it's all coming together

i'm hitting pause on the final details check. (this weekend is our annual CONNECT Conference.) you'd think i'd be frantic. i thought i'd be frantic but instead i'm shouting "yay God!" it's an internal shout...i'm typically only loud during competition or "no he didn't" sorts of conversations. it's also an internal shout because i'm tired, physically exhausted, and wondering how in the world i'm going to make it through the week without getting sick. minor details.


i'm hitting pause so that i can write all this down and hopefully increase my chances of remembering it. because today will come again: the day before the big day, the day before the major decision, the day before the day when all ideas become realities (or get tossed out due to delays, forgetfulness, train wrecks and/or Holy Spirit movements). i must remember this. the mental peace.
it's actually one of my chore values so whenever i experience it, i try to celebrate it and whenever i've gone a long time without it, i begin to withdraw. and the best sort of peace seems to be this sort, where statistically speaking, it just shouldn't be. but it is. hence my praise. 


God is awesome. 


i used to think that i didn't like details, just big-picture dreaming. even yesterday, i had that conversation with someone, made that declaration. but just a few minutes ago, i changed my tune. i do like details. what i don't like is not having enough time to move through them slowly and perfectly. (recovering perfectionist alert!) so here i am, the day before CONNECT begins, sitting at my desk and typing up a final run sheet. i'm enjoying the movements from line to line through what's becoming an extensive/seemingly obsessive excel file. i'm excited about the possibility that others who read the sheet will also like details and soak them up. and then i'm sort of saddened by the reality that some won't really read it...and they'll ask questions that the sheet answers. but that's minor.


the best part is this: God keeps showing me daily that when things are done by His leading & for His glory, they work out no matter how complex and time consuming they may be. whatever i need to remember, He brings to mind (His part). i jot it down and do it (my part). and i have a feeling that by the end of today, all lose ends will be tied. but if not, all will still be well. it will all come together. the details remind me that God is with me, working it all out. 


this is life. this is ministry. these are uncharted waters. 

commitment

a fellow campus chaplain and i were talking earlier today about how hard it is to get our students to commit to things (especially far in advance).* it's another challenge to add to the "what in the world" list. no worries, there is no actual list that we avidly monitor. the mere thought of starting such a list just adds stress to my brain. it's just that we want our students to happily jump on board and stay on board without first knowing that 5 of their friends are jumping, too. we also want them to stay on board whether or not their 5 friends stay. it may come as a surprise that so many of my conversations with campus chaplains revolve around student commitment.

and as i've made a practice of lately, whenever something i see in someone else begins to bother me, i ask myself when last i did that very same thing. so self, when were you last weary of commitment? when did you last make sure that your friends were on board before saying yes to something? huh, self? when? don't act like you're immune from such behavior, you goodie-two-shoes!

okay. pep talk. check. memory of noncommittal moment. well...see i have a full time job, i'm married, and i'm trying to live well. it's pretty much in my best interest to say no to things. not committing = time to breathe. and maybe that's how my students feel. after all, research shows that college students today are much busier than generations before.

or at least i think i've heard that. there's so much info being tossed around, stats here there and everywhere. perhaps my generation grew up so ridiculously independent; we're the latch-keys. no wonder we don't understand those who've grown up with parents, the connotations of which are plenty (on both sides of that sentence)...

i guess the plus side is that i'm not alone? oh, these uncharted waters...


*students, we love you...we just don't understand you and it's hard for us to think that perhaps we were once reluctant committers, too. in fact, we don't think we were. be patient with us, pls!

unexpected love

so i bought some roses this morning, a last-minute decision, and encouraged students to hand them out on this love-celebration-day. by 5pm, there were still many roses left so i took some and decided to hand them out randomly to women on campus. it was priceless.

encounter 1 (sitting on a bench)
would you like a rose? 
oh, thank you!


encounter 2 (sidewalk pedestrian)
would you like a rose?
yes please! (how cute)


encounter 3 & 4 (sidewalk pedestrians)
would you like a rose?
3 said: oh yes!
4 said: are they free? (a funny yet sad commentary on our culture)


encounter 5 (desk worker)
happy valentines day! (didn't give her a choice; placed it on the counter and walked away...hehe)
thank you!

encounter 6 (cleaning lady)
happy valentines day! (didn't give her a choice either; just gave it to her--she deserves it most!)
oh thank you, baby. (favorite!)


