Buttercups in Bloom

Bloodlines. DNA. Unexpected. Chosen. Deliberate. Connected. Each of us is born with a specific blood lineage.  Our DNA is the pathway of those who have gone before us. DNA reveals the mysteries that lie beneath the surface.  DNA unlocks the river of the past yet it does not unveil the holiness of those with whom will plant courage within us.  The lineage does not dictate who will stand with us in the moments of uncertainty and devastating.   Our DNA does not reveal who will move with us through the moments of celebrations and sadness. DNA does not reveal the fullness of who we are connected to.  There are persons for whom we share a lineage that includes specific characteristics but there are others who come into our lives unexpectedly. It is in these unexpected encounters that we find that we are instantly connected in ways that we cannot fully comprehend or describe. These unexpected encounters lead us to form relationships that are chosen and deliberate sharing in the eb

Yesterday morning the sky was bright. We stood together. Banter and excitement moved through the crowd. A rainbow of t-shirts proudly displaying the names of United Methodist Churches were all around. Signs of love were firmly held in the hands of those waiting. A sense of unification swept among us. Sunshine turned to an eerie dark cloud. We had to seek shelter. Waiting became the theme. Doors opened from a local hotel where hospitality and shelter were graciously provided to at least 100 strangers. The immediate danger passed but the rain lingered. We gathered again, this time wondering if we would get to show our support. A band started playing and their music enveloped our spirits. Dancing in the streets and banners raised high took over the crowd. Slowly the rain lifted and the walking began. I heard the cheers. I waved with thankfulness. I watched as many in the crowd stared at the names of our churches displayed across our shirts then quickly glanced at the b

There's this wonderful story in my faith tradition in which a faithful group of people was led into the desert for their own projection.  For years they had been living as slaves and this season of living in the desert was a time of new found freedom for them.  In the midst of this wonderful new life, God provided them with just enough manna to eat per day.  They were not to take anymore or any less than they or their family needed.  At first, this manna was a gift that the community appreciated, they were thankful and excited to have all that they needed.  Days and weeks passed and what had been a life-giving gift of nourishment turned into the very thing that the community complained about most.  The community lost their sense of thankfulness, lost sight of the offering of daily bread that was freely given to them and chose negativity over appreciation. It is easy to lose sight of the offering of daily bread. It is easy to focus on the negative when our careers are not where w

Decisions were made. Betrayal came. Insults were hurled. Humiliation took place. Loneliness rose. Yesterday as the people called United Methodist made decisions they emulated decisions that the chief priest and elders made so long ago. The strongest voice was one that had been looking for a way to persecute.  A small group sought to silence the very one with whom they feared. This voice sought to silence the one/s that have always been willing to heal others that had been cast outside the city gates. They sought to humiliate and question the one/s that noticed the unnoticeable in the tree, the one/s willing to call the unnoticeable down out of their isolation to share a meal around the table. A contingency of leaders sought to question the one/s who have freely walked into the world touching those that others cast away.  Decisions seemed to be made long before our leaders gathered in St.Louis.   As the insults were hurled, as the questions reigned down and as

Anger Grief Loss for words More anger As the sun rose this morning  I found myself wondering if we could undo what took place yesterday afternoon in St. Louis as delegates from our denomination gathered.  In the midst of the darkness,  I  lie awake praying that light would come and today we would witness Jesus standing outside the grave and calling Lazarus forth; proclaiming a new beginning.   I thought about Nicodemus coming to Jesus in the middle of the night wanting a new life; a new beginning and hoping beyond hope that Jesus would throw his arms around him and tell him that his past didn't matter.  I thought about the way Jesus transformed lives, performed miraculous deeds and loved those who everyone else pushed to the side. This morning is difficult. I feel sick. I am struggling. The sun is now up, the reality that in less than 12 hours humans from around the world would have declared who they say the people of Methodist are.  It all feels so surreal as if we a

"Jesus wept" Let that sink in for a second. The words are some of the purest words that express the depth in which Jesus feels for those he loves.  Twice in scriptures, we see the intimacy of love that Jesus has for his beloved people.  We experience the tenderness of tears as Jesus approaches Lazarus's death bed.  His love toward Lazarus is so deep that even the Jews see the outpouring of love and proclaim "see how much he loved him!"  We step into the depth of emotions as Jesus enters Jerusalem for the final time.  Amidst the shouts of hosannas, we see that Jesus's spirit is broken. In both instances, Jesus opening weeps for his people. The first time for an individual and the 2nd for a community as a collective body.  Today I have sat, listening and watching with intensity as my brothers and sisters in faith bore the weight of carrying a cross that was beyond heavy and comes with consequences felt around the world.  This morning I was hopeful as the

It's been 381 days. 381 days since we left the comfort and safety of McCallum Place Eating Disorder Center in St. Louis, Mo. 381 days that have included tears while we made difficult decisions, exchanging the beauty of the mountain for the glamour of the city, moments of setbacks,  building and rebuilding a new kind of trust, walking a path in which we couldn't see around the corner.  The days have included laughter and a newfound sense of community and fellowship, being reconnected to a place that held memories but now holds the comfort of welcome every day.  Over the 381 days, events that seemed like they were a mere glint on the calendar have become a reality and with each movement, we have been reminded that pruning is always painful and yet always necessary in order for us to grow into who we are and what we are being called to do. Today we are mere 11 days from an event that seemed so far away 381 days ago.  In 11 days my beloved Wesleyan tradition will host almost

The swishing of the washer. The hum of the dryer. Haircut. Filling the refrigerator and pantry with food. Watching the gas gage rise to full. Sitting down to dinner at a restaurant. A cup of coffee at a local shop. The click of the keys while the wifi gives me the ability to pay bills online. A mere day of ordinary things that I cannot get out of my mind.  Six months ago our financial status changed. It was a choice that we made as a family.  It was something that we had six months to prepare for. It was something that we wanted to do in order for us to be closer to resources that could be transformative.  We made a consequence decision for the health of our family and knew that our financial resources would decrease in the process, It hasn't been easy taking the pay cut.  We have to make difficult decisions about what we are going to purchase/eat out/ save/ give to our church but the choice was ours.  We had time to prepare.  We have made cuts within our family budget.