A Letter to my Church

Matthew 25:23 

 “The master said, ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together!’

When I applied to my job at ZPC in 2008, I made a promise to my best friend that I would be there for at least one year. She was on staff and gave me the lead that eventually led to me being hired. Little did I know that one year would turn into fifteen wonderful years. Resigning my position last month to accept a new call was bittersweet to say the least. This was not a decision made lightly. Prayer, wise counsel and discernment played a critical role in helping me make the choice to move to my local Presbyterian Church and begin to serve the community in my backyard….and (pray for me y’all) work with teenagers!

I wear lots of hats at church. I coordinate volunteers, develop curriculum, encourage families, dream with my team, plan with my peers…and so on. But if I strip away all of that, what I am at my core is a teacher. The hundreds of Sundays that I’ve spent in my beloved Tree House teaching the children and sharing the good news of Jesus Christ has been my passion and the calling on my life. I’m proud of the job I’ve done. “Well done good and faithful servant” is the verse that runs on repeat in my brain right now. I’ve worked hard, loved hard and given my best for 15 years. 

It’s been a two-way street though. For as much as I’ve given, I have also received. This is the church that loved me through a painful divorce. Brought me kicking and screaming to the Great Banquet and now I totally drink that Kool aid! They have rejoiced with me and celebrated when I remarried. Gathered around me and stepped up through illness, embraced my children, brought me meals…the list is long. ZPC has always been there through the good and the bad for the last 15 years.

I don’t think my experience is unique in the church…or at least it shouldn’t be. As Christians, we are called to be the body of Christ. We are called to invest in that body and be present, willing to serve and invest in those that we worship with on Sunday morning. We live life together. I’ve been so blessed to experience this this type of love in my church. At first, my resignation felt like death and I mourned it like a death. As I approach my final two weeks on staff, I realize that it’s not death. It’s a new beginning, a new journey and opportunity to continue to advance the kingdom of God. Accepting a new position where I can grow and build and share what I’ve learned is exciting to me. It’s my next step where I still get to be “teacher” which other than “wife “and” mom” is my favorite hat to wear….my most authentic me.

I love you ZPC. Just because I won’t be on staff doesn’t mean I not invested in you, your children and your life. I will continue to be around but just as a “civilian” Christian in the community. Thank you for teaching me about agape love, the opportunity to witness service, sacrifice, laughter, tenacity in hardship, absolute joy and light! I take with me lifelong friendships, lessons learned and so much gratitude.

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Busy Season

I’m going to let you in a little secret. November 1 hits and immediately my brain shifts to “it’s busy season.” Church decorating, planning and executing events for families and visitors, truly making sure that the stocking are hung by the chimney with care. Over the years, I’ve gotten pretty good at this. The love of Christ I pray you experience when you walk through the doors is my heart’s desire. I love my church, my job, my families and ministry.  I want the best possible experience for you, especially during “busy season.” However, I have forgotten that God doesn’t want us entangled in busy. He wants us at his feet, in our hearts, living breathing deeply for Him. He showed me his splendor once again and I write this today grateful, slower, appreciative of this season and for a God who deems me worthy of sending his son.

The week before Thanksgiving I was walking my dog, Lola. I slipped and fell on wet leaves and uneven pavement. Immediately I went into “busy” mode. I didn’t have time to go to the hospital-the throbbing pain in my ankle was probably temporary right? I called my dad to lead my beloved Soul Sisters group, called work to say I might be late, and finally after ice, elevation and the calm voice of reason from my mom we went to the hospital and…broken ankle. This is NOT something I have time for right now. It’s busy season!!! BUT God came through, my volunteers came through, my children in ministry and their families came through and that Sunday went off without me while I splayed on the couch streaming services feeling like I was missing out on not being there. 

Thanksgiving comes and I’m not longer hosting which is now fine with me because my calf hurts a lot! It hurts so much that I decide it’s the boot and I will not wear it one more second because it’s causing me so much pain. I actually posted this on Facebook and a ZPCer saw it and reached out to me. I ended up at Orthoindy to have the boot looked at. God sent me an angel named Jen who told me that she suspected a blood clot and gave me stat orders to head to the ER. She was right and I was admitted to the hospital. There I witnessed a packed house! No spare rooms, all hands on deck and it was constant. Another Sunday to miss, volunteers to rally, children to hear the gospel, and ZPC had it covered! I could focus on recovery. Once I took a deep breath and switched my focus from busy to rest…I saw God and he was everywhere at that hospital. My nurses were so kind and patient, and reassuring. My CNA had attended Awakening and Great Escape as a teen. Every morning I ordered my breakfast, and the sweet lady who answered the phone would have a good laugh with me over the point of decaf coffee (there isn’t one). Taneesha took out my trash each day and shared that her grown children had finally moved out the weekend before and we spent time talking about that. I was finally allowed to “take a lap” around my floor and I witnessed the nurses layering up and putting on their precautionary gear to go into a Covid room. My doctors took so much time with me, listening and developing a game plan. I knew ZPC and so many others were praying. I truly got to experience the love of Christ during my stay and this whole experience has been nothing short of a miracle. I know the dangers of a blood clot and things could have gone a different direction. I was shown love, compassion, empathy, kindness in spite of the true busyness of the hospital and it’s never ending line of patients needing care. The day I left, there were 7 people in the ER waiting for beds. 

