Christmas Reflections: Gifts

My family opened some of our gifts last Saturday before my brother left to spend Christmas day with his girlfriend's family.  Mainly we opened gifts from my brother (and he opened his gifts from us), but my family insisted that I open one of my gifts.  Mom has been talking about this particular gift for a while.  Yet, I could not figure out what it was.  I knew a family friend had worked on it and that it was not something I had specifically asked for.  So, the mystery gift finally appeared and I opened it.

Inside the box was a beautifully restored 1926 typewriter.  I was in shock.  There are photos proving this fact.  It was one of those gifts that I'd wanted, but never thought was practical enough to ask for.  I think those are the best gifts. The gifts where someone knows you so well, that they can improvise with their giving.  This year I have leaned into my writing and have been learning the discipline of continuing to write (even when I do not want to).  And a typewriter so perfectly symbolizes this journey for me.  Plus, it's really a beautiful old machine.

This morning, as I was slowly waking up on my first day of Christmas vacation, I thought of the joy of these surprise gifts.  The older I get, the less I receive gifts that surprise me.  I guess that's to be expected as one gets older.  That is what made this gift in particular so delightful.  I felt so known and seen.  And known and seen beyond what could be expressed in a Christmas list.

This got me to thinking about the gift of Christmas - Jesus.  Israel had waitied and hoped for hundreds of years for the Messiah to come.  On Israel's gift list was a powerful warlord, who would overthrow the Roman government.  Instead, they were given a baby born in the humblest of circumstances.  A baby who would grow up to be a humble servant, washing the feet of his disciples.  A man who dined with the messiest of messy souls, while shocking the religious establishment.  A man who did not fight when betrayed by his friend, giving himself up freely to death on the cross.  Jesus was not the gift we asked for, but rather was the gift we needed. The gift we still need today.  He didn't come to strut across the shoulders of those he defeated in battle, but rather came to be with us and to save us.

I'm reminded of Jesus' words to his disciples, from John 16:33 (NIV):

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

He has overcome the world.  Not by military might, but by sacrificial love.  And we can hope in that today.

All I want for Christmas…

Are Awards season films!  Yet, this year, I feel horribly behind on my viewings.  I was just talking to a friend today and began to feel overwhelmed as I realized how many films I’ve yet to see.  Nebraska.  12 Years a Slave.  Inside Llewyn Davis.  Saving Mr. Banks.  August: Osage County.  Philomena.  Frozen (OK, not an Oscar-esque film, but I’m still looking forward to seeing it).  Oy!

For me, one of the highlights of this time of year is the plethora of quality films (note: some years may not be inundated with quality films, but there is at least the hope of such films being released).  Like some people get excited about football season, I likewise spend my year prepping for Oscar caliber films.  I do my research and keep my ear to the ground, listening for the buzz on each film.  One of my favorite pop culture sites, Vulture, has been doing a weekly recap of films that are contending for awards season and chronicling which films are going up and down in terms of nomination expectations.  It almost makes me giddy!

Last week the Golden Globe nominations were announced and I thoroughly enjoyed reading through the nominations – exclaiming at the unexpected nods (Julia Louis Dreyfus for Enough Said – excellent) and in shock by the snubs (James Gandolfini also from Enough Said – to be honest, I wouldn’t have nominated him myself, but Hollywood loves to award actors posthumously). 

Now, at times I step back and reflect on how silly this all is in a way.  I mean, there’s an existing system that says if you want recognition in award season, release your film at the end of the year.  There are intense strategies and marketing ploys that are concocted to garner attention for each respective film.  In a lot of ways, the winner is often determined by the company that spends the most money or arranges the most appearances by their actor/director.  It’s for that reason, that I appreciate directors who refuse to play that game.  One who comes to mind for me is Woody Allen.  I don’t see him “play the game” for awards.  His most recent film, Blue Jasmine, was released over summer – definitely not the location for quality films.  Yet, despite the film’s “poor placement” it has been receiving nods this awards season, especially for Cate Blanchet’s mesmerizing performance (side note: one of the welcomed surprises was seeing Sally Hawkins recognized for her supporting performance in the same film).  Allen has typically not attended any of the awards shows (even when he was heavily expected to win).  You get the sense that he doesn’t make films for the awards, but because he is an artist and is always creating.  I can respect that. 

