Lament for the Fallen

This morning as I left my house and walked through my neighborhood and saw black men walking and working, I felt again the pain of ongoing hurt as we heard yet another failed indictment last night. I wrote this lament:

Lament for the Fallen

Prophets have been weeping for thousands of years
Watching people suffering, covering them with tears
Wondering where our God is while we shake with our fears,
And holding out hope for tomorrow.

When will we see a change, when will justice rain?
Why do the same people have to feel most of the pain?
When will righteousness roll down, when will we see a change?
We're holding out hope for tomorrow.

Meanwhile we can't be still, we must speak, and march and try,
Standing together, holding those who cry,
Doing what we can do so no more need to die,
And holding out hope for tomorrow.

New Vision

My eyes have monovision. One sees distance and the other works close up. My brain adjusts, and figures out how to use each eye’s strength and weakness for each situation. Sometimes when I'm driving on the highway, especially at night, it's easier to use glasses to correct my vision, so that I have improved distance vision. I pass the vision test without them, but it’s easier to read the signs, and my eyes don’t grow as tired when I use the glasses.

When I put those glasses on, it's like I can feel the gears in my brain cranking to a new place to adjust to the glasses. It's kind of hard to explain and really somewhat painful. It's not quite like physical pain, but almost. I always feel like just taking off the glasses. But if I'm patient, my eyes adjust after a few minutes and I can see better at a distance. It's well worth it if I'm driving on the highway for a while. 

Sometimes life requires mid-course adjustments. Painful, and yet worth it in the long run. We may have a passable approach to a problem, yet not the best approach, not the one that will sustain us over the long run. At times other friends provide the adjustment we need, if we are willing to accept the help. Other times a boss or supervisor or parent or even child may have something that cranks our brains but brings us to new clarity. Be willing to allow new vision even when it hurts. The benefit outlasts the pain.

Martyrs and Reformers

My husband and I had the privilege of traveling in Europe for the last two weeks. In addition to beautiful art and amazing scenery, we enjoyed the sweep of history. 

We stood where they believe Peter was martyred, and saw a moving painting depicting the event.

 We stood by the Roman Colosseum, scene of pagan revelry, just next to the Arch of Constantine, marking the new age of Christianity as the empire's religion.

 

In Prague, we saw a statue of Jan Hus, burned for his faith and also these crosses in the Square in memory of other martyrs of those days of early protest and reform. In modern times in Prague students burned themselves to protest communism.

 

And then in Wittenberg, and Luther's house, I had a moving experience reading one of his quotes and realizing the stream of history in which I stand. I would not pastor church today if it were not for the reformers of days gone by and the many sacrifices they made, with their very lives, others with their freedom, others with the honor that would have been due them had they not protested the system.

We do stand on the shoulders of giants (quoting Isaac Newton). As we serve faithfully, I hope others will stand on our shoulders. More women pastor today than when I started 30 years ago. And it’s not really about that as much as about being obedient to God’s call and having the courage to follow that call. That’s what washed over me while standing in Luther’s house, the great responsibility that I have been given. May we serve with the courage of these ancestors in the faith, even if our physical lives are not at risk, may we be willing to risk reputation, favor, popularity, to do and say what God asks. Then someday we can join these forefathers and mothers in rejoicing at battles won and souls delivered.

A Split Soul

Today I walked up Kennesaw Mountain, where the Confederate Army dug in to protect Atlanta from the advancing Union troops. They lost and the Union Army left a swath of burning and pillaging in their wake.

I was born in Kentucky, a border state. Kentucky was a slave state, a fact of which I'm not proud. But when the war came, we made the right choice. Yet that choice split families as brothers signed up for differing sides of the conflict. Imagine the parents' anguish.

I now live in Cincinnati, and our family never really claims the state of Ohio, living in the corner as we do, but I'm proud of many things about my adopted city. Yet being a pseudo-Southerner is like having a split personality. Living with guilt, yet pride in the positives about the South, like the warm hospitality.

