Inauguration Day Prayer

This is a prayer I wrote in my journal on Inauguration Day. 

Father God, I pray for our nation. First, I thank you for America and where I was born. We are not perfect, but she has shaped me, giving me opportunities I would not have had in other places or times – You have ordained me to be born here, for such a time as this – you have determined in this country and in this culture that I would find you and follow you.

I pray you will forgive us – for our division, for our treatment of those who are weaker, poorer; those not like us. Forgive us for our greed. Forgive us for demanding our rights and our freedoms but not exercising the compassion or responsibility that comes with it.

Help us to remember while we are all in the same storm, not all of us are in the same boat. Help us to rescue those who are perishing in this storm.

I pray we will come together in unity, not uniformity, understanding we all want what is best for our country though we may disagree on how to get there. May we stop resorting to caricatures and name-calling of those who view things differently. And may we be humble and brave enough to admit when we are wrong. And quick to apologize. May we not question motives but honestly believe the best of people even when we think they do not deserve it.

May critical thinking, truth, kindness, and civility once again rule the day. Help us to do the hard things.

I pray you will continue to bless us spiritually, physically, and economically. Help us to love and respect those who see things differently than us, remembering we all have the imagio dei in us. Help me to live and love like Jesus did…sacrificing His life, laying it down for others. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Church in America: Stop Pointing Your Finger

Today is 5 months since our world changed. 153 days. A global pandemic. It happened so quickly, so suddenly that we are still trying to wrap our mind around what happened. Throw a little racial unrest, a recession, and an election in the midst of it and we have a recipe for chaos.

Like everyone, I have tried to make sense of it all. There is a constant inundation of information. SO MUCH INFORMATION. So much to process.

As I have navigated these choppy waters so many emotions have risen to the surface. I have wrestled with all of them; anger, sadness, fear, frustration…trying to give space to them. I have prayed a lot and tried to give God room to speak to me through His Word. I came off Facebook for the month of July and will continue to limit my time. I have asked myself the following questions:

• What is happening?
• What is God up to?
• How should I respond?
• How should the Church respond?

My prayer for years has been that I would be like the sons of Issachar from the Bible; understanding the times and knowing what to do about it (I Chronicles 12:32 ).

I could write on a myriad of things I believe is happening in our nation and how we got to this tipping point. It has been decades in the making and each of us carries some responsibility for the mess we find ourselves in as a nation. That discussion is for another time, maybe in a discussion group or over a cup of coffee.

What I am writing about is what I believe God is speaking to His Church, what He is speaking to me. If you are someone who calls yourself a Christian, a follower of Jesus I pray this challenges you, convicts you, and gives you hope.

Back in April, during a time of prayer, I went to the book of Hosea – a minor prophet in the Old Testament. Israel was not honoring God – they had slipped, backslidden. As I read this, I felt the words were directly pointed at me and the Church in America.

Hosea 2:20; 4: 1 –

“I will be faithful to you and make you mine and you will finally know me as the Lord…

Hear the Word of the Lord, O people of Israel.

The Lord has brought charges against you, saying:

There is no faithfulness, no kindness, no knowledge of God is in your land –

You make vows and break them;

You kill and steal and commit adultery.

There is violence everywhere –

One murder after another

That is why your land is in mourning and everyone is wasting away.

Even the wild animals, the birds of the sky and the fish of the sea are disappearing –

DON’T POINT YOUR FINGER AT SOMEONE ELSE AND TRY TO PASS the BLAME;

My complaint, you priests, is with you…

My people are being destroyed because they don’t know me. Since you priests refuse to know me, I refuse to recognize you as my priests.”

Ouch. In the New Testament, Peter makes the connection that all believers are now priests under the new covenant (I Peter 2).

Everyone is pointing the finger at each other. The Church is leading the way if social media is any indicator.

Since the beginning of all of this, I have seriously asked the Lord, “Where are the prophets of today? Who is going to challenge the Church? ” Where is the soul searching? The introspection?

How many have asked God, “What are you teaching us? What doe we need to repent of?”

