the unpredictability of the people and the world around me.  I have experienced rough waters along the river of life and have learned that many people are not trustworthy, and so, this dis-trust enters into my relationship with You, not because You have shown Yourself to be untrustworthy, but because I have a defense mechanism up (that You know very well) and I want to protect my spirit from the harm of disappointment...

Beloved, thank You for understanding.  Thank You for comforting me through the snuggles and purrs of my kitties this evening.  Thank You for my beloved husband holding my hand.  Thank You for holding me through his arms.  Thank You for smoothing the rough waters.

Signs of New Life

Beloved ~

As we journey through the middle of the winter time, I have found it hard to remember the light of your love.  My soul has often felt like it was swirling in a thick fog or meandering about in the darkness, lacking direction and confidence.  Such have the months been since graduating from seminary and asking what is next.  Here, though, in these last few days, it seems that your Spirit has been stirring and opening new doors.  I have now sold my second painting: "The Tree of Life".  A shining reminder that You are in the midst of making all things new, I feel like you have affirmed my pathway of artistic and creative endeavors.  I am filled with peace.

Painting, "The Tree of Life" by Trista Wynne

In the same day, as I opened the door to walk onto our back patio, I noticed that the bulbs I planted shortly after we arrived in this place are now beginning to sprout!  I am so very thankful for these signs of new life and promise.  These simple signs remind me of your presence, even in the swirling questions regarding my purpose and the reasons for moving back to my childhood hometown.

The questions remain, but at least I don't feel like You are very far away.  Even if I have to continue waiting, I am comforted in the reminder that You are here, in the shadows and fog.  You are watching and waiting right alongside of me.

Perhaps that is the reminder that you gave during the epiphany so many years ago -- a sign of your love and light, your very Presence wrapped in human flesh, shining in the midst of the dark night.  You are not so very far from any of us, are you?  For all of these signs of new light and life, thank you.

Photo by Trista Wynne

Life, Death & Renewal

Beloved ~

It's been several days since I've last written here... well, several days since I've written anywhere, really.  The last week or so has been filled with a tremendous sadness as I wonder whether this will be the last Christmas with a few of my loved ones.  There have been joyful moments, too, and I am very grateful for the presence of a dear friend visiting my husband's family and my family both over these Holy Days.

Still, the shadow of grief continues to hover.  Sometimes it looms large and ominous, covering everything with a bluish-black hue.  Other times the shadow is a hint on the corner of my eye, just far enough out of my direct sight not to impede my vision, but lingering in the periphery nonetheless.  I am always aware of its presence.

It has been said that the thing that sets humans apart from other animals and plants is the knowledge of and contemplation regarding our own mortality (and that of others).  I am not convinced that we are alone in such knowledge.  I've seen enough pets near death to see such knowledge in their eyes and have felt their spirits reaching out much as ours often do in our final days, weeks and months.

Part of me often wonders about the plants that You have created.  Do they have some sense of self-awareness?  This is a question I don't think any of us can answer for certain.  One thing that is certain, though, is that the blooming flowers are with us one moment and the next are returning to the earth from which they sprang forth.  New life often comes up out of the soil in the very same spot, sometimes right away, sometimes after a great deal of time has passed.

Photo by Trista Wynne

The return of the flower to the earth is a vital part of the eco-cycle.  The new plants receive nourishment from the plants which have grown before.  And the petals and leaves which now line the earth give the little seedlings much needed protection against the elements until they are able to branch out on their own.

Within our Darkest Night

Beloved,

I continue to experience the dark night of the soul.  Little has any draw or appeal.  I eat because my body makes me, not because it is at all desirable.  I move and get out of bed because I am needed.  But I have no oomph.  My spark, my fire, is flickering as though in a violent wind.

Can anyone help to lift the burden of despair this morning?  You, O Lord, know.  And what of the sea of emotion churning so rapidly within?  How can words begin to express them?  They are nonsensical. And so is the task of attempting to articulate them...

*sigh*

I wish I could feel Your Presence, Dear One.  Today I feel far from you.  I trust that You are near, but something is in the way of my hearing of your heartbeat.

Clear the air, Beloved.  Until I can see, hear, smell and feel You again I will wait.  I wait and watch for the light of the Dawn.

