Buttercups in Bloom

I wouldn't call myself creative on any level.   I actually tell persons I'm the only one in my family that didn't get a tactile kind of creativity.  My dad works with his hands, he's able to see beautiful items and shapes out of the trees that surround us.  My mom has always been able to take simple things and create a variety of items from beautiful boxes to handkerchief blankets.  My oldest sister is an artist at heart, she has always been able to see shapes, colors and textures and put them all together. My twin sister is one that takes a house and creates a home with beautiful colors, hand sewn drapery,  and warm touches.   When I describe myself I always say that everyone in my family has a creative spirit.  Then I have quietly (as if it's not as creative or note worthy enough) add that my creativity comes out in my preaching.   Today I got to spend the entire day with Emma.  We were working on creating some Christmas presents for the cousins an

            Some days your path leads you through the fog and straight into the warmth of deep conversation.  The invitation and warmth to enter begins as you turn down the driveway.   The turn leads you to a sanctuary, to sit within someone's reach, to partake of the gallery of art that spans the ages.  A hand waves you forward and you find yourself turning the corner and feel full before you even enter.  As you step out of the car, your pulse slows because the invitation is so pure.  As you walk the steps you are  welcomed by the blessings at the door; the invitation to take off your shoes and be a part of the family.          The inside is filled with color.  The kitchen bar is filled with a variety of tea pots, all ready to be used.  There are a variety of vibrant colors, all pulling you in to a sense of home.  Fresh, plump, green grapes high on a pedestal waiting to be eaten.  Beautiful red, yellow and orange peppers sit in a large bowl ready for the next meal.  Red cherry

Death It literally takes your breath away. It never comes at the right moment in our lives. It is always (no matter what the situation) more difficult than our words can fully articulate. It brings out the worst and the best for loved ones as they navigate the curvy road of what is now their new reality. I must admit that it has been a weary past week.  Death has invaded my life in a variety of ways this past week.  A week ago today my Aunt; whom I grew up right next door to until I left for college, transitioned into the Kingdom.  My Aunt's death wasn't a shock for 4 years she had been living with breast cancer.  And yet  her death has left a whole, a whole in my mom's daily routine.  A routine that included calling her to touch base with how she was and what her plans were for the day.  It was never a really long conversation and yet it was a touch stone. Beyond my aunt, my week has been filled with hearing the news that one of Luke's former students from

There is something that is burning to be written...something pulling me inside as if I need to say something but to be honest I don't feel as though I have anything important to write or to say aloud.   And yet.... there is a yearning that is pulling me to the keys to express something that is lingering within my very being. All I can really think to say is:  God you are incredible.  You are beyond my wildest dreams.  Holy and most stunning creator I am thankful that you said yes to brining me into this world.  King of All, I am astounded to find you lurking and waiting for me in the unexpected places of my life.  Rock and Sustainer your presence in my life, your longevity and breath supersede any expectation that I have in  my frail little mind. There is a way of living and being.   A way of leaning into a presence......          A way of accepting that which cannot be explained.....              A way of opening yourself to the truth of who you are and who

This morning I found my way back to my normal routine. A routine that includes waking up Emma, preparing my lunch, making sure that everyone has breakfast and heading to the gym. I've been back from a pilgrimage to the Holy Lands for four days now.  I've stood in the pulpit that God has given me here at Morton Memorial UMC to proclaim the Good News.  I've walked through the jet-lag and unlike my fellow pilgrims I was 'back' yesterday. I've gone to get groceries and put them all away.  I have planned our meals for the week.  I made sure that all the laundry was washed, dried, ironed and put away.   Today should not have been any different, it should have not have been as strange as it was. But this morning was different.  The silence of the morning, the dew still hanging on the grass and the sun slowing rising above our sweet mountain gave way to something greater. While I was riding the stationary bike at the gym I simply put my iPod on shuffle.  I haven

Making your way home  I wrote this on the way home from the Holy Lands while I was sitting in the darkness of the early morning on the plane. Home is an interesting word. It is definitely where your heart is....it is where your heart connects...it is where your soul is filled and where you find your foundation. I have missed Emma  and Luke in more ways than I can count. Yet in the midst of wanting to be at home with them, I have been reminded that my home is so much broader and deeper than the two of them. My home is found when I lean into the power of a creator that has spanned the ages. Home is found as I push against a rock so strong that it cannot be moved.  Home is the safety that abounds when the storms of life are ranging all around you and the Savior raises his voice to calm the seas just for you. Home brings you back into community even in the midst of not always deserving it. Home is the wisdom found in others. Home comes when we offer all of who we are to a Father who emb

