Buttercups in Bloom

Two stone pillars line the drive; reaching high into the sky as if beckoning you forward.   As you enter, questions that have lingered beneath the surface come bubbling up.  The whisper of will I fit in, will I belong catches in your stomach There is a table with wooden chips, markers, and plastic string.  You make your name tag, survey the crowd, share a handshake in trepidation, and begin the small talk.  Staff members flit around the circles that have formed trying to calm the growing nerves.   Schedules are announced, you make your bunk bed, you settle in, and try to find your people.  Training begins, the nerves calm and relationships slowly unfold. Staff pairings are announced, team bonding experiences are had, and the work of setting up your camp overtakes all of the nerves. Sunday arrives, you dawn your summer staff shirt and you stand before campers as an official Mountain TOP Summer staffer.  You begin leading campers from small rur...

In my part of the world, the Cicadas are present.  It's as if the trees themselves are talking to one another, the cicadas have made their home high in the leaves, and are all moving their wings in such a way that leaves you feeling as if some foreign language is crying out upon you.  If you were to walk outside you would be bombarded with noise.  The noise itself is a bit irritating.  Their left-behind shells leave you with an eery feeling and perhaps an insight into what it must have felt like for the Israelites during the plagues that reigned down upon them. As I've been thinking about how loud and irritating these cicadas are, and amid the noise I've been reminded of the breathtaking ways that God forms and shapes my own life.  99% of their lives are spent underground as immature insects, anywhere from 13 to 17 years, let that sink in for a moment.  Thirteen to seventeen years to not yet fully formed to growing into who they were destined to be.  G...

It happened because of tough conversations.  It happened through brokenness. It happened despite our human frailties. Hope was held. It began in the murky waters of the Jordon. It made room for the sinners and the saints, the haves and have nots. It took shape in the breaking of the bread. It came to life as dawn gave way to the resurrection.  Love was present. It happened today. Each person seen....each person valued.....each person whole. It happened today. The work is just beginning. It happened today. Revival is ours for the taking. It happened today. Today, almost 26 years after I knelt at altar of my ordination my denomination has allowed the murky waters of the river Jordon to flow over them and held onto to Jesus in a way that we have not dared to do before.  Today with a 93% approval we removed exclusive language that kept the doors of ordination shut to our siblings who openly professed their 'homosexuality."  Today in what felt like a blink of an eye, the ...

Recently in a Conference meeting for our Camping Ministry, we began the conversation by recounting stories from a time we had spent in the wilderness. The stories ranged from a group of unprepared young adults hiking to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, a time with family in which a walking stick accidentally punctured a hornet's nest, a shared experience of not just having the itching feeling that a single mosquito leaves but the realization that all of your children are highly allergic to mosquitos prompting them to abandon their trip or weather that was so cold a couple pulled their chairs so close to a campfire that they melted the sole of their shoe (that would be me).   The group laughed as the stories were told, as the inflection of one another's voices rose with excitement or dismay, we became quiet as more serious parts of the stories arose making room to honor what had taken shape.  In the sharing of the stories, I began to think about all the times I have had the...

Turn left in 3.3 miles Turn right in 1.7 miles. Mind the s-curve The next turn is in 2.5 miles Turn right in 4.8 miles Two lane highways County Roads Green street signs Stop signs, yield signs  Your destination is in 12. 2 miles This past week we spent time in North Georgia, where we launched from our home base each morning with a different walk in mind. Our directions were filled with quick turns on two-lane county roads that kept us with our eyes peeled to the next direction on our GPS.  Every once in a while I'd laugh because our directions would include a 5-11 mile stretch of highway that gave us a break and provided mental space to sit back and take in the scenery.   The scenery was a combination of beautiful pine trees encompassing one of the many lakes in the area and tall oaks that would stretch out on the mountainside before us.  The week was filled with walking in the woods, moments of comforted silence together, laughter over something silly, and of c...

The meal has been served. The bread has been broken. The cup has been lifted. Shadows are unfolding. The longings have been made known. The pleading with others to stay awake; to pay attention has unfolded. The betrayal has happened. Shadows are enveloping. The betrayer arrived. The darkness of the cell envelopes. The charges are made. Shadows are lingering. The crowd gathered. The judgment fell. The sentence is set. Shadows are darkening. Last night communities of faith gathered to break bread with one another anointed one another with oil, washed one another's hands and feet, and proclaimed messages of remembering who we are as people of God.  In the midst of it all, I was distracted because, for the past two weeks, our state has felt the veil of a deep, dark shadow descending upon us and yesterday it took its grip upon our city.  While we gathered around tables as people of faith and remembered our story in relationship to God's story, another kind of gathering was taking p...