When the shelter in place began in March, I was struck by the areas of our economy that were hit. Going out to eat, sporting events, concerts (just so you know, I had tickets to see Journey this summer and opening day tickets for baseball to see the Indians.) How much of our economy is entertainment? Fun driven? And while all of that is not bad in itself, too much numbs us.

Two-thirds of our economy is driven by consumer spending.

America is a generous nation in so many ways. However, Americans constitute 5% of the world’s population yet consumes 24% of the world’s energy.

And while we say believe in a culture of life, 50 million babies have been aborted since Roe V. Wade. In the wealthiest nation that has ever existed, children still go to bed hungry. And many Christian’s rhetoric about the immigration challenge we face as a nation is heart-breaking. The Bible has a lot to say about how people who represent Jesus on this earth are to treat the alien (immigrant), the orphan, the poor, and the widow (Jeremiah 22:3, Zechariah 7:10, Deuteronomy 10:19, Leviticus 27:19, Matthew 25:35). The most heartbreaking conversations during Covid are people advocating herd immunity. Experts say to achieve that would take close to a million deaths. God help us. Jesus came to give us an abundant life. Life is to be fought for, cherished, fiercely protected from womb to the tomb.

Jesus says He is the Way and the Truth and the Life and that no one comes to the Father except through Him. (John 14:6). If our goal is to be conformed to the image of Christ (Romans 8:29), should we not be people who tell the truth? When we as Christians share on social media as truth something that can be easily disproven, we minimize our witness. The Bible talks about the need to have 2 or 3 witnesses to prove a charge (Deuteronomy 19:15; Matthew 18:16). I see good people, whose reputation gets destroyed by unsubstantiated charges. Fellow believers, please think long and hard before you hit that share button.

Questions I have asked myself over the past 5 months:

1. Who is discipling me? CNN? Fox News? MSNBC? Memes on social media? Conspiracy theorists? Or am I allowing the Word of God to disciple me and inform my world view? Who is discipling you?
2. How much time am I spending in prayer? Have these past 5 months driven you to spend more time with Jesus?
3. Am I where I need to be spiritually? Have I drifted?

What if all of this is not some global conspiracy? What if God is trying to get our attention? And the problem isn’t the “others” but the problem is us?

In the New Testament, Jesus teaches about not putting new wine into old wineskins. The wine would burst the old wineskins and both the wine and the wineskin would be lost.

Many of us have been praying for revival for years. The problem is many of us have a preconceived idea of what it should look like. What if God is using the pandemic (not saying He caused it) to answer our prayer for His Church? What if we need new wineskins? But as someone commented to me the other day; in order for there to be new wineskins, something has to die.

What in your life? In my life? In the life of the Church needs to die?

• Our political allegiance?
• Our greed?
• Our lack of Kindness?
• Our propensity for anger and violence?
• Our insatiable need to always be right?
• Our disregard for human life…from womb to the tomb?

I am still wrestling with all of this. My prayer is God will continue to convict me of things in my life that are not of Him and challenge me to live a life that is continually being conformed to the image of His Son Jesus.

The one thing we all can agree on is something needs to change. As followers of Jesus, let us stop pointing fingers at others, look inward and allow God to convict us so we can  “Repent, then, and turn back, so that your sins may be wiped away,  that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that He may send Jesus, the Christ, who has been appointed for you.…” (Acts 3: 19 – 20).

Social Distancing & God’s Faithfulness

Like many of you, I am trying to process all that has transpired in the past month and adapt to our new normal.

Ninety days ago, I was sitting at Route 6 on New Year’s Eve with one of my closest childhood friends. We were on the Eve of a new year, a new decade, and a milestone birthday. We talked about how 2019 had been a hard year for both of us. But we were full of hope and optimism. In fact, we got a Keno card and wrote what we wanted to see happen in 2020, our 50^th year. We sealed them and she took them home to be opened on December 31, 2020.

Our goals/dreams for 2020. haha

Michelle & me on New Year’s Eve.

Eighty days ago, I turned 50. I had a super fun evening, celebrating with family and friends. We went to a piano bar in the Flats and sang and laughed the night away. Life is always to be celebrated. Two childhood friends were with me and we reflected on life, wondered how we ended up 50 years old when we still felt 20 something on the inside. We made plans for their birthdays and the summer…

Friends since elementary school.

