Sunday, October 16, 2011

Delighting in the Little Things


I have been traveling so much lately that even my little gypsy spirit is longing for a sense of home.  In seasons like this in my life I try to remember that God brings delight in little things.  Lately for me, I have been taking great delight in flowers.  I get up and work out at 5:45am most Fridays and often do my grocery shopping at 7:00am after the gym.  Most Fridays at that time, they are clearing out their week stash of flowers making their displays ready for the weekends.  And guess what my local grocery store does with them?  Give them away!  I love it.  They almost always give me a thing of flowers with my purchases and I have come to love and look forward these bright additions to my Friday mornings.

Some of my recent flowers:

And I love that I get to use my vase.   I made this vase with two of my favorite young kids at paint your own pottery.  We surrounded it with the word love around the top and each of us made a flower with our thumbprints. 

 Love it! 

Open Eyes



I have been a bit negligent in posting my sermons from this summer! Sorry ;) Here is one for our sermon series at CTK. We are reading through the book of Nehemiah—that is in the Old Testament.  We are looking at the ways that Nehemiah lived open, allowing God to use him in mighty ways in the midst of risk to change a community. 

This sermon looks at Nehemiah 1&2 in which he is called to be apart of the restoration of Jerusalem.  The sermon is entitled “Open Eyes”

When I was a little girl I wanted glasses so badly.  I used to lie to the eye doctor. I would like to my teachers and say I couldn’t see the board so they would write a note to my parents encouraging them to take me to the doctors.  When I was in college, I even purchased fake glasses so that I would look smarter in class.  Each time I was given the same reply, you can see absolutely fine.  There is no need for glasses.  Several years later, my vision had worsened slightly and I now need glasses to see a far distance and for driving at night.  I joyfully picked out the long awaited pair knowing that I was finally going to see clearly—and look intelligent and trendy while doing it! 

Despite my obsession in my younger, and not so younger days, with physical sight and glasses, I know understand a much deeper reality to sight.  Many of us walk around each day seeing things.  We walk around aware that we are surrounded by trees and houses.  Some of us see colleagues daily, other see our kids as we drive them to and fro, others of us see never ending to-do lists—but how many of us see more than just the surface?  How often do you walk around a notice more than just the fact that a tree is there but see the deep ecology of our natural world and the overwhelming handiwork of God?  How often do look and see a people—not stories or children of God or potential—but people in our way, making us uncomfortable, challenging our way of life.  How often do we see only us and our scarcity instead of we and the abundance of God? The human answer is: Far too often. 

Far too often our eyes are seeing only the surface—and people of God—today and every day, God is calling us to look at the world with God’s eyes.  To see more than just people, trees and us and instead see God’s creative and redeeming work in the world. 

Throughout the next four weeks, as a congregation, we will be reading through the book of Nehemiah together.  Yes, it is a departure from our usual use of a lesson from each part of scripture.  Yet, Nehemiah only comes around once in our cycle of lessons and when it does, only one chapter is used.  Nehemiah holds such rich instruction for our life in community, especially our giving life.  Today, we explore how Nehemiah saw—and saw more than just his physical reality but saw God’s vision for him and his people. 

The book of Nehemiah is one that recalls the time of the Jewish people towards the end of exile.  For a variety of reasons, namely their own pride and hard heartedness, God allowed the Jewish people to be conquered by a foreign enemy and to be scattered.  They were sent far from their homeland, their buildings and temple were destroyed.  The very fabric of their life was torn apart, their earthly well-being now in the hands of bigger, bitter enemy.  Many of the Jewish people were taken and made slaves.  Nehemiah is no different. He has been separated from his people and made cup bearer to the king in the Persian province of Susa.  While serving in this role, he was visited by several men including Hananai.  Nehemiah asked about the state of Jerusalem.  The report was not good.  Things were laid bare, destroyed, beyond redemption.  Now Nehemiah hears this report with open ears and begins to see the situation with his spiritual eyes.   And he is better than most of us.  When we ask how things are going with people, we are often polite enough to listen to the answer, but not engaged enough to be bothered with it.  We nod, “sure, yes, I see.”  But do we allow the answers to such questions dwell deeper?  Do we only engage the world on the surface? 

If we are surface dwellers, our story would diverge from Nehemiah after a mere three verses.  If we are surface dwellers and see-ers, we would have quickly moved onto another topic that would make us more comfortable.  If we are surface dwellers, we would have turned off the difficult story on the news opting for a sitcom that makes us laugh and allows us to escape the harshness of deeply seeing. 

Yet, Nehemiah wasn’t a surface dweller.  He hears the report from Hanani and instead of embracing the easy of surface dwelling, he allows the news of what is happening in Jerusalem to dwell deeply.  And he takes it to God in prayer. 