Despite my frustrations with the system, I still find myself each year eagerly awaiting the films to be released.  And the deal has been sweetened again this year with Amy Poehler and Tina Fey returning to host the Golden Globes.  While the show itself cannot top the Oscars in terms of overall importance, I’m giddy squared to see my two favorite comediennes hosting.  It absolutely makes me want to do a little jig in excitement.  Basically, it will be the equivalent of a little girl getting a pony for Christmas – this is me having Amy and Tina host.  OK, maybe a slight exaggeration (slight). 

So, while I may be behind on my film screenings, I’m eager to catch up with my upcoming Christmas break.  To the theaters!

Christmas Reflections: Emmanuel

Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.

- Isaiah 7:14, ESV

I have a friend at work whose son is singing the Amy Grant song “Emmanuel” for a school Christmas show.  He comically describes his son rocking out to this eighties smoothrocking anthem.  It is undoubtedly a peppy song and I remember singing it loudly, while having no idea what Emmanuel even meant.  One day, I found out that it means “God with us.”  That is what God promised Israel.  Not a distant, removed god, but God who dwells with his people.  The course of history changed with Christ’s birth - his seemingly, by outward appearances, insignificant birth. 

This is what we celebrate at Christmas – that God sent Jesus to be our Emmanuel.  Yet, the greatest gift for us is so often the most challenging one to really believe.  As a Christian, I mentally assent that Emmanuel is a reality for me today.  But my heart does not always act out of that reality.  If anything, one of the deepest wars in my soul is battling out whether I truly believe that God is with me. 

Because there are days when I try to take up my own causes and defend myself.  When I trace back what fuels these actions, I see that there are parts of my very own heart that struggle to trust that God really is with me. 

There are days when I avoid what I’m really feeling and will use any TV show or movie to ignore my churning, lonely heart.  These are the parts of my heart that feel as though I’m invisible.  Again, I struggle to believe that God can meet me in my obscurity.

There are days when I’m impatient, feeling as though the waiting (waiting for, fill in the blank) will never end.  In those moments, my heart suspects that God has forgotten me.

I see the Christian life as the place where the Spirit confronts our half-truths and lies.  It is a process that is anything but pristine.  Rather, it’s a tangled place, where my fragmented heart comes to light.  It’s the place where I realize I am just as much in need of God today, as I was on the day I first met him.  And it’s in the place of neediness that I can receive the gift of Emmanuel.  

The Novelty Has Worn Off

I'm tired of writing about being single. When I first started blogging, I was full of ideas of posts on the single life - both silly and serious. Now, the novelty has worn off. The thought of writing about singleness or dating feels more like a chore.

I feel stuck when it comes to dating. I haven't seen any movement and I find myself drifting into apathy. If I'm honest, I feel as though I'm in the same exact place I was this time last year. And this time the year before. And the year before that. You get the idea.

I hide in apathy to avoid the rejection I feel. The apathy feeling much easier to bear with than the disappointment. When I'm playing out the same narratives again and again (or at least, what appears to be the same narrative), it can feel as though apathy is the only option. My mind tells me this is not true, but my heart has another view and has no problem making that known.

I get why the holidays are so difficult for singles. There are so many expectations and visions. Not of sugar plums, but of Christmas light viewings hand in hand, cozy nights with hot chocolate next to the fire, and Christmas movies snuggled next to the one you love. Forget falling in love in Spring, Christmas was made for lovers.

As I sit with both of these truths, it feels as though they make up some sort of odd equation which I am trying to solve. 

Tendency towards apathy (when faced with disappointment) x Christmas hopes = ?

I was never great at math and when I look at this equation I'd prefer to just sit with one or the other, not both pieces of the problem.

Here's the truth. I fear that I will always be single. It can terrify me at times. I fear sitting with that fear, so I avoid by leaning into apathy. I also am secretly sentimental. As evidenced above, I have visions of romantic (and somewhat unrealistic) moments. I feel like Beatrice and Bennedick in Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing," loudly proclaiming their skepticism and disinterest when it comes to marriage and then diving into love the moment the option of romance is placed in their path.  I avoid what I feel, because there are times when it’s just so hard for me to believe that God knows what he is doing. 