And then the Covid-19 Pandemic happened. And life changed literally overnight. Schools, colleges, libraries, major league sports (I so miss baseball…I had opening day tickets), and businesses began to shut down. Social distancing became a thing.

These past couple of weeks have been busy as we (the pastoral staff) have worked through how to pastor and care for people when we cannot physically be together. It has been stretching, challenging, and liberating.

Praying before we tape our service…the new normal… (best staff <3)

Now that we are in rhythm and things are slowing down, the reality of the new normal has begun to set in. I am not a worrier, but I have to be honest, the unknown is unsettling. What will our world look like when this over? What will my life, my future look like when this is over? What will the economy look like? There are things I am enjoying about this slow down. Will I be able to keep those things in place when this is over?

I still think I am in the shocked phase. I am trying to carve out a routine that will help me have some rest but not become lazy.

One of the things I am trying to do every day is to walk for at least an hour with my dog. I take different routes. It has been nice because I am not trying to cram a walk or a run in-between appointments and meetings. I am not concentrating on miles or even speed…just being outside and exercising.

Thompson and me on a walk.

A couple of weeks ago, as all this was beginning, a Scripture came to mind. It is Psalm 107. The whole Psalm is powerful as it talks about the different messes we can be in (even those of our own making) and how if we cry out to the Lord in our trouble, He will save us from our distress. Verses 26 – 32 & 43 are what really spoke to me:

Their ships were tossed to the heavens and plunged again to the depths;
The Sailors cringed in terror.
They reeled and staggered like drunkards, and were at their wits end.
“Lord, help!” they cried in their trouble and he saved them from their distress.

He calmed the storm to a whisper and stilled the waves.
What a blessing was that stillness
As he brought them safely into harbor!

Let them praise the Lord for his great love and wonderful things he has done for them.
Let them exalt him publicly before the congregation and before the leaders of the nation.
Those who are wise will take all this to heart;

THEY WILL SEE IN OUR HISTORY THE FAITHFUL LOVE OF THE LORD!”

I have been meditating on this Scripture while on my walks, particularly verse 43.

The other day I walked by South Street Elementary where I attended 1^st grade through 5^th grade and by the old Vermilion Middle School (go Skippers) where I attended 6^th through 8^th grade. I also walked by my old high school. Memories from my childhood and growing up have come flooding back in waves. Some fond memories and some not so much.

And I thought of the storms as a nation we have weathered over my 50 years. I remember the energy crisis and recession of the 70s. My dad was an electrician and was laid off much of the time. He would go sign up for unemployment and then go to the union hall to sign the books. He would come home and say things like “I am 15^th on the bench.” As a kid, I thought he literally sat on a bench waiting to be called to go to work.

I remember the hostage crisis, the Cold War, the end of the Cold War, and the Challenger explosion. The Challenger was set to launch on January 28, 1986. I was a sophomore in high school. I remember televisions being set up all over the school. There was one in the Commons (cafeteria). Students all across the nation sat glued to the television because for the first time a schoolteacher was going to space. Imagine the horror and trauma of watching it explode seconds into take-off.

I remember  9/11 (who doesn’t) and the recession of 2008.

But through it all, God has been faithful. I see in our history, the faithful love of the Lord. And I will continue to see it as we walk through this Covid-19 Pandemic.

I look back on my personal life and the storms I have weathered – the alcoholism of my dad, my grandpa dying at 10, my mom’s stroke my freshman year and her subsequent death the summer before my senior year, my dad and brother Jerry passing away and countless other relatives. I am reminded of a season of personal moral failure in my own life (a storm of my own making).

And I see in my own history, the faithful love of Jesus. I see how He used the bad things that have occurred and used it for my good. It was during the hard times, God’s character was revealed and my character was built and challenged. I have never regretted my commitment to Christ  I made my sophomore year in high school. It has been the single best decision of my life. And as good and loving as I thought He was back then as a 15-year-old teenager, He is much more then I could ever have imagined.

