mental health, youth group, north dakota, and me

it’s 4:38pm, and i should be in the shower.  in less than three hours, i will stand before a group of 7-12th grade students at our church and talk about mental health, faith, and how the two meet. in my last minute preparations, i ran across a statistic that took my breath away.

not in a good way

according to HOPE for Suicide Prevention, suicide is the leading cause of death for ages 15-24 in north dakota.

what?

here i sit…with that information…breathe, stacy, breathe…

do i tell the kids that?

i think i have to tell them.

the kids who sit in front of me tonight are in that age group. they need to know that they do not have to kill themselves. they need to know that they can take each other seriously. they need to know that it isn’t a game or something that they should do because someone else did it. they need to know that they are important today and will be important tomorrow.

they need to know that there is help.

it seems odd that north dakota would have this issue, right? or maybe not.  people who live in north dakota are strong, hard-working, and private. when we stand behind a mask that we put on to keep that image, we often hurt ourselves. and others.

fear of being found out keeps us from saying anything to anyone. pull yourself up and keep on going. if anyone knew what went on inside my head, what would they think?

and there isn’t exactly a plethora of help here.  the thing is, though, that there is probably more help than people realize.

there are big churches here. there is good medical care here. it’s here – walk through the doors, open your mouths, and say the words that will get you some help.

that sounds hard.

and it is.

it isn’t easy for me hit “publish” on posts that reveal to the world that i struggle with energy shifts that cause mood shifts that keep me from wanting to say “help.” but i do it.

i do not do it so that you can look at me and feel sorry for me. i do it so that you can look inside yourself and say, “i can do it too. i can ask for help.”

i do it so that you can look at the person next to you in church and be ready when they say, “can you pray for me? i’m struggling with some feelings, and they scare me.”

i do it so that we stop whispering and wondering and wasting our lives caring about the wrong things.

mental illness is an illness. we only get better when we do all of the things that an illness requires. sometimes illness requires help, intervention, and care.

and that is what i’m going to the kids tonight.

God cares enough about you for you to get help to take care of you. the scary things inside of your head will be less scary when you ask for help, get help, and look to God for truth.  the point is to understand how to manage your emotions and energies so that you can live.

it doesn’t matter where we live, this is an issue. when we stop making it such a big deal to struggle and instead make it a big deal to manage, care, and assist, we will change the tide.

suicide should not be the leading cause of any age group anywhere.

reach out, hold a hand, and speak truth into each others’ lives.

today.

now.

Psalm 46:1 – God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

ps: if you know someone who took his or her life, it’s not your fault.  don’t beat yourself up about it. God doesn’t want you to hold onto that guilt.

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on a lighter note, the giveaway for “Meditations” the coloring book ends on 2/4 at 11:59pm – be sure to get in on it!

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Mirror, Mirror – Embracing Our Fractured Selves

I love words.

I love how they look inside our heads, on pages of books, and even on screens of various devices.

I love how words form clouds of vibrations in the air as people give voice to them.  I love the sounds that they make, how they can put weight on our hearts, and how they can lift our spirits.  I love the tones that we give them, and I love the emphasis that we place on just the right words in sentences we say.

I love how words take my jumbled thoughts from my mind and make sense when I type them into a blog post.

What I love most about words is the pictures that they create in our minds with their various meanings and how those pictures become clearer as we understand the meanings of the words in different ways that impact our lives in meaningful ways.

The word embrace has become that for me recently.

According to Merriam-Webster.com, embrace has many meanings.

One use of the definitions tells us of a physical “hug” type experience.  This would seem to require at least two people who like each other enough to touch each other, to hold each other, and to be near each other for a few seconds or more.

Another sense of the word is that of acceptance in a wholehearted way. This is different than seeing reality as it is and being ok with it.  Instead, we “hug” reality in the same we would a friend whom we have not seen for a long time. We bring it into ourselves and realize that how it is will be a good way to move forward once we accept it.

These definitions of the word can mean so much more when we turn the concept onto ourselves.

When I look in the mirror sometimes, I do not have a clue who it is that I see. There are glimmers of a person who was as well as who is.  Who I am today is a sum of parts.  Some are negative while others are very positive. If I were honest, I would say that I most often feel compartmentalized into the various ages, stages, experiences, and feelings that combine to make me Stacy today.

Rarely – though more so as I age and become very conscious of this concept – do I feel whole.

While there is no running away from the sum of our parts, most of us have parts that we would like to shed.  We write stories in our heads about these parts – we think of it as memory, but is it?  I do not think so.  How I recall a situation and how you recall the same situation may be very different.  Where do we find the reality of it? We rarely do.

How scary is that?

