Buttercups in Bloom

Almost 30 years ago I got on a church van with some of my closet friends ready to experience the special weekend.  We were headed to one of the coolest youth events around.  It was an event that was a  true right of passage for any United Methodist youth in middle Tennessee.  I had watched my oldest sister leave and return from this event numerous times and had awaited my turn.  That Friday night as I boarded the van there was a sense of wanting to fit in.... A longing to make an impression.... A desire to be known.... I wanted to be a part of this event called Warmth n Winter. I remember the theme to this day:  What's Love Got To Do With It?  I remember sitting in the old lodge at Camp Cedar Crest.  We were all crammed into the common space upstairs; jammed between the small hallway, open kitchen, stairwell and almost floor to ceiling windows that filled the entire side of the lodge.  On the wall behind the speaker and musician (back...

I sit here in a local coffee shop with my headphones plugged into my computer to help drown out the noise that surrounds me. A more mature couple is sitting a table over from me enjoying lunch and the presence of one another. Another young lady sits by herself playing on her IPad and waiting on her meal. The table beside me is filled with a men, a young adult, a priest and two older gentlemen.  The conversation is hard not to hear; not to be a part of to some degree. I want my music to quiet them, I want my words to flow upon the page that I am trying to capture as I write my sermon but something is happening that is pulling me into their conversation. A wandering is rising within me.  A questioning is forming and my head can barely concentrate on the words that are meant to be for my congregation on Sunday morning.  What is this wandering; why can I not stay focused on what is before me and the reality that I have a task before me? I cannot stay focused because...

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 som...

            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...

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 for...

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.....     ...

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. ...