While this pandemic is not good, I know I will continue to see the faithful love of the Lord demonstrated in this time of history.

Along the Way: Introduction

I am in the waning months of my 5th decade. I will be 50 in 5 short months. I feel it looming over me. The front nine are behind me. The back nine stretch out in front of me.

I have spent a lot of time on the beach this summer, reflecting, writing, and giving thanks to God for His faithfulness to me through the years. I have discovered in every season, God has mostly used people to shape and impact me.

People have always fascinated me. When I am on an airplane or at a baseball game and find myself sitting next to someone I don’t know, I almost always strike up a conversation. I am one of those people. My brother-in-law, who travels a lot for work, says sitting next to someone like me is his worst nightmare.

When I was a kid, I went through a period of time of wanting to be an archeologist.  This was after my truck driver phase (what kid of the 70s wasn’t influenced by the television show, B.J. and the Bear?) and before my mobster phase.

An archeologist is someone who excavates ancient ruins to see how people lived. They have the incredible task of connecting the past with the present to help inform our future.

History has always been a passion of mine. In middle school, I did my two research projects on the Depression (what led to it) and Watergate. My love of history fuels my fascination with politics and current events. It is history in the making, history I get to live through.

I consider myself an archeologist of people. I believe every person I encounter has something I need to discover and learn.  My job is to mine for it.

I am a pastor by vocation. My best friend always tells me I am a good one because I really know the people of my church and their stories. My response to her is this:  I am simply nosey.

In my life, I have been a pastor, a city councilperson, a manager at a pizza place. I have traveled to Africa, the Middle East, the Caribbean, and throughout the United States. What I have discovered is this; it is ordinary people with seemingly ordinary lives that have had the greatest impact on my life.

It has not been the superstar athlete making millions of dollars nor the award-winning actors that have shaped me (though Bruce Springsteen’s music did have influence). It is the ordinary people I have met along the way.

This book has been burning in me for over a decade. Over the years I have journaled about the people I have met along the way as I have traveled this road of life. The people who have impacted, shaped, and made me who I am today.

I decided to share the stories of 10 people who have deeply influenced me.  Join me as I introduce you to some of the people I have met along the way.

Another path. So treacherous they had to put steps in at a certain point.

A muddy path to the river.

I love looking at different paths. A bridge on the Huckleberry Trail in Christiansburg, VA.

I love looking at different paths and snapping pics. Claytor Lake in the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia.

 

My Sacred Space

“Life always occurs in a place.” I read this back in January. And it has stuck with me. I have found myself thinking about this a lot over the past few months. Eugene Peterson wrote this in his book, The Pastor. He goes on to say, “It (life) is never an abstraction, never a generality”.

Life always occurs in a place.

Jesus lived and died in a place.
Adam and Eve rebelled in a place.
Jesus healed and ministered in a real place, to real people.

I was born in a place.
I live my life in a place.
I chase my dreams in a place.
I fulfill my purpose in a place.

My life started in Vermilion.
It is my sacred place.
The place I grew up and was challenged.
The place I learned about love and heartbreak.
Where I learned how to fail and succeed.

Vermilion is where Jesus found a rough & wild teenage girl
in desperate need of rescuing.
It is here I learned how to love and serve people,
to forgive
to appreciate nature –
the wildness of Lake Erie.

Sometimes, we think big cities are more glamorous. I know I did. In college, I dreamt of ministering in New York City. I visited my junior year; convinced that is where I would end up, working in the inner city. Much to my surprise, my first assignment out of college was in the Shenandoah Valley, nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains. As I drove into the valley, I remember smelling the stench of a turkey farm. And crying my eyes out. This is not what I had envisioned. But those five years transformed me. That sacred place built confidence; in me and in God.

But God brought me back to this place. Vermilion. On the shores of Lake Erie with a river running through it.

And I realize that life is as wild and wonderful in a small town on a Great Lake as it is in a big city.

And I get to live, love, and grow in a place
with people I know
and who know me.
Ordinary people living extraordinary lives.

This is my sacred space.

On the Vermilion River in the winter.

Kayaking on Lake Erie. My happy place.

