To be Transfigured - and Transformed

Somehow, it seems like if a giant blizzard is going to come through NE South Dakota, it has to happen on a Saturday night. Which means I cancelled church so everyone would stay safe, warm, and off the roads (the state issued a no-travel advisory, and the interstates are closed).

I sure do wish I had known church were going to be cancelled before I put the work into preparing services and printing bulletins! ha. Since that isn't the case, and I have been terrible about blogging lately, I thought I'd take care of both and share the text of my sermon here....


I spent a couple of days away this week at a meeting in Memphis, TN. The meeting was the first of the new committee that I was asked to be a part of for the United Methodist Global AIDS Fund.

When I was asked to be a part of this committee, I was excited because for one thing, I didn't even know The United Methodist Church had a Global AIDS Fund. and to be honest, I feel like I don't know as much as I should about the HIV/AIDS pandemic that affects the whole world, let alone what is happening here in the US, or even more specifically here in South Dakota.

So I went to this meeting this week with an open mind and some excitement to learn more. More about the virus, more about what we can do about it, more about the ways it impacts all of us, even those who don't realize it.

I was only able to be there for about half of the meeting, and when I left I was significantly more disappointed than I expected. Disappointed because this brief meeting was even more life-giving and than I ever anticipated. I was overwhelmed with information within the first hour, and it continued to pour out for hours to come. We met for a couple of hours on Wednesday night and then 12 hours on Thursday, and by the time we wrapped up for the day on Thursday, I'm pretty sure its safe to say all of our heads were spinning, but also full of anticipation and hope for what may continue to come from their conversations that continued without me on Friday and Saturday.

And while I expect I will continue to digest what I have learned, heard, and seen for days - maybe even weeks - to come, there is one theme in particular that kept coming up throughout the meeting that continues to stand out above all others even now, leaving me to mull it over for the past few days.
    These one them circled around a simple but loaded word: Stigma.

In countless aspects of our lives, we stigmatize the people and places around us. The more distant we believe a person, place or issue is from us, the more likely it seems we are to believe the stereotypes we hear. Right?

And while on occasion stereotypes can be stated as positives, they are never actually good things. They always leave someone out, and they always lump people into categories. Stereotypes lead us to assume that because someone is a part of one group, they must have - or lack - certain qualities. In this way, stereotypes leave out basic logic.

During my meeting with the Global AIDS Fund in Memphis this week, this kind of negative and broad stereotypes of HIV/AIDS were discussed and evident as a part of every conversation we shared.

Because with HIV/AIDS, the stigmas are huge. Somehow, despite information we have access to that says otherwise, much of the global community continues to believe things like being HIV+ is a death sentence. We believe that everyone who is HIV+ must be sexually promiscuous. We believe HIV is something that mostly on affects "other" people. People far from here. People in distant places like Africa.

Of course none of these things are true. None of them.

And while I would love to share more with you about all I am learning - and will continue to learn - about HIV and stigmas like these, most of us will never take time to learn more or figure out what is true, because talking about these stigmas in particular makes us extremely uncomfortable. Talking about HIV/AIDS will require us to breach tough and uncomfortable topics that are a part of the human experience: topics like sex and human sexuality.

Topics we would much prefer to only talk about privately and never publicly. Topics like health care, education, and poverty.

All things we'd rather not talk about because, frankly, we are afraid.

Afraid of the unknown. Afraid of showing our own biases, expectations, hopes and visions that others may disagree with. Afraid of sharing visions we have of our lives that don't quite share the reality of circumstances around us.

We - and I say we to include myself here - are more often than not, afraid.

But our fear isn't our sin. Our sin is that because of our fear, we stop listening.

In our Gospel reading this morning (Luke 928-43a), we are told the story of Jesus' transfiguration. Literally, in this passage, 3 of Jesus' disciples- Peter and James and John- were witness to Jesus taking on a physical transformation and likeness of God while in prayer on the mountain.

As Jesus prayed, we are told, His clothes turned a dazzling white and his whole appearance, including His face, changed. The disciples gave witness to Moses and Elijah appearing and talking to Jesus about a departure.

A departure that the disciples did not yet understand, but that Jesus was already preparing for. You see, this moment of Jesus' transfiguration on the mountaintop is often considered the turning point between Jesus' public ministry, and Jesus' passion - Jesus' journey to the cross.

Not knowing what words had been shared between these three Godly men on the mountaintop, and not yet understanding what was yet to come, the disciples watched in awe, speaking only after the fact to give thanks to Jesus, acknowledging that it was good for them to have been there to give witness.

But listen to what happens next. In Luke 9:34-35 it reads,
    34While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!"

So often in Scripture when we are told someone was filled with fear, we hear the words, "fear not."

But this time, it boldly sticks out to me that this is not the case. Sometimes, we can't dictate how we feel or will react simply because we don't want to be afraid. Instead, overcoming our fear and living fully in spite of that fear, requires action.

Action like that required by the voice of God, speaking to the disciples and to us as he dictates, "listen!"

Listen.

A lost art, isn't it?

How often do we truly take time to listen. To take a break from sharing what we believe or think we know. To stop trying to teach. To stop trying to fill the silence...
    And to simply, listen.

To listen to those seeking to lead us, not because of our fear, but in spite of it.

To listen to and acknowledge as equals those who share some of our fear, no matter the reason for their fear.

