How can we possibly know him?

I harvested my wheat today.  Do you know how long it takes to grow a crop of wheat?  A really, really, really long time.  Like baby growing long.  I have been waiting for a dry day to tackle my tiny crop for a week or so now.  Those heavy heads started drooping just like sleepy tinies, and I knew it was time.  I took a paper sack and Annabel and we yanked those lovely nodding heads off and tossed them merrily into the bag.

I thought about Jesus and his disciples walking along tugging off those same clusters of grains on the Sabbath.  I imagined how he would have absently rolled the chaff off and popped the nutty kernels into his mouth.  I can almost hear his sigh as the paunchy, self-important Pharisees came hustling over clucking and murmuring.  "It's the Sabbath, Jesus...what do you have to say for yourself?  Surely those disciples of yours know better than to harvest on the Sabbath!  I am sorry you are hungry.  We just can't go rewriting the rules because somebody didn't plan ahead..."

I thought about Ruth gleaning in Boaz's fields.  I saw how it would have taken extra stooping to retrieve the shorter more out-of-the-way grains.  I could imagine how she thought of her lost husband as her fingers began to sting with the roughness of the chaff, and glimpsed her brushed away tears as she toiled lonely and scared.  I thought about how she would have glanced around, surprised, as she began encountering not the low, scrawny, gleaner's heads, but the tall, proud grains that were the offering of a lover.

I thought about Cain and his work.  I thought about grain scattered here and there; some landing happily, some not.

And I thought about the fields "white with the harvest."  Jesus told his disciples that the harvest was plentiful, but the workers were not.  I am no great exegete, but I just wondered as I found my rhythm of harvest, what exactly is ripe?  I have always assumed that it was people ready for the gospel train a comin', but in Matthew 9, Jesus has compassion on the people because they were stressed out not necessarily because they were lost.  In fact, he was talking about the crowds of people who were following him already.  I think.  What if God's people are the harvest?  What if the love that Christ endows us with through grace is the nutty fruit that nourishes the hungry and discomfits the comfortable, and Jesus is asking the disciples to pray that God will send laborers out into the world to teach people to share God's love.  Not that the lost are the harvest waiting for someone to save them, but that the harvest is those who are filled with God's love and ready to be sent out as nourishment.  Seed if you will.  How would that change how you look at the harvest?  Stressed out? Overwhelmed? Chin up!  Jesus might just be having compassion on you and noticing how wonderful and marvelous you are!  Jesus might be thrilled that you are ready to share love and nourishment with a starving world.

Also, harvesting is itchy.

Whoa, Y'all!

Not going into detail, but last week I was nasty.  I spent my Memorial Day weekend in unholy dedication to my potty.  I kinda felt like being that sick on Pentecost might qualify as blasphemy of the Holy Spirit.  This means I now have a WHOLE pack and play full of folding and a to do that will not get done.

Whew...

Today is Trinity Sunday and I like to think of today as my annual Sunday School class wherein I tell my eager student that I have no real understanding of the Trinity.

To use Luke's favorite preacher joke: the Trinity: what a mystery.  In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

But today, I had a brain wave.  Not a theological revelation really, just a new way to think about this crazy idea.  First, I must first admit that I have always understood the threeness of God better than the oneness.  Also, I tend to think of God overall as God the Father.  So, clearly I have some conceptual work to do in this area.

Enter, fantasy fiction.  For those of you who do not read fantasy (Mom), one thing you need to understand is that all things have a called name and a true name.  Your true name reveals some fundamental part of yourself and if someone knows your true name they will understand something fundamental about you (this depends on the story).  What seems to be pretty consistent is that one's true name reflects something about one's purpose.  Sometimes characters know their true name, some are looking for it, some do not know it at all, but the name exists beneath the mundane revealing the mysterious.

SO...ready for a major geek-out?!?!  God is the only being who has three true names!  I know!  Each of these names is fully true and fully distinct but yet exist within God.  I wanted to do a happy dance.  Not that this particular revelation will change much about the practicalities of Christian life, but it works for me.  Mystery intact but somehow less abstract.

Now I am going to get a butter beer...

Broken Hearted

Today I am broken.  I pretty much stunk it up as a mom.  I was grouchy, snappy, gruff and unlovely.  I wanted nothing more than for my kids to just go to sleep for lots of hours.  I don't like admitting it, but sometimes I just have to be honest.