As I look again at the equation, I see what the missing piece is: trust.  Trust is the place where I acknowledge and present my hopes and then place them into God’s loving hands.  Trusting that his goodness is not solely expressed or defined by my getting married.  Trusting that he hears my cries and is with me in the sorrow and disappointments.  Trusting that he is indeed trustworthy.

Christmas Reflections: O Holy Night

I do not often have favorites. Of anything. My taste in most things change frequently. I mean, for 6 months I loved my ketchup, mustard, A1, and cheese sandwiches. Now, you couldn't pay me enough to eat that nastiness (in all fairness, I was in first grade when I was fond of that odd combo). However, I have somehow retained a favorite Christmas carol for the last 8 or so years (this must be a record): O Holy Night. 

Sure, it’s not a surprising pick. I suspect many count this as their favorite Christmas song. While part of me is frustrated that my favorite song is so popular, I also understand why many are drawn to it. It has a beautiful melody, which requires a truly talented singer to really interpret the tune well. It also has some of the most rich and heart-stirring language found in the catalog of Christmas carols. 

Long lay the world, in sin and error pining...
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices...

Yet, my favorite line undoubtedly is:
Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother; and in his name all oppression shall cease.

I get chills when I get to that line. I find my heart stirring, a desire to proclaim "Amen!" This is the gospel, expressed beautifully. This is not just a belief I have, but the reality that has freed me. We all begin in the same condition - no one is above another. We have all been enslaved by sin.

Christ was long awaited by a tired and broken world. He of whom the prophecies foretold. And just when it seemed as though he never would show up, he was born. He brought freedom from sin and the hope of life anew. He was the gift we needed. I find such hope in those truthy lyrics. 

What better response than to fall on our knees? Perhaps it is the only fitting response at times - bowed down, in awe of love. The loviest of lovey loves. 

May you be reminded of his love this Christmas.

My Favorite Things

I’m suspicious of Carrie Underwood’s version of The Sound of Music (airing tonight).  I mean, I love The Sound of Music.  I watched it sporadically as a child, but it really started to sink in as a favorite a few years ago when I went to my first Sound of Music sing-a-long.  If you haven’t had the pleasure of attending one of these, then you best get on it.  There’s nothing quite like singing Edelweiss with 15,000 other people. 

But I digress.

I don’t have TV, but I’ll probably find some way to watch this new version.  However, I discovered that my main issue was with the casting of Carrie Underwood.  Sure, she has a great voice (which I admit begrudgingly as I’m not a country music fan), but she’s just too cutesy patootsey.  Like an overdose of sugary sweetness.  Blech!  I mean, there’s absolutely an innocence to Julie Andrew’s portrayal of Maria, but there’s also an incredible strength and depth present.  I’m not opposed to there being new versions of this musical, but I just wish that there was better casting taking place.  Why does Hollywood have to ruin everything?

All that to say, this new version is not one of my favorite things.  What are my favorite things (at this moment) you ask?  Here goes:

• Kinkade Kitsch: Last month I was introduced to the awesomeness that is the War on Kinkade. Truly, this is the only thing that could redeem the work of Thomas Kinkade in my eyes.  And it’s brilliant!  I came across a Kinkade calendar at Hobby Lobby the other day and found myself longing for a “War on Kinkade” version.  Wouldn’t that be spectacular?

• The Advent Project : Biola University’s Center for Christianity, Culture, and the Arts has the loveliest Advent resource on the website.  There are some thoughtful advent devotions out there this year, but I’m really enjoying this particular offering with its creative collaboration of visual arts, music, and Advent reflections. 

• Christmas movies: I’m just enjoying re-watching some of my favorite Christmas films once I passed the Thanksgiving mile stone (i.e. official beginning of the Christmas season in my eyes).  So far I’ve watched The Holiday (OK, maybe not the best film, but Kate Winslet makes any film a step or two better), White Christmas, and Little Women (not officially a Christmas movie, but the story begins with that holiday – close enough for me).  Still to come: Elf, A Christmas Story, It’s a Wonderful Life, and Holiday Inn.  There’s something so homey and cozy about sitting down with a warm beverage in your pj’s while watching a favorite holiday film. 

