Buttercups in Bloom

In my dad's truck, the radio was turned up and he'd be blasting out words to the likes of Eric Clapton, Alabama, The Eagles, and Johnny Cash.  As a teenager, I despised having to listen to his music but the words seem to bury themselves deep within my being because as an adult I can still hear the words waffling up from the unknown places within my brain. The words of Alabama's 'Forty Hour Week' have been floating around in my head for months now as if on a broken record.  If you don't know the song, they give homage to all those living behind the scenes making our world turn.  The truck drivers alone in their long haul, the men and women standing on the floor in a factory working to meet their quota, steelworkers who walk in the clouds, those driving a hammer and a nail in extreme temperatures and so many others who tirelessly do the work of keeping our daily lives moving forward.   For many of our forty-hour workers, their work is dependent upon punching a tim

I have a confession to make. I absolutely love pens. Yes, I love pens.  From the time I was in middle school carrying my life in my backpack, I have reserved the front pocket for my love of pens. Nowadays my stash of pens is contained in my specific pen pouch within the main compartment of my backpack. My pens vary in color, tips, and styles. Today I have 3 very distinctive pens out on my desk (along with two different color highlighters) and each one has been used for a different task.  Some days I can use the same pen for all the tasks that are before me but then there are days that one pen just doesn't fit or feel right.  Pens glide across the paper in unique ways, at times a gel pen leaves a smudge while a thick felt pen bleeds onto the backside of that in which you are working and at times my .38 tips are just a bit too narrow for others to read with ease.   I'm not an artist by any stretch of the imagination, nor am I proficient in hand-lettering beautiful works of art bu

I was 20 with only two summers of working for nonprofit ministry on my resume. I was hired to shepherd a group of middle and high schoolers for the summer.  Fred the lead pastor was steady and calm, loved beyond measure, and gave grace when definitely didn't deserve it. Jane taught me how to plan a youth ministry budget, gave me direction when I didn't know which way to turn, and honestly was too green to ask for assistance.  The summer turned into two years of learning about myself, understanding the fundamentals of leading, and more importantly what it meant to be a shepherd of the least, lost and lonely. I was 23 and applied for A Christian Ministry in the National Parks with the understanding that I would work full-time in one of our beautiful National Parks while also assisting in planning worship services for guests and employees in the park.  I had no idea until I arrived that I wasn't merely assisting in the planning, but  I was actually leading a small team of peop

The 8 1/2 x 11 entitled Senior Dates had been taken off the refrigerator.  There had been no Surf's Up Day.     Prom had slipped through their fingers. Senior Skit Day would never be considered. Having the privilege of wearing and showing off their College Swag on their special day never made it out of their closets. Making their way through the overcrowded hallway hearing the cheers of their peers, high-fiving their favorite underclassman, hugging their favorite teachers, shedding tears of joy,  walking away with their blue oxfords filled with signatures never took place. It was graduation weekend and a ceremony wasn't on the horizon.  Our senior's cap and gown sat in a closet.   Within a day, the immediate family had been invited for an outside masked graduation ceremony. A few close friends were given the zoom link.  Pictures from Kindergarten through the Senior year were printed and encased the screened-in back porch under the glow of the fairy lights.  Balloons were hu

Our faith tells of a time in which God protected God's people in a journey that began in a rush, a journey that had frightful challenges and communal hardships.  It was a journey in which they must have felt fear as they left behind all that they had known.  Their hearts must have been pounding as they turned to walk out of the homes for their last time.  Their souls must have been shaking as they crossed the water bed that led to dry land.  They must have wondered if their lives would ever return to what they had known before. In the exodus, in the wandering, they no longer had the security of the walls of the temple.  Their rituals disturbed. The Holy of Holy contained in their stories, in the development of a new community.  The indwelling of God's presence making its home within the depths of their being.  In the walking, they had to carry the holiness of God with them, pitching the tent of the Holy One wide wherever they landed.   In the last year, I felt like I have brush

I..... Took my favorite drive Lingered drinking coffee with a sweet friend in a beautiful place. Stood at an overlook to fill my soul Caught up with colleagues around the fireplace. I wasn't concerned that I had left my charger at home and the charge on my phone was fading. I fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning. Something was brewing...... Others..... Readied their children for school Hurried off to work Moments of innocence flowed as children played outside. Dinner was eaten in the car on their way to their child's after-school activities. Homework was completed Nighttime routines took place Children were snuggled into their beds. Sleep came in the late hours of the day. Something was coming...... In the thin line of time for which darkness lingers and the morning has not yet come, that which had been brewing gathered full strength. That which was coming was on top of us without warning.   The violence of a tornado was upon us. Within minutes the force of the tornado c

On Sunday night a blanket of ice encased us in a slippery, beautiful winter fairyland.  It gave us the excuse to wrap ourselves in our warm blankets, watch a movie, and delay the errands that we had planned on accomplishing.  Monday the blanket of ice was accompanied by a few flakes of snow, creating the perfect playground for southerners to dawn their winter gear, grab their sleds, aand take the perfect shot to post on social media.  Tuesday brought an expected day off for both myself and Luke, giving us the time to pack Emma's bedroom and prepare her stuff to be moved into her new apartment in the coming weeks.  Late yesterday afternoon large beautiful flakes of snow began to blanket our community.  It was the kind of snow that is memorizing to watch, one that covers you in peace and stillness if only for a moment.  In the midst of the beautiful blanket of snow that has fallen, in the peace and stillness has fallen upon us, among the adventures filled with sledding down the perfe

Again and Again Brokenness mended into healing Isolation beckoned into community Stories that release us from what holds us captive into freedom Stagnation pulled into engagement Contentment unfasted to move forward Again and again. Again and again, we make our way into the darkened holy space where silence fills the room.  The words rise forth, the songs linger in our being but in the midst of it all we are longing to feel the brush of the ashes being swept across our foreheads with purpose. We long to stand in the hush of the sanctuary knowing that God makes God's mark upon us and to stand in the silence as time feels suspended. The brush of the ashes helps us to glimpse the power of coming face to face with the Holy One.  We want to know that in the days to come we can once again experience the depth of death that leads us into a story of healing, beckons us into community, frees us, calls us into engagement with our whole being, and moves us forward into this life of redemption