Trouble in Egypt

Enslavement.  Unfreedom
The first text of this day is a detailed description of the impossible situation that the children of Israel were in.  They were required by the Pharoah to make bricks but he did not give them straw and then still required the same number of bricks be made.  Moses was on the scene and trying to help but no help seemed to be working.

I read this and thought about seemingly impossible situations in our world (like in Syria) and in our personal lives.  This morning I found myself thinking about a problem in our family and it felt like my mind got in a loop: deep concern, real helplessness, resentment, concern, helplessness, anxiety, concern, helplessness, guilt, concern, helplessness, .....you get the picture.  We love to make answers, resolution, solutions, problem solving and yet we can't.  We are stuck.  We can't get ourselves out of it. The best thing often is to stop thinking about it.  What can you do?

But Lent is a time of self examination and to enter into the reality of the struggles and limitations of our human condition.  Our places of enslavement and unfreedom. And so I do.  In prayer. Which means at some point I literally turn back (look up)  to the source of life.

The Psalm of today is Psalm 91 - and it contains these wonderful words:

You who live in the shelter of the Most High,
who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,
will say to the Lord,
“My refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust.” 

For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.

On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.

You will tread on the lion and the adder,
the young lion and the serpent you will trample under foot.

Those who love me, I will deliver;
I will protect those who know my name.

When they call to me, I will answer them;
I will be with them in trouble,
I will rescue them and honor them.

With long life I will satisfy them, and show them my salvation

I know what it is like to live in Egypt and feel hopeless and wondering where God is and what I am supposed to be doing?  The comfort of this story  is found in the person of Moses who God called to speak to Pharoah and begin the process that will lead them out of Egypt.  It took a long time.  

So I wait and trust in the hidden work of God in me, in others, in the situations that keep me tied up in knots.  I wish that it was easier and quicker than it is.  At the same time, I am aware that there is a call to me to BE Moses on behalf of others.  Which of course, is a daunting and uncomfortable thought.    

And through it all I believe in the power of God's spirit and the angels which provide  and protect us all. 

Ash Wednesday Thoughts

I spent some time this morning just looking at the texts of this day and wondering what would speak to me on this Ash Wednesday?  A day which I have ALWAYS liked as the start of the season of Lent.  In the past few years at Karl Road, I would love the taize service that we had and really felt like I entered into the beginning of the holy time.  I have always  liked the idea of six weeks of sacrificing something and taking on something else as a way to commit myself to deepen my faith.

Today, I know it is unlikely that I will get to a church and have the ashes imposed.  I have a meeting at noon and time with Kacey and kids in the afternoon and evening.  And so, the texts are the way I begin this season.

It is always easy to get caught up in the sin, confession, contrition language of the day.  But as I spent more and more time just reading I was caught by the R words:

• Return to the Lord your God, for he is merciful  (Joel)
• Restore to me the Joy of your salvation (Psalm 51)
• Be Reconciled to God (2 Corinthians)

Why do come to these words every year?  Because we have gone away, we lose our joy, we are estranged from God.
 How many times do we  come to prayer and realize how long it has been,?
How many times do we  fall into despair and hopelessness about the state of the world or our own lives?
 How many times do we live our lives and make decisions without considering God's   desires for us? 
There is a reason why it is good to go to church or to have "morning devotions" - to remember God's constant and abiding presence  and love and God's guidance. So for me this day is about REMEMBERING  my need of God  the reward  of a "With God" life

The Lord will guide you continually,
and satisfy your needs in parched places,
and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
like a spring of water, whose waters never fail.

Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
the restorer of streets to live in.(Isaiah 58)

 I write all this as one who really has experienced guidance from God, and God's energy and light and purpose.  As I return and am restored and reconciled.  Again and again. (not that there isn't also struggle and wilderness, but God is ultimately " gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love")

So Lent  begins again and I will give up sweets and take on writing about scripture in this blog and look for signs of life and new life.  (Small stones)  And trust that God is doing something new with me.

Even without the ashes, it feels like a good beginning.


I

Small Stones

At my "Women Writing for a Change" group last night, we were given a handout called "Small Stones." Fiona Robyn wrote a book Small Stones: A Year of Moments which she describes an observation of the small seemingly ordinary sightings that we might miss that she calls "palpable moments of carefully observed grace."

Our assignment last night was to just review our day and notice 3 of the  small stones that we had experienced that day.  And express them with a few words or sentences.  The three suggestions were
1. a small stone in nature
2. a small stone in a relationship
3. a small stone which we might have overlooked.

As usual, I always begin exercises like this with inward panic.  I won't be able to come up with anything.  But as I sat there I remembered just looking out the window yesterday and seeing the surprise of the beautiful heavy snow that suddenly was pouring out of the sky.  For a moment it was like we were in a snow globe.

My relationship "small stone" was the surprise of seeing a ham sandwich and diet coke in my car just as I was leaving for class.  Prepared thoughtfully by my husband and placed right by my side.

And the small stone that I overlooked had been how engaged I became yesterday writing for the class.  I literally lost track of time - which is such a gift.