• Christmas music: Hooray for Christmas music!  It’s fun to return to my old favorites as we enter into the Christmas season.  I’m also enjoying some newer offerings, including The Brilliance’s Advent music and Sufjan Steven’s Silver and Gold (check out I’m a Christmas Unicorn).  As long as we stay away from Christmas Shoes, we’ll be fine. 

• Trader Joe’s Christmas goodies: Trader Joe’s just gets me.  Especially during Christmas.  Even though it’s where I do my everyday grocery shopping, I still get excited.  You never know what new and exciting products TJ’s will have to offer.  I just have to be careful when I go there.  Otherwise I may end up buying every type of Christmas cookie and chocolate that they offer.  I’m especially fond of Pfeffernusse and Candy Cane Jo Jo’s.

• Jimmy Fallon’s turkey mash-up: OK, so I didn’t catch this till after Thanksgiving, but it’s such a hilarious glimpse into pop culture right now.  My favorite moment?  The lip-syncing kitty accompanying Carrie Underwood’s spoof of Wrecking Ball (Butterball).  

• Mokiki Does the Sloppy Swish:Somehow this video became an inside joke at my family’s Thanksgiving celebration.  The best part?  On Sunday, my dad filmed our family doing their version of the Sloppy Swish in front of a restaurant.  I was sad to miss out on this moment, but it just provides further proof that my family is awesome.    

• The Problem with Christian Music: Here's a great blog by Michael Gungor on the state of the Christian music industry.  I think nailed it on the head.  His argument about the music industry’s marketing machine could be extended out to the publishing and conference spheres as well.  I’m frustrated by the state of these industries, but I’m also curious to see what shifts will take place in the years to come. 

• Pope Crush: I think I might have a crush on the Pope – and I mean that with all due respect.  But let’s be honest – haven’t a lot of Evangelicals being feeling similarly?  I feel as though every other week I’m reading another article about him that just increases my respect for him.  Refusing an elaborate living situation for a simple apartment.  Continually showing tangible love to the poor and forgotten.  And now sneaking out to help the homeless.  I look forward to seeing how his leadership will shape the Catholic church. 

Well, all I missed was “rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens.”  I hope you are enjoying your favorite things on this first week of December.  

Christmas Reflections: Paths Unplanned For

As we enter into the Advent season, I will be devoting my first post of the next three weeks to reflections on Christmas.  

Merry Christmas my friends!

……….

Yesterday, a good friend of mine called unexpectedly.  As we were catching each other up on our crazy lives, we spoke about our experience in seminary (we went through the same program though at different times).  In light of that, I mentioned how surprising God’s ways can be.  Last August I’d walked through Fuller Seminary’s campus, wondering where I would be had I chosen to go to school there.  On paper, it made more sense for me to go there.  I appreciated its cross-cultural perspective as well as its more expansive views concerning women in ministry.  And let’s not forget, it’s located in the middle of downtown Pasadena – a place I adore (and where I’ve determined all eligible single men hide out.

However, I went to Talbot Seminary instead.  While life in Pasadena would have been lovely, I don’t regret my decision one bit.  I started Talbot at a unique point in my life.  I had gone through some of the most traumatic experiences in my life, walking with my family as my brother struggled with depression and attempted to take his life multiple times.  Any beliefs that made me think I had my life together were demolished.  I walked into Talbot with my life as I knew it in ashes around me.  In my three years there, the Lord rebuilt me from the ground up.  He continues to rebuild me to this day.  I went into seminary with hopes of becoming a college pastor, but discovered along the way that I love to journey with people and eventually found myself a spiritual director moving towards retreat ministry.

This was not the path I planned for.  Yet, I am continually glad that the Lord’s vision for my life is vast and wide reaching – much more so than I could ever envision.  I cannot help but thinking of these unplanned paths as I reflect on the Christmas narrative.  Moment after moment seems odd.  Why Bethlehem?  Why Mary?  Why a manger?  If I’m honest, if I’d been in charge of this whole Jesus being born event, it would look incredibly different.  Perhaps a more respectable town.  An older woman or at least not one who’s virtue would be called into doubt owing to her marital status.  And a manger?  For God incarnate?  Surely there must be a cleaner, more respectable place?