The revisionist historian in me wants re-write my past so that I am victorious when I was not. When I am tempted to do this, I ignore the parts that make up my whole.  I desire to shed the poor decisions rather than look at them, learn from them, and grow because of them. Who I am today would be different if the path that brought me here changed.  When I attempt to change the past (impossible), I would risk changing who I am today.

I drove a lot last week.  Over 1200 miles of thinking time can be risky.  In this case, I think I found something. Somewhere in the last hundred miles, I found an image in my head that I cannot shake.

In my mind, the now-Stacy turned around and saw myself at an age that I would love to shed.  We all have them. We all probably have more than one of them. I certainly do.

I looked at her, and I realized that I am older, wiser, and stronger because of her.

Without her, I do not exist.

In my mind, I embraced her in all of the ways that the word can be used. I held onto her as you would a friend who is about to leave or who is about to fall apart. I apologized to her for wanting to get rid of her, for ignoring her, and for not seeing her strength. Perhaps most importantly, I accepted her into me as part of my whole self.  I allowed that me to be absorbed into the today me.

There are more little bits of me that need this type of embrace, and it probably is not a bad thing to take a moment each day to ask “myself” if there is a bit that is feeling rejected from me.  If rejection from others hurts, how much more does it hurt when we reject a bit of ourselves?

One of the synonyms that Merriam-Webster gives for embrace is cherish.

I love a good word definition search.  The thesaurus may be dying in some worlds, but it is alive and well in my world.  Give me a word, leave me alone to search down its likenesses, and I will find another way to see that word.  That is exactly what happened to me as I considered embrace in reference to myself and these parts that nag at me to see the world their way instead of as a combined vision of the whole of me.  In that search for what it really means to embrace those parts of me – to alleviate their stress of seeing the world their way – I found cherish.

All of the definitions I could find about cherish points to a very special way of seeing a person, place, or object.  When we cherish something, somewhere, or someone, we love and hold it so deeply that we can barely describe why. Words leave us, and emotions flood our senses.

As I stared into my eyes in the mirror yesterday afternoon, I asked myself if I could continue to have the compassion that I found over the weekend. Time will tell, but it is my intention to look at the parts and shower love, understanding, and acceptance on them.

 

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Ending #2 – for those who want to hear about how God fits in to this in my mind…..

One of the reasons that I bother to look at the bits and pieces of myself is because I trust the truth that these are words that God uses to see me. It is unfortunate that love is not the word that many people associate with God, but God is the ultimate lover of humanity. The now-Stacy trusts, knows, and hopes that God embraces and cherishes us regardless of the redemption and restoration that we need.

It is because of His eyes that we can embrace and cherish those bits and pieces of ourselves. It is God’s presence with us through it all that makes our shaky path straight – not because of who we were or are but because of what He did and does on our behalf.

He takes our bits and pieces and makes them whole again.

 

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I have written about “parts of me” before, so I thought I would share with you the links to a few of those posts:

A Little Thing Means a Lot

I Like to Run…Away

A Confession: I Prefer Not to be a Bother

Image credit: http://oathkeepers.org/oktester/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/broken-mirror.png

 

 

 

Just Bring a Pizza

Last week, a friend posted a deal-i-o on Facebook that I instantly shared with a “YES” comment. Many FB friends shared it, so it must have touched on a nerve. It touched on a nerve with me too.

The next morning, the deal-i-o  was still giving me thoughts, so here they are. Incidentally, the same friend who shared the deal-i-o also shared a fantastic (and somewhat cynical) blog post about the deal-i-o on Monday.  I highly suggest that you read it.  I started this post over the weekend but just wrapped it up today.  She encouraged me to publish it even though it was so close to her post date.  I love encouraging friends!

God doesn’t give bad things.

There is seriously so much wrong (in my opinion) with the statement, “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” Right away, we are grabbing onto the idea that God is giving us all of the trials we encounter.  In fact, it would seem to me that we give ourselves some of our trials, we give each other some of our trials, and illness – a physical side-effect of spiritual sin being in the world – gives us most of the others. I have never believed in the kind of God who sits in heaven trying to decide which of  us should have cancer based on who can “handle it.”  Hello!?!?  Even the book of Job is more about getting us to learn how we deal with trials…not realize that all of our trials come from God.

What is more than we can handle?

Most of our lives seem to be recipes for disaster.  We over-commit ourselves in all areas of our lives, and we leave little room for margin.  When the tough things come along, our schedules have no room to handle anything.  A change in my schedule is more than I can handle.  Getting a cold sends me into a tizzy.  Anything more than that is seriously more than I think that I can handle.  And who is to say that I can handle less than you can?  Where does this phrase come from? Why have we integrated it into our line of thinking?

