An Advent Lament

I love my job. It is fulfilling and rewarding and... well, incredibly, incredibly special. But...

I am exhausted.

Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Exhausted.

We have hit mid-December, and every time I look down at my calendar, a little piece of me cries. You see, my calendar is full. Every single day I have at least one meeting or Christmas luncheon or work activity or pageant practice or... something. On top of all my normal somethings. Every. single. day. in. December.

So, each morning, I sit at my desk and make a to-do list that is about twice as long as the lists I made each day throughout the rest of the year. And each morning, I wonder how I will possibly get everything done, knowing that nothing can be put off until tomorrow because there won't be time then, either. Sleep is becoming optional and caffeine necessary. Physical exhaustion has taken over.

I have a Christmas tree in my office that I tend to stare at when I am feeling just a tad overwhelmed. I let my kids decorate it a few weeks ago, and one of them placed two ornaments on the same branch right at the very top of the tree. The ornaments are words, covered in sparkly glitter, that seem to jump at you when the twinkle lights hit them just right. Joy. Peace. I love these words, as they remind me of what I cherish so much about Christmas. This year, however, it feels that my world is fraught with the antithesis of these words.

Each day, I am in relationship with people who have lost loved ones. Who have lost jobs. Who are anxious that such a loss is coming. Each day, as I am freezing my warmly dressed behind off, I pass by friends out in the snow who have no place to go to get warm or fed. I watch people in stores spend hundreds-- maybe even thousands-- of dollars at the check-out counter but arent willing to drop even a dollar in the bucket as they pass that person ringing a bell.

I attended a beautiful service this Sunday that was designed for those who have lost loved ones. It was an opportunity for people to have a moment of mourning in the midst of a season where we are expected (required?) to be continuously joyful. As I looked around the room and cried with friends who had lost children or spouses or parents this year, as I remembered those loved ones I had lost, as we lit candles in remembrance of them, I couldnt help but to compare the emotions of that moment with the ones we "should" have this time of year. Emotional exhaustion has taken over.

Recently, in our office, a visitor came in and stopped to chat with several of us who were about to eat our lunch. The lady, smiling brightly, bubbled as she said to us, "It must be the most amazing and joyous thing to work in a church at Christmas!" As she walked away, there was an audible groan from all of us. Yes, Advent and Christmas in the church can be magical. When you look at the 100 bikes that have been donated for charity sitting in our commons area. When you prepare to welcome the homeless guests in our gym for a week and hear how excited our church members are to cook them meals. When you have a child ask you if they can be a penguin in the nativity scene of the Christmas pageant. When you have to explain what the words "haste," and "laud" mean to kids or come up with an answer to why we sing Gloria about egg shells.

Perhaps, even more so, when I take a moment to look around and think, "Joy to the World! The Lord is come! Let earth receive her King!" Unfortunately, those moments are few and far between. During the Advent season, we staffers preach and teach about patiently waiting for the coming of Christ. We encourage congregants to be counter-cultural and bask in the glory of God's coming to earth rather than to be swept up in the hustle and bustle of the season. All the while, we do just the opposite. We double our to-do lists, we have extra services, we plan and implement more activities and mission events and christmas concerts and bible studies. We do more visits (the holidays are a lonely time for some) and say "yes" to more things because... well, it's Christmas. We give up our days off and neglect our home/ social lives. We practice poor self care. We worry about end of year budgets and deadlines and paperwork. And sometimes I wonder to myself, "Have I... has the Church... forgotten the meaning of Christmas?"

I dont think we have-- I'm pretty sure Jesus will still end up in our literal and proverbial mangers next week, but I do know this: we are spiritually exhausted. I am spiritually exhausted.

When I lay on my couch at night, staring at the ceiling, thinking of how I have neglected my family and friends and dog, thinking of how those Christmas cards probably wont get sent out, thinking of how my reappearance into the dating world is colored by the fact that I dont actually have time to devote attention to another person, thinking about how all I really want for Christmas is 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep...or, worse, for it just to be "over"...

Well, I am pretty sure this is not what Jesus would do. In fact, I think he would be asking me why the things I do in ministry are preventing me from actually doing ministry. And I would have no good answer. *sigh*

All you need is Love

Happy Wednesday!