Sunrise where the Vermilion River empties into LakeErie.

Sunset on Lake Erie.

Ice Mountain on Lake Erie. A rare phenomenon.

That’s me on Lake Erie at sunset.

Sunrise at Main Street Beach on Lake Erie.

Vermilion River. Breathtaking. Photo by Scott Dommin.

 

What Makes a Writer

I have not blogged much recently. I received my Master of Arts in Strategic Leadership in December. All I did for two years was write paper upon paper culminating in my Capstone project. I also have journaled a lot over the past two years. I just could not bring myself to blog much.

I admire writers and their ability to paint a mental picture simply with words and to transport you into another world with the use of only 26 letters! It blows my mind. Or how musical notes on a piece of paper can make the most beautiful of symphonies. Or how a painting can evoke such deep emotion. Or how a song lyric can express our emotion and give it a name.

Creativity shows me there is a Creator. And when He made us in His image, He allowed creativity to be a part of us. The Arts are a gift from God.

I use to struggle as to whether or not I am a writer. I have never had a book published (though I tried when I was I was 10…I still have the typewritten manuscript and the rejection letter to prove it). I realized I was defining being a writer by whether or not people read my stuff. I have come to realize that I would write whether or not anyone ever reads my stuff. I create bridges through my writing to process life, God, love, and decisions. I have a box full of my journals to prove it. I have made one of my nieces promise me if anything were to happen to me, my journals would be destroyed. 😉

I say all of that to say this: I am committed to writing more. Daily in my journals. And hopefully weekly on my blog. And hopefully it will bring encouragement to those who read.

My newest journal. Love starting a new one.

Gero​nimo

What is next?
I do not know.
Is life half over?
Or has it just begun

Is it a new season?
A new chapter?
A new adventure?
Or all of the above?

There are times fear sets in…
So strong and palpable,
Accompanied by a dose of worry,
A breath can hardly be taken.

And just as quickly
hope rushes in.
Replacing anxiety
With the possibility of
“What if?”

Change is equal part
Hope…
Fear…
Excitement…
Anxiety…

What is over the next horizon
I do not know
But I trust the One who knows
The way I should go

He has led me
Over and over again
To paths unknown
Taken me to the precipice of the impossible.

And asked me to trust Him and
JUMP

Into the next adventure
The Great Unknown
I am here again
At the edge of change

Arms wide open
Ready to jump

It wasn’t easy
Getting to this place
Wrestling with
Doubts,
Insecurities,
Fear,
My faith

Myself
God Himself…

Not wanting to make a decision in haste.
But here I am,
Letting go of the past

Ready to embrace all the future holds
Understanding change
Is all
That ever really stays the same.

GERONIMO

My boss/pastor took this when we were at a pastor’s conference at Niagara Fall. It reminded him of the canvas hanging in my office. It’s how I want to live life.

I had this made into a canvas that hangs in my office. Depicts how I want to live in a picture.

The only constant in life is change. I want to be one who embraces it.

The Summer of Choosing Paths

“Making a decision, choosing a path is only the beginning of things. When someone makes a decision, chooses a path, he is really diving into a strong current that will carry him into places he had never dreamed of when he first made that decision.” (From the Alchemist). Tonight is my last night off of a 30-day sabbatical my church was gracious enough to grant me. I have done a lot of swimming, hiking, traveling, and baseball games this past summer. I especially did a lot of hiking these past 3 weeks. Up some treacherous mountains, beside big rivers in the pouring rain, along an old coal mine from Hell’s Hollow in Lake County east of Cleveland to the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. And I am ALWAYS fascinated with paths. You never know what is just around the bend. I almost always go off trail (except when I hiked Humpback Rocks…I would have died if I would have gone off trail). I really wanted to see a bear this summer. (I have included pictures at the end).

One of my favorite pictures from the trip. Sometimes the paths we choose are muddy.

Earlier this summer, my nieces and I spent a day exploring out of the way places around where we live. We do this often. That day we foraged through some funky plants and ended up at a furnace and breaking out from plant salve. We ended up at Dairy Queen washing our legs off in the bathroom to try and stop the burning. There were two ways to get to this place. We chose the harder path. But I got to see something I have wanted to see since I was a kid (and a rash and a rock to commemorate).