I’m not alone in questioning God’s plan.  Mary had her questions when visited by the angel, asking: “How will this be, since I am a virgin?”  (Luke 1:34, ESV)  I wonder how many more questions she longed to ask in that moment.  Why me?  What will people say?  What do I tell my fiancé? 

Yet, these questions did not cause Mary to turn in rebellion.  Her response is beautifully recorded just a few verses later, in what is traditionally known as the Magnificat (literally in Latin, “my soul magnifies”):

And Mary said,

“My soul magnifies the Lord,

and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.

    For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;

for he who is mighty has done great things for me,

    and holy is his name.

And his mercy is for those who fear him

    from generation to generation.

He has shown strength with his arm;

    he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;

he has brought down the mighty from their thrones

    and exalted those of humble estate;

he has filled the hungry with good things,

    and the rich he has sent away empty.

He has helped his servant Israel,

    in remembrance of his mercy,

as he spoke to our fathers,

    to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”

-Luke 1:46-55, ESV

She did not know how her story would end, nor did she know at that moment how the story of her son would.  Her response comes from a place of trust in God.  And I am humbled when I consider her courageous trust.  It is easy for me to acknowledge God’s ways when I am experiencing the resolution.  It is much more difficult for me to trust him when my future is obscured from mine eyes.  When only he is before me.  This Christmas I am reminded that though God’s paths may vary from mine, he is trust worthy.  I remember Mary’s response and pray that I may too say yes to God’s plan.  

Story Corps Interview

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about my intentions to post the audio file from my brother and my interview through Story Corps.  Well, my dad found a way to post it, so here it is. 


As we enter into this Thanksgiving week, I find myself grateful for many things.  However, one of my continued thanks is that my brother is still with us.  For those unfamiliar with his story, my brother has survived multiple suicide attempts.  In the recording we talk about the night of his first attempt, as well as his experience growing up with depression.  It was an honor to interview my brother and I appreciate the honesty and vulnerability he brought to the table.  I'm so proud of the courage it took for him to speak about suicide and depression.  Please feel free to share our story.

Thank You Hands

Despite having Positivity as one of my Strengths, I am undoubtedly a pessimist and a bit of a skeptic.  So, the glass is half empty and why would it be anything but half empty?  I know this sounds confusing, but if you knew me in person, (I think) it would make sense. 

In my last season of life, I really learned how to express what I was feeling.  Prior to, I tended to stew and bubble.  Some days, I still just like to stew and bubble.  As I’ve gotten to know myself better, I can recognize what hurts me and can use my words to describe why it’s so painful for me.  On the whole, it has been a very freeing experience.  It’s helped break down some of the walls I’ve had in relating with family, friends, and even God.  So, hooray for expressing my feelings (see, there’s the positivity eking out)! 

There are occasions though, when I go into my feelings and I seem to fall into some despair. 

Nothing will ever change.

I’m miserable.

Life always turns out this way.

Especially in the last year when I’ve hit these pockets of despair, I’ve felt God call me to name what I’m grateful for.  It’s always a bit shocking initially.  The call to gratitude causes me to pause and reflect. 

I usually begin with the basics:

I have all my immediate physical needs provided for (house, clothing, food).   There are many in this world who go without one or several of these needs. 

I have a job.  Even just considering those in the U.S., many have lost jobs in the last few years with the economic downturn.

I have a family who loves me.  Again, many people are born into families where they are despised, abused or mistreated.  My family is not perfect, but I know without a doubt that they love me. 

My friends.  It has been a lonely year for me (some of that has been circumstantial), yet I still have many friends who care for me.  At this point, I usually begin to reflect on my close friends and what a gift they have been to me. 

I have so many opportunities afforded me due to the time in which I live.  If I was a woman born even 100 years ago, my options would be incredibly limited.  Marriage, nursing or teaching.  I’m grateful that God has placed me in a time where I have more expansive possibilities.

My God.  When I was content to keep living a “normal” life, God has numerous times stepped in and taken me on journeys I never could have imagined.  I am so grateful that his vision for my life is always larger than my own.

……….

