Who Cares about Who The President Is When....

I’ve spent the last two days in Houston at Texas Children’s hospital with my son Ricardo. He has a genetic disorder that is progressive and untreatable. We met with two new specialists who are going to try to help him walk again.

On the way to the hospital, in the hotel shuttle, there was a woman in her second round of breast cancer going to MD Anderson for treatment. She makes the trip every three months but she probably won’t survive. When we got back to the hotel, the talk overheard in the lobby and on the news was all about the Republican National Convention. After spending the day with other parents at a hospital that specializes in research and the treatment of very sick kids, it was no surprise that a multi-billion dollar campaign didn’t make much sense to me.

So what I wish I had told my youth group thirty-five years later is: few things matter when you hear the words, “You have breast cancer.” Or,“I’m sorry but your child is going to die.” Few things matter when you leave your father at an Alzheimer’s facility and he looks out the door wondering where he is and why you’re leaving him.

There are other tragedies you have endured such as finally giving up on your dream of a happy marriage as you sit in unbearable pain knowing your spouse is not in love with you anymore, hearing the news that your child took his life, seeing the test results that confirm you have AIDS or the initial shock that your son was not born perfect like all the other kids and is going to be disabled his entire life. He will never marry, graduate from high school, or have children.

Notice what all of these situations have in common. They are all about relationships. The most beautiful and the most painful moments in life are ALWAYS about relationships. So why do we spend most of our time trying to gain power, success and large bank accounts? Though politics, church, making a living and even standing for values that you believe in are a part of life, everything stands still when sorrow and suffering take your hand.

In 2009 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. At different times through my surgery and treatment, it was as if time stood still and God gave me eyes to see what mattered most to me. What mattered during breast cancer had little to do with where I had been spending the majority of my time, energy and money. Once I was diagnosed, making an impact in the world became less about my ego and more about the grace of God. I suddenly had time for the people who meant the most to me. I wanted to hold my children and live a simple, quiet life. I wanted to sit with Jesus as only He could comfort me and calm my fears.

The bottom line is don’t live and die for the next job, the “right" church, America “like it used to be,” enough money to retire or the illusion that you have any power at all. Instead, tell your kids over and over that you love being their mom or dad. Don’t let a day go by without stopping your spouse in the hall, embracing them and whispering in their ear that you are STILL crazy about them. Make time for life long friends, sitting on the back porch or talking around the kitchen table. SLOW DOWN long enough to make homemade ice cream and don’t be afraid to use the good china on Tuesday night. Click on the envelope below to send to a friend.

Using the "S" Word in Prayer

My 5 & 6 year old grandsons came home from summer camp last week with a few new words in their vocabulary. We talked about “good words” and “inappropriate words.” (Of course, now that’s a set up for Mimi when I use my own “grown-up” words.:-)) After we discussed the two words in question, Ben came back with, “Ommmm, Mimi, Adam said the “S” word at camp today.” I looked at Adam and said, Adam what did you say? Before Adam could speak a word, Ben shouted back, “HE SAID SHUT UP!”

After gently reminding Adam that it was unkind to say that to someone I thought about the word and realized it is perhaps the best word to describe my prayer life when I am truly connecting to God. For the first half of my life I talked to God a lot and actually considered it a pretty good barometer of my spiritual growth.

At some point in the last twenty years I got tired of hearing myself talk and realized I was spending a lot of time telling God things he already knew. After adopting my disabled son, I prayed so hard and thought perhaps if I could say just the right word, my son might be healed. I prayed the blood of Christ over him and under Him. For months, I prayed the Lords prayer over his bed after he went to sleep. I turned the table on God and started using His own words against him… “Lord,, YOU SAID, if three or more are gathered…, Lord, YOU SAID, all things will work together for good…, Lord, YOU SAID, if we asked, we would receive… and so on and on. Ultimately I had to come to grips with the fact that the God I believed in would not be so cruel as to have a magic word or phrase that I had to find in order for him to heal a little boys life. My words were not convincing God of anything.

A few years later I was in so much pain I couldn’t even speak to God. It was then that I learned how to pray. I “shut up” and listened. I had talked to God for years but never slowed down enough to listen. I’m not talking about a 5 minute meditation during a scheduled “quiet time.” I’m talking about an hour or two or three of opening myself up in the presence of God believing he was present and wanted to speak to my heart. This meant I had to get away and be silent. It usually took a while to rid my mind of my “to do list” and sit long enough for the voices in my head to stop talking. Once I “shut up” lots of things changed. I saw prayer as being all about God, not so much about me. That eliminated any pride or praise of self because I was clearly the recipient, not the self righteous Pharisee.

In 1995 I went on my first silent retreat at a catholic retreat center in Denton. We were silent for four days and those four days turned my prayer life inside out. It took one full day to be able to settle into the silence but after I did, I experienced God in ways I cannot fully explain. I didn’t speak to anyone for four days and I said very little to God. As a result, I heard God and I basked in His presence. It was as though I met him for the very first time.

