Christmas Rush

On December 11, 2007, I had a minor panic attack. At some point that day someone mentioned this heart-stopping fact: "Two weeks today is Christmas Day!" They said it with a smile on their face - how COULD they - I was no where near ready...in fact not ready at ALL!

Of course, I knew Christmas was close, but when I heard that stark truth, that in 14 days Christmas Day was happening reality came crashing in on me. You see, two weeks before Christmas and I had not one Christmas present purchased, not one Christmas cookie baked, not one Christmas card written. I had been rushing to put Christmas decorations up, but RUSHING is the key word.

My husband Steve, try as he might to be supportive, was quite frankly....well...no help at all. He said things like, "Don't worry about it, we'll get everything done." (Oh REALLY?) He also said, "You know, you don't have to put every Christmas decoration up." (Blasphemer!) and "We don't need the cookies, we're trying to lose weight." (I know, but some things just mean Christmas!)

You see, Christmas holds such a special place in my heart and life. Of course, because of the birth of God's Son, our Messiah, God's heart wrapped in flesh. But on another level, Christmas has always been a very special time of the year. My mother transformed our home into a veritable winter wonderland. A tree laden with ornaments - each one holding a special memory of our lives. Electric candles in the window glowing with the orange glow of light bulbs. My father outlined the entire house in large multi-colored strings of light.

Each year he lugged the train platform upstairs from our garage. Two 4 foot by 8 foot homasote boards, having painted it all grass green, with white roads and sidewalks. He had also drilled holes and from underneath had wired strings of small lights (the kind of lights we often use on trees today, but in the 1960's they were screw-in bulbs). Over each light, one by one, we placed an entire Plasticville Village that my mother had meticulously glued, painted in great detail and hundreds of trees and bushes made from dried moss.

Plasticville people were everywhere and a wonderful train track that ran 2 trains, with whistling engines -- and a little red caboose bringing up the rear. My dad taught me to wave at the man in the caboose as it went by (my dad had at one time worked on the railroad - he knew what was what!). As we grew older, my brother and I sat for hours on end, running the train through town, making deliveries and imagining a whole town coming to life before our very eyes (when kids' didn't have so many electronic gadgets, we honed our vivid imaginations.)

And every Christmas Eve, I remember the magic of lying awake in bed, waiting in anticipation of the morning's treasure trove of gifts under the tree -- and living out the lyrics of that classic carol, The Christmas Song,...Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow...Will find it hard to sleep tonight... They know that Santa's on his way - He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh...And every mother's child is gonna spy...To see if reindeer really know how to fly.

So you see, all the things I do at Christmas - all the decorations, the cookies, the gifts - brings to life memories of Christmases past- when life was simpler, all was well with the world and for a season of time, the air held magic. Maybe my frantic efforts of keeping familiar traditions alive in my home has something to do with this -- "Christmas is the keeping-place for memories of our innocence."-- Joan Mills

By the way - 99% of my decorations have found a home...most of the gifts are purchased...no Christmas cookies yet and I may start a new tradition this year -- New Year's cards! And I'm reminded of a quote from one of my favorite Christmas T.V. specials - How the Grinch Stole Christmas, when the Grinch says, "It came without ribbons, It came without tags, It came without packages, boxes, or bags. Christmas can't be bought from a store... Maybe Christmas means a little bit more." -- Dr.Seuss"

As you gather round your Christmas trees this year and the dinner tables with family....as you thank God for entering this world in the mess of this world to lift us out of our mess, take a moment as well thank God for the traditions of Christmas. In a world that is changing so rapidly, our family traditions help anchor us to deeper values....of deepening relationship with God, family and friends...and of God's hope, love, joy and peace found wrapped in the swaddling cloths of the manger.

MERRY CHRISTMAS,

Michelle

Giving Thanks

It seems almost inevitable at this time of year to list the things for which we would give thanks. I give thanks to God for some much needed rest this weekend - time spent with our family, as well as, spending some time continuing the task of organizing ourselves in our new home. I'm thankful for our health, our home, the food we can afford to put on our table and the opportunity to be in ministry with the good folks of Christ Church here in Erie. There are many things I'm thankful for - too many to list here, if I really spent some time listing them out in any detail.

One of the things I most like about Thanksgiving - besides the food of course - is the time to slow down, sit still, relax and watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Let me go on record as saying I do not generally enjoy parades at all. And the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is not the most spectacular parade. However, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is a treasured tradition from my childhood, and honestly, it would seem a little less like Thanksgiving if I didn't watch a goodly portion of it.

When I was a child, we slept in since we had no school, but my mother would always rouse us by 9:00 a.m. to watch the start of the parade on television. I remember anxiously watching for the balloons - Underdog, Popeye, Bullwinkle & Rocky the Flying Squirrel - among others, but those were always my favorites. I love watching and singing along to the Broadway musical songs that various groups would perform - some of them the actors from Broadway. And what would the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade be without the Radio City Hall Rockettes! Perfectly manicured, long-legged dancers who synchronize their movements with mesmerizing perfection! And for the grand finale, ending the parade and beginning the Christmas Season - Santa Clause! Wow - you can't get better than all that!

I can remember in the first few years of our marriage, I insisted on watching the parade. And if I would leave the room for any reason, Steve would often change the channel. When I came back into the room, I'd ask him, "Where's the parade?" His answer was often something like this - you weren't in the room, and it's only a parade. Only a parade! It's the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade! Just a parade - I don't think so!

I don't know what it is - but I love the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. And every year when I watch it, I go back a little in time each year, to when I was a child, sleepily emerging from my warm covers to the smell of turkey baking in the oven, our whole family gathered together at home, cuddled on the couch under one of the many afghans my mother crocheted, waiting for Santa Clause to appear in his magical sleigh. Maybe by watching it now, maybe life seems a little simpler for a few hours and all is right with the world.

I hope your Thanksgiving conjures up memories of simpler times and for a day or two, maybe, just maybe, you can enjoy simple living of being with your family, enjoying each other's company, good food and the abundance of God.

By God's Grace,

Michelle

A Tribute to My Father

Yesterday was Veteran's Day and I thought a lot about my father - Elmer Clayton Stewart. He died in 1994, at the age of 71. He grew up poor through the Great Depression. His mother died from tuberculosis when he was only 12-years-old, something which devastated him. Two years later, his brother - who was his best friend - died of the same disease. And he fought in World War 2, Army Infantry, 99th Division, 395th Battalion, Company L - he saw hard battle, especially during the Battle of the Bulge.

If you know anything about the Battle of the Bulge, it was a hard fought battle during the winter of 1944 primarily in the Ardennes Mountains of Germany. When the Allied forces won this battle, it was a turning point in ending World War 2. Now, I'm not an advocate of war, but I'm not a pure pacifist, either. I mostly ascribe to the Just War Theory. (To read more about Just War Theory - check this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Just_war).