How do we view God?

I have sat in many prayer circles over the years.  There is a rare person in the circle who gives time to praising God for who He is, for what He has done, and for what He will do through us and for us.  Most of us treat our personal and corporate prayer times like a McDonald’s drive through window.

“I’ll take one healing of cancer with a side of extra healing for my dog, please.”

We forget that, though capable of our physical healing, God is more concerned with our relationships with Him and others as well.  The healing that Christ offered while here on earth was equal or more parts spiritual, emotional, and relational over the physical healings that He performed.  While God cares about us (consider the birds of the air…), God is far more concerned with the state of who we are than of how we are.

God created us for community.

God intends for us to celebrate with others (think birthday parties and weddings) as well as to mourn with others (think funerals).  In the in between of those kinds of moments is real life.  God created us to live life together – to play hard, to cry with each other, to listen well, and to encourage one another.

Before crisis hits, we need to take stock and prepare.

1. Get in community and start supporting each other.
2. View the trials of others as trials alone as opposed to consequences of decisions or “gifts from God.”
3. Create margin in life to both take in our own trials as well as to assist in the trials of others.

Consider ways that we can help each other in crisis.

1. Laundry
2. Coupons for pizza delivery or groceries
3. Childcare

Be ready to accept help from others.

Someone commented on my shared post of the picture above that people have to be willing to be helped in order to get help.  Ya sure. You betcha.  Maybe we would all be more willing to take help if we have done a good job of giving the kind of help that actually helps.

Just bring a pizza!

Idle promises of “praying for you” (and then we often forget to do so) will sound much more like promises if we just bring a pizza to their house and say instead, “I have been praying for you, and I thought this might help ease some of the burden.  I’ll be by next week to fold laundry if you would let me do so.”

It’s not easy, though.

I know that I sound like I’m chastising us, and I might be just a little bit.  I am not any better at this than the next person – on either the giving or receiving of help side of things.  When my mom died over a decade ago, one of the best things that a friend did for me was to bring me clothes for the funeral from (where we lived at the time) Minneapolis, MN, to (where the funeral was held) Grand Forks, ND.  I will never forget that generous act.  Even if we are not comfortable going to someone’s house to fold laundry,  something as simple a gift card for gas to help defray the cost of cancer treatments or for groceries to help ease the blow of losing a job will be a big help to those going through a trial.

Let’s look around today and consider how we can help each other.  That is what we are meant to do.

 

This Little (Night)Light of Mine

Saturday was a big day in my life: I bought a night light for the master bathroom.

Rewind: when we moved to Bismarck, we moved into a fantastic house. I love it.  The housing market in Bismarck, ND, is crazy because of the oil boom “out west.”  The most expensive place to live in the nation is Williston, ND, and that expensiveness has made its way to Bismarck.  Because of that, we chose to rent, and – for the second time in our married lives – I saw the house for the first time when I arrived to live in it.

My house is not without quirks, though. One of the quirks is that the master bedroom is in the basement and formerly was the garage. The renovation created a beautiful room with hardwood floors and a walk-out french door view of the spacious backyard.  The bathroom is even more unique than the bedroom with a quarter circle shower in the corner of the room.

The scary part of the bathroom is the step down to get from the bedroom to the bathroom. This makes for hazardous travel on those middle of the night bathroom trips.  It is even more hazardous because it is super, super dark in our room at night and even darker in the bathroom.

Imagine me inching toward the step from my bedroom, holding my hand along the wall and sliding my feet to catch the end of the step.

This pretty much wakes a person up for good.

I am proud to say that neither the huz nor I have been harmed on any of these middle of the night trips, but we have only been here for five and a half months.

On Saturday, I went on the hunt for the perfect night light and found it.  The light it gives off is just enough to make my path known but not enough to trick my brain into thinking it should start working for the day.

As I looked at the light for the first time on Saturday, I had another quick thought that got my brain going (it was ok for my brain to go, though, as it was the middle of the day!).

It really does not take much light to dispel the darkness around us.

I could go on and on for a while about the darkness around us, the negativity of others, and how that makes our souls ache in ways that make us want to stay in bed for days and days.

I do not need to do that.

We are all pretty aware that our world in general is tough, and our specific worlds can be roughness personalized because of what we experience or because of what those close to us experience.

It is not by accident that light gives us hope and darkness brings us down.

Genesis 1: 1-3 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. ² Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

³ And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. ⁴ God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. ⁵ God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.

When Jesus came to Earth, it was dark here. There was a dark sin condition, and He needed to bring hope to us so that we could live life.

John 8:12 Jesus spoke to the people once more and said, “I am the light of the world. If you follow me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life.”