Mike Yaconelli, a former youth minister expressed it perfectly after just spending a few hours in silence. He said,

“For years God tried to shout over the noisiness of my life, and I couldn’t hear him. It only took a few hours of silence before I began to hear my soul speaking. It only took being alone for a short period of time for me to discover I wasn’t alone. In the stillness and solitude, His whispers shouted from my soul, Michael, I am here. I have been calling you, but you haven’t been listening. Can you hear me Michael? I love you. I have always loved you. And I have been waiting for you to hear me say that to you. But you have been so busy trying to prove to yourself you are loved that you have not heard me.”

That last sentence nailed me. “But you have been so busy trying to prove to yourself you are loved that you have not heard me.” During my best days, I stop the chaos and business of life and listen for Jesus who tells me, “Connie, I love you. I love you. Be still and rest in my arms of grace.”

1. How much time do you spend talking to God and how much time do you spend listening to God?

2. Are you willing to start meeting God in silence? It’s scary when you think about sitting somewhere in silence. Other than sleeping, when is the last time you were silent for over an hour?

3. Have you heard God and experienced His presence in solitude? Try it!

In January, we will be offering a three day silent retreat. Let me know if you would like to be put on the list. Click on the envelope below to send to a friend.

What I Wish I had Told My Youth Group 35 Years Later - post #2

Richard Rohr makes a great distinction between the “first half of life” and the “second half of life.” He calls the first half of life our “survival journey” and the second half of life our “sacred journey.”

He says, “The task of the first half of life is to create a proper container for one’s life and to answer the first essential questions: What makes me significant? How can I support myself? …And, who will go with me?,” He goes on to say, “the first half of life is about creating identity, finding some boundary markers (spiritual traditions and beliefs, cultural traditions, trustworthy authorities and structures), making some money, getting an education, marrying, and raising children.”

For me it meant making my mark in the world (adopting children & becoming a minister), supporting myself, developing significant relationships and deepening my spiritual beliefs about God. I also spent the first half of my life believing I was right; right about church, right about God and right about how people should live. If others didn’t agree with me, I prayed for their salvation and hoped to somehow influence them to believe as I do so they wouldn’t spend eternity in hell. And, I was nice about it. :)

In my early fifty’s I began to see a larger world outside of life in my “container.” I could finally see the arrogance in my “know it all” spirituality. I questioned some of the structures I built with my superior moral high ground. I wept and grieved over the woundedness of my own heart and the pain of others. I had to make a decision, would I rather be right or would I rather be loving? Did I really have all the answers about the God of all creation? It was then that I stopped studying about God and began to look at God. Though the Bible taught me about God (which I still believe), God spoke the loudest about who he was/is through the person of Jesus.

So what can Jesus teach me? He certainly didn’t live the way I lived the first half of my life. He wasn’t interested in storing up money, power or even significance. He saw the God given essence in people who were rejected and abused in religious circles. Jesus spoke over and over again about the poor and our responsibility in caring for them. He wasn’t overly concerned with Caesar and the decisions of the government. I’ll say it again and again, Jesus narrowed it down to two priorities; “Love God and love others.” If anything gets in the way of me following those two laws, I am not living the sacred journey.

What about you?

Are you still doing the survival dance storing up money, power and significance?

What might God be calling you to do in order to follow Jesus' example of love?

Do you spend more time and energy defending your presidential candidate than you do in finding ways to help the poor?

Are you spending time with Jesus or simply talking about Him?

These are questions that get my attention because my answers remind me that I am only a beginner on the sacred journey.
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What I Wish I had said to my Youth Group 35 Years Later

Thirty five years ago I stepped out of college into my first job in full time ministry. I was young, full of energy and couldn’t believe I was getting paid for what I would have done for free. I was living out my dream of being a Youth Director and it was more than I ever imagined it would be.

Last weekend we all came back together, and as with most close friends, we picked up right where we left off. My “kids” survived adolescence to become executives, entrepreneurs, ministers and people doing fascinating work. They are faithful husbands and wives and committed parents. It was like going back to “Mayberry.”

As I’ve reflected on the weekend, which was fabulous, I found myself wishing I would have taken the time to say things I didn’t understand thirty-five years ago. During the first half of my life, answers seemed easy for me. And that’s what I modeled for my youth group. During this last half of my life, pain and loss have become my teachers and what matters most to me no longer fits in a black and white world. My theology continues to change as I break the gospel down to two commandments, love God and love others.

I’m not sure why I didn’t speak up about these changes. Perhaps I was caught up in the glory of our memories and didn’t want to bring any mention of pain into the discussion. I suspect, like me, many of my kids have not been spared from hurt and loss. If I could, I would go back and be a little more honest about navigating the hard places in life and asking the hard questions about God.

I’m going to dedicate the next 5-6 posts to “What I didn’t say when I was a Baptist Youth Minister.” Here is one of the things I didn’t understand thirty-five years ago.

Try not to be defined by what you’re against. We are a religion that continues to divide ourselves over issues that probably aren’t on God’s Top Ten list. In other words, “pull out the log in your own eye before you start picking at the splinter in mine.” I’ve been trying to pull that log out of my eye for years. God has used it to humble me more than I want to admit. Many more people will see the true Christ if we stop judging and simply love one another. Surely we can model the love of Jesus in more effective ways than going or not going to Chic-fil-a.

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