This summer has been about decisions….what path do I take? For my sabbatical, the church gave me a journey bag. In it were letters from people I know and love to read while I was gone. One person wrote, “This sabbatical is not just about what you are doing to do with the rest of your life, it’s who are you going to be?” This resonated with me. This person knows me very well and saw my struggle.

What kind of a person do I want to be? Will I be a risk-taker? Will I choose joy?   Will I be courageous and brave? Will I be kind? and honest? Will I continue to believe the best about people? Will Jesus continue to be the center of my life? Will I continue to be someone who enjoys the simple things?

One of my favorite authors is Paulo Coehlo. He says, “It’s the simple things in life that are the most extraordinary.” I was able to experience the simple things this past month. Sleep. Raindrops on flowers. Butterflies. The love only dogs can give. Laughter and tears with friends. Sleep. Waves crashing onto shore. Wind blowing on the top of a mountain. The smell of stale beer and popcorn at the ball field. The sound of the crack of the bat. Driving for hours listening to music. Sleep.

Will the simple things continue to fill me with wonder?

“No one can earn a star or a sunset, that gratitude and dependence on God are the very bedrock of reality” (I have read so much this summer, I don’t remember who wrote this).

Paths. We all have a path to walk. And periodically we have to choose which path to take. I literally had to do that countless times this summer. Sometimes I chose well, and other times not so much. Coelho says, “Being human means having doubts and yet still continuing  on your path.”

Scripture says that God’s word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path (Psalm 119:105).

There are many paths we all have to choose.

•      Will we choose to be bitter or better?
•      Will we choose to complain or to give thanks?
•      Will we choose to be stingy or to be generous?
•      Will we choose to hold an offense or to forgive?
•      Will we choose to hate or to love?
•      Will we choose to gossip or to keep our tongue still?
•      Will we choose to tear down or build up?
•      Will we choose to do the easy thing or the hard thing?
•      Will we choose to shrink back or to be courageous?
•      Will we choose to concentrate on our lack or on our gifts?
•      Will we play it save or attempt the impossible?
•      Will we choose joy?

We may not always choose wisely. We may end up soaking wet or in a Dairy Queen covered in hives with our legs burning. Even in the choosing wrongly,  we grow.

What will you choose today?

Claytor Lake in the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia.

A bridge on the Huckleberry Trail in Christiansburg, VA.

A side trail on the Huckleberry Trail.

Another trail.

Walking in the pouring rain along the New River in Radford, VA.

Flowers in the rain.

The New River on a rainy day.

Muddy path to the river.

One of my favorite pictures from the trip. Sometimes the paths we choose are muddy.

Peaks of Otter on the Blue Ridge Parkway in Bedford, VA.

Peaks of Otter.

Waling around Abbot’s Lake at Peaks of Otter in the pouring rain. So beautiful.

Peaks of Otter.

Peaks of Otter

The view from top of Humpback Rock. So worth the strenuous hike on a hot, humid day.

View from the top of Humpback Rock.

At the top. It was a bit windy. Great hair 😉

Sometimes you could not even tell where the trail was.

So treacherous they had to put steps in at a certain point.

It takes 40 minutes to climb .8 miles. I did not remember it being so strenuous. And I am in much better shape now.

Things you get to see outside.

Steps at Hell’s Hollow in Lake County east of Cleveland.

Hell’s Hollow.

A park in Erie County.

A fruit I never knew grew in Ohio.

The view from a very upscale hobo cave

What we found after walking through some nasty plants that made us break out.

Furnace?

Exploring the trains.

Growing Through Failure

My favorite place in the world is the beach. I love everything about it. The smell of sand mixed with suntan lotion, the sound of waves crashing to shore with kids playing in the background. I love the feel of the hot sun beating on my skin and the cold shock of the water when I first dive in. I love the beach in the fall, winter, and spring as well.

