"I don't know what I believe until I preach it."

An episcopal scholar and priest said those words when she spoke to one of my classes this semester. I haven't been able to get it out of my head ever since, perhaps because I am finding it increasingly true for myself as well. I've always considered myself an "verbal processor," which is to say that I like to think through things and arrange my thoughts by explaining it to someone else. (Side note: this provides me with another opportunity to realize just how lucky I am to be married to my husband. He is the one most frequently tapped to be my conversation partner, and he patiently agrees despite the fact that he'd probably like to do something besides listen to me ramble).

And perhaps this has stuck with my all the more since graduate education has this important but frankly disconcerting tendency to disorient you, to cause you to question. I'm thankful for this . . . most days. But occasionally I nearly long to return to a time when I didn't have SO MANY questions, if such a time ever actually existed. I long some days to lose the awareness that things are not as simple as I once thought and that life, ministry, relationships, and faith are inherently beautiful and magnificently complicated. I long for a time when I (mistakenly thought) I had it all figured out. (Side note: I don't really want to regress. I really don't. But some days, especially days at the end of long semesters like this one, it appeals to my tired self).

Next semester I'll be teaching a freshman Bible course over the life of Jesus. And so I'll have the perfect opportunity to work out for myself again what I believe, since three days a week I will face a class of forty and "preach it," so to speak. In preparation for that, I hope to post some preliminary thoughts, ramblings, and ruminations here. A test run of sorts.

And today, I take heart in knowing that Jesus sent out people to preach the gospel who weren't always sure what they believe and who weren't always right. Otherwise, I'm not sure how many of us would qualify. I am sure I wouldn't.

Golden Oldies

I have always held a special place in my heart for the older hymns of my childhood. Perhaps there is some level of nostalgia involved. Still, one of the reasons they resonate so deeply with me is that I frequently find more theological richness in them than the 7-11 (seven words, eleven times) songs I am familiar with. With some, like the one below, I find a refreshing acknowledgment of the Christian community, which seems quite opposed to more contemporary verses like "He took the fall, and thought of ME above all." I appreciate a balance between the two, if for no other reason than it seems, well, more biblical.

Occasionally, I'll have a song pop into my head and hang out a while, often one that I have not sung in years. The amazing thing is that the reason for the presence of that song with me usually becomes clear in a few days, becoming remarkably applicable or comforting in a situation that arises. I found myself humming this song, "Father Hear the Prayer We Offer" just over a week ago. Within a couple of days, I was powerfully reminded again of the difficulty and occasional pain so often a part of a minister's life. I was reminded again of the difficulty of the path I am on, one that I walk by a clear and inescapable calling. And in this song I found challenge and comfort - challenge to pray not for ease or comfort but for courage and strength. Comfort in knowing that the Father, whose power is made perfect in weakness will be by the side of those who serve him.

Father, hear the prayer we offer:

Nor for ease that prayer shall be,
But for strength, that we may ever
Live our lives courageously.

Not forever by still waters
Would we idly, quiet stay;
But would smite the living fountains
From the rocks along our way.

Be our strength in hours of weakness,
In our wanderings be our Guide;
Through endeavor, failure, danger,
Father, be Thou at our side.

Let our path be bright or dreary,
Storm or sunshine be our share;
May our souls in hope unweary
Make Thy work our ceaseless prayer.

Our "Downfall"

You may have seen the show, or at least the previews, but there is a new game show for the summer called "Downfall." The basic premise of the show is simple. The contestant answers questions in order to win cash and prizes, which are placed on a conveyor belt on top of a 100 story building. When the questions start, so does the conveyor belt. If the contestant fails to answer the questions quickly enough, the prizes and eventually the cash fall over the edge of the building and crash on the pavement below.

I watched for about 10 minutes before I became so disgusted I had to change the channel.

The way the game was set up, it is essentially impossible to answer the questions fast enough to prevent prizes from plummeting. Which means that in every round, perfectly good items are demolished, all for the sake of a little "excitement." So while people on the other side of town, not to mention much poorer countries in the world, lack basic necessities -- we are throwing things off the top of buildings for the sake of game show novelty.

This is hardly the only example of consumerism and self absorption run rampant in our culture, but it strikes me as a particularly flagrant one. For what right do we have to throw our resources after things we intend to throw off a building when there are so many legitimate needs all around us? I can't help but think that mere blocks away from the patch concrete recently covered in tiny fragments of a baby grand piano lives a family who would have food on their table for weeks if they were given the money paid for that piano instead.

This post is a bit more condemnatory than usual, but I think the example of our culture necessitates that as Christians we ask ourselves: Who benefits from our use of resources? Are others served? Is God glorified? Or are our resources directed only toward ourselves?

Hoorah!!!

This morning, Tim did his final presentation for his masters in Organizational and Human Resource Development. Not only did he pass with no revisions - he passed with flying colors!!! The department head told him how impressed he was with Tim's performance and what a great candidate and student he was.

I'm am so proud of my husband I could pop!!!

Whose terms?