   We all have things we are afraid of, and I can't help but to believe that in this passage, as Jesus prepared for the journey that would lead Him to the cross, Jesus might have even shared in some of that fear.
    But I imagine His fear being different. Not fear of what was about to happen to Him, and not a fear of the unknown as we so often have. For these things, Jesus knew were in God's hands. Instead, I can't help but to wonder if Jesus' fear weren't more about those around Him. Fear that His disciples, those he had come to rely on as His closest friends and support throughout His ministry, would allow their fear to stop them.

When things became tough or uncomfortable or or increasingly unfamiliar, the disciples became afraid. Just like we become afraid.

And it is when that fear surrounds us like a cloud of fog we are told the disciples literally entered into, our visibility, like theirs, decreases and we lose focus on what is important. Eventually we allow it to stop us all together, or worse, we turn and go back, for we know where to find the edge of the dense fog we've entered, and we decide it may well be better to live with clarity of the past than to carry on with that we can't see or understand in the future.

sound familiar?

There is safety in the familiar. The known. The trusted. A shared, concrete vision of what lies ahead.

But when the disciples lost that vision and were terrified in the midst of that dense cloud, they were not promised safety. They were not told not to be afraid.
    They were told to listen to the voice of Jesus.

To carry on. To move ahead into the unknown. To make space in their foggy, unclear surroundings for ideas, dreams, and visions to be more fully realized in the unknown future.

To do so, is to make room not for our own vision, but for the vision that accompanies the unforeseen miracles of Jesus working through our lives and the lives of those around us.

Miracles like the healing the disciples witnessed at the end of this passage. A miracle that allowed them the privilege of unexpectedly being "astounded by the greatness of God." (Luke 9:43)

And all of that because the disciples decided to follow the voice of God instead of their own. To not just face but embrace their fear and the unimaginable circumstances that accompanied it.

All of us hold this fear of the unknown within us, whether it is the people, places, or ideas that surround us. Most of us hold some bit of fear of the path our lives are taking when something comes up that is unknown or unfamiliar or unexpected.

The problem with that fear is not that we have it. Rather, it is the greater question of what we do with it.

Of how we are being called to move with - and beyond - our fear in such a way that we might more fully embrace God's call to listen.

On this, Transfiguration Sunday, may we seek to listen in such a way that we, like the Disciples, would hear the voice of God. That we would be so in touch with God, that we too might be changed, from the inside out.

May it be so.

Overflowing

I've had so many amazing conversations with incredible people from around the globe in the past couple of weeks that I can't even keep track of them all. I'm still processing much of what I heard, saw, experienced, learned. As I reflect on all of these things, my favorite hindsight discoveries are the ones about me and how I've changed.

Such as: Last week I ran into an old aquaintance I see now and then at different United Methodist gatherings. It didn't take long to recall that we originally met several years ago at a National Council of Churches General Assembly. I was only beginning to get involved in the Ecumenical movement then, but I loved it! Since then I have fallen out of connection and not been involved with any organized ecumenical work.

As our conversation continued, I was asked if I had considered/would consider applying for a scholarship to attend the World Council of Churches General Assembly in South Korea. It would be fantastic to get involved again! and better yet: I have never been to South Korea. What a great opportunity!

But then I heard words come out of my mouth that never would have a year (or even 6 months!?) ago. "I'd love to, but I just don't have time for another trip right now, and I certainly can't take up any more commitments."

Words that surprised me, but are every bit as true now as they were when they rolled off my tongue. And the best part? These words are not just true, but bring a great satisfaction to me. Right now, my life is overflowing not with commitments that are holding me back or requiring me to say, "no." Rather, my life is overflowing with so many great things that I can't imagine taking time away from them to do something else, even if the other things may also be things I would love.

I can't imagine saying yes right now because right now, my cup is full. More than that: my cup is overflowing.

Life is Good.

I am not the person I was a year ago. I am settled and content and happy to be spending time at home. I know I won't be getting on a plane for close to 6 months, and I couldn't be happier about it.

My, how times have changed! But God is good, and it is great to be in this place that I am called to. A place I am learning to call home.

Life is good.
     and my cup is overflowing.

Praise be to God.

A Season for Change

I've been scrolling through some old journal entries lately and reflecting in the parallels of seasons of change in my life. So far, I am really excited about this transition into my life in Clark, SD, and I have no reason to believe that will be changing any time soon. So while these are not words I have thought to say or write, I realize how very, very true they are for my life here and now.

And that is a beautiful thing. So I thought I would share them in their natural state of messiness.

"...and just like that... my life has changed. Again.

I'm thrown back into routines and expectations and that thing we call "life." I'm back. It's like I never left. So many things haven't changed. Yet they have in a way that is distancing and confusing and welcoming and exciting all at once.

The train [my car in SD] becomes a refuge. A big part of my life, to be sure. For better or worse.

So here we are: community new and old, all now a part of one another's lives. I am now acquainted with people who will play huge roles in my story of life.

I anticipate with countless layers of emotions the way those stories will play out."

For all of these things and more, I am Thankful.

Life Happens in the Transitions

I haven't quite figured out how to put into words the countless things I've been processing lately. There seem to just be too many things from too many places happening at once.

Enough that I just spent 5 minutes trying to figure out how to write or explain them, concluding only that I can't. So I guess that says something in itself.

It turns out when you're the
photographer, you aren't in many
photos: this is the best I have from GC!

The thing is: they all intersect. Every piece of my life is in flux right now, and yet they are all fluidly and undeniably interconnected. My work life is chaotic as I move from General Conference into Annual Conference season... but processing these things personally have been more difficult than the countless hours at work I have spent on them.