A couple of weeks ago, I was at the beach. I usually take a cheap raft and swim out the buoy and then hop on the raft and float back into shore. This particular day, I kept slipping off as I tried to get on the raft. I guess I had blown it up too much. I think I tried about 5 times before successfully getting on the stupid raft. There were a lot of people on the beach on this particular day. It was a Saturday and hot. As I was trying to get on, I was afraid I would end up losing my bathing suit and end up on YouTube or someone’s SnapChat. I was flailing trying to get on. I was failing. Kind of how I felt life has been lately.

Me and my 2 dollar raft.

As I floated on Lake Erie I thought of something that happened early on in ministry. I had to interim Senior Pastor after my boss left ministry under difficult circumstances. I was young and female. One day someone came into my office and proceeded for an hour to tell me everything I was doing wrong. I sat there and listened. They finally said, “I know you’re trying your hardest but your preaching sucks and it’s just not good enough.” I stood up. I was crying (which made me mad at myself). I cry when I am mad. I said, “I am sorry they picked me and not you. Why anyone would want to do this with the church hurting so badly, is beyond me. If my best isn’t good enough for you, maybe you should go somewhere else.”

For years when I would preach all I would hear is in my head was “you suck”. It was on repeat in my head. This person ended up apologizing to me about 7 years ago.

Once I got on the raft, I thought about the past 6 months. I have felt like I can do nothing right. I heard this person saying, “Heidi, you’re trying your hardest but your best simply isn’t good enough.” It has been a hard season. It has been a busy season. People are walking through such tough stuff. There has been a lot of loss.

I started working on my Masters in July of 2016. It is a two-year program. It has been a transformative experience for me. I have discovered so much about myself.  I was supposed to finish at the end of June. With the craziness of life, I had to withdraw from the very last class with two weeks left. I was doing well but I could not finish my final project with my schedule and mental capacity. I would sit at my table and my mind would go blank or I would cry. I will finish in December, six months later than I was supposed to.

This was a tough decision for me. I am goal oriented and driven. I feel like I failed. And the whole world watched. Kind of like my attempt to get on the raft.

The irony? My Capstone Project is on finishing well.

I have chosen to live my life pretty wide open through my writing and social media. If you are going to live an honest life, you cannot just highlight when things are going well.

How do I handle setbacks?

Do I feel sorry for myself? Do I try to hide it? Or do I face it?

I will finish. Once I made my decision, I knew it was the right one. It was best for me, it was best for the church and for the people around me. I will be able to give my project the time and attention it needs.

My graduation gift to myself was to go to the Indians/Yankees game. I had to purchase tickets before I knew this would happen. Going to the game was a reminder that I didn’t finish when I was supposed to. A reminder that I failed. But on the bright side, my Cleveland Indians beat the Yankees and there were fireworks afterward set to rock music. It was the perfect summer night; baseball, fireworks, music, and dollar hot dogs.

Sitting in the bleachers at Progressive Field (aka The Jake)

Beautiful night for baseball.

Watching fireworks.

Watching fireworks.

In the midst of all this, I had my 30th Class reunion that somehow I ended up helping plan. It was a blast but it did cause me to be introspective. Introspection has been my companion these past 6 months. Am I where I thought I would be at 48? Am I where I want to be? What do I want my legacy to be? Have I made a difference? Am I still making a difference?

Here is what I learned from all of this.

1. Life is good, even when it is hard.
2. You only fail if you refuse to get up.
3. It is okay to admit when you have reached your limit.
4. People are important. I would choose this path over and over again.
5. We are not defined by our biggest failure in life, nor are we defined by our biggest success.
6. Following Jesus is still the best decision I have ever made. So glad He pursued me.
7. I will continue to grow. If I am not growing, I am dying.

I have a sabbatical coming up in a few weeks in which I will be able to slow down, catch my breath, and ponder all these things.

Life is good, even when it is hard.

 

 

 

The Pink Flamingo and the Cross

Back in early April I was sitting at Lakeview Park. It had been a particularly hard day. The weather matched the day; grey and dreary. At that point it seemed like spring was never coming. As I sat there I was reminded of an incident from my childhood that I would remember again on Mother’s Day.