Nehemiah is reminded in pray of God’s word to bring the Jewish people back together.  At this point, God’s spirit is working to open eyes and give him a vision for what is next. 

And that is what spiritual sight, deep seeing does…it gives us a vision that we can put into action.  For Nehemiah, we learn that the vision God gives him is to rebuild the city.  If we are honest, this moving to action part is why many of us don’t want to open our eyes to God in world—because God might just call us to do something.  We don’t want to hear about another teen bullied in the schools because we might just have to get involved with the bully.  We don’t want to hear about the most severe drought ever in the Horn of Africa that is leading to 3,000 people becoming refugees a day, because we might then have to examine our own family food intake and realize that we are hording.  We might just feel called to give up one dinner out a month and instead opt for leftovers so a donation can be made to ELCA disaster relief.  We don’t want to hear about our elderly population being abused because it might just move us to make space in our homes or busy schedules to care for our elderly. 

The reality is that if we are seeing the world with God’s eyes, it will be quickly followed by a vision and a call to action.  And our human nature is to trade the possible transformation for the comfort of being surface dwellers. 

Spoiler alert.  If we aren’t like Nehemiah and willing to see deeply, recognize need and allow God’s spirit to give us vision and action for a need, we will never see walls rebuilt, a city restore or people renewed as it was with Nehemiah. 

For our conversation about giving this fall, we chose the theme open.  It was deliberate because far too often we choose to close our eyes, our hands, our hearts and our wallets.  Closed living is comfortable. It requires no risk nor vision.  We don’t need to see deeply because we feel no need to be part of something more than the status quo.  Yet, when we are living open.  When we declare to God that we want to see more deeply, we are proclaiming to the world that despite the risk or the energy required, we want to be part of something greater than ourselves. 

And this is what Nehemiah does—he takes a risk—a big one that involved asking the king for protection and later for supplies because he knows that to be apart of what God is doing is what makes for a great life.  A great life is not marked by how cleanly and neatly we have protected ourselves but marked by how deeply we see the world around us, how clearly we see the spark of God in each person, how faithfully we live our God’s vision.

So where are you this morning? 

Are you sitting here thinking, “Yep. She nailed it. I have my eyes closed to the world around me, to where God could be working.”  Are you a surface dweller?  If you are in this category, you must ask God to move you.  Ask God to open your eyes.  Ask God to place you in situations that you can’t ignore the depth beyond.  But be prepared. If this becomes your prayer, God will move your heart towards something beyond yourself…yet, know as your are bold, you are not alone. 

Maybe you want to move beyond surface dwelling but have not had a Hanani moment, a moment where you have encountered someone or a message that has broken your heart like the news of Jerusalem has Nehemiah.  If this is you, make it your goal to be fully present this week.  When people share with you listen to them and engage their response.  Pray with the newspaper nearby.  Allow the stories to not merely be commentaries on the terrible condition of our world but ready each story asking God, “Where might your possibility take flight?” 

For those of you with concerns deep in your heart, don’t be afraid to begin the steps to realize the vision.  Talk to people of influence that can support you.  Inspect what needs to be done as Nehemiah did with the wall.  And continually be in conversation with God and reminded that it is not your vision but God’s.

And if you are currently living our God’s vision in an area of the world, keep at it.  God takes great delight in your faithfulness. 

So let us be a community that sees, a community that explores beyond the surface and allows the creative and redeeming work of God to work in such a way that all the world is touched by the rare, relentless love of God.   And people of God, let me tell you.  You don’t need to wait 28 years for glasses to see deeply.  God will give you all the vision you need. 

Another Weekend in Appalachia




Earlier in the month I had the privilege of traveling with members and friends of CTK to Guyan Valley, West Virginia to work on making homes warmer, safer and drier.  We worked with Appalachia Service Project (www.asphome.org).   

Our team was assigned to a house in need of a wheelchair ramp.  The father in the family has been recovering from several illnesses and is currently in rehab.  He cannot be released from rehab until the wheelchair is working.  So, we set to building the ramp.  I like to think that I was the trip’s manual labor.  Cameron, my old roommate went with, he was the brains.  Cam and another team member laid out the ramp—measuring, leveling, re-measuring.  Me? I dug holes.  We had to dig about sixteen holes to build the ramp and were able to dig them all in one day!  I did have to dig one hole that we didn’t use—we just called that my practice hole.  (I sound more chipper about this practice hole now, I didn't think it was so funny then).  The trip was an amazing experience and again, I am so thankful for the ways that God is using people to reach out and be tangible representations of God’s love in the world.

Teammates Pat and Maria cutting wood for the ramp. 


Jimmy leveling 


The ramp (note all the posts that needed holes!)

The ramp getting decking 

Our fearless leader Cameron 

We had to move the steps to the other side of the porch. 







 We wanted to make sure the ramp worked so Pat gave it a whirl.  
  