And then Jesus commands us to be light as well.

Matthew 5:14a You are the light of the world.

What we need to do is look for the light around us.  Even a small glimmer of light can give us hope in the midst of our darkness.Sometimes it is hard to find the light because so many of us are hiding our lights.

Matthew 5:15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.

We are content to be our own personal darkness, and – for whatever reason – we choose to hide our lights.  We are concerned that people around do not want to see our lights or hear why we have hope in our lives.

My nightlight is really cool.

When I turn on the bathroom light – which fills the room fully with light – the nightlight goes off. Its light is not needed any more because the bigger light consumes the room.

One day, our lights will not be needed any more either.

When Jesus returns, we will be in God’s presence for eternity.Until then, we are called to be nightlights to the world around us – bringing them hope and sharing with them the reason that we can shine even though darkness surrounds us on all sides.

John 10:10b I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

Amen.

 

You Are a Masterpiece

I have a good friend who is not only a Bloggity-Mc-Bloggerson (click here to go to her blog and be blessed) but also is a published author (click here to get a free Kindle version). Her book helped me through the difficult set of transitions I experienced this fall, and I wrote a blog post in August that served as a  book review while also pouring out my heart to the blog world about the transitions.

Living in a new place can be terrifying and lonely at times.

We have moved plenty of times throughout our marriage, so one would think that I would be used to transitions.  The problem with this particular move was that I had been in one place for so long that I thought God was done having me be on the move.

A word to the wise: don’t think that!

I had settled in, made connections, lived life, and thought, “This is it! I’ll be here forever.”  Not a month after I had that thought and really felt it in ernest, my huz was approached to consider a unique opportunity that turned out to be a call on our lives.

The phone rang, and we answered.

The experience has been exciting and new and fun and wonderful…and hard and difficult and terrifying…and great and different and fulfilling.

Where I find myself struggling is finding “that crew” of people who can do super fun things with me because I want to do something super fun and because I want to plan something super fun for a bunch of super fun…but I am not really sure where all of the super fun people are to be found.

I know where some of them are…and for them, I am really grateful!

I hatched a plan to put some super fun people together in the same doing something fun – Bismarck’s version of “Canvas and Wine.” I am sure you have seen friends posting pictures of their replicas of some cool painting that they did with a bunch of other people.  This looked fun to me, and now I am going to do it too.

I even made a cool poster thing for the Facebook invite.

I chose Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh for the event.

This painting draws me into it and almost begs me to become a part of it.  The more I have looked at it in the past few weeks, the more I have wanted it to be hanging on my wall.  I am trusting that the artists at the Theo Art School can walk me through it one brush stroke at a time.

Starry Night is considered a masterpiece, and I doubt many would argue that.  In looking at other works by Van Gogh, we can see his talent as an artist. He was creative,  had a vision to communicate through his art, and carefully crafted the masterpiece.

And the painting – or thinking about the painter really – reminds me of an important truth about myself and my Creator.

Ephesians 2:10 (NLT) – For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.

God – our Creator is creative, has a message to communicate through His creation, and has carefully crafted each of us as a signature piece – a masterpiece.

On Thursday, my post shared some of my overcoming of insecurities about my body shape, type, and size.  While I would like to say that all of that overcoming work is done, the truth is that those very same insecurities – as well as insecurities about my inside world – crop up often.

This happens most often when I forget that I am God’s signature piece.

This happens most often when I forget that I a new creation through Christ Jesus.

This happens most often when I forget that I am God’s masterpiece with a purpose to “do good things He planned for [me] long ago.”

My insecurities about my inside world inform my insecurities about my exterior world and paralyze me…keep me from doing what God intends for me to do – bring glory and honor to Him through serving others and worshiping Him.

However, when I remember who created me and that He created me with a purpose, my insecurities need to go by the wayside.  If I am focusing on doing the good things He planned for me, I have no time to give to insecurities.  And when they creep in themselves (as they so often do, right?), my focus can scare them away.

So – to all you masterpieces who have allowed yourselves to be hidden in the basement of a museum somewhere (like I often find myself doing), it is time to dust ourselves off and to start allowing others to see the brilliance of our Creator through us.

**artwork attribution is Vincent Van Gogh – there are loads of images of his works around the internet!

Reflections on 2014

As I look back on 2014, I realize that God is always up to something.

A year ago today, my family was in Austria. As a send off to the kids during their graduation year, we had booked a crazy Christmas and New Year’s trip to Rome, Venice, Munich, and Vienna. The locations were chosen based on what we each wanted to experience if we were only able to go to Europe once.  Let me just say that every location was a great choice, and we had great seats for most of it.