Oh, and Annual Conferences? Lets not forget that in the middle of the ones I'm traveling to for work, is the Dakotas Annual Conference: where I will be commissioned as a provisional elder! That's right folks, I'm finally doing it: I have an appointment in the Dakotas Conference this fall!

So there's that. Not just the appointment part, but the whole "OH MY GOSH: I'M ACTUALLY FINALLY TAKING AN APPOINTMENT!!!" part. I mean this both with great excitement, and with great intimidation, and mostly with great anticipation that holds both in what I think is a well-balanced tension.

Of course, with that also comes other changes. Some are obvious: I need to buy a car. I will miss the easy access to buses and trains but will be grateful to be able to drive my groceries home instead having to walk with them! That trades off too, though: I'll no longer have access to a Whole Foods or Trader Joes. Then there's that other big thing that sticks out: right now, I practically live on the road and out of a suitcase since I travel so much for work. But as a pastor, I'll stay put. A lot. I'm REALLY looking forward to settling in one place - in my own HOME! - but also a bit intimidated by what it may feel like to no longer have a need to monitor those plane ticket prices...

But before I can get that far, I have to wrap up my other pieces of life. I'm going to miss DC, the friends I've made, and cycling!! Oh, the cycling! I have not only a great training/riding partner who lives right above me, but we have access to some of the best trail systems in the country - and weather that lets us ride for extra long seasons!!

Not that I see them much these days, since I've been (and will be) traveling for General and Annual Conferences. Which will conclude for me by a week of debriefing in NYC as my Mission Intern position with GBGM draws near its end. Which, takes me full circle and...

and I find myself thinking and feeling and confused in these circles a lot these days.

Which is why I'm grateful my neighbor and cycling partner recently asked me to go to Yoga with her.

Yep: Yoga.

Never in my life have I been interested in yoga, but something about it just felt right this week. So I went. and on Monday night, we had a theme that has stuck with me all week:

Life happens in the transitions.

If that's not my life right now, I don't know what is.

I am transitioning in every aspect of my life. With my friends, my job, my vocation, my lifestyle. All of it. Every last piece of it is changing drastically. Not just my life, but I am "transitioning."

This week, I appreciate the reminder to stop thinking about all the transitions I'm experiencing and expecting, always anticipating the next one. Instead, I'm moving forward one day at a time, not just existing in the midst of these transitions, but truly living into them.

Because when we think about it, my yoga instructor is right: life is always transitioning. and Life happens in the transitions.

Namaste.

Reminiscing

(...I just found this in my drafts folder, dated  12/12/11 and thought I may as well post it, whether I intended to at the time or not. So old or not: enjoy!)

I have a friend who keeps posting one-word status updates and it reminds me of a colleague I had in South Africa who went through a similar phase.

I can't believe Christmas is nearly here, and in just over a week I'll be in South Dakota to celebrate with my biological family. This makes it difficult for me as I also spend a great deal of time thinking about my family in South Africa, missing them dearly, and wishing I could also be with them.

The weather is getting colder and soon the snow will be flying, and its strange to realize it would feel just as normal to be preparing for a braai or finding ways to avoid the tourists as they flock to the beach in the midst of hot, sun-filled days in the Cape.

I feel out of touch with Advent because I don't have people to light my Advent wreath with at home (Hannah and Rachel).

Last year at Christmas I was preparing for a marathon of worship services I would be leading - and my heart longs to be back in that role.

In 3 days - on December 15 - I will meet the one-year anniversary of the big operation I had last year to have melanoma removed from my right temple.

Oh, how things have changed in that year.

Over the past 2 weeks I have had opportunities to spend time with friends who know me well and with whom I have no need for "walls" or "filters" - and it has been good. And it has invited me to reflect on the many incredible people I have in my life, near and far.

and it has made me think: it has been a long, long time since I felt genuinely "homesick" for a people or place I call my own, and yet that is where I find myself. Oh, how this holiday season makes me long for the people, the places, and the family that are so far away. Perhaps moreso because it is such a season of change, and I wish I could be there helping out...

and as so much is changing, I find myself wishing more than ever I could be with my family on another continent.

Here's to Advent as a season of change and a season of anticipation. As I continue to process the many changes within myself over the past couple of years, I am also excitedly and impatiently awaiting the experience of what this next season shall bring for me.

My prayer for the next couple of weeks is that I not get too far ahead of myself in anticipation but that instead, I find moments to rest into all that is offered to me in the present.

'Tis the Season...

The seasons are a-changing. The leaves are starting the change, the rain is falling more often, and the temperatures are dropping.

What does all of this mean?

That its time to drink more tea, of course!

I've been LOVING drinking lots of rooibos tea that reminds me of "home" in South Africa. A touch of sweetener and a bit of milk (soy or almond, of course), and its perfect!

Recently, I've also been on a Chamomile kick. A friend shared her favorite brand of tea a few weeks ago, and it was so good my mouth waters for it just thinking about it!! (I mostly use bags, but as usual, they say the loose tea is better! I just need a nicer tea pot).

So rather than hold out on you as I sip my tea this morning, I'm going to encourage you: get some! I (obviously) highly recommend the chamomile tea from Adagio Teas. But to be fair: I haven't tried the others yet. I did order some peach iced tea... but I haven't tried it yet. Looking for a sweet deal? Leave me your email address and I can email you a $5 gift certificate for first-time customers.

I know I sound like an advertisement: but 'tis the season to drink tea! So I'm just doing my part to help you along. The gift certificates are free to send - and who doesn't love free money!? :)

Bidding Farewell

Today is an occasion for celebration. I havne’t worked for MFSA for long (nearly 6 months), but I have loved getting to know my co-workers in that time.