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Making Room


Over the last six weeks, I have seen my best friend only from inside the walls of her room at UNC hospital.  After a difficult start to her pregnancy, we had hoped she was turning a corner.  Yet at 24 weeks, her baby girl named Lucy began acting up.  Lucy has been up to lots of shenanigans for the last six weeks that have kept my dear friend on bed rest.  I am not sure I ever understand how fully bed rest changes life.  It doesn’t mean just slowing down, it means stop.  Stop moving, stop making yourself a priority—simply rest so that your child will grow.  And my dear friend has done this with grace. 

I have always seen pregnancy as a beautiful journey of making room.  Expectant parents make room for their new child in their home often painting and preparing a nursery.  The woman’s body makes room as it expands to accommodate the child inside.  Despite its contrary appearance, bed rest is a room making practice as well. You aren’t doing anything, how can you make room? 

I have seen my dear friend make room in her schedule which was previously packed with long days and evening meetings to simply lay around.  My dear friend has made room on her priority list.  It is no longer dominated by her career-related vocational call but her new vocational call to be a parent.  Laying in bed, my dear friend has become so aware of her daughter’s movement.  She has made room in her own feelings to feel kicks of discomfort from the inside, to feel anxious heartbeats that are ready to meet the world now. 

Perhaps most significantly, I have seen my dear friend expand her capacity to choose another above herself.  We are a selfish people.  It is human nature.  We want comfort, ease and peacefulness.  This is often achieved at the cost of sacrificing someone else so that we can experience these fully.  Yet, on this journey of bed rest, I have seen my dear friend refuse to allow her selfishness win.  She has allowed medicine into her veins that will strengthen Lucy’s growing brain while it feels like molten lava moving through her body.  She has chosen to truly lay in bed and allow others to care for her so that she might care for Lucy.  I have seen what it looks like to sacrifice in action. 

And I am inspired.  I am inspired to make room in my own ways.  Even though I am not an expectant parent, we all are part of God’s new birth in creation each day.  Each day, God is bringing about new possibility, birthing new life.  So how are we making room?  How are we allowing God’s new life to be nourished and flourish in our lives?  Are we making room in our home, our schedules, our priority lists for God’s possibility to be birthed?  Are we willing to sacrifice our own notions of success, comfort and ease for the birth of something greater than ourselves?

I know full well that bed rest isn’t all roses, in fact, it is an ongoing collection of difficult moments. Yet, in this room-making practice, my dear friend is expanding in heart, mind (and her belly).  And because of the great love of her parents and their willingness to make Lucy a priority, soon and very soon, our community will welcome a beautiful baby girl into our lives. 

May our hearts continually make room for God’s new life.
danielle kathryn

A Moment at Camp with Middle School Boys


I have to admit. I don’t like Middle School boys. I feel like they are a foreign species that I just don’t get.  You will rarely find me volunteering to spend time with them and even less often seeking out opportunities for conversation with them.  This past Saturday, I traveled out to Camp Agape to hang out with out Middle Schoolers.  In my slightly changed position at Christ the King, I now am responsible for this lovely age group.  And so I set out to get to know them better.  And the boys didn’t surprise me.  They were laughing often to the side when instructions were given, they were playing with sticks and roughhousing. 

I joined our five MS boys at camp for an activity.  We were lined up along one-side a sand volley-ball court.  The court had been filled with small balls that were imaginary landmines.  There were blindfolds and the goal was to get across without stepping on a mine.  Me and this motley crew of MS boys took to the task.  They began to work together, to help each other across.  I am sad to report that I was the only that ran one of the kids into a landmine (Sorry, Stuart!).  I even allowed one of the 6th grade boys to give me instructions across the court as I was blindfolded.  The activity continued fairly calmly and was well executed by these boys. 

After finishing the challenge, the boys gathered on picnic tables and a discussion began.  The counselor asked, “How does this resemble life?”  The boys didn’t hesitate, “You learn who you can trust and whose voice to follow.”  “Landmines are part of life, you have to have people help you navigate them.”  Then the counselor asked, “What does this have to do with our relationship with God?”  And it is here I had my moment with MS boys.  First, one of the boys compared it to Avatar. I couldn’t follow the comparison because I am not well-versed in Avatar lingo.  The boys began to excitedly agree.  The another sixth grade boy added, “It is like faith. We don’t have proof that God exists.  We just have to trust.  We have to trust that God is hoping for us to cross our path—even with landmines in the way—that is what faith it, isn’t it?” 

And so I owe an apology to all the MS boys out there.  In the midst of my doubts, you showed me that God just as active in the mind of a MS boy as in this 29-year old minister.   I am not ready to sign-up to a lead a MS retreat yet but I am certainly looking forward to more play and conversation. 

God’s love and mine,
danielle kathrym