I'd never say I'm in favor of war. But I'm very proud of my father's service to his country. I'm proud that my father selflessly sacrificed much to protect the world from a very clear and present danger. My father enlisted as a 19-year-old. He married my mother when he was 20 (she was 18) - 2 teenagers (basically) who started life apart for most of the first 3 years of their marriage. They were married on May 18, 1943. By the time he shipped out for Europe, my mother was pregnant with my sister. He left her behind not knowing if he'd ever see her again or ever see his unborn child. And unlike today, there were no emails to stay in touch with families.

My mother went for nearly 2 years not hearing much from my father - not knowing if he was dead or alive. He was in the battlefield, enduring one of the bloodiest battles of World War 2 - wounded twice and spending time in an England Hospital before returning home - mostly for battle fatigue. It was called shell shock in World War 1 and now called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. In World War 2 there was little treatment - just R & R -- Rest and Relaxation in a hospital ward while supposedly with time his mind and emotions healed.

My father never spoke much of his service - partly because he was a private man and partly because he couldn't bear the pain he had buried. Besides the horrors on the battlefield, part of the duty of his unit was to liberate P.O.W. camps - a horrendous task, considering how badly these prisoners of war had been tortured and starved. My father sacrificed much for the safety of the world. It changed who he was - I am firmly convinced that my father suffered for the rest of his life from that war. He wasn't diagnosed, but I suspect he struggled with depression. He drank too much - I think to numb the pain.

And while he suffered from what he had endured, I never heard my father whine or complain about what he had endured. He didn't blame the president or the government or even the Germans. He did what he felt was necessary at a time when the world was under attack. He flew the American flag in our front yard. I'm proud of my father.

I don't know if I ever told him, though. I don't remember ever thanking him for being brave. It wasn't easy to talk to about things like that with my dad. He would have thought that was too "mushy." He only said, "I love you," to me one time - but I knew always that he did love me. I only saw him cry one time - when he thought my mother was dying from peritonitis. I was 12-years-old at the time - the same age he was when his mother died. He never said so, but now I wonder if that was going through his mind - but he would never say.

I miss my father very much. And while I don't think I could have expressed to him my pride in his service to his country or thank him for being brave or struggling to keep it together for his family - I hope now he knows. And by the way - Tom Brokaw is right - they are the Greatest Generation.

By God's Grace,
Michelle

It's Here!

This morning I woke up to the first winter storm of the season here in Erie. Since we've moved here in July, everyone has said, "You've never seen an Erie winter. Just you wait!" So here we are, the beginning of winter weather here in beautiful Erie, Pennsylvania!

It started last yesterday. Rainy, dreary, cold, windy -- then the hail storm yesterday afternoon. And this morning - everything was white with snow - and it was cold and windy. Okay, it wasn't as bad as this picture - this was sent to me by a friend when he heard of my appointment to Christ Church titled, "Ministry in Erie." (Thanks, Keith!)

Our dogs, 2 miniature dachshunds, were NOT very happy about having to brave the wind whipping their long ears, slogging through the wet snow and slush - especially since they are so very low to the ground!


I was not very happy about slogging through the slush, either - and the wind whipping wet snow in my face wasn't very pleasant. And I had made several appointments to visit folks this afternoon, which meant I would be driving on this delightful day!

I must confess - it was a much more tempting thought to stay in the house, wrap up in a warm afghan with a cup of hot tea, and intermittently read, nap and watch the snow swirl around the window. I'm sure it would have been much more beautiful from that vantage point.

Right now we're under a "Lake Effect Snow Advisory" until 9 a.m. tomorrow morning. The wind is whipping wildly, the sleet is pelting the window and just think - there's more of this to come! Ah, well - all part of the bliss of living in Western Pennsylvania - which honestly, I would not trade for anything in the world.

So I invite you to pull up a chair, grab a hot cup of tea (or coffee, hot chocolate or cider), and ponder these words, one of my favorite poems, that I fell in love with as a child, with woods in my own backyard:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost (1923)
Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Give thanks to God for every day - even winters in Erie!

By God's Grace,

Michelle

Birthday Blessings

Yesterday was my birthday and this entire week has been a blessing. On Wednesday, the staff at Christ Church threw me a surprise brunch. They even got my husband Steve in on it. Although, poor guy, he doesn't lie very well -- which is good, but not when you're in on a surprise party. Then the next day, both Thursday Bible study groups surprised me with a cake. Then there were the many cards and emails from folks at Christ Church wishing me a happy birthday. Cards came from friends in the mail. My son Craig even remembered to call from Greensburg! (I love him, but he sometimes forgets or needs a reminder).

This is the first birthday in a long time that so many people remembered my birthday. What a blessing to be cared for by so many people. I've only been here at Christ Church for 4 months, but feel so comfortable and at home. It was so good to sit around the table with our staff and just talk, laugh and eat together. Usually we gather round that table for staff meetings, but how wonderful it was to simply gather round for fellowship.

Jesus often "sat at table" with people. In fact he got in trouble for hanging out with drunks & gluttons. There's something about sitting down to share a meal and conversation. You grow closer to people. That's why it's so important for families to sit down together for meals. You get to let your hair down and be yourself, no pressure to get any "business" done, just get to know each other better and to connect in relationship with one another outside of our "official" relationships. What a joy!

So I'm grateful to God for the day of my birth and for the many people who have been and are a part of my life. I'm very grateful that God has put me in such a great church as Christ Church. IHow much fun it is, and how vital, to break bread together.

By God's Grace,

Michelle

Rhythms of Nature

I know, I know, it's been a while since I've blogged. I wish I didn't sing the same song again and again, but I have indeed been very busy. Last week I spent a few days at Olmsted Manor with a group of other U. M. clergy who are part of a 3-year Pastor's Stewardship Academy. We're in the beginning of our third and final year. By the way, if you're not aware of this gem we have here in Western PA, part of our Western PA Conference in The United Methodist Church - here's a link: Welcome to Olmsted Manor .

I carpooled with a colleague and friend of mine. As we set out on our 2 hour journey to Olmsted Manor, his father was with us - he was dropping his father off, back to his home. As we drove the country roads to this man's home, he talked a lot about what was going on around us, most of it doing with the rhythms of nature. Since he's been a farmer all of his life, he knew these rhythms well.

He talked about seeing a male turkey strutting in a field with a flock of female turkeys and said, "That's unusual to see a turkey strutting with the hens this time of year." Or as he talked about hunting, he spoke of knowing when to find certain kinds of animals, where they hid, how they could be spotted and flushing them out into the open. He spoke of seeing the same turkey in the same spot over the course of several seasons - no one could get him, seems as though he had figured out what were real hens and what were hunters' calls. He also spoke about the fields of various crops, how he was in the process of clearing the last plants, finding a few butternut squashes he had missed in the last crop of the field. He spoke of the different kinds of wheat and beans, how the weather this year had been good or bad for those crops.

As he continued speaking, I watched out the windows at the empty fields, the beautiful flashes of brilliant fall leaves on the trees, and flocks of turkeys and even seagulls in the fields, my heart began yearning for the ability to know the rhythms of nature as he does.