Last year, at the beginning of Advent, I undertook a project that was a thorn in my side. I decided, on a whim, that I needed eight 4'x6' foot backdrops. I needed them built and primed. Oh yeah, and I wanted them designed and painted, too, in the Advent theme. So for two straight weeks, I ate, drank and breathed those boards. Sometimes, I look down at my hands and still think I see hints of purple and pink paint there.

Tonight, as our children were practicing for the Christmas pageant, I couldnt help but stare at the boards set up behind them. Hope. Peace. Joy. Love. I had been thinking about what I would write in this message to you tonight and, because we are focusing on Joy, I kept trying to make something work. Joy is pink and stands out from the others... Joy looks and feels different... Joy (to the world)...Joy (down in my heart)...Joy (to the fishes in the deep blue sea)... I had nothing.

Rather, I kept coming back to the "Love" board and remembering a quote from one of my very favorite TV shows. In the show, the main character says to one of the other characters: "Sometimes love isn't always enough." And after a brief, very thoughtful moment, he meets her gaze and replies, "Yeah, it is. You go without it long enough, and you realize... it's everything."

Obviously, the characters here were talking about romantic love, but tonight I have been thinking about the many kinds of love and how hard it must be for those who go without it. Especially during this time of year, we are hyper-aware of those people all around us who go without. Without homes. Without jobs. Without food. Without Christmas gifts. We donate our time and money and gifts to organizations. We drop change in the buckets outside of stores and pick angels off of trees. We give generously from our wallets... but, I wonder if we give just as generously from our hearts.

If you are like me, it's "easy" to pick out a toy or donate some money or even cook a meal for those people who are struggling at Christmas; it is much harder to love on someone by being transparent and present. This time of year is not just about donating food to the hungry, but sitting down and eating with them. It is not just about giving a child a toy, but playing with and mentoring them. It is not just about dropping cookies off to your lonely elderly neighbor, but about spending a few minutes talking with them.

Friends, there are many people all around us who are going without love. People who are alone. People who are hurting. People who are hungry and cold and in pain. People in hospitals with no family close by. People on the streets with no one to turn to. People who know brokenness, addiction, depression, or loss. People who need to be reminded of their worth in the eyes of God and you.

As we speed towards Christmas in the next couple weeks, I offer you this challenge: open your wallets, donate your gifts, provide people with meals. But also, and most importantly, offer someone--who might not otherwise receive it-- love. Offer them a hug, a listening ear, a sense of self-worth and dignity. You see, money and gifts are not always enough, but-- for those who go without it long enough-- love, well, it's everything. 

Sending you love and joy this night,
Amanda

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Today is one of those days. You know the kind. The clouds are gray and swollen and your stomach flutters in anticipation of the coming snow. Wrapped in a quilt and snuggled in your warm home with a cup of cocoa, you sit and watch... prepared for that which has been promised to you-- a magical, beautiful, hopeful scene of glorious snowflakes.

As I sit and wait, I am reminded of a handful of conversations I have had in the last 24 hours. It seems that many of my friends, whether men or women, single or married, working or in school, happy or sad, with or without children... many of them have this same sentiment: we're all waiting in anticipation for our life to "begin."

Yesterday, I laughed with several friends as we semi-jokingly discussed the merits and need for a Yenta. This morning, someone sought my advice about "game-playing" and he asked me:  in regards to other people, how transparent is too transparent? This afternoon, I chatted with a friend who struggles with complacency with their life and fear of trying something new.

In each of these conversations, the topic always came back to this truth: we are waiting for our life to begin. It is as if we believe that only once we are married, or have a certain job, or have a child, or buy a house, or fight for ourselves, or travel the world, or make a lot of money, or... only then, will our life truly begin.

As I have tossed this idea around today and taken stock of my own life, I realize that this is true for me as well. I keep waiting for... I don't know what. For my life to look the way I want it to, perhaps?  As any of my friends will attest, I am no risk taker. I live in a world of beige. I always pick the path well-traveled. I am sensible and vanilla and... boring. I have big dreams but rarely pursue them or do anything to achieve them. I avoid vulnerability and often fear looking like a fool in front of others. The irony, though, is that those times when I have protected my ego at all costs are the times when I have been the most foolish. They are the times I have missed out on something spectacular because I was afraid, because I wasn't willing to trust, because I was insecure, because I was stubborn.