Today is the day that Rob, our current office manager, leaves us. On the best of terms, of course: he leaves us for his retirement!

I’m excited for Rob as he enters the next phase of his life. I'm excited for him to say goodbye to office work and early mornings with long commutes (he rises at 3am to get here in time!). I’m also sad to bid farewell to a friend whose physical presence I’ve been able to rely on in an office that is often “mobile” as many of us travel for work.

Most of all: I’m going to miss this:
Rob’s door. 

Every day, Rob reads comics. Sometimes, he finds great ones worth posting. This is only part of the collection of “worthwhile” comics Rob has found throughout his time working at MFSA. I hope he doesn’t take it down!

Today: we celebrate. We celebrate Rob – his work, his commitment, his colleagueship, the next chapter of his life. And we do it the best way anyone could:

With food!

Last night I spent the evening baking for just this occasion: I made banana bread, cookies, and, at his request, even chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing. This is my sacrifice and gift today: I managed enough restraint not to sample any of the chocolate (reminder: I am allergic to cocoa and sugar: both of which are potent in these delicious cupcakes!).

Off I must go now to celebrate, as our party begins and our lunch will be delievered soon.

Congrats on your retirement, Rob: you’ll be missed!

A Decade Later

A lot has changed in the last 10 years.

Like any other American I’ve ever talked to, I still remember vividly every detail of this day ten years ago. I remember where I was at 9:47am EST. I remember what I was wearing. I remember who I was with. I remember how I felt, and the overwhelming confusion and disbelief I experienced as the day seemed to move in slow motion.

It amazes me how much I remember about that day, and how the days, weeks and even months that immediately followed seemed to do so in slow motion. I was, after all, still a child. A youth of 17 years that thought I was all grown up and ready to take on the world. I had just begun my senior year of high school, and I was excited about venturing out into the world I (thought I) knew as I prepared for graduation the following May.

Yes, I remember it all with amazing detail. And yet it isn’t the details alone that I keep thinking about today: its how those details shaped, molded, changed me from the inside out. And in a strange way that I haven’t quite figured out how to articulate, I can’t help but be honest and say that I am grateful for the ways I have changed as a result of this terrible tragedy.

My eyes were immediately opened up to a world beyond my local community: I’ll confess I’d never gone out of my way to engage with national or global news, and it wasn’t readily available in the small, contently isolated town I lived in. For the first time, I realized there was a world of people out there who hated my country I’d been raised to love, and even more difficult was the realization that those people also hated me, purely because of where I was born. They didn’t know that really, I was a good person and didn’t want to do anyone harm. And they didn’t care about the individual stories of the people in those planes, the World Trade Center, or the Pentagon, either. Following from this realization, I also had another first: for the first time, I began to question our administrators, Republican politicians (I’d been raised to always question Democrat ones), and “defense” techniques.

I had a lot of questions.

The most powerful questions I immediately and unexpectedly faced came from my adversity to the hatred I was surrounded by. In the following days, weeks, and now years, I heard many racial slurs and ethnocentric statements referring to all people from the Middle East - especially “those Muslims.” I admittedly didn’t know the first thing about the Middle East or the politics around it. But Muslims? I kept hearing how terrible and hate-filled and anti-America they all were… and yet I couldn’t forget the details of my morning of September 11.

I couldn’t forget that since it was my first day back to school post-knee surgery, I got there early so I didn’t have to fight the hallway traffic on my crutches. I was just getting settled when my friend Basim came running in going on about details about some big accident at The World Trade Center in New York City. He turned the television on and we watched in horror as one building burned… and seconds later we watched the second plane go into the other tower…

I remember the details of lots of emotion, horror, confusion and fear that followed. I remember crying together with that small class, Basim included. and I remember that he was as confused and sad as any of us. I also remember that Basim seemed to fill in gaps for the many questions I had in my admittedly naive awareness of the world. You see: Basim already had a global perspective. I’d never thought much of it before, but Basim was from Pakistan. And he is a dedicated to his faith tradition: Islam. I had always respected him for this, especially in our white, “Christian” community.

So if Basim (and his family) were the only Muslims I’d ever met, and they were great, trustworthy, honorable people: then how could the world suddenly be afraid of and full of hate toward all Muslims? That certainly wasn’t my experience…

My naive questions have proven to be incredibly formative in the years since then. Instead of buying into the fear I’ve been sold, I have continued on living my life... working adamantly against that dreaded 4-letter F-word: Fear. Instead, I work toward living into Faith... and the love of ALL God has called us to...

I made the mistake of stopping and watching television for about 5 minutes this morning. I took a moment to mourn with the mourners. To listen to the sad voices reading names. To hear an interview clip from “the last survivor” who was pulled from the rubble. These stories are moving, and sad, and did their job of making me emotional, bringing me to tears as I relived those dreadful moments with the rest of the country…

and then I walked away. I couldn’t watch any more. I don’t want to forget (I never could) - but it isn’t healthy to re-live it, either. It was a terrible enough day to live through once. We can’t do it every year. I know I can’t. Not even on the 10th anniversary.

But I couldn’t let my sadness go, and I couldn’t figure out why.