For the most part, my days are not often predictable. There are those certain things I can depend on - the meetings on Monday's, staff meetings on Wednesday's, Bible study and hospital visits on Thursday, etc. Despite this, I find it difficult to maintain a rhythm to my life. I'm not talking about the usual unexpected interruptions that come with pastoral ministry - the crisis in a person's life, a death, a drop-by visit with the words, "Can I talk with you pastor?" I'm talking about a certain rhythm and balance to my days and life.

I struggle to find time each day for work, rest and play. Well, that's not exactly right - I find PLENTY of time every day that I devote to work. And while I love my work in ministry, I also love spending time with my family, I love pursuing my hobbies, and I love enjoying time with my friends. Why is it I can't find the balance of prayer, meditation, sabbath rest, work, fun, family and friends. Why is it so difficult to do what I know I need?

When I get out of balance - mostly because my schedule is too full of work and too little sabbath - I know it. When I get out of balance I begin to resent the time I spend with work, I begin to resent the Church, I sometimes even begin to resent God's call in my life. None of this is healthy. I know it, God knows it, and yet from time to time I find myself caught in an unending treadmill of work.

I imagine it's not much different for you if you work in industry, education, health care, or any other field. We often think that the things that tempt us are awful things and we'll recognize them coming a mile away. Remember - the object that tempted the first humans was a juicy, delicious piece of fruit. The things that often tempt us are appealing - who would say that tending to the spiritual needs of people or being a strong leader for the church is a bad thing? Some might even say that sacrificing your own needs is a noble thing.

Except.....God said, "Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy." (Exodus 20.8). The problem is that we forget the Sabbath day and then we profane this day that God has set aside for our benefit and to God's glory. Marva Dawn in her book Keeping the Sabbath Holy, writes of how the Sabbath day is there for us to 'cease and desist' not just from our work but also from all those things in our life that we pursue out of a need to be productive and in control of our lives. She writes, that in remembering the Sabbath and keeping it holy, "we will recognize the great healing that can take place in our lives when we get into the rhythm of setting aside every seventh day all of our efforts to provide for ourselves and make our way in the world. A great benefit of Sabbath keeping is that we learn to let God take care of us -- not by becoming passive and lazy, but in the freedom of giving up our feeble attempts to be God in our own lives."


Yearning for rhythm and balance - I truly believe my yearning for rhythm and balance is God's prevenient grace at work in my heart, calling me to remember Sabbath and keep it holy. God's prevenient grace reminding me that I need Sabbath and God's Spirit stirs mine to yearning. Here's a poem I found on line, written by John David Walt. Read it and consider what it means in your life:

Rest in Rest

Holy Leisure

Airtight Time

Sabbath

Creation slowing

Eyes open

Ears hearing

Sabbath

Sacred rhythms

guiltless feasting

Heaven hugging

Sabbath

Nothing doing

Nowhere going

Work unknowing

Sabbath

By God's Grace,

Michelle

Liberating Grace

Our Bishop, Tom Bickerton, is spending time on each of the districts in our Annual Conference. He was with us on the Erie-Meadville District this past Thursday. In general, he spoke about doing those things as a church that will choose life rather than death. One of the things he said pierced my heart. It pierced my heart, because it was a reminder that I needed.

As our Bishop spoke of the church, he said something to this effect: It's not about you. Clergy come and clergy go. Laity come and laity go. The church lives on. The church has been here for thousands of years and will be here long after we come and go.

Those words moved me to tears, because they were very liberating words. For any of us who are conscientious about ministry - for any of us who care about the ministries we are engaged in - for any of us who are concerned about the health of the church --- the truth is that we work very hard so that things go well in the church. Because we care so much and work so hard, we can get to a point where we think it's all up to us; then we work harder and harder thinking that if we make one little mistake, the whole thing comes down like a house of cards -- or -- we think that if we don't do it, it won't get done or done well.

The truth is that we ought to do our best and work hard at what we do - but it's not about us. We serve and are members of our churches, but they are NOT our churches. They are God's churches, and since God is always in control, we can relax a little from our labors from time to time. Since God is always in control, that means that we can freely take time to rest, time to play, time to sleep, time to enjoy the fullness of this life that God has graced us with.

With that in mind, I spent a lot more time with my family this weekend and doing some things that simply needed done in our home. Today, for instance, I spent some time weeding out the garden area in the backyard of the parsonage today. Since we moved here in July, a little late for planting season, we've not done much with the area. We haven't done much -- but that hasn't stopped things from happening -- weeds! Lots of them and in 3 months, they've gotten pretty big.

Well, today I plunged in -- in an hour or so I cleared out about 3/4 of the weeds. It's very therapeutic to r-i-p weeds out by the roots (especially if you're frustrated!). At the end of my efforts, something was accomplished. It reminded me of why I need to keep my hobbies of sewing, quilting and needlework going - my efforts achieve measurable results in a fairly reasonable time period.

I know I'm not receiving enough Sabbath rest when I lay my head on the pillow at night with the work of the church on my mind and when I wake up the next morning, my first thought are all the things I need to do that day --- that's been happening a lot lately.

This weekend I made a deliberate effort to turn it all off and not think about all the things of the church. It's very liberating to know it's not all about me -- it's about God. God's grace at work in a "garden" full of weeds - a place where I was able to vent my frustrations, accomplish a much needed task and shut off my brain from thinking about all the "to-do" lists. So tonight I'll lay my head on the pillow, ready for rest and know that God is taking care of the church.

By God's Grace,
Michelle

Humble Pie

We preachers need to listen more to our own words. I've always preached the importance of self care. If we who care for the needs of others, do not care for our own needs, we will not be able to care well for anyone. I've always tried to teach others the importance of self care - that it's not selfish to put time for ourselves on our "to do" list.

This past week was "one of those weeks." Some of the week was made of those out of the ordinary things - that happens sometimes in ministry. But for the most part, the things scheduled into my week were of my own doing. Good things - connectional, relational things - things that were part of my effort to build relationship with the people of Christ Church and the community -- in addition to the usual things I do every week in ministry - sermon prep, Bible study, visitation, counseling, staff meetings, etc.

I guess it started 2 weeks ago, when I had my first wedding in Christ Church. What that means is that between September 16 and September 29, I did not have a day off. Fourteen days with no real "down time." I had a little last Sunday when my husband Steve insisted that we go to Chautauqua Institution for the quilt show and he whisked me away after church. But let's face it - Sunday for preachers is NOT a day off, nor our sabbath rest time.

Yesterday was my first real day off in 2 full weeks. Yesterday, I arranged to meet our daughter during her lunch break from work so that we could have lunch together - just the two of us. As I was driving there, I passed Niagara Village Senior Community Center on Zuck Road and it hit me. I had forgotten to go there Thursday at 4 p.m. to lead the worship service that I had agreed to lead. My heart dropped - I felt terrible. How could I have forgotten? It was on my calendar - I was simply on overload and when I came home from hospital visits it never entered my mind to go there. I'll need to call and apologize, and I'm sure they'll understand, but I HATE to miss something - it feels like failure. And, I'll have to eat a little humble pie, because I've been teasing a staff member about missing a meeting earlier this month, even though it was in their planner.