As others are thinking about changes and resolutions, I have no time for that. I have had my share of changes for a while and look forward to some stability in 2015.  So – as I think back on 2014 and look into 2015, I thought I would share the top things that I learned this year.  I hope that they resonate with you and encourage you in some way.

One: Transition is a good teacher. Although I have experienced a lot of transition in my life, I have not experienced so many transitions all at once like I did in 2014.  I had three different jobs, lived in two different houses, watched my kids graduate from high school and then leave for college, and experienced a huge shift in the huz’s ministry.  When I thought that my brain might explode from keeping all of the details together in August, I took deep breaths, thanked God for His sustaining grace, and woke up each day ready to conquer it.  I learned so much about myself, my parenting, and my marriage.

Two: I love my family.  The four of us book-ended 2014 with time together as just the four of us. This was slightly intentional but also just happened. It’s hard to spend time with others when you fly off to Europe!  Although we love our extended families on both sides, we also love time as just the four of us.  We like the same games, the same television shows, and the same food. We finish each other’s sentences, laugh at ourselves (and each other), and work hard as a unit when necessary.  I am very aware that these times may be fewer in the coming years, so I am holding on to 2014 with a firm grip.

Three: Empty-nesting does not ruin your life. Several friends who have gone through this stage in front of me told me that I would be just fine, and I believed them…but I still doubted and mourned as well.  Once I returned from my trip to see the kids in October, I knew they were really fine at Baylor University. And shortly after that, I realized that I was not only surviving but thriving.  While I looked forward to their return for break with great anticipation, I am not crying as I realize that they leave again in just over a week.  They have their lives to live; we have our lives to live.  When all of the lives intersect, we are super happy.  But I refuse to stop living during the times in between.

Four: God is good. I could re-count some of the thoughts that I have shared over the past few months on the blog, but I won’t.  To summarize: God is good all the time.  He turns my mourning into dancing. He leads me beside still waters.  And He restores my soul.  Without God’s action in my life and the hope that comes with knowing He desires for me to live abundantly, I would not know where to begin.  In the dark times of doubt and chaos, I know He is there.  And He brings me clear reassurance to show me that I am in His will right now.  That is amazing.

I have no idea what 2015 will bring. I have some guesses; however, based on 2014 and its life-changing events, I think I might be willing to say that I cannot control 2015 with any certainty.  The one thing that I do know is that I cannot go wrong if I look to God as my guide for what to do and how to do it.

As we ring in 2015, let us all remember to be still for a moment and acknowledge God’s goodness to us – whether in the small things or in the big things.

 

Right is Rarely Easy

We arrived to the Sunday evening campus mass earlier than usual so that I could briefly meet with one of my writing students.  After my meeting with the student, the huz and I still had plenty of time before mass.  The hallway outside of the chapel was mostly empty, and we decided to go in and sit down in the mostly empty sanctuary.

I closed my eyes, tried to empty my mind of the busy things that invaded my thoughts, and talked to God a bit about my continued mixed feelings about His call on our lives and the upsetting of the apple cart that we continued to sense even three months into the adventure.  With Thanksgiving weekend approaching, we have travel plans that include family in one part of the state and friends in another state – our former home.  In July, I spent a weekend with and Excel spreadsheet and websites such  Travelocity and Expedia searching for the best ticket prices.  Our kids fly into one airport and out of another thanks to our attempt to provide all four of us with a touch of something that means home.

Home is not yet Bismarck, ND, for our whole family. I will admit that Bismarck is growing on me quite a bit.  I think that my huz would say the same, but I hesitate to speak for him.  God worked out the details for a house that is beyond what I could have hoped given the current housing market in North Dakota’s booming economy.  We are thankful for the existing friendships that we had before our arrival, and many new friendships grow as we meet people through our various roles.  Everyone is very welcoming on the University of Mary campus, in our new church, and in our neighborhood.

Clicks on the cement floor of the chapel and rustling of people around me blend with my thoughts as others enter the chapel for mass.  As it gets closer to the start of the service, these sounds interrupt my thoughts more and more. I opened my eyes and turned my head to see the sanctuary that had filled nearly to capacity around me.  My breath still catches at the sight of students and others on their knees on the cement floor (no kneelers) with eyes closed as they prepare for the service.  On Monday, I joined several of those in attendance in a hustle and bustle of a college campus as we raced from class or to eat lunch at the cafeteria.  In that silent moment in the chapel on Sunday evening, though, we were quiet, calm, and hopeful.