Sitting on the Shore: Preparing for Retreat Time

"Sitting in the Sand" - Photo by Trista Wynne

This weekend I will be heading to the beach for a personal retreat: just me, the waves, a little cottage and my God.  The labels give you an idea of what the last few months have been like as I've donned the cap and gown of seminary studies, (wrapping up the final quarter this summer -- halfway through today) pondered the last ten years, (I've been married for a decade now) thought about whether or not to move back near or into our childhood town, been wrestling with a change of direction in my calling, figuring out how best to support aging parents, and pondering a whole host of other topics.  Wondering what is in store for, I simply record a little prayer before returning to my packing.  I wonder what this weekend will reveal...


Beloved,

It's been a little while since I've felt your presence in a palpable way.  I see glimpses of You in the faces and actions of the dear ones at my internship site, and Your love and grace are evident in this place.  And yet, it seems that You and I have been separated for a time.

Questions and chaos about the present and future seem to swirl around me.  Have I gone into hiding on account of the storm?  Are You in the midst of it?  Have You  been listening?  Have I been talking to You?  Have I been listening?

The winds and debris are swirling so wildly.  Questions of "helpful" people wanting me to land on a direction pummel me like tsunami waves.  I have enough doubts to make Your Thomas look like one who never questioned.

Searching for You outside the Church Walls

Ah, Lord,

You know my heart!  I just want to find a community that lives out Your love and proclaims freedom and peace.  After the church visit that I have recently had, my heart is saddened, but still, I continue to search for you.  Surely it shouldn't be this hard to find unharnessed love!

Why should I have to look any farther than the church that claims to be following You, Lord Jesus?  Why must I look beyond the people who claim to know You in order to find justice, peace and steadfast love?  I just don't understand.  I wish I could take people at their word, and that the one who claims to be a Christian would walk in Your way: loving You with their whole being, and loving their neighbors (with a wide definition!) as much as they love themselves.

Growing in the Light

Hello, Beloved.

My heart is much more at peace this evening than it was just a couple of days ago.  You have granted a good sliver of sunshine both days, and I was able to get out and walk without a sweatshirt for three days in a row, at least for a while.  I look forward to having several days in a row where I won't even think about putting on a sweatshirt or sweater.  Perhaps those days are not so very far away.

A Cup of Contentment

As I continue my summer vacation, or more precisely, as I begin to relax into the atmosphere of an unhurried relaxation period, I find myself re-entering contemplation.  I was never very far from it, but there are times in the school year when contemplation must be placed to the side and a paper must be written despite not coming to a satisfactory conclusion.  The more schooling I receive, the more I am aware that I have an insatiable appetite for learning.  There is always more room to grow, and always deeper to dig.  Perhaps no paper is truly ever finished.  Time constraints and word counts place limitations on our expression, but each new class stimulates my mind and heart in ways that intimacy and passion arouse the body.  What a precious gift it is to be able to attend seminary!

Some people will ask me when I will be done.  I've even caught myself wondering this from time to time.  But graduation is not the goal.  Ordination is not even the end.  No.  Even those things are just marking places of new beginning.

Butterflies, Sunshine & Wide-Eyed Anticipation: Watching for New Life in Lent

Precious Beloved ~

Originally I had a fairly clear plan as to what I would do today, but I was willing to let go of my preconceived ideas of what the day would hold, and the entire day has been tremendously blessed. I trust that this is indicative of my lifelong journey as well, and at this time, of my worship life as we approach this new endeavor and unanticipated pathway. Your Holy Spirit blows where She will, and all I can do is be willing to watch for signs of Her action in the people, earth and creation around me, and to listen to my heart's response in order to find where I am called.

This is what journeying through Lent is all about -- releasing our ideas about what should happen and allowing You to work as You so desire. In Christ we see Your heart, O God! Through the promptings of Sophia-Spirit, all of our theological assertions and analogies simply fall to the ground like the palm branches of holy week; they are trampled so that the seeds of love might be pressed into the ground and a new creation can spring forth as we declare, "Hosanna".