Now, I know the truth - I'm only human and it was one of those things. I know God forgives me and the staff at Niagara Village will most likely forgive me, too. But the question now remains - will I be able to forgive myself?

As followers of Christ, we know our sins are forgiven and most of us try to obey what Jesus taught - to forgive others as we have been forgiven. Why is it we find that we have the hardest time forgiving ourselves? Why is it that we fail to realize that God wants us to forgive ourselves as God has forgiven us - completely and freely. Why do we find it so hard to include ourselves in that list of those whom we need to forgive?

This little incident reminds me that I ought to "practice what I preach." So today I enjoyed a lot more free time. There were things I "should" have been doing - work for the church that I know needs done and that I don't want to get too far behind on. But instead, today I spent some time unpacking some more boxes and settling into our new home - things I'd been putting off because I have been "too busy" for that - and a little resentful that the time's not been there. I took a deep breath and relaxed a bit today. And I took a look at my calendar - a long, hard look and scheduled spaces where there's some "me" time -- some time when I set aside all the things I have "to do" and find spaces where I can just be, in order to refresh my mind, body and spirit.

So, if you know someone who's not taking care of themselves - don't be afraid to "butt in" and remind them that God wants them to care for themselves as well as they care for others. Don't think you'll be butting into their business if you remind them to take some time for themselves -- those of us who need it, will welcome the reminder.

By God's Grace,
Michelle

The Least, The Last, The Lost

What a busy week this has been! (haven't I sung that tune before on this blog?) It was busy with some "extra" things. One of the extra things was a tour of the Erie United Methodist Alliance for new pastor's in the Erie-Meadville District.

I've heard of the "Erie Alliance" for at least a dozen years. If you had asked me what they did before Tuesday of this past week, I would've said, "They help the poor." And the truth is that they do help the poor, but that's too broad a statement for the ministries in which our Erie U.M. Alliance is engaged.

They help a variety of categories of people who happen to be poor and in a variety of ways. They help homeless veterans at Liberty House. We met and toured Liberty House with Devin, the supervisor of the house. In the paraphrased words of Devin, "These men need help with clothes, food, housing and jobs, but more than anything they need to be made whole from the inside out. That's God's work and we're here to help that happen. God is in this thing."

Another category of people are the underemployed, or the working poor. Those who have a job or jobs, but work at such a low rate of pay, they can't provide like they need or want to for their families. They provide temporary housing and emergency shelter for families. In fact, The Refuge is the only emergency shelter in Erie County who will allow single fathers with children to remain together - other shelters make the fathers separate from their children, even if the father is the only parent to care for them.

There is work with those who are homeless and living on the streets. The stories of God's grace at work through the labors of the Erie U.M. Alliance to help bring wholeness into the lives of the homeless and the poor brought me to tears. The point is - by God's grace and the willingness of people to engage with those whom the world would throw away means that lives are being changed.

I'm always fascinated that when things keep coming at me in various ways. My visit to the ministries of the Erie U.M. Alliance coincides with a website our pastoral assistant Roger pointed out to me. A website by a local business owner here in Erie. One of his blog entries is his concern with those who loiter around their building "up to no good, urinating on our building and in Griswold Park, attempting to rummage through the cars in our parking lots, etc." The picture he shows may be homeless men or perhaps just those who are unemployed. The blog asks for help for this problem.

I understand his dilemma, I really do. I do not think anyone should be allowed to break the law by being "up to no good," urinating in public, or rummaging in cars not their own." I understand that the view is probably not good for business. I guess my concern is not his cry for help, rather the comments of response to his blog. The responses include sarcasm, blame of the persons and the government for "allowing people not to work and get free benefits," and suggestions like "move out the free meals for parasites and problems like this will leave with them." One entry gives a few suggestions and the results, one of which is "you would not have to look at these people during your day."

Not having to "look at these people" would certainly make our lives easier. I don't offer any easy solution - because there are none. And the feeding programs in the city and providing temporary housing does not solve all real problems in people's lives. And the truth is that there are a portion of people who are homeless who do not want help -- or those who are underemployed are in family cycle of dependence on agency help.

I guess what troubles me most about the negative posts that I read was the quick tendency to not see these people as children of God. The blame and judgmental tone of some of the posts was troubling because there was no ability or willingness to see Jesus in these people.

I remember a story our son Craig told us about a man who lives in Oakland - Craig met him while in college a few years ago. I've forgotten his name, but he can always be seen on the streets of Oakland in front of the stores with a cup held out for donations. He's not homeless - he lives in an apartment, which I'm sure is substandard housing. He has no job, although it appears he can work. For whatever reason(s) this man has learned to make his living on the hand-outs of others.

Craig told us that every time he passed him, he would offer to take him for a meal, and talked with him a while. When Craig told us this, my motherly response was, "You do what? Is that safe?" I admit, not a very Christ-like response, but in all honesty, a concerned mother's response. Craig said to me, "Mom, he's not dangerous. And I wouldn't give him money because I'm pretty sure he'd get drunk on it. So I give him a meal - that way I know he gets to eat."

It's not easy to look upon those who are unclean, unkempt and maybe some who are a little unsavory. And there's some truth that there are those who don't want help or have become co-dependent on social agencies or the church. But we'll never have the opportunity to be a part of God's transformational power if we ignore them or push them out of the area so we don't have to look at them.

In our annual conference, we are struggling to deal with poverty. The Poverty Strategy Team, formed as part of our Believe Again! Plan for Ministry, has scheduled 3 Poverty Simulations in Western PA. The first will be Nov. 4 from 3-6 p.m. at South Avenue UMC in Wilkinsburg. The simulations are 2 hours long, followed by a talk-back session, a light meal and a brief worship. There are 2 other simulations planned - March 1, 2008 in Meadville and April 13, 2008 in Indiana. You can read more about the project here: http://www.wpaumc-files.org/Interlink%20Archives/2007-09-28interlink.pdf

Oh, and by the way - God's grace is longing to change those whose hearts are hardened and those who sound judgmental and harsh - let's not write them off, either!

By God's Grace,
Michelle

Even Though...

Well, it has been far too long since I have "blogged." It has been a whirlwind of activity in the Wobrak Family. For the past few weeks we've been immersed in wedding plans. We have a new family member whom we love dearly - our daughter-in-law Meghan. She and our son Craig married on September 1, 2007. What a beautiful day, filled with joy and music and good food and blessings all around. However - I must share that the joy of that day was preceded by a deep sorrow with the death of Meghan's father 4 days before the wedding. His service of death and resurrection was held Friday morning...18 hours before their wedding.

Michael has been ill for 22 years, having been diagnosed with an inoperable malignant brain tumor when Meghan was 3 weeks old. His health has progressively declined over the past 22 years. Michael was a tremendously gifted poet, author, director of plays, English teacher (beloved by all of his students)and greatly loved by his family. In our son's words, "Michael was a good man." As his pastor said at his funeral, "How incredibly frustrating it must have been for Michael to have such a torrent of creativity and ability funneled into a smaller and smaller opening."