The organ interrupted all of our contemplations and prayers with the lead in to “Crown Him With Many Crowns.”  The service bulletin informed us that Sunday was known in the liturgical calendar as “The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.”  I grew up attending Mendenhall Presbyterian  Church in East Grand Forks, ND, so I am no stranger to the repetitive liturgical cycle.  I think someone was pretty clued in tot he fact that we humans need repetition.  We forget things that someone told us only moments ago.  As media bombards us with more and more information, there is less and less information in our head. The liturgical calendars helps us annually celebrate and remember the same basic truths that we celebrated and remembered last year.

Throughout the service, we sing, we pray, we hear Scripture read, and we sing some more.  Each time I have attended the campus mass since moving to Bismarck in August, I have been impressed by the singing of that particular week’s Psalm.  The leader teaches the congregations the first verse of the Psalm, and then he or she sings other parts of the Psalm while the organ holds the chord.  The congregation joins again as the leader signals us to do so.

This week, we sang Psalm 23.  We repeatedly sang, “The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.”   It reminded me that God watches over me, He cares for me, and that He plans for me here in Bismarck.  Nowhere else in Bismarck can remind me of why we moved as much as attending Sunday evening mass on campus.  All around me are students who – without anyone pushing them to attend mass or taking attendance – freely attend mass…some of them daily.

When I ponder this, though, I am reminded that we were not called to minister to the students who attend mass with me. They have a lot ministry for them here already: daily masses, a priest as a chaplain, missionaries from the Catholic faith who provide Bible studies for them, and the sisters who live right down the hill from the very chapel in which I sit for mass.  My huz’s role is complicated and complex as he helps to bring a similar spiritual life experience to the non-Catholic Christian students, faculty, and staff on campus.

Last night, Campus Ministries (one of my huz’s departments) hosted a “Students and Sisters” Thanksgiving meal.  The sisters provided the place; campus ministry staff provided the food.  Fun was had by all.  Prior to the meal, I had a conversation with a sister who is edging toward retirement. She told me of her past roles on campus and her current passions.  As we talked, she shared with me that she will not call Protestants by that name; rather, she refers to non-Catholics as those from other denominations.  I was so moved by her heart for the non-Catholic students on campus and the encouragement that she provided me through that conversation.

Monsignor James Shea, president of University of Mary and a personal friend from our college days, presided over the mass on Sunday and gave the homily.  He appeared burdened by the message as he gave it.  He stressed over and over again that Christ, King of the Universe, desires to be the ruler of hearts, minds, and lives. Choosing to follow Christ’s call on our lives will not be easy, but it will bring order and purpose to our lives.

Following God’s call on our lives to Bismarck, ND, was not easy. Staying in Minneapolis with our friends who had become family to minister together would have been the easy choice.  It might have even felt really good.  But coming to Bismarck was in answer to a clear call to something unique and unusual.  There is a need here, and God chose my huz – well, both of us it often seems – to help with that need. God has provided order and purpose to our lives in this call. It is not easy, and my eyes still often leak. Something this unique and unusual would not be easy.  But it is good.

 

In All of It, God is Good

Six weeks ago, our church threw us a going away party. It was an unbelievable experience.  Although my huz has been a youth pastor and a Christian education director prior to this position, Faith Baptist Church was his first full-time senior pastor position. This church took us in, made us family, raised us as a pastor and wife, helped us to raise our children, and loved us.  The worship pastor and a buddy sang a “roasting song” (click here to watch it) for us. We laughed. We cried. Along with the other kind words that were shared that night, this song allowed us to remember the great times and sent us off to our new adventure well.

In the leaving and the sending, God is good.

Almost a month ago, I flew to Texas with my son to catch up with my daughter who had driven there the week before. In a whirlwind trip, we moved them into their dorm rooms, shopped at Target, and bought groceries.  As I drove away, my eyes leaked a lot even though I knew that this new adventure is a great move for them. We already have plans to see them for friends’ wedding in November and again at Thanksgiving.  Even though they are far away, plans to see them seem to make the time go faster.

In the leaving and the going, God is good.

I started a new job before I left for Texas. This new online high school with its twenty students has bolstered my spirits. Something new in the something new has helped me a lot. They started school the Tuesday before Labor Day.  On the same day, I welcomed two classes of freshmen in college who struggle with writing into my classes at the University of Mary.  Most of these students are hard workers who just need a little guidance in their writing.  In their journals, they share their lives with me.

In the arriving, God is good.

On the first day of school, I was tired and wanted to go to bed early.  I had so much to do, and my house was still in chaos (ps: it still is! Moving is really rough!).  The phone rang mid-afternoon, and my huz invited me to join him on the Campus Ministry riverboat cruise on the Missouri River.  I was thrilled to join these college students who love Jesus and want to get to know each other as well as the leadership of this department. There was food, fellowship, and fun.  I skipped the “Get to Know You” Bingo game so that I could make the rounds, fill in squares, and really get to know the kids.  Because several of them had ridden in my car on the way to the cruise, I knew several of their names before getting on the boat with them. Once on the boat, I felt welcomed by them. It is fun to be a part of the huz’s work in this way; it reminds me of being a pastor’s wife. I guess some things never change.