So, it’s no longer busy season for me. It’s the season of goodness. The season of miracles. The scripture today is from Psalm 96:1-13. 

It begins:

“Sing to the Lord a new song;
    sing to the Lord, all the earth.
Sing to the Lord, praise his name;
    proclaim his salvation day after day.

I don’t like that it took a broken ankle and a blood clot to slow me down and jog my memory this Christmas but you better believe that I’m singing to the Lord and praising his name. Over and over- he saved me, sent people to love and care for me and sent his son so that I can have eternal life with him. I’m forever changed by this experience and forever grateful. Abundant blessings to you this Christmas season…Jesus is coming.

Prayer: Father God, I sing your praise for you are good. I ask for you to show me the slow in this day so that I can give you the glory. Amen

Activity: 10 deeps breaths- Breath in and think “more of you God” and when you breath out think “less of me.” Rid yourself of worldly things and breath in the everlasting life of God. Do this throughout the day! It’s a great habit! 

Joy? Peace? Hope?

John 1:29″ The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”

Parenting at every stage presents its own highs and lows. Yay! Little Prince is walking…Yikes! We need to baby proof everything. I have always appreciated each stage and embraced that I will have successes and failures in each of those stages….until now. My boys are 15, 16 and a week shy of 19. They are on a hybrid schedule for school (my oldest is home from college until January) and these kids can suck my life force like nothing I have ever experienced in my life.

Last night, I prepared a family dinner and you would have thought I was asking they to lay down in the street so I could run them over with my car. My attempt at a lovely meal around our table so beautifully decorated for Christmas…hopeful that we could talk about our highs and lows of the day, the Advent season, smiling at each other lovingly was an epic failure. They complained, they fought, they were jerks. My joy at having the family around the table together slowly began to seep out of my body. As I looked around at each of these people that I GAVE BIRTH TO and then stared helplessly at my husband, I had this deep sadness. Who are these people? Where did they come from and what are they doing in my house? It’s ADVENT and we will be HAPPY!

As I prayed about this last night and again this morning (and in full disclosure there were tears) I realized that my joy in the coming of our Savior this season can happen simultaneously with the struggles of parenthood. It doesn’t diminish the Christmas story. This week we light the candle of peace for week 2 of Advent and my prayer is that even in the midst of total chaos, I remember that Jesus will still be returning in the form of a baby…God’s son. Shaping my thoughts in this way does help me cope with the less glamorous parts of parenting of which there seem to be many during the teenage years. With all the change and uncertainty 2020 has brought (fear, isolation, and struggle for so many) this doesn’t change fact. The fact is that God sent his son to live among up. A savior for all the world to see and acknowledge. There is joy and peace and hope in all of this.

I may need a break from family dinner for a hot minute. Kids will still be jerks sometimes, that’s life. Dealing with this is much easier knowing that Christmas is coming, Jesus is coming, our hope… Emmanuel.

Lessons from my Grandma

My grandma always said “growing old isn’t for sissies.” As a child, I didn’t give much thought to that statement. As I grew up, I thought maybe she was referring to laugh lines, or the need to color the gray hair that started to pop (God forbid). Or maybe she was referring to the need for reading glasses or “peepers” as she fondly referred to them.

I grew up in Indiana and my grandparents lived in a suburb of Chicago. I was fortunate enough to be able to spend a week at their home every summer by myself…no siblings…just me! It was such a special time and I look back on it with such wonderful feelings of love for my grandparents. My grandma and I would shop, visit my great-grandparents, and play a lot of Gin Rummy. Through the years, I would hear her utter “growing old isn’t for sissies” and shrug it off and move on to the next thing. Now in my 40’s, I look back and think my grandma was so smart and dolling out words of wisdom like King Solomon!

The older I get, I start to understand that grandma wasn’t just referring to the pesky annoyances of physical beauty. Although, in full disclosure, I’m quick to have my roots done, just had my first experience with microblading for my thinning eyebrows (OUCH and yes, that will be another post), and am indeed, typing this wearing glasses that are now, regularly, close at hand. I’m beginning to understand that as I age, time has started to speed up. There are aches and pains I didn’t have before, my children are growing up at a pace much faster than I would like and the days turn to weeks turn to years in the blink of an eye. I now realize that you have to be tough to grow old. It’s not for the faint of heart! I have such respect and admiration for those who have walked this earth longer than I have. I’m no longer the school girl casually listening while waiting for something else to come along. I am upright and standing at attention. What can I learn from you? What words do you impart on me to make this journey in life matter? No! It is NOT for sissies!! It is hard and unfair at times and also wonderful and beautiful.

My grandma is no longer here. She is in Heaven watching over me. I would give a lot to have one more day with her and ask her to share her wisdom with me. I would sit at her feet and listen with such close attention. I would be present and acutely aware of the moments that we share. I would be intentional and not take a second for granted. And that’s her lesson to me…her final gift in all of this. Slow down. Be present. Laugh with your children. Enjoy your husband, family and friends. Growing old isn’t for sissies, so go for it! The gray hair is going to pop and the eyesight is going to fade. Love who you are now, today, in this very moment and enjoy every second.