The more I name what I’m grateful for, the more I find I have to be thankful for.  It doesn’t negate the pain I feel, but it gives perspective to the despair.  The pain doesn’t feel as final.  My vision is widened to see both the sadness and the hope.  I come back to a place where I see that God can use both pain and joy as he forms me.

I hate thank you hands.  You know, the motion one makes with her hands together, almost as if she is praying, usually accompanied by a tiny half bow.  Celebrities love to do this when receiving standing ovations.  Or in yoga class, it’s the motion they make when they say “Namaste.” 

Thank you hands makes me want to vomit. 

I suppose, this post is my thank you hands to God.  Except, hopefully, not so trite.  To thank him for hope in the midst of my life and the creative ways in which he leads me.

Christmastime is Here?

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I have opinions.  And I often like to voice said opinions. As we creep closer and closer to Christmas I begin to see my opinions on the celebration of this particular holiday whisper louder and louder in my ear. 

I think we can all agree that Christmas decorations showing up in September and October are ridiculous.  Now that we’ve entered November, we find ourselves in the Christmas zone gray area.  I tend to wait till after Thanksgiving before I officially step into the Christmas season, or when I was going to an Anglican church, Advent.  Lately, the easy listening station has taken to playing Christmas music.  Every time I catch a song, I sigh and quickly change the station.  Seriously?  Let’s not forget Thanksgiving people! 

However, I find that I am not a strict observer when it comes to the post-Thanksgiving day rule.  The last time I backed up my phone I clicked to have all of my Sufjan Stevens music included.  Of course, I forgot that a large chunk of my Sufjan collection comes from his wonderful Christmas albums.  So, I’m driving to work one day when a Sufjan Christmas song comes on.  And I’m conflicted.  True, it is not “Christmas” according to my calculations, but it’s Sufjan and it’s one of my favorite songs (The Friendly Beasts, in case you’re curious).  The song wins and I thoroughly enjoyed singing along. 

“This is it” I told myself.  “One Christmas song and then I’ll hold out for after Thanksgiving.”  That is until Spotify alerted me that they’ve posted an album from a group I really enjoy (The Brilliance).  And it’s titled Advent.  “Darn it!  Well, one listen won’t hurt, but then no more for real!”  

Don’t get me started on Trader Joe’s.  I’ve already purchased my first box of pfeffernusse cookies and candy cane green tea.  I know I won’t be able to wait much longer for candy cane Joe Joe’s.  I’m only flesh and blood. 

The real test though, has been films.  The other night a friend on Facebook announced that he was, unashamedly, giving in and watching “White Christmas”.  I couldn’t help but sympathize with his position.  He was giving in, stepping into full Christmas mode (there’s no going back after “White Christmas”) and announcing it to the world (via Facebook).  Yet the responses back were more kind than judgmental.  People commented with their favorite lines or songs from the classic film.  A slight wave of joy swept over me as I thought back to the film. 

And I wanted to watch it right there and then. 

I decided to wait.  (Even though it is on Netflix instant this very moment).  I suppose I’ll let little things creep in, but the waiting is, in a strange way, part of the fun.  So, for now, Christmastime is not here. 

Yet. 

Time for a Conference Call

I’m an occasional Twitter follower.  Meaning, at times I’ll check my feed frequently, but most of the time I forget about its very existence.  There are few things that draw me to check Twitter more than Most Interesting Pastor (hilarious poster – do yourself a favor and follow him now).  But, I happened to go on Twitter yesterday, to check in.  I came across an article speaking to a recent twitter exchange regarding gender exclusive practices in the Christian Evangelical conference world.  Looking beyond the exchange, the author researched the largest Christian conferences and tallied the breakdown of male to female speakers.  

The stats were, unsurprisingly, grim.: Total speakers: 805 / Female speakers: 159 (19%) *

While it was a disappointing reality, my first response was “why would we expect anything different?”  As a woman who has walked in church world for a while now, this has been my experience more often than not.  A very small percentage of women allowed a more prominent role within the church.  It never ceases to grieve me.  My next response was, “what is going on in the Evangelical world that makes this a reality?”  I mean, it’s not just the conferences.  It is easy to blame a conference and think adding a few women to the panel will make things cool.  The confusion of roles of women within the church continues to be an issue, which in my opinion, has been mishandled time and time again.  Our Christian speakers are just living out dynamics that are being practiced in our churches. 