So I moved on and walked to my boarding gate to take a seat. That’s right: my boarding gate. Today, on a day that most of my fellow citizens are most afraid to fly, I am not only flying, but flying into Washington DC’s National Airport: where my plane will touch down on a landing strip right next to the now fully-repaired Pentagon…

Why fly today? For one, I’ll be honest: it was convenient. and I didn’t really think about it when I booked the flight. I did realize it in plenty of time to have changed it: but why? To let  fear win? I do not believe in fear. Especially not this irrational, media-induced fear we have been sentenced to live with. On the contrary, lets be honest: security is so high today that it’s probably one of the safest days to fly.

So I am on my plane as I write this. And as I do so in an intentional stance of my rejection of the fear many want me to have, I do remember those whose lives were lost in 2001. But my sadness does not stop there.

Instead, most of my sadness is focused on the survivors. It is wrapped up in remembering victims of the fear-induced hatred that has engulfed and changed so many of my fellow American citizens.

The country I live in and that I am proud to be a citizen of is one whose citizens spent hours building sandbag walls around every house in my home community when they were threatened with flood waters. It is one that wasted no time arriving to help victims of the multitude of tornadoes that hit this past spring… And that took care of and celebrated with my teammates and I small town after small town when we were hot, hungry, thirsty and exhausted while riding our bicycles across America in the heat of summer.

That is my favorite picture of the America I love. It is vast and diverse and embraces the joy of community as we were able to realize that really: no matter where you come from, we are more alike than different.

The America I truly love is the one that opened my eyes up to the reality of the world as I watched the Twin Towers fall. As I watched people on the other side of the world dancing in the streets because we were suffering (an image I regrettably saw in reverse when Osama Bin Laden was killed…), I knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of such hatred for the first time. Living in my naive bubble in my small town in South Dakota, I really did not know that people hated our country, culture and people until that day.

So as we look back an talk about “10 years later” - that is what I keep thinking about. About how fear and anger have consumed much of our society. I wonder (perhaps hope?): is this the same as it has always been, and my eyes are more open to it now? Or, is there something we can do to stop it.

It all starts with one. As I sit aboard my American Airlines flight into DCA, I renew my pledge with you - all people of the internet (who are still reading). A pledge to do more to “act justly and love mercy” - and to walk HUMBLY with the God who has been so full of love, justice, and mercy for me.

Won’t you join me? I promise, the world will be a better place...

Detoxing

Today I officially started my detox.

It did occur to me as I rolled my nauseated and exhausted self out of bed for a 5:40am bike ride that this might not be the best day to start. But then I decided I could probably find an excuse not to start every day if I looked for one. So: there’s no time like the present.

I’m not gonna lie: I think its going to be tough. Not because its impossible, but because while I’m detoxing I’m also starting a new routine of supplements that I have to take. And on days like today, when I wasn’t feeling well anyway, it seemed impossible not to be thinking about the food I could (or could not) eat. All. Day. Long.

It also doesn’t help that the day just plain started off wrong: I eat cereal for breakfast every morning!! Its a routine I’ve had for years and LOVE. I don't even eat the sugar-packed ones: I am partial to Weetabix and Puffins Peanut Butter and Honey Nut Cheerios (ok, maybe more sugar in those). Sugar-packed or not: they have some… and they’re processed, naturally.

Detox = no processed food.

This will be good for me, I remind myself.

But my rhythm was off. The oats didn’t go down well with my upset tummy so I didn’t finish them. Which means I was hungry early.

A snack? No… I didn’t really have anything at the office I could snack on. So I settled for an early lunch. Of a (delicious, actually!) salad.

The problem? Salad doesn’t have as much sustenance as I’m used to, and I ate early… so I was hungry again by mid-afternoon. I’m sure there are options out there, but today, I’m feeling whiny and hungry and sickly (and sorry for myself, clearly).

But I’ll get there. God willing, I’ll get there. Just be patient with me, I say to myself over and over again. And now I ask it of you: this might be a long two week detox… and a difficult road thereafter. So won’t you pray with and for me? I have committed to always remember in my prayers as I cry out for my own “struggle” of so many foods I can’t eat… to also remember those who have no choices. Who are hungry and struggling to find food at all.

My prayer today, then, is that my restlessness into gratefulness. I have sought answers to being unwell for a long time now: I am working on being grateful for it. And most of all… I am seeking to be ever mindful of the many blessings and privileges these “challenges” represent. With every lettuce leaf I lift, may we I be praying (we be praying together) for those who have not even that.

...and of course I’m human, and therefore also praying for my self-pitied self, that I would grow into a place of genuine contentment, honest, and coping with all of these changes in my life.

Eating to Live

After months of seeing different doctors and having various tests done, I'm finally in a place of starting to be able to do something about it.

Being able to do something, of course, doesn't mean it will be easy or pleasant. But do something I shall anyway.

I've been on a "get healthy" - from the inside out - kick for about a year now. I decided I'd had enough of feeling "ok" being the standard, while many days brought less than that. In January my efforts led me to discover a severe dairy allergy: after having entirely removed all dairy product from my diet for 7 months now, if I have even a little it causes a severe, immediate reaction. To think I was poisoning my body all this time!

Since I still haven't been feeling up to par and all symptoms haven't all gone away, I've been running more tests and doing more research. I've been seeing a great doctor who specialized in holistic health (since regular doctors kept telling me I was fine and weren't interested in even testing for other allergies!). Today, I got results back from a hormone profile and from allergy tests.

...SURPRISE!?! We found LOTS of stuff to "fix!"

Perhaps the best thing about the "allergy" tests we did is that they weren't testing for immediate reactionary allergies. Instead, we did blood work and tested for "intolerances." Similar to the oh-so-familiar lactose intolerance many people have, we discovered my body has built up 17 intolerances. SEVENTEEN!! (Lactose is not one of them)

Some of these reactions were stronger than others: the goal is to eliminate the strong reactions from my diet for a full year, while beginning with only 6 months for the others. We can retest in a year or so if all goes as planned.