As we stayed in touch with Craig in the 2 weeks before Michael's death, mostly via text messages on our cell phones and some phone calls, my heart was aching for this young man who will in part always be "my baby boy." Each brief text message keeping us apprised of Michael's ever-loosening grip on life made me want to run to Greensburg and gather up Craig in my arms and comfort him. As I watched him at the funeral, sitting where he belonged, next to his wife-to-be in the front row, my heart was breaking.

My heart was breaking for Meghan's mother, a woman who has for all but the first 4 years of their marriage, watched the steady decline of her husband, caring for him with unbelievable patience and strength. My heart was breaking for Meghan, a lovely young woman who had only known her father when he was ill. Now, for one of the most important and life-changing days of her life, he would not be with her in the traditional way to walk his little girl down the aisle. And my heart was breaking for my son, grown to be a man, sitting in the front row of a funeral for his future-father-in-law on the day before his wedding. It took every bit of my strength to not run up front and take his hand, hold it like I used to do to make sure he would safely cross the street. But I couldn't...I couldn't protect him from this. He had to walk through this shadowed valley without "his mommy" holding his hand.

One of my colleagues officiated at the funeral. John was my District Superintendent in my first full-time appointment out of seminary. John always spoke words of wisdom to me and helped me grow in tremendous ways under his leadership. I was comforted knowing that he not only knew the O'Halloran family but also our family. As he spoke beautiful words of God's grace, the peace in my heart grew. But the most evident moment of God's grace was when John spoke these words. "Let's not forget there's a wedding tomorrow. Whenever I visited Michael's room, your (Craig's & Meghan's) pictures were in his room. He glowed when he spoke about you. Meghan, he always mourned the fact that he could not be the father to you he wanted to be and that he felt you deserved. I used to say that people would hang on to make it through an event like tomorrow. I need to revise that. I believe Michael let go, handing you off to Craig, knowing you were in good hands. His gift to you all is that he is released from his suffering. You are doing the right thing going through with this wedding. He would be the last person to hold you back one more time. You're doing the right thing." He then looked at Craig and said, "So, Craig, the pressure's on, buddy." Everyone laughed and Craig answered, "I know it is!" And my broken heart began to mend.

We left that worship service (yes, we worshiped God in that service), celebrating the life of Michael O'Halloran, and by God's grace were filled with peace, released from our sorrow to enter into the next day with rejoicing. Remember what the psalmist prays - "Yea, even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." (Psalm 23:4, KJV) Even though...words of grace...words of faith...even though.

That's what faith in God means -- even though. Even though...You are with me. Even though...You give me comfort. Even though...You remove the fear. Even though...You guide me through the darkness to the light of your eternal grace. Even though.

A member of Christ Church loaned me a book today, knowing I am teaching a class on the Psalms. The book is "Psalms/Now" by Leslie F. Brandt. Listen to how the author paraphrases Psalm 23:
The Lord is my constant companion. There is no need that he cannot fulfill.
Whether his course for me points to the mountaintops of glorious ecstasy or to the valleys of human suffering,he is by my side, he is ever present with me. He is close beside me when I tread the dark streets of danger, and even when I flirt with death itself, he will not leave me. When the pain is severe, he is near to comfort.
When the burden is heavy, he is there to lean upon. When depression darkens my soul, he touches me with eternal joy. When I feel empty and alone, he fills the aching vacuum with his power. My security is God's promise to be near me always,
and in the knowledge that God will never let me go.

Amen and Amen!

By God's Grace,
Michelle

Time Keeps On Slippin'...

Well! It has been 2 weeks since I've last posted. Why? Well ya shoulda seen last week! Just a whole lot happened that made for - shall we say - a very "interesting" week. Some of it the usual ups and downs of life - both personally and in church life. Some of it highly unusual - those "middle-of-the-night phone calls" kind of events. You know the ones I'm talking about - the phone calls that change life in a heartbeat.

Part of what happened to me last week is that I came to a realization that yes, it really is only 3 weeks until our son Craig's wedding (2 weeks as I write this). WHAT?!?!?!?! How did that happen? Okay, okay, what with moving to a new home, officiating at an out-of-town wedding, spending a week teaching at Jumonville Retreat Center, acclimating to a new home, new church and new community - maybe, just maybe I've been a little preoccupied with other things.

But on a deeper level - how did it happen? How did my "baby boy" become a man so quickly? How did my first-born grow up so fast? It seems as though just last week that I had to make my way through his Lego building maze in the living room where he built castle after castle for his "He-Man" characters that he played with hour on end. Wasn't it just yesterday that he was exploring his toes for the first time? I remember the day I carried him home from the hospital - all 8 pounds 10 ounces of him, scared to death that I wouldn't know how to care for this precious life God had entrusted to my care. Would I know what he wanted when he cried? What if he got sick? Would I be able to show him how much I loved him - would he ever realize how much I loved him?

It hit me last week as I finally found my "mother-of-the-groom" dress that this was really happening. He would really stand with Meghan, holding hands and promising each other their loyalty and love for a lifetime. To paraphrase the song "Sunrise, Sunset," - 'Where is my little boy at play? I don't remember growing older, when did he?'

Steve Miller is a songwriter & singer from the 1960's & 1970's -- "my music," which is now on Oldies radio channels I might add! (Another 'how did that happen' moment, too!) Steve Miller sang a song, the refrain of which is "Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin', into the future." That's about how I feel right now - time keeps on slippin' away into the future while I keep saying, "Some day I'd like to...travel more...devote more time to some of my hobbies like quilting and needlework...learn how to weave on a loom and tat...read more...etc., etc., etc." If not now, then when? It's kind of like the old adage - you never see "I wish I spent more time at work" on some one's tombstone.

The preacher writes in Ecclesiastes, "To every thing there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to dance; a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to throw away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace." (Ecclesiastes 3:1-7)

In the 1960's a band called The Byrds sang a song based on this passage of Scripture and added, "I hope it's not too late." I really must be feeling nostalgic with all these 1960's song references, but I guess it's part of where I'm at with all the transitions going on in our lives this year - living the farthest away from our hometowns since our marriage over 27 years ago, adjusting to all the new things in our lives, and the marriage of our son with the addition of a new family member, Meghan our soon to be daughter-in-law. I hope it's not too late to live life to its fullest.

Maybe it's all about balance -- knowing what season of life we're in, realizing what it's time for. In two weeks it will be a time to weep and a time to dance. Come September 1 (Craig's & Meghan's wedding date) I'll be doing a bit of both - dancing for joy at their happiness and the wonderful young man Craig has grown to be - but also some weeping - both tears of joy and tears of pain. Joy for the beginning of Craig's and Meghan's lives together and a little twinge at my heart strings for "my little boy grown to be a man."

The one thing I know for certain is the fact that God is the author and owner of all time. The preacher in Ecclesiastes says it this way: "I know that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it; God has done this, so that all should stand in awe before him. That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already is; and God seeks out what has gone by." (Ecclesiastes 3:14-15).