I cant not help but wonder how I think my life will ever "begin" if I am not willing to take a risk.

Then, I remember this truth: I am in my home, curled up with a quilt by the Christmas tree. There is a Christmas movie on tv and cupcakes baking in the oven. My pup is snoring quietly beside me and my phone keeps buzzing as family and friends call to share a piece of their life with me. Yes, I am waiting for the snow to work it's beauty and magic in my day, to add a special glisten to my afternoon, but my day is already full of love and joy and pure happiness.

Sure, those snowflakes will add to the splendor, but even if the snow doesn't fall, my life has begun. And it is already good and special and magical, just the way it is.

Joy to the World!

Friends,

Happy Wednesday!

"Rejoice in the Lord always! Again, I say: Rejoice!" -Philippians 4:4

Do you ever find it hard to be joyful? Today, we welcome in the month of December. A time of holidays and family and friends. We wait in anticipation for the celebration of Christ's birth and everywhere you go, it seems people are filled with cheer and love. In children's ministry this month, we are focusing on the topic of Joy and, as I was reading the material today, this line stuck out to me: "finding joy and peace in the Lord, even when things don't go your way."

Perhaps I am in the minority, but things rarely go the way I want or plan.

Life is full of loops and turns and twists. And disappointments. And hurt. And brokenness. Some of us are worried about our jobs, or paying our bills, or where our next meal will come from. Some of us are struggling with health issues or loneliness or broken families or mourning the loss of loved ones. Some of us read the verse above and think, "What do I have to rejoice about?"

For those of you who have been following these weekly devotions for the last year, you know that I don't believe in sugar coating. I don't think that being a Christian is about offering trite platitudes. I wrestle with a lot of topics the same way you do, and so I spent all morning asking myself how I could write to you about Joy without glossing over the realities of pain in many of our lives.

Just as I was about to give up and "forget" to write today's Wednesday Words, God reminded me of this:

Today is World AIDS Day. Today is the 55th anniversary of Rosa Parks' stand against racial injustice. Today is the first day of Hanukkah. Today, we remember President Lincoln's 1862 State of the Union Address, where he began with these words:  "Since your last annual assembling, another year of health and bountiful harvests has passed, and while it has not pleased the Almighty to bless us with a return of peace, we can but press on, guided by the best light He gives us, trusting that in His own good time and wise way all will yet be well."

As I thought about those struggling with disease and death and malnutrition and racism and religious persecution and war, I was reminded of why I follow Christ in the first place. Jesus did not come to earth to offer us perfect lives. In Luke 4 (and Isaiah 58... and pretty much the entire Gospel!), the Bible tells us that Jesus came to dwell among his people. To live in the midst of the suffering and pain and to walk with us. The thing I often find most beautiful about my faith is that God did not come to earth in worldly majesty, but in the heart of poverty and persecution.

Here is our Joy, friends!

Joy is not that our lives are perfect or that everything always goes our way. Rather, Joy is knowing that we have a God who stands with us, in both times of abundance and times of scarcity. We have a God who stands with us in times of peace and times of war. We have a God who stands with us in times of health and times of sickness. We have a God who stands with us always. There is much joy in the love and presence of our Lord and "we can but press on, guided by the best light He gives us, trusting that in His own good time and wise way all will yet be well."

Rejoice in the Lord always. Again, I'll say: Rejoice!

Blessings and Joy to all of you,

Amanda

Perspective Shifted

Happy Wednesday!

As we are only one week away from Thanksgiving (my very favorite holiday!), I have spent a lot of time this week thinking about things that I am thankful for. Every year, it seems to me, my list is mostly the same. I am thankful for my family and my friends and... blah blah blah all of the other cookie cutter answers.

Earlier this week, however, I was challenged and inspired to shift my perspective and find ways to be thankful for the things that I usually grumble about during this time of year. Some of these are my own, some are borrowed from others.