So... the moment of truth: what am I reacting to and needing to avoid? At the very, very top of my list of strong reactions:

CANE SUGAR

That's right... Freaking sugar! What ISNT sugar in? I can absolutely, easily avoid adding sugar to my diet. But eliminating it ALL - even in my favorite processed foods like sugar!?

Needless to say, I’m struggling a bit with not only the idea of such an adjustment, but with the practicality of if. I am determined to find a way, though… so I invite and welcome any extra prayers on this journey as I prepare to embark on a new journey of restructuring my entire diet… a task that I will easily admit is quite intimidating. But I know I can do it…

Of course… I’m always open to suggestions, recipe sharing, or folks who want to try it for a few weeks as a means of support! I promise to support you as you have supported me… and look forward to seeing results from this next adventure of life!

A Good Week for Change

Its been a good week for me.

Let me rephrase that: its been a much-needed great week for me!

Why, you ask? Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. Just a combination of small things. Things that are meaningful to me. Things that bring me joy.

Things like feeling more settled in this city I am foreign to. Things like connecting with new friends, and experiencing the joy of new relationships beginning. Things like hearing the stories of strangers (becoming friends) and how their "normal" lives are full of love, faith, passion and joy.

Things that, this week, have added up to help me shift from "doing ok" in this "foreign city of Washington DC" into a place of "settling in" in this place I am coming to call "home."

Why the sudden shift, you ask? I'm so glad you did.

Because on Wednesday, my bike arrived. I stayed home from work and waited for it on Tuesday and Wednesday. Then Wednesday after work the first friend I met in DC came over to help me build it: and it was a success! I have ridden every day :).

On Saturday I went looking for trails but didn't find any, so after searching and riding in circles for about an hour and a half, I decided a 10 mile ride was sufficient and went home. I was eager to ride more, though, so I signed up for "Bike DC" - the annual ride that benefits the Washington Bike Association and helps do things like put more trails and bike lanes in. I even got up early for it - I had to be there to register by 6:45am.

Sassy Sisters cycling group at Bike DC

I found a Meetup group to ride with, and discovered: it was facilitated by my upstairs neighbor! YEA! for having a neighbor who rides! I ended up riding with two other women, both of whom were semi-new to cycling so together we just took our time and rode purely for the enjoyment of riding. It was a bit strange (and awesome!) that I hadn't really been on a bike in nearly 2 years, and yet I was somehow the experienced rider that was able to answer their questions. We had a great time!!! Over main roads and even the interstate which were closed down for us, we stopped for water or photos or to say hi to friends along the way... it was a leisurely but great ride.

I intend to ride my bike to work tomorrow. I look forward to ways my bike shall continue to be an integral part of my life DC, and I am thrilled at the "new life" (positive energy!) I am getting at having it back in my life.

I always knew I missed my bike... but only this weekend did I realize how much. I am just grateful that as I discover this, I am also discovering a community that is just as excited to ride with and support me.

Its good to be back in the saddle.

A non-updating Update

Sometimes, I get behind on blogging.

At times like these, I get overwhelmed with how much I have to catch up on, as I don't know where to start. This only makes me fall further behind, and it seems to dig an impossible hole of blogging doom.

Now is one of those times. I even have several half-written blogs I thought about fixing up or even posting as they are. Then I decided that was a bad idea.

So here's what I'm going to do: nothing.

Unfortunately, there is just going to be a great big gap in this blog of mine, and if I get to it later, I'd like to say I'll update more and catch up here on the transition of life back in the US. But if I'm honest, I'd also like to say: that probably won't happen.

In short, here's a summary: I miss South Africa and my family there heaps and heaps, and I think of them every day. I look forward to when I can visit (or live there) again - hopefully sooner rather than later.
Fact 2: Some days are harder than others.
Fact 3: I also really like living in Washington, DC.
Fact 4: I am grateful that weather in Cape Town is similar to weather in DC, only we're going into summer, and them into winter. (DC wins!)
Fact 5: I believe my new appointment at MFSA is going to be full of challenges.
Fact 6: I feel up to those challenges, and feel like my strengths and gifts are a good fit for the needs of MFSA at this time.
Fact 7: That fit is really scary, as it will force me to work beyond my comfort zones.
Fact 8: Working beyond where we are comfortable is where I have seen the Holy Spirit most at work. I am really excited about this!

That's enough facts for now. More later.

Transitioning

Well... The time has come. I've been anticipating it with great hesitation for a while now, but I suppose there is nothing I could do to really be prepared for it. In the moments I think I'm ready, in the moments I think I know what to expect, its those moments that are followed by the crash of reality that I could never really be either of these things.

So here I sit. Waiting with sadness and grief of what I leave behind. Focusing on the joy (and positive growth from the sorrows) of all that has passed and become a part of me over the past 18 months. And reveling in excitement and anticipation for all that lies ahead.

Because today, my heart is full of grief as I have bid many people I love farewell.

I am nervous as I consider the questions associated with the ways I have changed from the inside out. Change I may not recognise for years to come, but which begs questions such as: how will 'home' feel different as a new person enters for the first time?

And despite all of this, I am confused and grateful for excitement as I prepare to board a plane to Ireland, where a new country and an old friend await me for a week of adventure. I am thrilled that I shall soon be reunited with family and friends I have not seen in a year and a half, not the least of whom include new additions such as my nephew Quintin.