So on September 1, 2007, I'll be sitting in the front row on the groom's side with a smile on my face and tears in my eyes, savoring the convergence of past memories, the present moment and future hope for our lives together, knowing that our past, present and future are all a part of the eternity of God. And I'll stand in awe before God.

By God's Grace,
Michelle

Visitors

We had some visitors at Christ Church this past Sunday. The Focus Quartet, a local Christian singing group, was here for our combined worship service - but they're not the visitors to which I'm referring. There were those who came to listen to the Focus Quartet who do not usually attend Christ Church - but they're not the visitors to which I'm referring, either.

We had visitors of another sort - the four-legged, furry, odiferous sort of visitors. When I arrived to the church on Sunday morning, our janitor Adam said, "We have bees." I wasn't surprised because we're having the flat roofs of the education, youth and office wings of the church replaced with peaked roofs and knew that the roofers had discovered some bees or wasps in the eaves. They'd been flushed down into the building. "And" Adam said, "we have skunks." Now, I'd seen a skunk in the back yard of the parsonage a few times at night, so again, I wasn't surprised and I told Adam this. Adam responded, "No, I mean we have skunks right now - in the window well.

So, we walked down the hallway and out the door that faces the parsonage, peeked around the back of the church building and there they were. Two, maybe three, black and white furry, musky-smelling skunks huddled in a sleeping pile in the corner of the window well. They didn't seem disturbed by us and we certainly were NOT going to disturb them. So, we came in and we talked a bit about whether they'd be able to get out or not but we weren't going to fuss with it right then.

When I walked home from church, I peeked around the corner and they were still there. One of the skunks looked up at me and seemed a bit curious, but since I was more aware of the consequences of getting too close to a skunk than I was curious, I ducked back around the building and walked home.

But I've got to admit I was curious. Could they get out? I can't say I like skunks, but I don't like to think that any living creature would die because they couldn't get out of a window well. And we had just heard someone from the Game Commission at their booth at Discover Presque Isle Days talking about how misunderstood the skunk is. They're curious and quite helpful since they eat grubs and insect larvae. And he had a stuffed and mounted skunk -- it was kind of cute.

So, I got on the Internet and did a Google search with these words: "skunk window wells." Guess what - seems like this thing happens quite frequently. The websites I found said skunks fall in window wells all the time because they're near-sighted. Since they're not good climbers, they're trapped until someone helps them out.

Okay, I'm game how do you help them out? Three ways: 1. If the window well is 2-feet deep or less, place a flat, wide board at a 45 degree angle and they'll climb out by night-fall, 2. If the window well is more than 2-feet deep, put a piece of stinky cheese in a pet carrier, carefully lower it into the window well, when the skunk is busy gnawing on the stinky cheese, carefully raise the carrier like an elevator, being careful the skunk can't reach through and bite you, place it on the ground and when the skunk is done with the cheese, she'll leave, AND 3. If you know what you're doing, put on heavy, thick gloves, grab the skunk around the middle firmly, and lift it out of the window well.

Since I do NOT know what I'm doing (and even if I did) the third option was out. I was not about to measure the window well, plus I just saw the 2nd method ending badly for me. So, let's try the first option. I'm the type that if I can make do with something that's close enough, I'll usually try that first. We didn't have any flat planks, but we have a wood pile for the fireplace (which by the way, I've since found out probably attracts the skunks for a hiding place during the day!). I find the longest, widest branch I can find and proceed to the window well.

I get down low, place the branch very quietly in the window well. When the skunks back up and raise their tails I'm gone! It took 4 or 5 tries, but I got the branch down in the window well at an angle. My family and I went to Presque Isle for the evening to watch the sunset on the beach. We stop for ice cream on our way back. By the time we get home, it's dark.

I gingerly proceed to the window well, hoping to find the skunks gone. I look into the window well and there they are - 3 skunks, a mom and her 2 babies, perfectly lined up in a row - staring at the branch. Like a skunk has never seen a branch before - don't these things live in the wild? I wonder if the branch isn't wide enough, so back the wood pile for another branch. I dig through the pile until I find another branch, which I lay alongside the other branch even MORE carefully than before because now the skunks are awake and none too happy about finding themselves still trapped in the window well and now I'm poking a big stick at them. I checked on them a few more times that night and found them anxiously wandering around in circles, probably pondering their situation. I finally found them huddled back in the corner. Now I'm concerned, because I don't want to see them die and if I call animal control, I'm not sure they're allowed to release them again or if they have to euthanize them. I go to bed that night and hope for the best. And when I got up in the morning, the window well was empty with no signs of foul play by the neighborhood cat.

It's made me think about our own journeys. How many times are we ambling along happy as can be and because we're "near-sighted" about things, we find ourselves trapped in a hole we can't get out on our own. Others may come along and try to help us out, but it seems as though they're just poking big sticks at us, and out of fear and lack of awareness of their intent, we posture ourselves ready to defend ourselves by spraying others so that they stay away. Finally we realize there may be a way out, but it seems scary - way too narrow, bumpy, and uncertain. Do we stay in the hole we've found ourselves in and face a certain demise or do we take the risky step of venturing on a path that seems unsteady, with no certainty of where it leads, but just might get us out of our predicament? How often does God's grace make itself known and we reject it out of fear of knowing what lays at the end of the path provided?

I'm glad the skunks are gone and I'd like to think safely on their way. I'd like to think that God's grace saw them safely home. And the next time I'm feel trapped, I hope I remember the skunks and how I made every effort to help them and wished I could make them understand I meant only to help them -- and recall to mind Jesus' words from the gospels, "If you then who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!" (Matthew 7.11)

By God's Grace,
Michelle

Why?

I'm a bit shaken today. I've received an email from our District Office for an urgent prayer concern for one of our retired pastors, his wife and family. His daughter and her family were the victim of a horrific home invasion. Perhaps you saw it on the news: a doctor and his family in Connecticut, the Dr. William Petit was severely beaten, his wife Jennifer Hawke-Petit and their daughters Hayley & Michaela were murdered and then their home set ablaze by the invaders in order to cover their tracks. I don't know this colleague of mine nor his family, but my heart is breaking for them all the same.

What perpetrates such evil? He was a endocrinologist, his wife a nurse and the head of the health department of a private boarding school, so I'm assuming they were fairly wealthy. The news describes their home as part of an "upper-middle class neighborhood." And the news reports that one of the intruders forced Jennifer to go to the bank to withdraw money. And while I can't justify robbery, on some level I get why some people would feel desperate enough to force someone to give them their money. But to violate these innocent people - to make a deliberate attempt to destroy their lives and bring such devastation to those who know and love these people? I guess in a nutshell I'm asking the age-old question - why?

Since I've entered pastoral ministry over 12 years ago, there is one thing I hear over and over again from people - "We're not supposed to ask why." I always challenge that comment, because of two things: 1) God has made it part of our human nature to seek to make sense of things, and 2) If our Lord Jesus Christ could quote Psalm 22:1, asking, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me," as he hung dying on a cross, I think we can ask God why, also.