I'm grateful the Civil War ended slavery. But when I'm in the south, noting evidence of the battles, it hurts my soul. It hurts my soul to see injustice fixed only by violence.  And it's still going on today, in the Middle East, Ukraine, other parts of the world. I'm glad we are once again the "United" States, but justice still struggles, as we sure haven't outgrown racism and its side effects. As we continue to attempt to solve injustice with violence, sometimes it's hard to say which is worse, injustice, or the remedy. 

Humans lose more than just lives to violence, we lose respect and trust. And yet so often, as in the days of Lincoln, hard choices have to be made. I'm glad I don't have to make this kind of decision. I want to be careful not to judge those who must. The Bible tells us to pray for our leaders, let us do so instead of judging their choices. And may God clearly lead them.

Regret

Today I saw one of those signs in the store full of advice, and it ended with Never regret.

I have tried to live my life without regret. When I think of living without regret, for me that mostly means in relationships. Like tell people how you feel, hug them, love them, make sure they know. Too often we lose people without them understanding our deepest regard for them. Or they just walk around feeling undervalued because we didn't express ourselves.

But as I saw that sign saying Never regret, I thought that's a bit impossible. If we live with risks, take chances to stretch ourselves, sometimes it won't work out well. We'd be crazy not to regret that wrong move that ended up with a broken bone or other mishap. We will find ourselves saying, "well I wish I hadn't done that."

So I do try to live without regret in a way that pushes me to places I would otherwise avoid, but allow myself regret when appropriate, when life doesn't work out.

Today Robin Williams died, probably at his own hand, his escape from depression. Suicide brings a host of regret from the person's loved ones, a tornado of "What ifs..."

But we can only live life forward. Perhaps Williams himself had a moment of regret before his life elapsed.

On a smaller scale in the world's eyes, a dear Christian leader in our denomination and his wife died taking their granddaughter home, and the child perished as well. Undoubtedly the mother and father of that three-year-old, grieving their daughter and parents, are full of what-ifs as well, but at least that leader and his wife lived life full on for God, and died without regret, instead of in despair.

Whether by our own hand in a swirl of depression or by tragic accident, our end looms uncertain. In every day we are gifted, let us truly live without regret, taking advantage of every opportunity, even more as the Day approaches, and when we fail, forgive ourselves easily and begin again. Herein lies the remedy for regret.

God Sent a Deer

Today I took my daily walk in Spring Grove Cemetery. If you're not from Cincinnati that may sound odd, but it's an arboretum too, the largest civilian cemetery, and quite beautiful. Typically I walk about 3 miles and clock my pace on my phone.

But today I felt too tired and weary of spirit so I just ambled along, then took a few moments to sit and contemplate. I had just passed this monument and was thinking about how we cannot build anything permanent on this earth, it is subject to decay. I've been missing my parents this weekend looking through old photos.

 

I was sitting across from this beautiful chapel which is also missing pieces.

 I got up to continue my walk and noticed a deer down the road. It was mid day, hot, not a normal time to see a deer. Then I saw she had twin fawns. I began walking toward her. They were grazing some distance away and I kept walking to get a better view. The mother saw me, and began walking TOWARD me. You can see in this series of pictures how far she came in my direction, her ears pointed forward, looking right at me.

Something spooked one of the fawns and they all ran off, bounding away their white tails flagged in the air. I turned and started for home.

Deer are common everyday creatures, abundant in the cemetery and most woods, but I still love them. I felt encouraged by this special moment of connection. I felt encouraged to keep walking forward, into what the future holds, I will only see my parent in heaven, I will only see what God has in store here by walking into it. But God wasn't done yet.

On this hot day, a car stopped with one of the staff and handed me a cold bottle of water. I have walked here for years and that has never happened.