Today, although I had distinct plans of where I would go and to whom I would speak, You, Beloved, had a different idea, and I am so very glad that You did. Through the unanticipated conversations, the blessed sunshine and the wild weather that followed, Your presence was truly palpable. What a lovely tryst it was!

As I grabbed my camera and sprung out into the delightfully sunny afternoon, I had the butterflies in my belly of a young lover who catches a glimpse of the one they long for more than life itself. I thought I might burst with joy and anticipation of the coming thing! Whatever was coming, I knew it was going to be tremendous. So I found the quickest way to enter the garden to capture the radiant reflections of Your glory which infuses each flower with beauty. I could hardly remain in my seat for the car ride, and virtually leapt forth onto the nature trails to soak in Your light.


"Joyful Illumination" - At the Botanical Garden - Photo by Trista Wynne


My mind feels like the earth which is in the midst of being pushed aside for new life to spring forth, and every fiber of my being vibrates with songs of delight. What is this new creation that I sense is coming? What sort of new life will spring forth within, through or around me? Like a child nearing their birthday, or a lover who has been asked to cover their eyes, I wonder, and I yearn, and I dance while I wait.

The storm clouds roll in and rain pours down but still I watch and I dance and I wait. Lightning flashes and thunder sounds, and yet I watch, I dance and I wait. Snow flurries swirl and darkness flows around, and still I watch, I dance and I wait. What is this new life about to spring forth? In Lent, I watch, I dance and I wait.

The Way of the Beloved: Journeying through Lent - 1st Sunday 2011

Tonight at Frankincense we read from Genesis, the story of the time when humanity chose a way that was different from the path You laid out. An alternate ending was presented from Rabbi Kushner, one in which there was no decision to turn away. There was simply Eden.

In his alternate ending, there was no extreme sorrow, but pleasure was also lacking. With every need met and no experience of pain or suffering, I wonder if we would ever have grown to love You. Would we have grown to love one another? Would we love ourselves?

What would this life look like if there was no sin or separation or hiding between us? Or are any of these things actually here now? Sin is supposedly the separation from You, but Beloved, is there a place in existence where You are not? The psalmist would contend, and the prophets agree, that such a place does not exist. So what then is sin? Julian says it is of no substance at all. If separation is the definition, then I think she is right, for wherever we travel, You, Beloved, are with us.

"Lenten Feet" - Photo by Trista Wynne

This brings me back to the Genesis passage. What really happened there? Where, if anywhere, did You go when the woman was speaking with the serpent? Were You hidden from sight? Why would You hide when their biggest decision ever was being made?

But this apparent absence is what Lent is about, then, isn’t it? We remember Jesus’ struggle and painful wandering out in the desert during a time of utmost importance in His earthly ministry. In that time were You hidden? The text is silent on the subject, saying neither that You were there, nor that you were absent beyond the physical presence of Christ. We get no clear indication that there was a separation of Your communal nature until the agonizing cry from the cross. But even there, was it separation or perception? Are we simply blinded to Your presence at times? How is it that we can feel so far away from You even when we are found in Your very womb, Dear Mother?

These things are too wonderful for me, Beloved! Still, on account of our intimacy, I am free to ask the questions that burn in my heart this night. What happened in Eden? What happened in the desert? What happened at the cross? What is this road about which we are walking along together? Where might it lead, and is the end really the beginning? How can we be coming back to You, as some theologians might say, if You have never really left us in the first place? Surely You are not far from us, Beloved! Surely we are always near to Your heart, O God!

Perhaps more questions will arise, Dear One, as we continue this Lenten journey together. For now, however, I’m glad to have the freedom to bring my questions to You as I prepare to slumber. I pray that I might be tucked into the fold of Your garment and that I might come closer to hearing and echoing Your heartbeat, Beloved. Oh let us be one as I enter my sleep, amen.

Empty or Full? – A Lament and Prayer for Corporations, Countries and Church

Ah, Lord, as I consider the large entities and the individuals who are being hurt or overlooked by them, I wonder about the state of the world… Why does the “healthcare” industry build more and more edifices to glorify themselves while the community clinic struggles? Why does the mega-church continue to grow while the small church, which cares for the community, suffers? Why does the corporation grow and the family shop fail? Dear Lord, why is it so?