Our time is quickly fading here in the land that is full of presence and peace. Our minds are disengaging from the awe of that which is before us and turning to the things of home. My heart is heavy today as we make our way home from Bethany and the Dead Sea.  The drive home from the Dead Sea means that tomorrow is our last day here in the land where my Savior grew into a young man....grapled with the pressures of coming of age.....the place where he wasn't afraid to reach out and touch someone to heal the brokenness that lived within them....the place where he offered to be the living water for any who would want to drink of it and never thirst again. We have all experienced moments of deep excavation of the soul during these days here in the land of our faith.  Moments where the rock and the dirt in our lives needed to be slowly and painstakingly brushed away.  In the midst of that deep soul scraping moments that we have experienced Jesus comes to us today and offers

Silence The sun may have been beating down upon us but in the shadow of the Western Wall all things seem to fall away.  Our Jewish brothers and sisters were coming before their day of work or school began to pray and lift up their prayers to God himself. I love the Wall. I love touching the foundation of my faith. I sat watching and listening as so many others experienced the holiness of the Wall for the first time ever.  In the listening and the watching I was drawn to a prayer book. I wanted to hold it and let the words of the Psalms flow upon me. I wanted to hold the words of Isaiah and remember the sacrifice that he was willing to make for the One that he so deeply believed in.  I sat holding a prayer book filled with symbols in which I did not understand; in which I could not read and yet there in the midst of it all was God. The Rock of my salvation was before me. The Strong Tower has  protected me from my enemies. The Holy of Holies laid the foundation upon which I

As we gathered on the terrace of the dining room for breakfast a gentle breeze blew across our souls. While eating breakfast the sun shone in full glory as the orange ball crept into the sky. Coffee, awe and goodness filled our breakfast tables as we prepared for the journey down the Via Dolorsa  into Calvary By 7:00am we were praying the stations along the Via; the way of the cross.The Old City was in full swing this morning with shops opening, children rushing off to school and parents making their way to work.  Each station brought a different emotion as to the weight that Jesus carried for us as he walked the hill to Calvary. The movement through the city heightened our awareness that as the cross was forced upon Jesus' back to carry through the city the people would have been going about their daily lives.  They wouldn't have stopped, if they did they did not linger on his presence they simply noticed that another criminal was being led through the city. The Via Dolorsa

We awoke early once again to watch the sun make its way across the horizon.  Today there was no haze, it was a beautiful pink line that greeted us and welcomed in the dawning of a new day. It was a day of transformation as we left the sea and made our way to Mount Tabor; the place in which the transfiguration of Jesus occurred.  As we made our way the mountain and could see from the distance, the low lying clouds gave it a majestic and holy appearance; as if God himself had  made bleached it whiter than we could ever imagine.  The road up the mountain is a steep switch back three mile journey and yet one that is filled with a beauty of a one lane road and the glorious views of agriculture springing forth to life below.  Seven pilgrims chose to walk the three miles up the steep road to gain a sense of what it must have been like to travel with Jesus.  While the road was winding and steep the conversations that flowed were joyous and transformative.  The view of shades of green below t

Ever so gently the sun made its way across the horizon of the Sea of Galilee this morning, it was a gentle pink merely sneaking up and over the hills that encase the Sea of Galilee.  The clouds hung heavily in the sky as the the presence of a new day, the promise of a new life was offered to us once again. Driving to the Mount of Beatitudes we saw the hills rising before us and forming the perfect amphitheater that makes it possible for one person to be able to speak to hundreds if not thousands of people .  The landscape is golden and dotted with shades of green.  As we gather to hear the words of our Lord proclaiming, 'blessed are those who are poor in spirit, blessed are those who morn, blessed are those who hunger and thirst, blessed are those who are pure in heart, blessed are those who are the peace makers and blessed are those who are persecute" God began to move within us.  The presence of the Holy fell upon us as the vibrant colors of the flowers pressed up against

Today has been a day of building. We stood on the edge of the Mediterrian Sea listening as the waves crashed onto the land.  It was the land in which Herod  the Great built his great city and dedicated it to Ceaser.  Throughout history it has been a place in which building was central.  Building the Jewish community, then the Christian community and finally building and growing the Muslim community.  We began to ponder and ask ourselves what are we building in our lives? What kind of kingdom are we being asked to build, are we buildling one that is self serving? Are we building a kingdom that honors the Holy of Holies?  We have been building community and building our relationship with our Christ.  As we climbed the hill to Nazaerth we carried the annunciation and promise of a new life that was given to Mary into our own hearts and minds. Mary's willingness and faithfulness to say 'have thine own way Lord' calls us to think about the ways that we are allowing God to hav

