"Graceland" is the name of my favorite song and album. It's by Paul Simon, but more importantly, it's what "home" sounds and feels like to me. We always listened to this album as we traveled from my home in Tennessee to my parents' childhood homes in Florida. But today, it's also a pretty good snapshot of my theology. Somewhere I really believe that the Christian journey is all about a wild trip to Grace-land. As I see it, Grace-land is the place where God is waiting to meet even us–with all the baggage and brokeness that we tote with us. Grace-land is the place where we will be received with open arms, even though our attempts at “getting it right” have been miserable failures at best. But, I think, every step we take is a step on the journey to Graceland.
Showing posts with label calling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label calling. Show all posts

Thursday, September 8, 2011

An Aniversary...of sorts

September 9, 2011. The day my world shook, two days before the whole world shook. The day I wept, some forty-eight hours, almost to the minute, before our nation wept.


Sitting in a sunny spot on my dorm room bed at Tennessee, praying and reading scripture, God spoke. I was reading through the Bible day by day, intending to read from Genesis to Revelation. I should have been plodding through Leviticus, but a voice kept nagging at me to read Jeremiah. I told the voice that I had a plan, and that I would not get to Jeremiah for many months. But still the voice nagged, and bugged, and whispered. My dorm was unairconditioned, so I had all the windows open. In a way that seems like something that could only happen in the movies, a strong breeze came through, and blew the pages of my bible around. Not to Jeremiah, thankfully, because that would have been unbelievable. I tried to get back to Leviticus but the pages kept blowing, and still the voice tugged at me. "Read Jeremiah." So Jeremiah it was. The voice, however, was not specific about what I should read, so I just started at the beginning. A mere four verses in, here's what I found


 Now the word of the Lord came to me, saying,“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” Then I said, “Ah, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth.”  But the Lord said to me,“Do not say, ‘I am only a youth’; for to all to whom I send you, you shall go,and whatever I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, declares the Lord.” Then the Lord put out his hand and rtouched my mouth. And the Lord said to me, “Behold, I have put smy words in your mouth. See, I have set you this day kover nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to break down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.”


Words to a hestitant Jeremiah.  Words to a hestitant me.  People were beginning to recognize my call to ministry, though I was quite certain they were wrong.  But that day, I said yes.  And the irony was not lost on me, two days later, as I sat in a pew with mourners from all over Knoxville, as we prayed for our heartbroken nation.


God's call to me was clear:  Share my love with the ones who have put their trust in the things of this world.  Show them that though the mountains may shake, my love for them will never falter.  Bring my love and shalom to all the broken places and people.  Go to those to whom I will send you.


It's been ten years.  Many will mark the 10th anniversary of 9/11 on Sunday, because that's the day that defined a whole generation of people, the day that changed a nation. I will join with everyone else remembering the day on Sunday, but tomorrow, I will remember that it was the day I said yes, the day from which my life will never be the same.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

For Three Years...

On the occaision of my third anniversary of ordained ministry

For three years, I

have wondered why You called me...

or why I said yes...

have lived a strange life...

have been invited into holy moments of the people I serve with...

have wept, and laughed, and been broken open by Your holy word...

have seen Your hand upon me, guiding me in Your path, even when I wish it wasn't...

have given my heart and soul to the one body of Christ, the church...

have said little words at big times...

and big words and little times...

have searched, and been found...

have had "Reverend" in front of my name, though sometimes that still makes me laugh...

have done my best...

and have seen Your best come my way.

It's been three years, and I'm still glad You called, and still grateful You gave me the courage to say yes.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Chosen

[Thoughts from the conference where I'll be this week: Writing and the Pastoral Life. I'm in rural Minnesota, at St. John's University and Abbey]



"We assume that you're all great writers or you wouldn't be here. You have been carefully chosen because we at the Institute believe you have something to say, and we want to give you the space to say it."



Those were some of the opening remarks made to us at our orientation last night. We were told that the twelve of us were selected from a large number of applications. Well, that's enough to give a girl a big head.



But more than that, it's enough to give a girl (or guy) a sense of purpose. I'm a Presbyterian-- one of our big things is that God calls us to things. Certainly I've been called by God to be a minister (because...ummm...well... that wasn't my plan!) But the idea that someone else senses a purpose for you gives, at least me, a kick in the pants.



The idea that someone believes that I have something worth saying, something that I should be putting out in to the world is more than I have yet been able to believe. It might be the answer to the prayer I've never had the courage to pray-- and it terrifies me. It humbles me. And it makes me dream.

 

Prayer for the day

[Thoughts from the conference where I'll be this week: Writing and the Pastoral Life. I'm in rural Minnesota, at St. John's University and Abbey]



A prayer as I'm trying to figure out what it is to be both a writer and a pastor-- as I realize that I'm tired and burned out, but that there is still a longing in me for something more.



God, make me a vessel. Set me on fire.

Remind me of my calling, reignite my flame.



Give me a voice, and something worth saying.



Wake me up--today.

And again tomorrow,

and tomorrow's tomorrow.



Amen