So a cloud of emotion surrounds me today, and only one word seems to describe how they are linked:

Grateful.

Announcement

Well friends: it is now official! My US-based placement as a missionary has now been confirmed, and it is with great joy and excitement that I get to share it with you today!

Are you ready… ?

I am moving to…
       Washington, DC!

I will be working for…
       The Methodist Federation for Social Action (MFSA)!

My job title will be…
       “Associate for Movement Building” - with an emphasis on young people!

Which is a fancy way of saying…
       My focus will be on participating and leading events that foster theological reflection on social justice work… including but not limited to planning national events, working with social media outlets, engaging in education and witness of social justice issues...

Basically, I’m going to get to do three of my favorite things: invite and engage in dialogue, share theological reflections, and figure out how to turn those in to actual change and do-ing of social justice. And not just locally, but across the United Methodist denomination.

For lack of a better word to describe this job description I come up with only: AWESOME.

Really, truly: I could NOT be more excited about this placement! In so many ways, I feel it is perfect for the place God has been calling me to, and the ways God has been speaking to me: not just lately, but over the past several years.

The moment I read the email inviting me to consider this as a placement, a smile washed across my face and I was instantly excited about how apparently perfect this placement seemed. As time has passed and I have had time to further consider this placement over email and phone conversations with staff at mfsa, I have only grown more confident in this assignment.

Indeed, God’s hand has been with me in my journey to here, and indeed God continues to bless and encourage me. After a couple of years of chaos and confusion, I am exuberant as I consider the new direction my path is taking me, and it is with great anticipation that I prepare for what shall be written in the next few chapters of this crazy book I call my life.

I hope you’ll join me and continue to follow me here as I make my transition and enter into a new form of ministry over the next couple of years.

The Beginning of the End

It has begun.

Friday, I met a friend who lives on the other side of town for coffee… to bid one another farewell.

Today was my last Sunday at Plumstead Methodist Church.

Time is running away, slipping through my fingers quickly, slipping away before I realize it has passed.

I have begun saying farewell. I have had many “lasts.” And at the end of next week, I will depart South Africa.

It is strange that this time has come, and it still doesn’t feel entirely real. In part, I am grateful: that makes it easier. On the other hand, I wonder if this denial of sorts will not only make adjusting to life back in the US more difficult.

I am going to miss this place. These people. This climate. The smells, the sites, the sounds. There is no place like Cape Town, my favorite city in the world.

And yet… while I am sad to be going and refusing to think of the people I will miss the most… I am also really excited. Excited because of what is yet to come. Excited because I know God has called me to what is next. Excited because this ending, as with all endings, also brings with it a new beginning. And the new beginning that awaits me in the US is certainly one that God has called me to.

And so, while I am sad and torn and a bit numb when I think of leaving, I am left also joy-filled, for if I were to leave this place for any other or for any reason, it could only be because God has called me to do so. I am grateful to find myself in that space.

So where is this next place that I’m heading to? Watch this space and I’ll make that announcement here in the next couple of days… :)

Soaking It In

List making, closet-clearing, worship-leading, sermon-preaching, desk-sorting, paper-shuffling, paper recycling, schedule minimizing, attention averted, picture-sharing, recipe-collecting, exercise-avoiding, holiday-taking, sun-soaking, Bible-studying, suitcase-finding, plan-making, friend-connecting, excitement sharing, anticipation-holding, sadness-hiding...

These are just a few of the things I've been "doING" lately.
 I am finding that with each passing day and each passing task, I am drawing more near the final time I will be "doing" these things here. In this place. With these people.

And somehow, while I'm sad to be leaving, I am also beginning to greatly anticipate whatever is "next." I look forward to answers to that question soon, hopefully as soon as this week. And while I look forward to that, I also realize that I have learned in the past few weeks that it is possible to love a place and long to stay, but also to consider the alternative: that the time has come to go.

So I am working hard this week to continue on "do"ing, but also seeking to "be." To be present. To take a little extra notice of my surroundings. To smile and laugh more, and to soak in all that I am surrounded by now that I know I will greatly miss when I return to the US in just over a month's time.

Perhaps the next few weeks will bring with them photos of some of these people and places and sites and views that I am soaking up so that you can share the beauty I am surrounded by with me.

Surprises

The one thing that I stressed about or perhaps even least anticipated during my time here in Plumstead was the preaching. For the first time in my life, I was asked to preach at the church/in the circuit regularly, slowly moving from once the first month into every two weeks and finally every week: including Christmas Day and Watch Night services.

Where I come from the US (or more specifically the UMC), you don’t preach often unless you’ve been ordained. So while I did learn a bit about preaching while in Seminary, I haven’t had a lot of opportunity to practice.

Well, here I am, and here is the good news: I survived. Better news? I LOVED it! (shhh!)

As it turns out, this big, scary, exciting opportunity to preach and lead worship regularly, is something that I love to do! I cannot begin to describe to you how great it is to feel affirmed in this huge piece of my calling into ministry.

The truth is, I was intimidated and nervous and perhaps even anxious about preaching (enough that I actively avoided opportunities to preach in the past). Plumstead changed this only because there was a need that I could help to meet: and how does one say no to that? Yet what started as a need led me to discover that the more I was preaching, the less it felt like a “task” - and the more it has begun to feel like a “calling.”

Just as I’ve begun to fall into routine and realize the joy I receive from this type of ministry, I came to another realization:

This morning was my last Sunday preaching at Plumstead Methodist Church. and I don’t know how long it might be until I’m in a post that allows me to preach regularly again.

