There has been WAY too much hugging in my life lately. If you know me at all, you know that I really don't like to be touched at all. Pretty much anyone but Joe will be shut down. My friend Jessie even asks if she can hug me (She's a hugger). But, for the last month I feel like I have been doing nothing but hugging. Between volunteering in the flood areas, my dad's retirement, and two funerals, I have probably hugged a billion people. OK maybe just several hundred. What is it about suffering and death that makes people hug?
I remember a sermon that one of my classmates gave during our preaching class. She was talking about the bleeding women who simply touched Jesus and was healed (both in body and in spirit). She was healed from the power of touch and Jesus (pretty much) always healed with a touch. My classmate talked about the importance of touch for healing purposes and I completely agree.
If I have had a bad day, I wait for Joe to come home and get myself a good, big hug. I don't have to tell him what's wrong, he doesn't have to say it's ok- I just need touch. I have realized through the flood and the funerals that a touch says things that your words can't. "I'm sorry for your loss" only goes so far. Many times I have no other words. This is all we can do. Just by touching someone we are taking on (or bearing) some of their suffering and pain and offering ourselves (making ourselves vulnerable... ugh).
One of my field education pastors when praying about or with those who were ill, would always say "God, wrap your loving arms around them." I always thought that was a strange image and not one I was really comfortable with. But, the more suffering I see and the more people I hug (voluntarily) the image makes more sense. We are praying for God to touch them, for the ill or grieving to feel God's presence in a very real way. In the way that I go to Joe and just need a hug. Also, when we offer sincere touch and hugs, we are offering ourselves but we are also representing God. We are making the comfort of God REAL to these people! Especially those who can't recognize him on their own.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
A Blast from the Past
When I left my hometown in the fall of 2002, fresh out of high school, I vowed that I would never return. Well, other than visiting my parents on holidays of course. I severed all ties, except for a select few and was determined to move on with my life. I left behind "mean girls" and other drama to move on to my new life.
I am back. I know I know, I have been back a year. I have run into ex-boyfriends at the Mexican restaurants, old teachers in Walmart, and people that I really didn't want to see at weddings. I have made awesome new friendships and rekindled some old ones. Key word.... some.
But, it is funeral season (Trust me, I was able to compare the two funeral homes today with a list of pros and cons). And I live in a small town in the south, if there is a funeral and you know the person, the person's family, or the person's dog, you show up... with massive amount of food. Today, I spent an hour and a half with one of those people who I never really wanted to see again because we were at a funeral of a close friend. It's amazing that after almost 8 years how much anger, resentment, and bitterness can still be in my heart.
I figured with 8 years and people being out of my life that I would be over it, but nooo. Forgiveness is illusive. Forgetting and avoiding is not forgiving. I am angry and I am angry that she continued to be in the life of my friends and was there when I wasn't. I remember the little things that I had forgotten, like how even someone else's mom's funeral could be about her (and that was 8 years ago- we have funeral issues).
I got to see some awesome people that I hadn't seen in 8 years and probably won't see again for another 8 but all I can think about it how I had to spend an hour with her. We were polite, we remembered (some good and some bad). I remember that she knows me. We were talking about my prison ministry and she even said "you need to be in the middle of it don't you?" Not in a bad way- but in the way that Ive talked about before- in the midst of suffering doing something tangible.
I tell my youth consistently to forgive- even if it takes awhile. But when is it forgiveness and when is it just forgetting? Just choosing not to think about it or talk about it. Or, if we do talk about it- we make illusions and references but never really get to the issue and never really reconcile. I don't mean reconcile in a surface way- like a battered wife returned to a dangerous marriage just because he says I'm sorry, but to truly say "This is how you have hurt me, How have I hurt you?" "What can I say or do to make this right?" and then going your separate ways in peace and a spirit of forgiveness with no anger or regrets.
I think the last 8 years have been more about forgetting than anything. There is no more running, no more classes in forgiveness and reconciliation. But instead, sitting and being and trying to LIVE forgiveness.
I am back. I know I know, I have been back a year. I have run into ex-boyfriends at the Mexican restaurants, old teachers in Walmart, and people that I really didn't want to see at weddings. I have made awesome new friendships and rekindled some old ones. Key word.... some.
But, it is funeral season (Trust me, I was able to compare the two funeral homes today with a list of pros and cons). And I live in a small town in the south, if there is a funeral and you know the person, the person's family, or the person's dog, you show up... with massive amount of food. Today, I spent an hour and a half with one of those people who I never really wanted to see again because we were at a funeral of a close friend. It's amazing that after almost 8 years how much anger, resentment, and bitterness can still be in my heart.
I figured with 8 years and people being out of my life that I would be over it, but nooo. Forgiveness is illusive. Forgetting and avoiding is not forgiving. I am angry and I am angry that she continued to be in the life of my friends and was there when I wasn't. I remember the little things that I had forgotten, like how even someone else's mom's funeral could be about her (and that was 8 years ago- we have funeral issues).