and the moral of the story = people need more unexpected love...do this more often!

how new phones help you grieve

i'm not unique and i'm not exactly jumping over the moon. yay. 3 cheers. i have an iphone. and upon receipt of my latest gadget/upgrade, i proceeded to complete what i should have completed weeks ago...transfer all my contacts to my laptop. i didn't upgrade from one smart phone to another but from a rather dull (yet trusty) phone to a smart one. the dull phone had no simple way of exporting contacts to my laptop. thankfully the process wasn't 1/2 as tedious as i thought i'd be. a quick cut and paste to excel from my online list and a .csv file-save made the switch pretty painless. except for two moments...when i deleted two names from my list. and not because i don't like them (i actually loved them both). i deleted them because both men are dead.

one has been dead a year and a half already. the second is just going on ten months. and every time i've scrolled passed their names on route to another, i've asked, "what are you holding on to?"

right after each one died, the mere thought of deleting their names felt disrespectful. never before has a cell phone contact died, you know what i mean? i don't even know what pre cell phone equivalent to compare that with. when Joshua died, i wanted to make sure i didn't somehow forget him. i also have his parent's number. i called them to verify the facebook post...that's how we find out about death these days.

and then there's Matthew. (sidenote: i'm not trying to be formal; i don't typically shorten ppl's names.) it took me a long time to even delete the last text message i'd sent him. "are you alive?" no reply. hours later i heard the news. car crash. i hold on to stupid reminders of him. a cup of coins and receipts he left. a little plastic bottle from a tribute at his funeral.

pressing delete was letting go, living in the reality that they're not coming back, that there are other ways to remember.

my Aunt G died the day before Matthew. she was 90-something. her husband's still alive. i still have him listed in my phone as "the Gordons." i didn't know how to edit that today. all i could think of was, "i don't want to take off the s."

these are uncharted waters.

a sanctuary poem

[set to Tenebrae: Second Movement performed by Kronos Quartet]

Reminder number one:
walk slowly. Steps matter
Smoke rises to greet the sky
afraid. Is it enough?

I sat on the floor today
Carpet circa 1995
Tough grey-brown, bland #11
Comfortless reliability stretched for meters around my exhausted frame
Lean brown-skinned girl, twisted locks set ponytail-like
Legs crossed. Elbows propping head in hands

What now?
Two words linger in the mulberry scented apartment air of unanswered questions
While the winter wind carries the tear-filled scream of an
ill-mannered child through my non-storm windows
Shut up dad!
Children these days. When did they get so…so…

Reminder number two:
quiet. This, a holy
sacrificial moment...
wait. Come one at a time.

The last yellow-orange teardrop quickly dies
Another offering accepted, grey haze hovering lightly above what once had
Breath in
Breath out
Now in sacred posture, hushed tones.

I’ve grown accustomed to this rhythm
Become familiar with this daily walk through what’s gone wrong
Never perfect except when perfectly not what He asked for…
again
A clear picture of blood disconnected from Life

Reminder number three:
apologize. Honest workers needed
apologize for unplugging yourself
for not dwelling in the present

I said sorry
Did He hear me?
I know…bible + prayer = growth
a kindergarten special that I stopped singing when I outgrew action songs
long legged stretch marks begat skepticism and skepticism begat an unconscious desire to shrink

but I’m different now
And I said I’m sorry
Did He hear me?
No thunder
No feeling
Everything sits still
Even time

Did he hear my confession?
The words “I don’t want to live like this anymore”
The prayer “Help me!”
I call but hear no response

Reminder number four:
no veil. no distance.
approach boldly…because you can.

I said, did You hear me?
Did you take my apology seriously, noting the head bowed and eyes closed, knees connecting with ground for what seemed like hours?
Did you feel my sincerity even though we’ve been through this before—me the altar call addict, You the Ever Patient?
Do you (really) accept me as I am, too broken to ever be
whole, too selfish to ever bring a complete sacrifice?