  Disclaimer...the bold or different font means nothing!! The blog was simply written at two different times....    Pilgrimage in its purest form means to take a journey to a sacred place.  Today the pilgrimage is two fold.  It is a pilgrimage for my own soul, one that returns me to the land of my Savior. In less than 24 hours we will be landing in a land so holy and so rich that every step takes your breath away. It is a personal journey of walking the land once again and watching and listening in a new way.  It is a pilgrimage in which I hope that my steps are purposeful and slow.      It is also a pilgrimage in which I get to lead 18 others who have never step foot on the land of our faith.  It is a pilgrimage in which I have the honor of helping to create space for others to feel the presence of our Lord in a new way.      As we sit in the airport waiting the pilgrimage the pilgrims are each trying to find their own space and rhythm with one another.  Books and i-readers are

     I remember visiting a friend in Colorado and being in awe of the crisp, clear blue winter sky and looking over at the mountains stretching into the horizon and asking "do you ever get tired of this?" I asked him "Do you ever forget where you live and what you see?  Does the beautiful ever fade away?  Do you ever take it for granted?"  My friend quickly responded "nope, never!"     Now that I live in the mountains myself I can say that I don't grow tired of the beauty...it doesn't fade away. But if I am honest there are other things that fade away.          The other things that often fade away before I have realized it are all around me.  The things that seem to fade or slowly run together like the water moving across a painted canvas are the things like deep friendship.  Friendship that seems to span the miles; friendships that have carried the burdens; friendship that have cried from the depths of one's being and yet continue to g

     When I sit down to blog usually it comes fairly easy but this time I have started over many time. Tonight, I am still sitting here staring at these pictures.  I feel like I am meant to share these pictures and the story that is unfolding.  It isn't anything that I expected and yet it is consuming me because I see what it is doing for the people that have been entrusted into my care and I want to do my part in fulfilling all that God is unfolding.     To be honest I wanted to do something for Lent that I had already done before.  I felt like it would give be the ability to be with my people during this season of Lent. I also wanted an opportunity to 'get ahead', so I turned to something that I had enjoyed preaching and teaching before.  This time I wanted to come at it from a different angel.     As I prepared to preach on the Good and Beautiful God: Falling in Love with the God Jesus knew by James Bryan Smith the imagine that kept coming to me was a sense of

Fog... It isn't just present in the mornings, it can last half the day and today was one of the days that it just didn't seem to want to lift.   It wasn't just the fog here on the mountain that didn't want to lift, it was the fog inside my head that didn't leave as quickly this morning as I had hopped.  The fog of being disorientated and dizzy would not stop as I tried to lift my head.  Yep...it was the fog of vertigo.  This fog has been with me for almost a week now and it's amazing how difficult it is to maneuver when the fog in our lives doesn't lift. Vertigo definitely brings about it's own kind of fogginess but I'm guessing that each of us have experienced some sort of fog in our lives.  The fog of disappointments role into lives and it doesn't matter what we do it feels as though we cannot catch a break...or the kind of fog that comes from not speaking the truth and the consequences of our poor choices continue to come when we l

     Today I have been sitting on the fence between being happy for others and the things that God has brought into their lives and sulking at what I have not been able to obtain; or what I haven't been given.      It's a weird place to be.      I want to be happy for my friends.           Happy that they have succeeded.               Happy that all things have gone well for them.                 Glad that the words that they needed came and just the right time.    And yet if I am honest, deep down I am jealous and a bit hurt.           Yes, jealous that the pieces of their puzzle seems to fall into place.              Sad, that I am angry that they get to celebrate such a goodness of a day.                 Hating myself that I want the recognition from others.   As I sit here today, pride has been welling up within me.    Pride is always a funny thing.....   Pride always makes us want something more or different than what we have.  It makes us question the ve

         Some days are not at all what we think they are going to be.            Actually some weeks are not what you think they are going to be .....and this has been one of those....... It's interesting, never in a million years did I think that I would be traveling to the Holy Lands more than once in my life but here it is, I am returning this year....not just as a pilgrim but as a Leader; helping to open the Land of the Holy to those entrusted into my care.  It's an amazing thing and one that I don't think that I have wrapped my head around but that's another story for another time. I have been making a list of persons who have been telling me that they were interested.  If I saw someone that picked up a brochure I added them to the list.  I simply wanted to create a list of persons in whom I could pray over and in whom God could reveal those who were to be a community for this two week journey.    My list has been growing... Honestly there