I am thankful for a full calendar of events and activities, because it means that I have a job and friends.
I am thankful for student loan bills, because it means that I was able to get a great education.
I am thankful for the clothes that might be a little snug, because it means I have more than enough to eat.
I am thankful for the housework that needs doing, because it means I have a home.
I am thankful for all of the complaining I hear about the government, because it means we have freedom of speech.
I am thankful for the people who push my buttons and force me out of my comfort zone, because they make me into a better, more patient, more understanding person.
I am thankful for the parking spot at the far end of the lot, because it means that I have transportation, and the ability to walk.
I am thankful for my heating bill, because it means I am warm.
I am thankful for the never-ending loads of laundry, because it means I have clothes to wear.
I am thankful for having to take the dog out, in the middle of the night, in the cold, because it means that I am a good mommy.
I am thankful for that one annoying Christmas song that is overplayed on the radio, because it means I can hear.
I am thankful for weariness at the end of the day, because it means I have been productive.
I am thankful for broken hearts and mourning losses, because it means I have loved others.
I am thankful for slightly intrusive friends and family, because it means that others love me.
I am thankful for 14-hour car rides, because it means I am able to be home for the holiday.
I am thankful for the grumpy people out Christmas shopping, because they remind me to check my own attitude. 
I am thankful for the stress of gift giving, because it means I am being thoughtful of others.
I am thankful for arguments with others, because it means that I am passionate about what I believe.
I am thankful for having to ask forgiveness (probably after said argument), because it means that I understand that seeking and granting true forgiveness are the only ways to heal brokenness.

... and especially this year, I am thankful for all of my children, hyped up on candy canes and cookies, who ask me a million questions, make messes, and often require my undivided attention, because it means that I am in relationship with them and have the opportunity to teach them about loving God and loving people. And, because I get to learn from them every day how to have the faith and love of a child. There are few greater gifts in my life than that.

I pray this week, as we head into a season of Thanksgiving and Advent, that God will move in our hearts and shift our perspectives so that we will find the many blessings God has given us, even when they are disguised in something that we might consider a difficulty or burden.

Wisdom for the 17-year-old Amanda

It should come as no surprise to many of you that I often scan through the radio stations while in my car. When you pair my eclectic taste in music with my impatience over commercials and mediocre songs, I often annoy people with the the amount of channel flipping I do. Tonight, while doing a little Christmas shopping, I stumbled across a country song. The premise of the song, in short, was about the types of things you would include in a letter to your 17-year-old self. I spent a good part of the evening thinking about this.

The woman I am now is quite a bit different than the girl I was then. Sure, my general character is still the same. I am still pretty traditional and corny. I still like a lot of the same things. I still am passionate about my faith and family and friends. I still get excited over holidays and fireworks and lightning bugs. I still make a lot of mistakes. But, I am different. I spent the last few hours thinking about the things in my life over the last 8 years that have changed me. Shaped me. Hurt me. Humbled me. Made me a better person.

So, what do I wish I could tell my 17-year-old self?  

1. Lighten up. Laugh at yourself. Life is not always meant to be so serious.
2. The world is not black and white. Learn to accept grey. Learn to enjoy grey. 
3. Some friendships are not worth the effort and drama they bring.
4. Be friends anyway. Relationships make you a better person. Even the hurtful ones. If you push everyone away, you'll end up lonely. Really lonely.
5. Don't worry, you are going to have some amazing friends. They make it worth it. Promise.
6. Being judgmental is narrow-minded. Listen more. You might learn something.
7. If you have doubts about someone from the beginning, don't date them. Trust me.
8. Mom and Dad know a lot more than you think they do.
9. Dont give up on your dreams. You'll regret it.
10. Don't be afraid to try something new. Even if you don't like it, at least you tried.
11. Don't speed-- you'll end up getting a lot of tickets. You only can cry your way out of about half.
12. You're a great procrastinator. It is your strength and you will still do great, but you won't get much sleep.
13. Stay away from credit cards.
14. Dark hair is not a good look on you.
15. You're vanilla. Embrace it. There's a reason why vanilla is the most popular flavor. It's good.
16. You hate hospitals. That doesn't change. In fact, it gets worse.
17. The only one responsible for your happiness (or unhappiness) is you. Adjust your attitude. Choose to be happy. The only thing you can change is yourself.
18. Time heals, but doesn't erase, wounds. Hurts can have long-lasting effects. Don't be hurtful or spiteful or so cynical.
19. While you like to argue, and can be quite good at it, you'll find that it's usually not worth it. Kick the habit, girl. Winning isn't everything.
20. Love God. Love people. Love is a verb. (see previous post)

Love is a verb.