The large entities have nothing of lasting value! They are impersonal, greedy, self-serving gluttons feeding on unsuspecting prey. The victims don’t even run and hide from the heartless beasts awaiting their souls! They wait in lines impatiently hurrying to be devoured whole!

They are like animals without sense! Or worse, they are zombies devouring one another on account of the infection of the corporations they serve! Who will wake them from their stupor? Who will save the next generation from their clawing grasp? Who will speak for You and free these zombies from their infection? Who will come and heal the poisoned land and clean the polluted water? Who will bring equity and break the shackles of greed and power? Who will restore shalom throughout the earth? How long, O Lord, must we wait for our salvation? How long until all peoples can hear Your voice? Won’t You send a messenger again? Won’t You release Your Spirit of Truth to speak throughout the nations? Won’t You heed the cry of broken peoples, the wounded, the deprived, the poor, the senseless, the lost and the empty who think they are full?

The Egyptian tyrant has fallen; good! But who will take his place? Does the military have any more compassion than he? Will an elected official have integrity and pursue peace? Does our government provide any hope for the rest of the world desiring freedom? Do we know what we’re doing? What do You think as You watch this unfold? Will You intervene and bring a hopeful future to this people longing for light? Are Your seekers prepared to follow Your lead?

What about South Sudan, Lord? Are You working in their midst as this country prepares to be birthed? Will Your desire for peace and justice and love and equity be heard in this newest of countries? Are Your followers called to a particular action for them?

How, O Lord, are we to work for peace, justice, equity and love throughout the world when we don’t even have it at home? Our own country is found to be lacking when it comes to the simple task of providing everyone with food, clothing, shelter, security, medical care and psychological, emotional and spiritual support. Why, then, do we think that we can tell othe countries how they ought to act? Lord, who do we think we are?! We are not You!

Your Church (worldwide) however is called to act on Your behalf. Are we acting in ways that show the world what You desire? Can the world look at us and see You?  Or are we, like helpless plants, simply frozen in winter, longing for spring?

"Longing for Spring" - Photo by Trista Wynne

O Lord, I know that I am an imperfect being, but I do desire to be likened unto You. And many others in Your Church, who are also imperfect beings, are also desiring to be likened unto You. Dear Lord, although we cannot attain this perfection as individuals, I do believe that You are in the midst of granting it to the entire gathering. I pray, Lord, that through Your immense love and mercy, we might all learn how to reflect You, or rather, to become so transparent that You would easily be seen. In order for this to happen, Lord, I believe that we need to empty ourselves of the desire even to exist, because in this desire, we serve our own desires instead of Yours. Help us, Lord, as an entire community across time and space, to be willing to be emptied and to let You fill us with Yourself.

What would “church” look like if we really acted as though You were with us and not far removed from our midst?  For now, we, like the little rosehips above, are simply caught between seasons, half-frozen in the winter of waiting, but desperately longing for the warm spring-breath of Your Holy Spirit.  We wait with Jesus’ name on our lips, whispering prayers for Your grace.  Maranatha!  Come, Lord Jesus, and stir us to newness of life.

Welcome Home: On the Communion of Saints Past and Present

“Welcome home!” This was the greeting I received from one of the beloved elder women at St Thomas’ Episcopal this morning as we gathered for the mid-week Eucharist. I was deeply moved in my spirit by the heart-felt greeting and warm embrace of the wonderful woman in red. “Where have you been?!” she exclaimed, “we’ve missed you!”

What a greeting that was! Having been absent for two weeks on account of a disabled vehicle, I was quickly swept into open arms after open arms and greeted with prayers and blessings for peace. Part of that is incorporated into the service in the passing of the peace, but the emotion behind these greetings was far more than I had anticipated, and I was overwhelmed by the hospitality of this simple community gathering. One might have thought that I had been out of their midst for several months.

Oh Lord, what a blessing these people are to me! What a compassionate, prayerful, loving community you have placed nearby! How open and inclusive they are!

Ah, Beloved, they reflect Your light into the world and they bring out the God-flavors in me. O Sophia-Spirit, thank You for breathing into them. Through this mid-week Eucharist gathering, I am reminded of Your love.