Every once and a while I read a book that leaves me speechless. Thomas R. Kelly's Testament of Devotion did just that. I could write fifteen posts about convicting parts of this book, but one in particular resonated with me as I came to the conclusion of what was the most difficult semester of my academic career thus far.

Life is meant to be lived from a Center, a divine Center. Each of us can life such a life of amazing power and peace and serenity, of integration and confidence and simplified multiplicity.

I wanted to stop there. I crave few things more than a little "simplified multiplicity," for it seems that each area of my life has me wearing eight different hats. My ministry job has me working in several almost unrelated directions, all of which I do enjoy. I just finished four very different graduate classes. I work two different part time jobs. Then of course, are my two most important roles: child of God and wife to my husband. I would love a little "simplified multiplicity."

The only problem is that Kelly does not stop there, going on to say the following:

. . . confidence and simplified multiplicity, on one condition -- that is, if we really one to. There is a divine Abyss within us all, a holy Infinite Center, a Heart, a Life who speaks in us and through us to the world . . . only at times have we submitted to His holy guidance. We have not counted this Holy Thing within us to be the most precious thing in the world. We have not surrendered all else, to attend to it alone. Let me repeat. Most of us, I fear, have not surrendered all else, in order to attend to the Holy Within.

I want simplicity and serenity in my busy life on my terms. As Kelly reminds me, it is only truly found on God's.

At some point in the semester I began to feel like a car heading too fast into the final curve, veering around the corner on two wheels hoping to land right side up - and without having lost any speed. At the end of each graduate semester I ask my husband how he thought it went - in terms of our life together and my ability to gracefully juggle all that I have taken on. This semester we agreed that I could probably do it all again in the fall - but we agreed to spend the summer praying about whether or not "I can" means that "I should."

So this summer will be spent asking: Do I engage the work I do, at the pace I do, because it honors me or honors God? Is there a more God honoring way to engage my work and life? This may not resonate with you as it does with me. But for all of us, our futures, our world, our work . . . everything, should be viewed in light of our primary commitment to living lives centered in God and His purposes.

I hope you too find lives of God-centered simplicity and wholeness.

If you can't beat 'em

I'm currently watching the NFC Championship Game, which at the moment looks to be going to the Vikings or to OT. And, for the first time, I am really, honestly, interested in who wins.

It's not that I didn't grow up around football. Please, no one grows up in Texas completely unfamiliar with what in Texas is THE sport, not even if they spent their entire high school career scurrying between backstage and on stage. I just never cared.

And then . . . I got married.

Everyone has advice for you when they find out you are getting married, some helpful, some less than. So I felt reasonably prepared for the onslaught of adjustments par for the course in navigating the early years of our life together. Football, I have to confess, was not one I anticipated. In retrospect, I probably should have. All the signs were certainly there. But every Sunday . . . for months . . two or three games a day . . . and the occasionally yelling at the TV? Not prepared for that.

So I decided really early on that if it was going to be on TV, I might as well learn all about the game. After a (probably highly annoying) couple of months asking a hundred questions, I got it down. I know what a turnover on downs is. I can match quarterbacks to teams for nearly the entire NFL. I can recognize the motions for the penalties. Heck, I can name most, if not all, of the Cowboys offense - by position!!

And somewhere along the way, my marital adjustment became a new hobby.

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. You may find out you like it!

(Oh, and we're now in OT)

I can explain

To begin with, please note the date of my last post and the date of this one. Secondly, please note that the fall semester extends from . . . mid August to mid December. Apparently 12 hours of graduate level classes, 24-30 hours of associated homework, and 20-22 hours of work does not allot much time for "roaming around in my own mental playground" as my friend Cary so cleverly put it.

So, here we go again. Posts certainly won't be daily, but I plan to shoot for weekly. I think blogging and putting some thoughts down on "paper" will be good for both making sense of all the thoughts rolling around in my head as well as promoting some non-academic thought. And both are greatly needed!!! Besides, I truly do enjoy it (I'm sure a good deal more than others enjoy reading it : )

Here's what is rolling around in my head today.

I discovered yesterday that I'm becoming my father.

I had several errands to run, one of which was to have some lab work done. The lady who works at the lab I use for such delightful errands always seems . . . sad. Or concerned. Or something. But in all my time going there, I don't think I have ever seen her smile. So yesterday I made it my mission to infuse her day with enough cheer to elicit one. I got it, and I left feeling like I accomplished more than a chore on my list.

When I was a kid, Dad used to drive me to school. And nearly every morning we would play the same game - he would spend the entire drive trying to get me to smile. It was as if he considered it his personal mission to have me leave the truck with a smile to start the day. And he always succeeded. Even the one legendary morning when I managed to make him forget the game, I announced my triumph . . . with a smile. I can't count the times when I've seen him go to great lengths to make anyone and everyone smile.

So, I think I'm becoming my father. Looking for every opportunity to share the joy of Christ in ways both big and small. I take no personal credit on this one - I simply follow the example of the master from whom I learned.