Happy Wednesday!

Last week, as I was spending time with some of our children, I noticed one of them had written this on the white board:  

"Love is a verb." 

Knowing this child, I was aware that they own a t-shirt that carries this exact message, and I remember thinking, "I wonder if they understand what that means, and how powerful a message that is."  My instinct is that they understand the message even better than I do.

Over the last week, as I have tossed that moment around in my mind, I remember myself at 8 years old. That year, for Easter, I received a Bible and a bookmark with my name on it. At that age, I was thrilled to have things that included my name: a Boston tape (yes, I loved 80s music even then), a monogrammed bag, pencils, notepads, you name it. Thus, my new favorite bookmark read, "Amanda-- Latin: Worthy of Love" and then had a Psalm to accompany it. I remember often looking at that bookmark and naively thinking that it meant I was entitled to a fairy tale- the love of prince charming all wrapped up in sunshine and rainbows and me always having perfectly combed hair and fancy clothes. After all, my name literally meant that I deserved that, right?

As I grew and matured (and, perhaps, grew a little more cynical) in my teenage years, I sort of defined myself by the word "worthy." Who was worthy? Why? How do you become worthy? And in relation to love, does that mean that some aren't? If I was involved in these types of things, went to these types of events, made these types of grades, had these types of friends... then, would I be worthy?

Now, I choose to define myself by the word "love."

I know this to be true: love is no fairytale. It is hard. Really, really hard. Love is a verb. It conveys action. Love requires us to forgive. To be patient. To be humble. To be selfless. To trust. To hope. To persevere. Take a look at 1 Corinthians 13:4-7. These verses are so commonly used that I think we forget what they mean. Love requires us to accept people who are different than we are. Different races, different religions, different economic statuses, different political parties, different points of view, different ages and genders and sexual orientations. Love requires us to look someone in the eye that has hurt us... and ask for, and offer, forgiveness.  Love requires us to listen. Love means we dont judge.

As people who are followers of Christ, who seek relationship with him, hear these words: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul, and all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. ALL the Law and the prophets hang on these two commandments." (Matthew 22: 37-40)

Love is our greatest command. Our greatest call. Love God. Love people.

Love, my friends, is a verb.

A Girl For All Seasons

I have been thinking a lot about seasons this month-- and even more heavily this week. Summer. Fall. Back-to-school season. Hurricane season. Baseball season. Football season. Tourist season. Wedding season. Holiday season. It seems there are seasons for just about everything. Seasons of sun and smiles. Seasons of loss and pain. Seasons of entertainment and work. Seasons of destruction and chaos. Seasons of love and joy.

For those of you who have seen Grease 2, there is a scene where the Pink Ladies perform in a talent show dressed according to the the month and season for which they represent. In the middle of the song and dance, Michelle Pfeiffer ("Stehpanie Zanoni"), dressed as a Christmas tree in Winter, loses focus and stares off into space while those around her keep performing. The song and dance continues but she is frozen in time, trapped by a memory. The symbolism always strikes me; Stephanie is frozen in the season of Winter-- a time that is consistently symbolic of barrenness and cold. A season that typically represents struggle and hopelessness. A season that resonates with her in that moment.


Often, I find myself caught up in whatever season I currently am in. I jump with both feet into soaking up the sun of summer. I sport my Duke blue all throughout March madness. I decorate (profusely) for holidays and do all of the cliche activities associated with them. I buy school supplies in August, despite the fact that I am no longer a student. I pick flowers in Spring.

This year, as Fall approaches (my favorite season, I might add), I am aware of something that I have not often thought of before. Fall, in all it's beauty and cool weather and holiday splendor, is a time of change and even death. Leaves are dying. Cold is setting in. Fall is the precursor to cold and snow and ice.