Then today's mail brought a belated birthday card with a gift from my mother-in-law, more than expected gift inside. Also a dear friend sent a gift in honor of Girlfriends Day. I felt remembered and acknowledged.

As I was walking toward the deer, my headphones were playing Because He Lives, a new version by David Crowder Band with Bill Gaither. "God sent his Son..." That's the really story of every day, but today in addition to that eternal gift, God sent a deer, a bottle of water, gifts in the mail. God wanted me to feel loved. And I do.

Adulthood

Recently a friend posted a helpful blog about men that women should not marry. Choices like an unbeliever, liar, addict, abuser, etc. Great list of those to avoid. My friend did not write it, but it's main point was that single women (and another post was for men) should not marry a bad choice, it was better to be single. With this I wholeheartedly agree and I appreciated my friend sharing it.

But I had to take issue with this one from the list:
"The man-child. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m suspicious of a guy who still lives with his parents at age 35. If his mother is still doing his cooking, cleaning and ironing at that age, you can be sure he’s stuck in an emotional time warp. You are asking for trouble if you think you can be a wife to a guy who hasn’t grown up. Back away and, as a friend, encourage him to find a mentor who can help him mature." (bolded emphasis mine)

I get the point. But I think we have to be careful what we assume about men or women living with their parents.

Americans value independence. The Bible values interdependence and community. In most cultures children don't move out while single, and often when married they bring their spouse into the family home. Most cultures live more intergenerationally, and benefit both directions.

Yes, we can find some men or women who haven't grown up and have an unhealthy dependence on their family. For some reason we see it as acceptable to room with a peer, but not a parent. These days that even gets testy, because anyone living with a same sex friend past their 20s is assumed to be gay. We really pretty much expect single people to live alone.

I quickly can think of two grown men who live with their mothers. One in his 50s had married, his wife left him, and he moved back in with his mother. She has rheumatoid arthritis and appreciates his help. He works long days and appreciates her cooking for him. They both share the bills. What could be wrong with this picture?

The other man in his thirties served in the Armed Forces, attended college and has lived on his own. But while working to fix his grandparents' house to live in he has lived with his mother. Again, mutual benefit, sharing bills and chores.

My own daughter after living with roommates in college started a graduate program where she knew no one, so she got her own apartment. She has lived alone for three years. Now she has two options, moving into an apartment over a garage of a family in her church, or living with three other women in community.

As she debates the advantages of each, she commented to me she feels like moving in with friends feels less "adult," like a step backwards after living independently.

I actually think the opposite is true. Anyone can live alone. When we can do whatever we want, whenever we want it, basking in our every possibly selfish choice, that takes less maturity. Living with others and sacrificing for community, whether with a spouse or friends, requires more maturity.

So while I realize that most of our culture even the Christians advocate independence, I will take a stand for interdependence. Sharing life not only benefits, it helps us grow in ways we cannot alone.
As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another. Proverbs 27:17 Painful, but worth it.

Pain Management

Our family isn't big on medication, so whenever someone has surgery, we struggle with how to use the prescription pain killers. The nurse always says to stay ahead of the pain, so typically the recovering patient avoids the pills, then takes one, then feels way too weird, and stops altogether or switches to an over the counter option.

Mind numbing pain can retard healing. But in general, pain tells us what is wrong, which helps us fix it. When I get dehydrated I get headaches, and I avoid taking medication so I can tell when I fix the problem. The pain is a symptom, the real problem is my body needs water. Fever means your body is fighting infection, so if you can stand it, allowing that fever to work helps you heal faster.

Figuring this out differs with the patient and the malady. A headache and a surgical incision require different treatment. No one else can really feel your pain or decide what is best for your healing.

This same truth applies to emotional pain. We can be bleeding from the heart and need immediate aid. That might even mean medication. Or professional counseling. Or simply a listening ear.

What it usually does not mean is numbing the pain with too much medication for too long or denying it's there in the first place. When a crisis first happens we often do shut down and that can provide us time to adjust. But in the long run, pain must be faced to be healed.