I was about seven or eight years old. I really wanted a Three Musketeer Bar. Those were my favorite. And there is a particular way you eat them…you eat all the chocolate off of it, then roll the fluffy, whipped nougat into a ball. It is heaven! Well, my mom, being the terrible mom she was, would not let me have one before dinner. So I ran away (don’t mess with a girl and her chocolate). I packed my suitcase with underwear, toothpaste, and a toothbrush (the irony is not lost on me on what I packed).

My mom let me go.

I stormed out of the house and began marching down Exchange Street. I was going to Youngstown to live with my great Aunt Betty. When I visited her, she had Santa Claus come in July and I got a Baby Alive. Who wouldn’t want to live in a place in which Santa comes in the summer?

I got to the end of the street…the corner of South and Exchange and I sat on my suitcase. I was in a pickle. I knew I was not allowed to cross the street by myself yet. Even in my running away, I was responsible. For the most part, I have always been responsible. In the past I took on the responsibility of taking care of my dad in his last years (and would do it again). I have taken on the self-imposed responsibility of making sure our family stays close and the nieces know what it means to be a Strickler.

Even in my wildness and thirst for adventure, I am responsible. 

(And sometimes I get tired of the responsibility).

The Sunday before this time at the beach, I was in my office at the church. Friends had given me this really cool gift…a pink flamingo umbrella that doubled as a cane. It. is. awesome. I set the pink flamingo on my chair. It came down like a hammer on my ceramic Jesus and broke His cross. This ceramic Jesus was given to me by Evelyn Thornton, a dear lady from when I served at a church in Virginia. She made it and painted it for me. Her hands were arthritic and I knew the cost it took for her to do this for me. Her husband gave me another one of my prized possessions that I will blog about at another time. They have since gone to be with Jesus.

 

A picture is worth a 1,000 words

When I saw that the cross had been broken by the flamingo and it just looming over ceramic Jesus, the irony was not lost on me. And God used it to speak to me. I actually dropped to my knees and just stared wtih tears streaming down my face (and took a picure of course). It so summed up the spiritual battle I feel like I am in.

I have been tired of being responsible. And sacrificing.

It’s like I am at a fork in the road…choose fun, wild, and myself (the pink flamingo) or choose the Cross. I know they are not mutually exclusive but sometimes the seriousness of life is overwhelming. I think I am a good balance of serious and fun. I have dubbed myself the pastor of fun at the church I serve at. Life is meant to be fun, but it can also be incredibly hard.

A good friend of mine had a dream last fall. In the dream, he was on the platform of our church. I was there with him.  In the back of the church he saw a darkness. And in the dream I was attacked and knocked down. He couldn’t help me because someone had jumped on the stage and was physically holding him back. Around the same time, my boss had a dream as well. I believe in God and the supernatural. I believe what my friend saw was a warning from God that we were in a battle, our staff was in a battle. And I was under attack.

There is a battle raging. I do not want to choose the Cross because of fear but because of love. Sometimes there is an incredible loneliness that overwhelms me. This is new for me. I have put to death a toxic friendship of 20 years. All part of a deep work God is doing. No baggage into the next season. It still hurts my heart.

But I know life comes from death. 

After all, the Cross, an instrument of death, brought me new life.

This difficult season is bringing new life.

A month ago, I went to scout out Cherry Street Mission for our summer internship program. It is an amazing homeless shelter (it is so much more than that). The executive director’s wife is a very good friend of mine. I talked with him about the season I am in and the loss I feel. He said something that has resonated with me. In the church world, when we say that God adds to us we think addition. One good thing added on top of the other.  But he believes that God moves more in a linear fashion. When He is going to add something to us or give us something, God has to take something away to make room. And sometimes what He takes away is a good thing. And there is pain.

Loss comes with addition.

In the end, when this battle is all said and done, I will choose Jesus. I am thankful that I have friends who will pray for me in the midst of it. Who want to fight for me. And I am thankful that I get to pray for others as they are in the midst of the battle. The dream my friend had didn’t scare me. It gave me peace that God knows where I am and that He is fighting for me and with me. And He has put people in my life to do the same.

I eventually got up off my suitcase and walked back home. I eventually got my Three Musketeer Bar. After dinner.