Honest.

Because if I am not, someone might get hurt.  My kids might think I am disappointed in them.  But I am not.  I am overwhelmed.  My whole person is cluttered and scattered.  I am trying to hold my heart together with glue made of tears.  I am tired, self-absorbed, and prone to blather on about my heavy load.

Honest.

But that isn't all of it.  I am also finding that my ears, eyes and hands are always full.  Audiobooks, texting, blogs, house-hunting, even Bible reading make sure that I am never left alone, quiet.  I love all that stuff.  But I am NEVER quiet.

Honest.

Because if I am quiet, I have to face to questions I have been assigned.

How to love these children?  Who are the least of these?  What can I do to share the love of Christ?  How can I follow a Jesus who commanded us to love God and neighbor and still called a woman a dog?  Every time I get my mind around this guy, I lose my focus and my schema falls apart again.  I want Jesus to be one guy all the time.  A feed the hungry, love the lonely, clothe the naked (although this last one is quite a challenge at my house) fella who never tells confusing stories or tells someone they don't have a place at the table.

Honest.

I hate that story.  But it gives me hope.  Maybe the writer of the story was simply illustrating something that made more sense to the writer's audience.  Maybe Jesus never really meant that.  I don't know, but the woman looked persisted and was healed.  Sometimes I feel gruff and I fear that I am no longer reflecting the love of the Father, but, heck, even Jesus Christ lost it in the face of constant whining.  But, he was humble and honest and I can see him close his eyes, take a deep breath, and murmur, "start over" to himself, and he healed that whiny, fussy, unlovely woman.

Honest.

Tomorrow I will start again.  Tomorrow I have another chance to love these little miracles.  Tomorrow I have another chance to work in a quiet moment.  Maybe two.

BTW...I only have one basket of clothes to put away.

And it is mostly socks.

And who need socks in the spring?

Giving Oliver to God

In Laine's words, we gave Oliver to God yesterday.  He was really worried that he would be out this longed for brother when we started discussing baptizing Ollie.  We explained that although we give someone to God when we baptize them, God gives them back so that we can teach them how to follow God.

Our wild and colorful family stood around the baptismal font with our sweet Oliver Trotwood yesterday, and each of us scooped up water and participated in giving Oliver to God.  Laine seriously dabbed his brother's head, Luke doused him with jubilation, I dripped a bit on myself hurriedly so as not to miss out on the moment, and Annabel, Annabel baptized Oliver by scooping up a generous handful of water and slopping it on her own blessed head.

She is an amazing child.  I hope she reads this someday when she thinks I don't understand her or that I don't want her to have fun.  I love her...down to her toenails.  She can be spicy and she has opinions, but I learn so much from her.  Yesterday she showed me that it is not enough to abstractly remember our baptism through liturgy, we must immerse ourselves in the depths of baptism and covenant on a visceral level to cloud around the baptized and refuse to let them go.  We must be willing to get caught in the runoff, not to be re-baptized, but to be con-baptized.  To come along side.  To encourage.  To join in.  We must be foolish enough to believe in the power of the water and the grace.  Oliver, I have great hope for you because you have a sister and a brother who believe in the power of your baptism enough to join with you in grace and love.

Abide in Me

I am getting really tired of John 15.  Go ahead and read it.  I will wait right here.

Ok, see what I mean?  I am tired of this Jesus who freely offers abundant life and growth.  I am tired of this Jesus who requires just one simple thing: to love others with a love that lays down life.  Cripes...that's all huh?  And then Jesus has the boldness to say that he is saying this so that we may have complete joy.  Really?

Really?

Cuz, I was kinda thinking that I was wanting Jesus to live in MY life.  You know, come fill up MY life, in MY house, with MY stuff.  Like painting the walls a lovely and calming Jesus-green.

Source: countryliving.com via Andrea on Pinterest

Jesus, come live in my heart, over here...where I am comfortable.

John 15

Go back and read it again...

Did you catch it...Jesus didn't ask to live in our hearts...he asked us to abide in HIM.

He doesn't want to come to me, he wants me to come to him.

Darn.

And love like he loves.  The lay down your life kind.  The rearrange your budget...ok MAKE a budget...so you can responsibly feed the poor kind.

Big girl panties time.

It is pretty paint though.