In the new ministries we have, God is good.

The huz has been asked to preach a few Sundays this fall in various churches.  I already miss hearing my man in the pulpit each week even though we have only been in Bismarck for two Sunday services.  I am thankful that God appears to want to continue to use the huz in this way to help churches in our area.

In the new ways we are called to minister, God is good.

One of the new routines in our lives is to attend the Sunday evening Catholic service on campus. A couple hundred students attend the service each week, and it is a good way to stay connected to them.  I see a couple of my own students each week as well. At first, I thought this would be something that I would “just do” as it has not been part of my faith walk to attend Catholic services each week.  However, I am drawn to the contemplative nature of these services.  In the many moments of silence during the service, I feel found.

In the new practices we have discovered, God is good.

My eyes leak – a lot – these days. There is so much new, so much change, and so much we have not found yet. I have decided to attend a women’s retreat this weekend at Crystal Springs Baptist Camp. This is the place where the huz and I met so many years ago. I have not been back since the summer of 2003.  I admitted to the huz last night that I am feeling a bit of anticipation stress about attending. I know a lot of the people who are going, but the 2014 version of Stacy is different than the 2003 version…or even the 1992 version! A lot has happened. I am a different person…well, so are they!  Right?

In the petty concerns of my day, God is good.

My Facebook feed tells me of concerns of others: families facing losses, families in crisis, families who want to adopt children from corrupt countries with corrupt systems, individuals who struggle with mental illness, individuals who need jobs…all of these concerns can overwhelm me even from a distance – what must the concerns be like for those going through them?

In the big concerns of our days, God is good.

Psalm 100:5 – For the LORD is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.

Amen.

Hymns, Harmonies, and Holes in Our Hearts

I just awoke from a mini-dream at the end of my sleep cycle.  I have these after I have been awake once in the morning but have chosen to try to squeeze in a bit more sleep.  The dream was literally a small scene, but  the thoughts that followed upon my waking led me to believe that I was meant to get up and write this post.

The dream was a quick conversation with my younger brother (also a Sioux hockey fan for those who care) who is married with two young boys. The conversation occurred on the phone as if I had just called him this morning. I do not know what we had been talking about on the phone, but it was clear that we had been having a lengthy conversation. 

The dream included his one phrase at what appeared to be the end of the conversation. 

He said, “I can’t really think about any of that today  You know it’s mom’s birthday, right?”

And then I woke up.

Today would be my mom’s 64th birthday.  I have written in the past about her birthday and do not want to go on and on too long (I do have to leave for Sunday School in about an hour, and I have not showered yet); however, blogging on her birthday seems to help me experience it. 

It also seems that when I wake up with something to blog about (today is the second time this has happened in week – muse is back?), I must blog about it in order to get that blog out of my head.

And – I have now realized that there are oodles of us out there…grievers, that is…and blog posts that recognize our grief tend to help us grieve.  And we need help!  We can read all of the books in the world on the topic, but nothing helps us grieve better than a shared experience…someone else’s grief that touches us a little bit and allows us to grieve our loved ones (and have a little cry even) through the grief of the loss of another’s loved one.

But I digress…as usual…

The fact that mom’s birthday falls on a Sunday this week catches me off guard a bit.

Through some strange twist of cosmic comedy, I agreed to co-teach a Sunday School class at our church during the winter/spring…which, by the way, is exactly what March in Minnesota should be called on the “season chart” – winter/spring (it really can’t decided).

The focus is on hymns – why we love them as they are written, what is the good theology in them, and how we might write our own hymn (minus the music in most of our cases!).

Although I do not know if the Doxology was one of my mom’s favorite hymns, it was probably the one that she knew the best.  As a Presbyterian for most of her life, she sang the Doxology during nearly every service as the offering was brought forward after the collection in order to offer it to God through prayer.

Though simple in its words, the hymn’s theology dives deep into what I believe about who God is: He is God in three persons and worthy of my praise because all blessings flow from His good graces despite that I deserve His wrath due to my sinful nature.

As a child and teenager, I often stood between my mom and her mom on Sunday mornings as we sang this song – three generations in three part harmony in the midst of a larger congregation.  It is a photograph in my mind’s eye that reminds me that my faith has a heritage and is part of a larger community of believers within the church and throughout the world.