I have often compared grief to a river that we must cross to get to the other side. We can delay the crossing, but sooner or later we're better off if we get in. We may feel like we're going to drown someplace in the middle, but I believe God will not allow us to go under. There's no way around a river but through.

Grief applies to more than just the loss of a loved one to death, we grieve a lost marriage, a lost job, a child who rejects us, a move away from a familiar home, an injury that changes our ability to function, even the loss of functions as we age.

Whatever causes us emotional pain looms as real as having our arm amputated. The sooner we deal with it, the sooner we will find peace. Like an operation, a loss can leave a scar, but when skin forms a scar that new skin proves more resilient, and in the same way when we truly deal with loss the scar that forms makes us stronger.

People who have endured pain in their lives become more sensitive, more compassionate, more real. The opposite of pain is not numbness, it's healing. Trade numbing the pain for healing the pain. That requires active participation in the process, rather than avoidance and long term medication. I pray you have companions to walk with you toward healing.

Winning Strategy

Today my husband's cousin Dallas Seavey won the Iditarod, again. Two years ago he was the youngest champion ever. Last year his dad won becoming the oldest.

Dallas had a different strategy than most. He set out with a plan that built and got stronger as they went, instead of front speed in what promised to be a fast race. He broke his previous record with endurance, not sheer speed.

This reminds me of the race that Paul called the Christian life. Planning for endurance beats a quick burnout. If you've been at it awhile, ramp it up, not down. Find a new way to engage. Grow some deeper roots.

A dear pastor friend is nearing the end of his race. Even in his limited state of consciousness the doctor noted to his daughter, "We can often sense the spirit of a person when we care for them.Your father has clearly been a very intelligent, dignified, and gracious man. What was his profession?" She told him he was a pastor. He said, "I can see he has been a very unusual, caring, and courageous man. It shows in all aspects of him." 

That's how to finish a race. Check your strategy for what you are doing daily that will result in a strong finish.

A Mother's Love

Today I heard a disturbing account of a mother who filed charges against her sons when they defended themselves against their step-father who attacked the older son. This was not a news report, but a story I heard recounted by the father of the boys.

All day this story played over again in my mind. Every since my first born found herself in her father's arms, I discovered a fierce protectiveness. My family calls me Momma Bear. I can't imagine turning against my children in such dramatic fashion.

At times tough love means parents must report their children who are breaking the law, often for their own good. But to falsely accuse your own children, then lie in court to win the case...beyond my imagination. Of course this permanently obliterated the mother-son relationship. Presumably the mother has no desire to see her sons after treating them thus. And naturally the sons hate their mother and have no space for her in their lives.

As I drove away from lunch I had to call one of my sons. I am so grateful for the relationship I have with all four of my children. I would amputate a limb before severing those relationships. Which is why I cannot understand such a mother as this. Why would anyone alienate her own children so dramatically?

I don't think I will ever understand. I can't imagine either what God thinks of all of this, but it must be heartbreaking to God as well. Yet daily over and over not only do humans injure each other but they also reject God, severing that relationship. And God is always waiting, hoping for that time of reconciliation.

God stands as far juxtaposed from this mother as imaginable. God not only does not falsely accuse and prosecute us, God knows we're guilty and pays the penalty on our behalf. Those boys did not deserve to be falsely accused. Yet daily we all do break the laws of God, and God forgives. We can rest easy in that security, the assurance of God's forgiving grace. What a relief.

As I lie down to sleep tonight, I will pray for those sons and their mother. I will thank God for my relationship with my own children. And I will also thank God for being the type of parent who loves and forgives, accepts and encourages, and seeks the lost and hurting.

What Works

In a previous post I mentioned Dr. Kalas' mention of flunking Lent. I think commonly when people chose something to follow for Lent, the moment they mess up they feel like a failure, and often stop whatever they were doing. One chocolate strawberry and it's back to eating anything chocolate.