It's okay to ask why, the key is where we take our "whys." When we take our "whys" to God, we take them to the right place. It's okay to ask God "why" - don't always expect an answer - don't always expect things to make sense - but, in taking our "whys" to God, we allow God into our hearts and minds, and there God can transform our fears, our anxieties, our anger, our jealousies, our yearnings, etc. If we take our "whys" to God, then God can begin to heal our deepest hurts. If we take our "whys" to God, God can begin to help use the worst of things in our lives for good.

Some of the earliest theological questions people asked were questions of theodicy -- If God is good and God is all powerful, then why is there evil in the world? I can give you all the theological explanations that have been used down through the ages to explain how a good and all-powerful God would allow evil to exist in this world. I enjoy discussing and grappling with the answer to this question, but in the end I'm faced with this question: "What do you say to someone who has experienced the kind of evil like what we read about in the Hawke and Petit families?"

I can't explain with certainty why these kinds of evil things happen in the lives of good people. I do believe that God created human beings with free will - and some human beings use their free will to choose evil. God's desire is that we would choose God's way and God's grace enables us to do so. Some have chosen their own way and while I appreciate all of the explanations of why people might get caught up in destructive patterns, ultimately there is no excusing this kind of behavior. I'm not sure that anyone can offer a pat answer as to why these kinds of things happen - ultimately only God knows.

What we know is that our good, all-powerful God is always with us. Jesus promised us that when after his crucifixion and resurrection he said to his disciples, "Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age." (Matthew 28:20)

So, while we cannot assert we know for certainty why these things happen, we do know that our God is with us, and if we trust him with everything in our lives, our God will work out everything - even the most heinous of things that happen in our lives - for good. We know every detail of our lives of love for God is worked into something good. (Romans 8:28, The Message)

So what do we say to someone who is suffering so much? Sometimes we can't say anything, all we can do is offer our presence. Before we offer any explanation, maybe we just show up and state that we don't know what to say, but we're there to uphold those who suffer, offering them the light of Christ when there seems to be only darkness around them. Go be the best Jesus you can be to someone today --- and hug your family and tell them you love them.

By God's Grace,
Michelle

Memories...

I missed posting last week because I was working at one of our Western PA Conference camps - Jumonville. Jumonville is in Hopwood - about 2 miles southeast of Uniontown in Fayette County. Jumonville is like a second home for our family - Steve and I have spent at least 1 week there every year for the past 24 years. We raised our children going to Jumonville. Our son Craig spent 3 summers as Program Staff there and now deans a camp every year. Our daughter has spent several weeks every year volunteering as a counselor for various camps at Jumonville. Jumonville is a special place for us.

We were at Jumonville last week for Creative Arts Thing Camp - C.A.T. Camp for short. We started going to CAT Camp at Jumonville in 1991 as a family vacation. Now Steve is in charge of child care and Ellen and I teach classes. And after 16 years at CAT Camp we've made some very special friends, friends that we only see once a year.

Every year at camp we have some campers who get homesick - usually the elementary campers and most of the homesickness passes by Tuesday or Wednesday. But this year there was an older camper who ended up homesick at the end of the week - me!

This year on our way home from camp we were able to meet our son Craig & his fiancee for lunch in Irwin, PA. Now, Irwin is where we lived for 20 years and where we raised our children. We've not been in Irwin for probably 3 years. It was odd to be in such a familiar place and feel so out of place, having not been a part of the community now for over 5 years. It really surprised me to have such an emotional reaction of homesickness.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. We have a lot of changes going on in our family this year - a new church, new home, new community, a new family member to be added in September (our son's fiancee), and Steve has a momentous birthday next month (the big 5-0) and I'm not far behind him! Changes like these cause you to reminisce and realize the brevity of life. The older I get the faster time seems to go.

It makes me think of the preacher in Ecclesiastes who writes: "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven." And then the author spells out all the seasons of life -- birth-death, war-peace, planting-reaping, killing-healing, destroying-constructing, loving-hating, crying-laughing, letting go-holding on. (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

It's the last one that's sometimes the hardest -- knowing when to let go and when to hold on. Holding on to memories is good, but holding out for things to always remain the same in this life will bring us heartache and disappointment every time. We need God's wisdom to know when to let go of what used to be, in order to embrace the infinite possibilities God has in store for us through the next stage of life God has in store for us.

Make no mistake, we are very glad to be in Erie! However, there are things that tug at our heart from "home." It's the wisdom to know that while the memories are wonderful to hold on to, we've moved on to this season of lives.

We all go through various seasons of life. As we move from one season to another, most of the time we will have a sense of mixed emotions - joy at what's new and sorrow at what's lost. The key is to give God ALL of our days, trusting that God will make the most of them if we allow him to.

James writes: "Yet you do not even know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." Sounds a bit depressing - and this truth of life can cause us to become either fearful or inactive. But the uncertainty of life is not cause for sadness - it's a reason for realizing how completely we depend on God. The way of Christ is not to be terrorized into fear or paralyzed into inaction by the uncertainty of our future. The way of Christ means that we commit our future and all our plans into the hands of God, and then allow God to order our days so that they are in keeping with God's will.

And so, we venture forward, holding on to the memories and fondness of our past, ready to embrace the wonderful future God has in store for us, all the while savoring every moment of every day in our present lives, giving all glory and honor to God!

By God's Grace,
Michelle

And So We Begin...

Well, it's the first week of my new appointment as the pastor of Christ Church. What a whirlwind of a beginning! As I write this, I am very much appreciating the 4th of July, as it gives me some time to take a deep breath to get a little rest and to reflect on our journey thus far.

There are unique situations, but for the most part, United Methodist pastors begin their new appointments on July 1 of a given year. This is the first time in any of my transitions to a new appointment that July 1 was actually on a Sunday morning. Usually there are a few days in the office, unpacking a few of the most necessary boxes, feeling a little settled in and then Sunday happens. But not this year - wham! First day and first Sunday all in one fell swoop! But God is good, all the time -- all the time, God is good!

From my perspective I was pleased with worship. I felt God's presence with me and felt as though I was connecting with the people in the pews. The folks here have been very welcoming and gracious. I'm excited about the possibilities of ministry God has in store in Erie with and for Christ Church. I feel as though we're off to a good start together - part of that due to David Janz, the previous pastor of this church and the good way in which he has helped to prepare myself and this congregation for this new appointment -- and ultimately due to God's grace that just abounds!