Deeply Deeply

I have wandered far this Lenten season.  I have shed more tears in the last 40 days than in the last 4 years. Probably not true, but close.  I have been taken by the spiritual shoulders and spun around to take a closer look at the heart in the mirror.  I am trying really hard not to blink and look down, but the light hurts my eyes and I just don't want to look anymore.

Luke preached a moving resurrection sermon this morning that churned my thoughts up even more.  How can we "serve a risen Savior" without acting anything like him.  I don't think that Jesus went through the agony of the cross for us to be saved but to serve.  When we deny the immediacy of sanctifying grace and focus on the someday of heaven, we refuse to serve--demanding to be served.  Jesus's grace that is so freely offered breaks sin's hold on us so that we may be free to serve and to love and to dance and to weep.  O, Church, refuse to let Jesus be a means to avoiding hell and embrace his call to love the ugly, smelly, lonely ones.

And I puzzle...how do I serve when I can't see beyond the horrendous pile of laundry in my "guest room" (laundry graveyard) or my own children are beating on each other?

Jesus suffered and died and overcame death to give us freedom.

Let's use these 50 joyful days of Easter to explore how those of us who spend actual time and energy thinking about socks can embrace this call to go wash each other's feet (do baths and diaper changes count?).

Jesus's kingdom was first proclaimed by such as us...

Advent two

Today in our Sunday school class we talked about Advent (naturally) and we began to talk about how the Kingdom of God is like that moment in a novel when you realize that the protagonist is special.  He or she has an appointed task that they struggle to realize is their destiny, but when they do amazing things start to happen.  Well, the Kingdom of God is like that.  It is like a special power that begins to flow from Christ through you to the world when you accept the mantle of being an heir of God with Christ.  Cool, huh!

So I asked my class (the "kids" as Laine calls them) what special powers people would have in the Kingdom of God.  They are supposed to get back to me next week.  Healing and strength were already suggested.

As an unashamed lover of fantasy, I am thrilled by the image of the Kingdom of God being a fuller, richer  more abundant life here on earth.  One where we are part of something bigger and what we do matters.  So, my question to you is, what special power would/do you have in God's Kingdom?  Now, I do not like SiFi, so put all those weird ideas about laser shooters and mind rays out of your head.  I am talking about things that are possible, like healing, loving, noticing the poor, visiting the sick, touching the lepers.

Leave a comment below.

How does God use you in the Kingdom?

Clover

Today is one of those cool, clear days that make fall my favorite time of the year.  I certainly miss the peaches (so good this year), fresh green beans and sitting under the pecan tree feeling lazy (you still can, but your bum bum gets chilly), but somehow the settling in of fall is calming and just--right.   This morning as I, slowly, went about my morning chores, I noticed how thick the crimson clover is getting.  It made me realize that we are really doing it!  Our first real garden was a reality.  It might not have been a perfect success, but it was a garden.  I did manage to feed my family fresh vegetables and we have fresh eggs.  Now the garden is resting preparing for the burden of next year's crop.  As the chickens do their thing in the tractor (amazingly well I might add...loving those ladies) and the clover restores the tired soil, I too am resting.  I am not feeling too smug about this decision because it is a bit forced (how can I be utterly exhausted from writing two bills and filing six pieces of paper?), but I am concentrating on dwelling in my time.  I am so excited about meeting this new face that it would be easy to get distracted by counting minutes, but I need this time.  Just like my little garden needs to be replenished, I must take advantage of this time to be replenished.

Luke has been reading Worship Architect  at night and I get a pretty thorough synopsis of each idea.  I am sure two things just jumped out at you: my husband is a bit of a nerd, my children are doomed to nerdom as well.  Anyway, one of the things that echoed through my foggy, post-day brain, was that worship is God's revelation to us and our reciprocal response.  Now that I can grasp.  

I have always sensed that God reveals God's self through the rhythm of the seasons.  Just as God created each season to serve a purpose and taught God's people to care for the land, God created us to live into the rhythm of creation.  We must embrace our periods of rest as joyfully as those of productivity.  I find this very difficult because I find a great deal of satisfaction from productivity.  In fact, most of the time production overwhelms completion in my life, but let's talk about that later.  But, God has revealed the goodness of rest (Sabbath, Sabbath years, Jesus praying), and my response must be to joyfully rest.  

Now, if I can just keep Annabel off the kitchen table...