"Papa's Love" - Photo by Trista Wynne

Thank You, Papa, also for my dear professor at Fuller, who that same evening, paused from his work to listen to my concerns regarding direction and call, and who approached Your throne of grace together with me. Bless this wonderful, dedicated, compassionate being with even more wisdom, grace and compassion than this one already has, and help them to accomplish all of the tasks they have before them. May they be filled with assurance and peace as the term continues to rush forward.

Thank You, Lord. Thank You for the joyful smiles and laughter and snuggles of the little child I was able to be with, who joined You in the realm of eternity six years ago today. All of us who are left surely do miss him, and wish we could see him growing up, but for whatever reason, this will not happen here on the earth…

I think of the welcome that I received from the blessed woman this morning, and the grace, peace and compassion extended to me by my professor this evening, and I know that You have been working through them all. If I can feel Your presence so strongly through others here, I wonder how awesome it must have been for that dear child to come into the fullness of Your presence. “Welcome home!” that dear one must have heard, “we’ve missed you!” What warmth and grace and love must emanate from You for that little one!

If we who remain here have such strong feelings of love and longing, how much greater must Your desires be for those who do not allow You to embrace them! Oh Lord, You must be so anguished by so many people. I pray deeply for their restoration into Your presence so they might feel Your love! I know that You reveal Yourself in many ways to many different people groups in a variety of cultures, and I know that You uniquely revealed Your relationship to us as Papa-God through Your Beloved Christ, and that Your Sophia-Spirit is dancing among us even now to make this revelation clear. There are many, even in the churches that bear Your name, who do not understand what this relationship means for us, nor for the world around us. Oh, Beloved, let us hear Your heartbeat tonight. Let us climb up and snuggle You, and allow ourselves to be snuggled! Help us all to rest well in Jesus’ name, amen.

On Freedom & Bondage

"Sacred Union" - Photo by Trista Wynne

Oh Lord, I lift up those who are in bondage, in relationships that may be unhealthy with a vicious cycle of violence or oppression! For those who are on my heart this night, I pray that You, O Lord, will rescue and set free. Rescue, O Redeemer! Save, O Savior! Heal, O Healer! Let Your Kingdom come and Your will be done here and now as it is in heaven!

O Prince of Peace, come and deliver Your peoples form the bondage of slavery and death! Remove all the burdens we heap upon ourselves and others! Cast off the shame of guilt and fear and anxiety! Let us be rid of the darkness in ourselves and in the world!

Lord, how much of the darkness that we face is residual from our own internal life-long struggle, and how much is from an unseen entity? You alone know, O Lord! Thankfully You are the One to whom everyone and everything answers and You will sort it all out in the end. For now, we wait and lament because the darkness is so strong that it threatens many lives!

I trust you, Lord. I want to trust You completely. You know what we need, what we have and what we long for. Heal and renew us all: body, mind and soul, and guard us by Your grace so we can delight in Your will and walk in Your way, in Jesus’ name, amen.

Comfort and Thanksgiving in the Communion of Saints

The altar of the world, the intimacy of human touch, the smell of baking breads, the communion of saints, the reminder of the forgiveness of the sin of the world and the waiting together for the Lord in preparation to act for justice as a community bring me hope and comfort following the lament of the former post.

"Gentle Kneading" - Photo by Matthew Wynne

Papa-God,

Thank you. Thank You for the blustery walk today with my husband. Thank You for the meditation at Frankincense. Thank You for lounging kitties and soft couches. Thank You for electricity and running water, indoor plumbing and garbage collection. Thank you for the sweetness of sugar, the spice of cinnamon and the warmth of freshly baked cinnamon rolls on a chilly winter’s day. Thank You for pungent spices and healing balms, for sacred incense and candle light, the kick of wine and the communion of saints.

Thank You for brothers and sisters across the nations, spanning all times and stages of life. Thank You for connecting us all! May we know in our minds, feel in our hearts and experience in our bodies what it means for you to make us one as You, Jesus and the Spirit are One.