Our assignment it to just collect one "small stone" each day this week which will be used in some way in a further exerciize at the next class. As I look ahead to the coming of Lent, I think I will use this as a Lenten project -  spending time with scriptures and looking for small stones and writing about them in this blog.  We will see what happens.

Here is what Fiona Robyn writes

"I decided to look for a small stone every day for a year....they are nothing special and something special all at once.  As time went on, I got better at remembering to notice the world around me.  Not just to notice it but to scrutinize it, engage with it, love it.  My eyes, ears, nose mouth and hands opened up."

Sometimes it's hard to be Ogram

Like when I am sitting in a gym watching a precious granddaughter play basketball.

That's not the hard part - watching any body play sports is fun!  Watching 12 years olds who are just learning is sweet  and heartwarming as they run hard and have to try 10-15 times to make a basket.   And I watched her - at times guarding her player fiercely, running up and down the court, other times  tentative and shy but  she was out there trying.

Then at one point the other team is driving  down court with the ball and I could see her freeze and  just miss the play.  She looked awkward and  miserable.  I could not hear what her coach said to her - but I could see his face and gestures which expressed disgust and blame.  At the next time out, she was out and did not return to play again.  This was her last game.

But that is not all of the morning.  I was sitting near several men who spent the entire game both "coaching" the girls from the stands and questioning almost every call that the refs were making.  They were going on and on  telling the girls to get the rebound, do a bounce pass,  put their hands up, etc. etc.  Complaining as the ref missed fouls on their team and  keeping track of how many fouls individual girls had  so they can get them out of the game.

Because I played sports as a girl I know it is competitive.  I have my own stories about being cut from a team or sitting on the bench.   I am thinking that 12 year olds are playing sports - not just for the sharpening their skills - but also for learning about how to work with a team and how to get stronger in defeats and sometimes with unfair calls or unkind people.  I understand that. However, I am really uncomfortable with the whole idea of toughening up anybody through blaming and shaming.  And that is too often what I see going on in the coaches and in the spectators.

So, this really is a rant about how what could be beautiful too often is ugly.  And an appreciation for the people who stretch themselves  to coach, to ref and to play. Even though sometimes they will make mistakes that might hurt others and lose games. They have at least put themselves "in the arena."  It all reminds me of this quote from Teddy Roosevelt.

 It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles,

 or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. 

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; 

who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming;

 but who does actually strive to do the deeds; 

who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions;

 who spends himself in a worthy cause; 

who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, 

so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

It  is hard to be Ogram when my granddaughter has put herself in the arena, stumbled and then has to sort out what to do next.
 It is hard not to give her platitudes  and my wise advice.
 But instead, she will spend the night and probably not talk about it at all.
 We will play games,  eat ice cream and watch TV.
And that may be enough for now.

On the Road Again

For the past four weeks I have been on the road preaching at different churches every Sunday.  In January I traveled to Ada, Bowling Green and Hocking Hills.  I am already booked through mid March for Ada, Lyons and Bowling Green again.  Who knew how much fun this would be for me?  And Chuck!

First of all we really enjoy the driving.  Every place we have gone has been at least an hour drive and sometimes – like Sunday  - we drove for an hour and 45 minutes to get to our destination.  We are traveling on new roads for us and just  enjoy the time together.  And afterwards there is lunch - at a NEW RESTAURANT!

The preaching is always good for me – especially the preparation and just thinking about the text for the week.  Of course, I look at old sermons and use  ideas and illustrations  from them, but I like the process of re writing and editing and most of all just pondering.  And most especially I still get those moments that are epiphanies – sometimes an image, a word, an idea, a quote that freshens the whole thing for me and makes me excited to share the message.

But finally, there is the church experience and every different church is – of course – different. The first time we went to Ada there were (including us!) 10 people in worship.  I followed their previous pastor who had been a Pentecostal minister who “trusted the spirit” to guide him in his preaching.  The week before I came he informed the church this was his last Sunday because God had told him to move on. (Coincidentally, they had scheduled a meeting with him about his sermons) Anyway, they  seemed really happy to have a sermon that is actually organized and prepared in advance.  We went out to lunch afterward with half the congregation and really like them.  I have been back to preach three more times and whenever we enter we feel welcome and loved.  Chuck went back to Ada one day to help them with their annual Peanut Brittle fundraiser and looks forward to these Sundays a lot!

This past Sunday was totally unique as I preached at three little churches in Hocking Hills.  There were six people at the first church, 11 at the second and 13 at the third.  At two of the churches there was no piano player, so I volunteered to not only preach but to play the piano.  Chuck loved meeting the people and always invites them to hug him rather than just shake hands.  I am wanting to control this  but really, everyone seemed to warm up to him.  It was a whirlwind morning but satisfying and holy  as I hear the earnest and faithful prayers of the Elders who are keeping a small church going.

Of course, people on the outside would look at these little churches and pronounce them “dying” but my experience of worship with them is that it is  alive and warm.  I don’t know how long they can keep it up – making peanut brittle is a tough way to pay your pastor.  There is no way I would want pastor and lead a congregations like this.  (I am happy to not have to worry about the budget, the building and the mission plan for the church. )

But for now  it is a blessing and a different kind of call to be on the road  to preach to these faithful communities.