This is an issue that tends to segregate and kick up explosive responses.  I recognize in myself how tender this topic can be.  I do get angry.  Some of the anger stems from a place of injustice.  Some of the anger, honestly, comes from a place of my own pride.  Often when I’ve seen the discussion come to the table, people jump to extreme, polarizing views.  I’m right and you all over there are a bunch of feminists.  No, I’m right and you are all chauvinists.  So, we either engage in the fight (which to be honest, doesn’t seem to lead anything except hurt feelings) or ignore the issue completely.  However, this tendency to avoid the issue at hand leads to confusion, fear, and deep hurts at a heart level.  Neither of these options seems to be working well. 

I wish there was an easy solution for this messy matter of women’s roles in the church.  There is not.  However, I think there is a place to enter into a conversation, to step beyond fighting and ignorance.  It undoubtedly will take time, although I think we as a church are beginning to stick our toes in the deep end of this complex issue. 

While I don’t have an answer, I do wonder what it looks like to be intentional with how we communicate with women in the church, starting from a young age, and present their callings in life:

How do we paint a broader picture for women in the church? 

How do we convey to them that they can pursue deeper studies theologically? 

Or can speak intelligently about a topic (and not solely “women’s” topics)?

Or that as co-image bearers of God, they have something worthwhile to share with others?

My heart beats fiercely to see women freed to step into more of their true identity - to step out of the narrow confines of what has been defined as "feminine behavior" (I believe femininity can be express in a myriad of ways).

I see it both as a calling to and a calling into.  We call women to more vibrant expressions of their gifts and abilities, while also providing space for them to step into practicing these very gifts in the life of the church.  It sounds so simple when reading it on the page.  Its practice and implementation will be anything but simple. 

This is not opportunity for opportunity’s sake.  This is opportunity for the sake of the gospel.  For the sake of the church.  As men and woman we uniquely reflect God (be that brokenly).  When we quiet our women, we are missing out on a fuller expression of God in the church.  I imagine what a robust church we would have if we welcomed our women to the table.  It may look different church to church, but disagreeing with one church’s interpretation does not mean that we shelve the issue completely.  

But it is a place to step courageously into a conversation. 

……….

Some interesting reads, in regards to the issue of women in the church:

http://www.estheremery.com/2013/11/14/letter-to-a-woman-called-to-leadership/

http://www.christianitytoday.com/women/2013/november/churchs-missing-half.html

*http://jonathanmerritt.religionnews.com/2013/11/13/christian-conferences-sexist-nines-controversy-prompts-reflection/

Victory

I went to my first wedding in a long while last weekend.  It was a lovely ceremony, but as usual, I was on edge when it came time for the reception.  No sooner was I seated then I started to search for my exits.  The tables were tight and I didn’t have a direct route to the restrooms for bouquet toss time.  I was seated with my parents and my mom joked that I could hide under the table.  And let’s be honest, I was seriously considering that as an option if needed. 

I kept waiting and waiting for a sign.  The ubiquitous “Ok, now we need all the single women out there…” or the slightly more welcome “Single Ladies” by Beyonce.  Yet, I kept waiting and it never came.  Was I going crazy?  There was the first dance, toasts, dance with parents, cutting of the cake, the money dance, but still, no bouquet toss.  What’s going on here?

My folks and I headed for the door after the cake (my mom’s a baker, so we always must stay for the cake).  On the way out the groom tapped me on the shoulder and said, “we didn’t do the bouquet toss for your sake.”

I was blown away.  I mean, is that awesome or what?  It felt like a big win for the single community.  I’m never short on an opinion, but to hear someone respond to that opinion was unbelievable.  And not just respond, but agree (to some extent).  It’s moments like this that keep me fighting the good fight for singles everywhere. 

If you’re curious as to my thoughts on the bouquet toss, then I invite you to read a previous post from summer on this very topic.

Huzzah for victory!