There are many, many ways my time in Plumstead has been a blessing to me. Today, I am grateful for this opportunity - and this revelation.

So though I was not ready to say goodbye to you today when you surprised me with a parting gift, to you, Plumstead Methodist Church, I say: Thank you.

Moving Uncomfortably Slow

Its been a while since I updated, and things have been slow to get moving here. It is taking time to get to know people, to network, to become acquainted with the community I will be working with over the next few months.

It has been a slow journey to get moving, and, honestly, I have resented that at some times. I am used to being busy, all the time. When at SHADE, it felt like there was always something to do, always a deadline to meet. While it was (mostly) fulfilling work, we worked hard, long hours, and it was exhausting. Now that I’m on the other side of the spectrum, I don’t really know what to do with myself!

I am grateful for the support I have received and the encouragement to “take advantage” of this time. I know those words are right, but it is a difficult shift of mind and body (and spirit). I am working on not feeling guilty about not working when there is not work to do. Or not feeling guilty for having time off during “business hours” even when I know I have to go back to “work” for evening meetings or Bible Studies… or on Sunday mornings, for that matter.

Truly, I know better than to complain about there not being work to do in a church. There is ALWAYS work to be done in a church and I am well aware of that! But I am looking forward to investing more in the work I have come here to do, and until that ball is rolling a bit faster, I imagine I will continue to struggle with the “in between.” I just pray that until then, I will find a way to appreciate the gift of time that has been granted to me.

After all, after everything I have been through in the past few months, this “time” is likely just what I need. Now I must just make a way to live into that more fully…

A Running Start

Today was my first full day in Cape Town, and it was certainly an eventful one.

It started beautiful with a peaceful (dry!) walk to the Plumstead Methodist Church, where I how great it is to be in “family worship” and to have a sermon be just the words I didn’t know I needed to hear. It was a good reminder of why I have come to love the church and faith communities so much. It has been a long time since I have had a church I could call home, and yet there is something about PMC that gives me that feeling every time, even as I am only beginning to get to know this community.

After church I had breakfast and spent the rest of the morning/early afternoon doing one of my favorite things that I haven’t done in months: I spent the morning reading the newspaper. Funny how its the small things that can make one so content.

Mid-afternoon I went with Pete and Lisa to another church in the circuit. The youth at the Methodist Church in Vryground, an informal settlement within our circuit, invited us for a program they prepared. They had spent time learning about their culture and invited us so they may have an audience to share it with. This was also their effort at a delayed “67 minutes” of volunteer service in honor of Nelson Mandela. (Mandela asked that for his birthday this year, every South African give 67 minutes of their time back to the community. 67 - in honor of the 67 years of his life he has given to community service. The youth were on retreat on Mandela’s birthday, so they decided to make it up today instead of skip it). The singing, dancing and sharing of food were incredible reminders of the beautiful mix of cultures and traditions we are living so nearby, and yet have so few opportunities to interact with and live into.

This evening, we (the whole family and I) went to see a stage production of Mama Mia! It was the first time I’ve been able to see it live, and it was great! As happens every time, I was marveled at the genius of how so many hit songs were put together to form this story line. The talent was incredible, from the acting to the dancing, and least of all the singing: the vocals really were phenomenal- and made the show. The costumes didn’t hurt much either, though, with an abundance of hilarious sequins and sparkles reminiscent of the age of ABBA. As great as the show was, I must confess: topping it off for me was an adorable little girl sitting in front of me who would get my attention every once in a while so she could say hello and get a smile and wave from me. She was great, and really added to the show in her own precious little way.

Indeed, this was an eventful day and a certain kick-start to my stay in Cape Town. While I anticipate a bit of a slower start to work and daily routines as I begin to settle in, I am grateful for such an incredible introduction to the local church, community, and recreation all in one day. I look forward to what the days ahead hold.

A Promise of Hope

As I sit to type this, I’m curled up in a blanket next to a heater in the living room of my new home.

Today I moved to Cape Town. The gloomy, rainy weather greeted me with a shared emotion as I walked off the plane contemplative of my new life that begins today. It has been a difficult several months that have brought me to this place, and it is difficult to bid the people and places I have grown to love farewell. It is with a heavy heart that I move forward, and with a joyful one that I celebrate this new chapter as it begins.

I have to tell you - this time, the joy doesn’t come as easy as the sorrow. But I move forward as I remember the countless blessings that are before me...

I celebrate because I am blessed to be welcomed as a part of the family with whom I will now share a home; there is no better feeling than to know I am truly welcome, and know no one else with whom I could better trust to walk with me through this transition. Beyond family, Rev. Grassow has also been a great mentor to me, and I look forward to learning from him through the work and ministry we will share over the next few months.

For though the rain may come and the challenges roll in with the Cape wind, even through the gloom and gray skies, I cannot forget about one significant part of this gray, gloomy day: a rainbow was shinning brightly today, revealing itself from between the house and the trees. So goes life. No matter the challenges, to matter the struggle, no matter how great or difficult life may be, there is always a rainbow: there is always something to look forward to. Always something shinning brighter, something more to strive for. Always a hope of what tomorrow may bring.

So as I look forward to easier days of sunshine and clear skies, I give thanks for days like today when the reality of life changing before us has opportunity to sink in. and I give thanks for the many people in my life who have walked/are walking through the gloomy days with me, who are patient with me when I am the one in whom the storm brews, and who are the rainbows in my life: constant reminders of the promise of hope, love, and life that sits before us.