Despite that, I yearn for Fall. Perhaps it is because I know that Winter does not last forever. Perhaps it is because I know that Spring will bring with it new life and color and joyful splendor. Perhaps it is because I have learned that we are not trapped in one season forever.

Like Stephanie, sometimes we lose our focus. Sometimes we get stuck in a season. Sometimes we forget what comes next. Sometimes all we can see is Fall and Winter, and we forget that Spring brings with it new life. I am reminded today that I was created to be "A Girl for All Seasons," even when I have lost my focus momentarily.

What in the world are you doing?

Friends,

Happy Wednesday! :)

"What in the world are you doing?"
This is a common question to escape my lips. As far as slang phrases go, this one is by far one of my favorites! It can mean many, many things depending on who is on the receiving end of it and I can use it in almost any state of emotion. For example, there are days when I come home and my dog has pulled out every single toy he owns and strewn them over the entirety of our apartment: "WHAT IN THE WORLD are you doing?" There are days when I walk into my co-workers, Lauren or Amy's, office and they are working in a "creative" fashion: (laughing) "What in the world ARE you doing?!" There are days when my computer freezes and I want to throw it out my window: "What in the world are you DOING?"

Today, however, I pose this question to you: "What. In the World. Are you. Doing?"

As we enter into June, the children in my church will be learning about the virtue of Responsibility and how that relates to God's call in our lives. We are responsible for Creation. We are responsible for service. We are responsible for loving one another. We are responsible for being good stewards of what God has given us. We are responsible for using the gifts we have to bring glory to God. We are responsible for caring for our neighbor. We are responsible for sharing the love and goodness and faithfulness and power of God with all the world. We have many responsibilities, friends.

As we move toward summer, we will continue this spiritual practice and the kiddos will be able to learn and experience the wonders of God's creation throughout July and August. Each week, we will study a day of Creation and will have field trips to the Planetarium, the Science Museum, Maymont Park, and the Zoo that correspond with our study. We will also learn about service and recycling from a local specialist. Our children will spend the next few months practicing the responsibility that God has entrusted us with-- a responsibility to Creation, to service, to one another.

With this in mind, I ask you again: "What. In the World. Are you. Doing?" How are you caring for the earth, for your neighbor, for the marginalized? How is your family learning about service and stewardship? What--in our world, in our country, in our community, in our congregations--are you and your family doing to bring glory to God? And...what are you NOT doing?

I pray that God reveals to each of you this week a new way that you can answer the call: "What in the world are you doing?"


Many, many blessings,
Amanda

Patience Reprised

Friends,

Happy Wednesday!

This is our last week studying the virtue of patience, and quite honestly, I am feeling glad about that. In my faith journey this month I have come to realize just how much I have to grow in patience and it is sometimes frustrating to admit. :)

Last week, I celebrated my 7th month here at Bon Air as the Director of Christian Education. In reality, that is not much time... barely more than half a year. I have learned and loved and listened in this community. I have spent the last seven months praying for our children, for our church, for God's work. Seven months of practicing the call I feel God has placed on me. Seven months of being in ministry and relationship with each of you. In many, many, many ways I have seen God work all around me... and in other ways I have struggled to be patient. My mind and heart are constantly filled with new ways for us to grow as a community and as a ministry. Every where I look I see opportunities for our kids to grow in their faith, in their service to others, in their love of Christ.

However, if I have learned anything in seven months, it is that patience is a spiritual discipline for a reason. By nature, I am a "doer" and I want things to happen. BUT, things don't work in my time, they work in God's time. This has been a hard lesson for me this month. In my spiritual life, in my professional life, in my personal life-- I have been impatient for God's direction and movement. 

Can any of you relate? Are there places in your life where you are impatient for God to move? Maybe you are a "doer" like me and you want to force God's timing along. Perhaps you just are tired of waiting and waiting and waiting.

Here's the good news I have for you today. Even in our impatience, God is faithful. When I look around me a second time, I see all of the very, very many blessings and fulfilled promises God has given me (and us!) in the last seven months. Like those Israelites from week 1, it is easy to be impatient as we wait on God; but we also must remember that even in (what seems like) a wilderness, our God is forever present.

Blessings,
Amanda