StoryCorps

My brother and I had the opportunity to participate with StoryCorps in sharing our story.  StoryCorps is a non-profit organization that is dedicated to recording the stories of ordinary people.  My brother heard that their mobile audio trailer would be in LA and felt ready to share his story of walking through depression.  It was an emotional experience for us both and I'm so glad we were able to share it together.  I'm trying to figure out how to post the audio file and am hoping to get it up soon today.  Thanks for your patience.  

Go?

Some days I really hate being friends with spiritual directors. I mean, I appreciate the deeper conversations about life and relationships and God. But then there are the times when these spiritual director friends ask those good questions. You know, the questions that stop you in your tracks. The questions you don't quite have an answer to. The questions that you suspect point to murky parts of your heart.

The questions that may very well make you drop an f-bomb.

Perhaps you've already guessed that I have had one such conversation recently. I was sharing my disappointment with a situation in life. This situation is painful on its own, but it also echoes heavily from a similar instance in my past. My friend listened and empathized. Then she asked the question:

What is it in you, that is drawn to these situations?  What is your part in this?

Crap. I knew she was right on with her question. I couldn't answer it on the spot, but judging by the way my body immediately tensed up, I knew there was something to that question. Something I sort of didn't want to know. Yet, a tiny sliver of my heart was ready to go there.

So, I returned to the question the next day, just me, God and my gnawing anxiety. It slowly became clear that at the root of this question was my fear. I am drawn to these situations, because I think it will make life easier, less risky. I fear that I won't be enough. So, I bolster myself with others I see as stronger, more capable and more charismatic. I hope that I will ride on their coat tails of success.  In the process, I find myself hidden and unseen.

This place has provided a false sense of safety, but it has also left me disappointed. There's a voice in my heart crying for more. I fear what must be risked to lean into the more I see within me. I keep waiting for someone to come along and unleash it. As I write this, I realize that perhaps it is not for me to wait for a person to recognize what is within me. Hasn't God already seen and known (and created) me? I think I've been waiting for a situation that will provide this neat, succinct platform to the places I believe God is calling me to. However, I don't know if that's how God would have me get there. Maybe now is the time to risk (I mean, that has been a theme for me since summer). Is this the day to step out, trembling with fear, into new terrain?

I'm reminded of a worship song I often used to listen to "If You Say Go."  It’s a simple song, but speaks to the place of obedience, saying yes when God says “go” and saying yes when God says “wait.”  The beautiful turn in the song is the reassurance of God's part:

If You call us to the fire
You will not withdraw Your hand
We'll gaze into the flames and look for you

I think God may be saying "Go."

Lord have mercy.

Fix Me!

I suspect I'll never fully recover.  From anxiety.  From overworking.  All in the name of being seen.  When I was younger, I saw healing as a means to an end. It took years for me to even admit that I needed to be healed. Then, healing was sought out in hopes of (if I'm honest) perfection, or preparation for a life in ministry.  Healing was the answer.

But the words that interrupted this twisted hope came to me one day, sitting in the rickety trailer that was my grad school's department library. Library hardly seems a fitting word for this space. Sure, there were books and tables to read at, but really, it was a piazza (and I can't say the word "piazza" without thinking of Tom Hanks in "You've Got Mail" when he's describing his book store as a meeting place and subsequently is questioned about his use of the term "piazza"). A place to meet and talk. Many real, honest conversations took place in that trailer. Its walls contain the tears, roaring laughter, and "strong language" that characterized our time as students.

I didn't know Johnie well. He was a couple of years ahead of me, but that day we entered into a light conversation. It eventually took a deeper turn, as conversations often did in that library. I spoke of what brought me to this program in particular, and my hopes of healing so that I could go into college ministry. He nodded slowly and responded:

I used to feel that way, but lately I've realized that I'll always be in need of God's healing. I'll never arrive at a place where I don't need him.

As the truth of his words exploded in my heart, I realized how much I'd just wanted to be fixed and be able to move on.

But being fixed isn't really the goal, is it? Well, it's not God's goal, but so often becomes our own, right? I mean, there is absolutely redemption on this side of life. God is growing me more into his likeness, breath by breath. Yet, whether or not I'm anxious (or angry, or short with others, or falsely believing that I am Wonder Woman), I am still invited into life with God. Which begs the question, do I want God or do I want him just for the goodies? If I'm honest, most days I just want the goodies. Some days though, I want him more. And that's hopeful.