As the wind blows this evening, I remember that You, Beloved, told Your disciples that this would be the mark of the Spirit of Life: that we would not know where they have come from nor where they are going. I’m thankful that those who are born of Your Spirit embody this principle, for sometimes I do not know where I am from or where I am going. I take heart, comforted that You, O Spirit, know where You are leading me, leading my husband, and leading Your Church! May we be stirred up and led by You in Your good timing, and may we trust confidently in You whenever You do so, in Jesus’ name, amen!

An Evening Lament: A cry for the Nations

“Their blood cries out to me from the ground!” O Lord, your lament echoes across countless generations from the very inception of recorded history! O Lord, my Love, I join You; with every fiber of my being, I enter into Your lament. The cry of the innocent, the cry of the poor, the cry of the wounded, the dying, the rejected – these cries enter my soul in the shadows of night and echo throughout the day. How can I bear it, my Love? What do You have in mind for me to do? All I can do is sit in the ashes and wait, my Love, and wait for You to act. I wait and I cry and I am deeply troubled on behalf of the wounded world.

     My Lord, my Rock,

     do not remain silent!

     Although Your Word is present,

     the nations continuously turn away.

     My own people – they are the attackers,

     my own kin are filled with hate.

     They cannot see beyond themselves

     they reject Your light among them.

     You bide Your time,

     You wait for their return.

     O Loving Father,

     Tender Mother,

     is Your waiting in vain?

My Lord, my Love,

     I cling to You,

          longing for wisdom, instruction and truth.

          Where would You have me, Love,

     where shall I go?

For You I wait.

Habakkuk’s cry becomes my own as I wait and watch and wonder.

When will my Love come to rescue?
When will my God come to save?
     Come and deliver,
     set us free from ourselves,
          free from the bondage of pride.
     Come and deliver,
     soften our minds and hearts,
          Spirit descend once again.



Letting the Bread Rise: A Reflection on the Life of a Theology Student

Photo by Matt Wynne

To be a student of theology is to be countercultural. In a world where technology advances by the day and races are clocked to the thousandth of a second, we are called to sit. While electronic organizers remind us of upcoming appointments and birthdays, and our latest gadgets keep us on our toes, ever advancing us to the next thing to be done and the next checkmark on our list, the theology student waits. Or at least that was how it appeared before I entered seminary myself.

While making bread this afternoon, (the dough for which is currently on the rise) I have been reminded of my countercultural status. You cannot rush bread-making; so too flows the process of developing theology. So also will effective ministry be.

Once, when Jesus was asked to define the Kingdom of God, after looking around for a moment, His eyes landed on a woman teaching her children how to make bread. As she added the yeast to the flour, she hummed a little tune with minor notes sprinkled throughout, and she recounted the story of the Great Exodus, when the bread had no time to rise. Her hands were strong from her labors, and they gently reached down to sooth a fussy infant as she left the freshly-formed dough on a sun-heated stone to rise.

The Kingdom of God, Jesus said, is like the yeast which that dear woman just added to her flour mixture. It is already present, as I AM in the world, and the Spirit of the Lord will stir up inside of you all, and then a season of waiting will come. The yeast is working within the dough as it rests; so too will it be in the Kingdom.

This time of waiting and letting the Kingdom rise among us is often more difficult than it seems. Since we live in a culture that values activities, commitments, pledges and busyness, taking a step back is difficult. The seminary student has one foot in the world of activity, one foot at home with family and spouse or loved ones, one hand in the ministry of their worshipping community and another holding a pen or flying over the keyboard in attempt to make the deadlines for their assignments.

Still, in the midst of it all, taking a deep breath, closing our eyes, and tuning our ear toward our Beloved, resting our head on His chest, listening to Her heartbeat, is the most crucial thing of all. As we enter into the rhythm of the next quarter, it is this heartbeat which guides our lives as shepherds. In these times of waiting, the yeast of the Kingdom will work its way into every aspect of our lives, and when the time is right, people will come from all over town to taste and know that the Lord is good.

You cannot rush the making of bread, nor the savoring of good coffee or the complexities of delightful wine. Neither can we rush the Spirit’s work within us, much less in another being. May we, as we begin another term of study, remember to pause, to breathe, to savor, to listen, and may the Kingdom of God rise within, among and around us through the power of the Holy Spirit, in Jesus’ name, to the glory of our Beloved, amen!