Reminder number five:
Assurance
You take this lifeless form
Breathe in
Breathe out
daily praying, interceding
Father forgive her…she just doesn’t know…yet

Then you press rewind
head back
daily revealing
Angels see…my grace has been sufficient

Reminder number six:
Great is Your faithfulness
God, You’re my Father
Mine

You’ve done all you can so that I’ll talk with You
and walk with You
so that I’ll never think to stop
Eden will be home forever

You’re always reminding me to listen, to really hear You
not just throw words at You
expecting white rabbits and plastic roses in return
imitators have been banished

Reminder number seven:
No need to be afraid
It is finished
I can be saved if I choose…
If I choose to stay your child
If I choose to worship
If I choose to believe

it’s 4% intellectual ascent. 104% faith…or thereabouts…so it seems
Just to believe that you want me, here, now
Dark glass and all
Cross-burnt hatred and all
Simmering rage and all
Perfection is a lost coin
I’ve just commenced the search

Meanwhile You’ve found me
Dusty at best
And You want to keep me
and I think You’re crazy
but if crazy saves
If crazy saves
I’ll take it…

stuff i forget to write about

i read a utmost devotional that messed my head up in a really great way the other day. i was particular struck by the words "Until others learn to draw on the life of the Lord Jesus directly, they will have to draw on His life through you. You must literally be their source of supply, until they learn to take their nourishment from God." and somehow it calmed me down, put things into better perspective, and freed me...to minister. 

***

i don't often know how to stop. it reminds me of a conversation i had a couple years ago with my Uncle G. i asked him (at 80-something) when he was going to slow down. he's still pastoring a local church. he said, "slow down? i've stopped." but he hadn't. i saw him again about a year later and he was sick, in hospital, and when my family went to visit his elders had just left. they'd had a meeting. "stopped" my foot! 

and now i see how it's possible to get to 80-something and not stop. after all, God's got work for me to do. right? well yes. sometimes. and at other times God's got rest for me to receive unless there's a crisis. and truly, those are few.

trouble is that when i do stop, i veg. instead of basking in the beauty of, um, i can't even remember what they're called. honestly, i'm experiencing memory loss. what do you call those things you do in your spare time? all that's coming to mind is chores, but i know that's far from what i mean. you know, the fun stuff. Dear Lord, what's my life coming to! (i'm not even making this up folks. there's a word. what is it??)

[close eyes. think.]

HOBBIES! thank you! 

okay, so instead of enjoying hobbies, i veg. i play sudoku or aimlessly surf facebook which is somehow vastly more fascinating than the entier world wide web within which it lies.  i wish i knew how to switch gears better. i should have been writing over an hour ago.

***

listening to one of my favorite songs--"tenebrae: 2nd movement" by the kronos quartet. it reminds me of a poem i wrote in seminary about the sanctuary. it gives me such peace, the song-poem combo. i should read it again.

what am i doing here?

sometimes i doubt that i'm doing my job well. the skeptics, the know-it-alls, the stakeholders, their opinions and my own insecurities clutter my mind and i end up overwhelmed. frozen. unable to move on to the next best thing, i find myself in a familiar posture--sitting at my desk, head in hands, eyes leaking. but that's only after i've finally decided that aimlessly browsing facebook is not a healthy coping skill. i hate feeling so weak. and yes, even in 2011, i equate tears with weakness, with the inability to handle unknowns. and every time i cry, i mentally beat myself up a little. helpless.

that was me the other day, in my office of all places. and in walked a student.

great. i hoped she'd think i was deep in prayer and swiftly leave. but she didn't. she stood beside me until i lifted up my head. then she bent down, hugged me, said, "i love you michaela," then asked what was wrong to which i explained that all i want to do is help them know God, know that He loves them and surrender to His love and that sometimes it's really hard to believe that's happening...

i'm surprised at how passionately i spoke yet i'm so glad that the passion is real and that i had no desire to hold back. i could have given in to my pride. it would have been far more "appropriate" to be stoic and lie. "my allergies are bad today..." after all, who in her right mind confesses weakness to the person she's supposed to serve?

God's grown me, to say the least. so i shared my heart and my student shared hers, the struggles she has to take the leap of faith she knows she should take... we talked and talked and the "what am i doing here?" moment that i'd previously experienced turned into "this is what it's all about--thank You God!"

we didn't solve all her problems. she didn't cry out, "baptize me now!" and that's absolutely fine. and it's not as if that's what i've been expecting to happen as i chaplain but it's indicative of the clearer journey i often wish i could experience, the grand ideal where everything falls into place immediately, all the time and the outward manifestations of spiritual growth that are undeniably clear. it would be nice. it would also be the biggest ego trip of my life. and somehow, even though it hurts, i think i'd rather experience more "what am i doing here?" moments...they always lead to a divine appointment. nothing else quite compares to when God shows up.

these are uncharted waters...