I always encourage my congregation to get back to whatever discipline they started even if they fail. This year with the idea of flunking Lent in mind I added a tactic that is helping me "pass."

I'm motivated by accountability and trying to succeed. So I created a chart with each day of Lent. I have columns for the habits I'm trying to follow, from omitting sugar to writing to exercise. Each success for the day gets a checkmark. I'm trying for an "A" as determined by a 90% satisfied requirements.

This wouldn't work for everybody. But it's helping me. Tonight when I made my husband's birthday pie I resisted nibbling the crust scraps because I'm not eating wheat.

On Sundays I'll probably lighten up on some of the habits since it's traditionally a "feast" day and with church twice I really don't have time for all the extra routine I've added. Having a day off can help the other days seem more bearable.

This would make some people's Lent miserable, so do what works for you. Find a way to honor Christ in your practice, whatever it looks like.

Ash Wednesday

An exceptionally long winter both in terms of difficult weather and Lent coming later than usual finally brings us to this day. We notice people walking around with black marks on their foreheads.

Your tradition may or may not practice Ash Wednesday. Whether you observe this day or not, we are approaching Resurrection Sunday, and these coming weeks serve to prepare our hearts for that celebration.

Jesus spent 40 days fasting in the wilderness before beginning his public ministry. At the end of that time, the devil approached him with temptations. It may seem the worst possible moment, while Jesus felt weakened by hunger. But in reality the spiritual discipline of fasting actually meant Jesus felt stronger than usual, ready to take on the challenge, and he did emerge victorious.

Our weeks of Lent can strengthen us in much the same way. Sometimes we sacrifice something we will return to come Easter, such as eating meat. Other times we may give up something we'd be better off without permanently, like smoking. Whatever we chose to do to observe these days, allow the discipline to reorient your life and priorities.

I like to use this season to clean up my personal discipline from the sloth of winter. I am glad the time has come, and hope not only to re-energize my resolve, but to add some new habits.

Dirty forehead or not, I hope your Ash Wednesday begins a season of growth.

Loving Lent?

I love Lent. Mostly. I often say I have a love/hate relationship with fasting, because I love the spiritual benefits but hate not eating. Part of Lent for me is some version of fasting or sacrifice so I can't say I enjoy that, but I do enjoy the discipline.

When Ash Wednesday rolls around each year I am ready to reorient my priorities after the laxness of the winter slump, that time after Christmas when the dark days encourage too much hot chocolate and too little exercise.

I didn't grow up "doing" Lent, and my early years practicing the season focused mostly on giving up food, like chocolate or sugar. Often my own deprivations I imposed unilaterally on my family, at times against their will. One particular season when I said we weren't have that food because it was Lent my son replied, "I didn't put those ashes on my forehead."

Through the years I have learned and added other ways to observe the season, lengthened prayer times, surrendering social media, last year I blogged daily. Any type of discipline fits this time of the Christian year when we remember Christ's sacrifice on our behalf. And when we remember that, giving up chocolate pales in comparison.

One of my favorite preachers J. Ellsworth Kalas wrote a delightful piece on flunking Lent.  http://elink.asburyseminary.edu/flunking-lent/ He describes how his best intentions don't quite work out, but he still enters each Lent with high expectation. I learned years ago that if I do mess up my plan, to stay the course and start again, instead of abandoning ship mid-journey.

Having learned so many ways to observe Lent, I try to encourage people to find what works for them, giving something up, taking something on. The year my mother died unexpectedly in February, I felt too sad for more deprivation during Lent. What I like about the solemn observation of Lent comes in the increased joy and expectation for Resurrection at the end.

Whatever you do for Lent this year, little, lot or nothing, I hope your practice brings you to a new place of solidarity with Christ. Happy Lent seems an oxymoron, but I hope yours is meaningful.