That mind picture – and the song itself – also reminds me of the holes in my heart carved out by grief and loss. 

When my mom passed away in June 2003, I was amazed at how well my grandmother – her mom – dealt with it.  Though I am sure she had her share of tears in private, she was strong in the midst of it….at least that is how I remember it.  She kept going to work every day, going to the senior center to play Bingo and cards with her friends, and watching the Twins on TV. 

At one point, she did say that a mother should not outlive her children. 

That is a good observation, Grammy-cakes!

When my daughter and I would visit Grand Forks together, we would often take Gram to her church.  We would stand together – three generations again – and sing harmonies together.  I am quite sure that mom would have added her fourth part along with us had she been alive, and it would have been fun…if not amazing.

As time goes on, death – that unwelcome visitor – finds each of us…at our own doorstep or at our hearts because he stands at the doorsteps of others.  He found my gram at the end of May last year, and I added another hole in my heart.

She would have been 90 in February, and I noted her birthday with a wee nod in my mind.

I have thought of her quite a bit more now that the Twins are in spring training…

And so we mourn, grieve, cry, and scream because things are not as they should be.  We hide ourselves away from the world or go on but stuff it all away or just wonder if things will ever be the same (they will not be) or right again (I am not even sure what that means…).

We even wonder if God cares – how could He if He allows these things to happen?

The answer is that God cares very much. 

We are reminded of that in this Lenten season as well as at other times of the year.  God cares, sees, and cries with us.  He promises that we do not mourn without hope.  And – like the community that God Himself has in the trinity – He created us to be in community…to experience love, hope, joy, and even loss in community with one another.

He is, indeed, worthy of our praise.

Other posts about mourning that might interest you:

• Empty Chairs at Full Tables
• Grief Pangs
• Do We Have DeathDays?
• Loss is Tragic

When Acting Hits Home

Sometimes my former career as actress extraordinaire comes around again.  Ok – I will be honest: though I did perform some minor roles in plays and musicals, that all went by the wayside by the end of high school. Though I have considered entering that world again, it scares the living daylights out of me.

The worship minister at our church leads a monthly worship experience on the second Sunday of each month.  He had asked the pastor huz to do some kind of monologue related to the name of the service – Jacob’s Well – which comes from John 4, a passage that details an encounter that Jesus had with a Samaritan woman of questionable character.

Last night – as an introduction to his monologue from the perspective of the man to whom the woman would return after encountering Jesus who tells her that He knows about her past – the huz and I did a little “what if” sketch which portrays how we thought things might have gone upon her return after talking to Jesus.

He played the man, and I played the woman at the well. 

In the sketch, I woke him up to tell him all about what Jesus had said to me.  I wanted to share the good news that Jesus had shared with me.  Rather than listen to me or come with me to hear Jesus talk, the man refused, became physically abusive toward me, and threw me out of the house while screaming at me.

Leave!  Whore! How could anyone ever forgive you? No one will ever forgive you!

As I ran away from him, hot (real)  tears streamed down my face.  What horrible words to have screamed at you!  What a horrible question: how could anyone every forgive you?

When we meet Christ, our lives may not change immediately.  And those around us do not forget who we were before we met Christ.  Everyone still knows what we have been, how we lived, what we have done…and now they watch to see if our lives change. 

We meet Christ at a some “well”, we have a life changing experience.  Though we would like to stay there, with Him seeing us for who we are but telling us about eternal life anyway, we have to go back to our homes and our situations.  As our sketch portrayed, the woman probably went back to the man who was not her husband. He knew what she was. She might have been “bought” or enslaved to him. How could her life change? What miracles did God have to perform after she met Jesus so that she could pursue a changed life?

What “names” followed her back to her life?

What names follow us back to ours?

It does not matter what I have done, God’s mercy and grace await me.  Though I may have some horrible label on me, God washes that label away through the life saving power of Christ’s death and resurrection.  Because of what Christ did, I am free from my guilt, saved from my sins, and promised eternal live with Him.

By the end of my man’s fictional monologue, the man begins to wonder about Jesus and His offer of forgiveness to the woman at the well.  He says, “If He can forgive her, maybe He can forgive me.”

He can.  He does.  And it is true – for me…and for you.

PS:  Toward the end of the service, we sang Softly and Tenderly, one of my favorite hymns. You can listen to its entirety below.  The refrain of the hymn says, “Come home, you who are weary, come home.” 

This is not about coming home at the end of our lives. This is now.  Jesus is waiting for us to come home to Him so that He can show us mercy and pardon for the wrongs that we have – and continue to – commit. 

Is it time to go home?

I do not have any rights to this video. Thank you, YouTube!

photo credit: Bhumika.B via photopin cc