I got to see some awesome people that I hadn't seen in 8 years and probably won't see again for another 8 but all I can think about it how I had to spend an hour with her. We were polite, we remembered (some good and some bad). I remember that she knows me. We were talking about my prison ministry and she even said "you need to be in the middle of it don't you?" Not in a bad way- but in the way that Ive talked about before- in the midst of suffering doing something tangible.
I tell my youth consistently to forgive- even if it takes awhile. But when is it forgiveness and when is it just forgetting? Just choosing not to think about it or talk about it. Or, if we do talk about it- we make illusions and references but never really get to the issue and never really reconcile. I don't mean reconcile in a surface way- like a battered wife returned to a dangerous marriage just because he says I'm sorry, but to truly say "This is how you have hurt me, How have I hurt you?" "What can I say or do to make this right?" and then going your separate ways in peace and a spirit of forgiveness with no anger or regrets.
I think the last 8 years have been more about forgetting than anything. There is no more running, no more classes in forgiveness and reconciliation. But instead, sitting and being and trying to LIVE forgiveness.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Doin' what I do
I haven't been posting awhile partly because I have been cranky and partly because I have been doin' what I do. I have been living into my deacon-ness by serving others and by trying to witness to God in a broken world.
First of all, a huge flood hit Nashville and other surrounding areas including towns that were about a half hour away from me. It was awful sitting in front of the TV and watching the water rise over people's homes and neighborhoods and not being able to do anything about it. Knowing that families and communities would be without homes and school. If you haven't heard about it or seen pictures- go to you tube and search for Nashville flood. I knew that I couldn't sit in my house and do nothing! I needed to get my hands dirty. I needed to be with people and grieve and rejoice with them.
One of my good friends is a youth pastor in one of the counties that was hit badly (only 30 minutes away from me!) so, I went to help at the Donation/Distribution Center. You don't really get the full effect of the flood even by pictures. We had families that came in after not eating for days. We had people who are going to be bulldozing their homes. People came in to the center in tears and with literally the clothing on their back....
About a week later, my grandmother passed away. And my family asked me to do the service. I felt like the biggest hypocrite. My grandmother was a Christian so it wasn't that. My family just didn't treat her very well in life and now we were mourning her death. For myself, there was a lot of regret about the things I should have said and things I should have done. It was incredibly hard to talk about her being a loving mother when the family didn't think that she was.
What I realized in all this, is that this is why I am a deacon (called to word and service). I need to be in the middle of serving the homeless and the hungry. I need to get my hands dirty. If I can't do that, then I need to be inspiring people directly to get THEIR hands dirty. I need to be outside the church, being the church in the world. There is something inside me (I suspect the Holy Spirit) that calls me to be a servant first and a leader second. My leadership in this experience grew out of first a desire and willingness to do something!
As far as the funeral goes, I was able to glorify God and the life of my grandmother, because I know that God is more loving and more gracious in death, than we are to one another in life. I need to speak words of forgiveness and new life after a hard life filled with pain, suffering, and unforgiveness. It is to be witness of hope in a broken and hurting family and world.
These past few weeks, I may not have been doing much of my job as a "youth minister"but, I have been doing what it is that God has called me to. Praise be to God!
First of all, a huge flood hit Nashville and other surrounding areas including towns that were about a half hour away from me. It was awful sitting in front of the TV and watching the water rise over people's homes and neighborhoods and not being able to do anything about it. Knowing that families and communities would be without homes and school. If you haven't heard about it or seen pictures- go to you tube and search for Nashville flood. I knew that I couldn't sit in my house and do nothing! I needed to get my hands dirty. I needed to be with people and grieve and rejoice with them.
One of my good friends is a youth pastor in one of the counties that was hit badly (only 30 minutes away from me!) so, I went to help at the Donation/Distribution Center. You don't really get the full effect of the flood even by pictures. We had families that came in after not eating for days. We had people who are going to be bulldozing their homes. People came in to the center in tears and with literally the clothing on their back....
About a week later, my grandmother passed away. And my family asked me to do the service. I felt like the biggest hypocrite. My grandmother was a Christian so it wasn't that. My family just didn't treat her very well in life and now we were mourning her death. For myself, there was a lot of regret about the things I should have said and things I should have done. It was incredibly hard to talk about her being a loving mother when the family didn't think that she was.
What I realized in all this, is that this is why I am a deacon (called to word and service). I need to be in the middle of serving the homeless and the hungry. I need to get my hands dirty. If I can't do that, then I need to be inspiring people directly to get THEIR hands dirty. I need to be outside the church, being the church in the world. There is something inside me (I suspect the Holy Spirit) that calls me to be a servant first and a leader second. My leadership in this experience grew out of first a desire and willingness to do something!
As far as the funeral goes, I was able to glorify God and the life of my grandmother, because I know that God is more loving and more gracious in death, than we are to one another in life. I need to speak words of forgiveness and new life after a hard life filled with pain, suffering, and unforgiveness. It is to be witness of hope in a broken and hurting family and world.
These past few weeks, I may not have been doing much of my job as a "youth minister"but, I have been doing what it is that God has called me to. Praise be to God!
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