I'm also glad for this break in the middle of the week, because as we begin a new ministry and settling into a new home here in Erie, our family is also preparing for a week at C.A.T. Camp at Jumonville starting on Sunday afternoon. Now, for those of you who don't know - we have three GREAT camps in our Western PA Conference. Jummonville is the one we know the best, but all 3 camps are terrific! And for those of you who are wondering - what in the world is C.A.T. Camp, I'll tell you - Creative Arts Thing Camp. This is a great family camp - leather crafting, stained glass, basket weaving, fabric dying, scrapbooking, quilting, kids' classes, jewelry making, sketching, Ukrainian eggs - to name a few! What started out as our family vacation, has now turned into a week in which we contribute to the camp as teachers. My husband Steve is in charge of child care, our daughter Ellen teaches scrapbooking and I'm teaching rag-basket making this year. It is no longer a vacation, but we still love to get up on God's mountain to catch up with old friends and make new friends. Jumonville is just one of those places that I find spiritual renewal. But, in getting ready for teaching at camp, there's a lot of work involved - and on top of that, the challenge of making a change in our home and church family and my new work schedule.

Everybody says change is hard, but change is easy - it's transition that's hard! Change is an inevitable part of life -- it's getting used to new ways of doing things that's the hard part. Like going to a cupboard in the kitchen to look for a cup and finding that in a different kitchen, the cups work better on the other side. Or, going into a different bathroom with lots more switches and trying to remember which one turns on which light. Or, learning the nuances for different worship services.

Change and transition are words that are often used interchangeably, but they have different meanings. Change is a one-time occurrence - we change clothes, change houses, change jobs. Transition is the on-going process of dealing with a change. Transition is letting go of what we're used to and embracing how things might become. Transition periods can be some of the most productive periods of our lives, if we remember that we're not throwing away what's happened or where we've been in our lives. Transition means that now we accept the changes and search for the way God is calling us forward. During transitions we might grieve what we've lost, longing for how things used to be -- and that's okay. But transitions are also a wonderful time of discovery and renewal. It's a time to say what do we want to keep in our lives, what needs renewed in our lives, what needs to go? God is the great change-agent -- God is always longing to renew us and make us more and more into the image of Christ. And in my experience, God most often uses the every day events of life to do that, if we allow God's Spirit to be at work within us and among us.

In Benedictine spirituality, "statio" is an important concept. "Statio" acknowledges the times between times. In Wisdom Distilled from the Daily, Joan Chittister explains, "The practice of statio is meant to center us and make us conscious of what we're about to do and make us present to God who is present to us. Statio is the desire to do consciously what I might otherwise do mechanically. Statio is the virtue of presence."

So I'm pausing to think, "What drawer is the silverware in?" and "Which key opens what door?" and "What do we do next in worship?" -- and in pausing I'm having to be conscious about things that are usually mechanical and I'm finding that God is always in that moment of the pause. I'm also being reminded as I pause for some rest and reflection on our nation's birthday, that every day I need to take the "pause that refreshes" - quiet moments all through every day to take a deep breath, center my life again in Christ, and go forward with God ready to guide me to the next step.

I hope for you who read this that you take some time today to thank God for where you've been, think about where God is calling you forward and trust God to do that. And in your pauses of today's moments, in between the hot dogs and the fireworks, pray for our country, our leaders, our soldiers in harm's way, those who are controlled by oppressive regimes and pray for oppressive leaders - that they would choose God's way. In fact - why not weave sacred pauses into every day routine things - thank God for the moment and savor that moment, because you will never have it again.

By God's Grace,
Michelle

We made it!

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Well, we've arrived in our new home in Erie, PA. Our things were loaded on a moving van on Monday, and after packing both cars to the gills (including our 2 dogs, 1 cat and 5 fish), we headed northward to our new home. We arrived later than we had hoped on Monday evening (close to 8:30 P.M.), and were delighted to find air mattresses inflated and made up with clean, fresh sheets. Thought and care were taken to make sure that there was a dinner, dessert and all kinds of ice cold drinks in the fridge - nothing like a frosty cold pepsi to quench your thirst! And we had REAL silverware to eat our dinner - we've been using plastic forks for nearly a week now as we packed up our kitchen utensils for the move. You wouldn't think something as simple as a stainless steel fork can make your day! And then a friendly phone call this afternoon with word that our dinner had been prepared and would be delivered later that afternoon. How warmly welcomed we have been to our new home!
As I awoke this morning, just a hint of fear gripped my heart as I thought, I hope the movers actually show up with our stuff today. Can't tell you why that random thought roamed through my mind this morning - but there it was -- what if something has happened and all of our things are gone! What if something has happened to our things - we had one previous move where the movers broke the headboard to our bed (we slept on our mattress on the floor for over a week while it was being repaired) and once we were unloaded we found many things that had not survived the move. So, I had reason to fear that our things not arriving safely had some reality to it.
And then I got to thinking further - how much faith it actually takes to load up your whole life in a 40-45 foot moving van, watch them lock the doors and take off, trusting that they'll show up the next day and get you unloaded safe and sound. So, this morning, I felt the rumble of fear, said a prayer asking God to see us through this day with a safe and uneventful move. God is so faithful - but even if things had gone awry, we would still be safe and sound.
As we are on the other side of this day of unloading that was a safe and uneventful process (thanks be to God!), I realize how much like our journey through life is this moving process. It's all about trust! Trusting God means that we place our whole life in his hands, not knowing if tomorrow will bring smooth sailing or rough waters, but knowing that our future as much as our present is all in God's good keeping. Trusting God means that we load up our whole life on that Gospel Train, sure that we will be safe and sound, despite any outward circumstances that would try to convince us otherwise. God is with us through every leg of the journey....more about that on Sunday!
For now, we're just glad we made it, and look forward to our first Sunday and many, many years of fruitful ministry for God's kingdom with the good people of Christ UMC here in our new home of Erie!

Soon and Very Soon

Tuesday, June 18, 2007



They're everywhere -- boxes upon boxes upon boxes - filled with most of our earthly possessions. In a few days (6 to be exact) the moving van will arrive to load these things on board and carry us to our new home in Erie. We're in the final "throws" of packing - throw it in a box and tape it shut! We're living an "in-between" kind of life these days - in between here and there!



It's beginning to feel a bit strange to say that I'm the pastor of New Virginia UMC in Hermitage, because I'm feeling more and more like the pastor of Christ UMC in Erie. It's an in-between time - in between here and there.



It's strange to go to cupboards and drawers and closets for something only to remember that I've packed what I'm looking for. I'll need to make do or do without - at least for a little while. It's an in-between time -- in between here and there.



But in between here and there is what life is like for us Christ-followers. We live in this world, but not of it -- our home is here on earth and yet we have a home there in heaven -- we live a new, abundant, resurrected life in Christ here, but only in part, the fullness of life yet awaits us. We live in between here and there.



In between here (earth) and there (heaven), we're to be faithful to what God calls us to do - to live a life that exhibits all the marks of a true follower of Christ (Colossians 3, Ephesians 4, Romans 12 - to name a few). One of my favorite authors, Richard Foster, has said it well -- "The point of the Christian life is not to simply get us into heaven, but to get heaven into us!" (Streams of Living Water)



So, for now we're being faithful to what God calls us to do, pack up our lives and make our home in our new mission field - Erie, Pennsylvania, with Christ Church as our home base. Soon and very soon we will be there - in Erie, and for now, we're living in between here and there - trusting God the whole way!