Life at the Riverbank: Discovering God in the Journey

A Work in Progress

2010-01-21T09:05:00.000-08:00

Watch this space for new reflections and a new direction...

Community at Sesame Street

2009-11-08T13:25:00.000-08:00

Following a significant transition, I have once again been readjusting and acclimating to our new home. This includes not just the actual house where we reside but also the communities into which we have entered. There are for us several layers to community, as we share life together. First, we are surrounded by a lovely community in Clay County/Hayesville where we live. Second, we are living out faith and ministry within the community Reid's Chapel United Methodist Church where I serve. Third, we are experiencing community through Young Harris College where my husband serves.

I couldn't help but think about my own life in community while the 40th anniversary celebrations were happening for Sesame Street last week. It brought to mind community, neighbors, and life together. How could it not, after all? This is a street filled with friendship, laughter, learning, conversation, and sharing. Then, my reflections about community at Sesame Street were confirmed when I saw Cookie Monster, Elmo, and Abby in a Today Show interview.

When asked by Matt Lauer what they have planned for the next 40 years at Sesame Street, Elmo responded: "We hope that we get to sing and dance and love each other as much as we have been loving each other for 40 years." My intention is not to moralize or to be sappy, but I think that Elmo has offered a helpful message about life together in community. Maybe thinking about it as simply as this will help those of us who strive and even struggle to live together because, with or without new transition, community life is not always easy.

So, how do we form, nurture, and sustain life together in community?

Singing...

Dancing...

Loving each other...

This is a pretty good start!!

Thousand of Miles (and Almost As Much Luggage)

2009-10-18T14:07:00.000-07:00

Thousands of miles traveled.

Five months have passed.

What can I say? It has been a quite a ride. We shared an adventure of a lifetime in England, and then it was time to return. We left London like this...

(And in the end, we only had to pay for one extra bag.)

Thankfully, our travels with a toddler were great from Gatwick. Needless to say, she is well-seasoned at the ripe age of three. She took in the sights at the airports and enjoyed the escapades. This was a very familiar and comfortable vantage point for her along the way...

(This "buggy" has been faithful through the journey.)

Having the premier window view for the 8 hour flight, she remained content in her seat with her books, DVDs, crayons, stickers, and plush friends the entire time except for several potty breaks. And there was a nice, long nap somewhere in there as well. This prepared us for our arrival in Philadelphia where we would meet the newest addition to the Spivey clan. There is no denying this cuteness...

(My nephew is five months old now but was only two weeks old in this photo.)

Following our visit with this sweet baby and his parents, we ventured back into North Carolina to prepare for our relocation to Hayesville. This included catching up on some of our favorites, including sweet tea, Mexican food, and Grandpa's convertible. Quite the combination, I know. This is the joyful evidence...

(Notice the sunglasses and the most appropriate queenly wave.)

After the convertible ride and lots of other fun, we literally headed for the hills. And what beautiful hills they are!!

(This is a view from the highest elevation nearest to our house.)

Home sweet home.

Friday Family Outings

2009-04-27T13:19:00.000-07:00

We are intentionally looking for "England experiences" in these final weeks of our living in Thatcham. Since Fridays are our designated day off, we use Fridays as a day for family time. Usually, our criteria are very simple.

1. Fun

2. Three year old friendly

3. With an England "flavour"

This is really not too much to ask, and in fact, we have been quite successful in our Friday family outings.

We ventured out several Fridays ago to an inside museum that replicates a Victorian English town. We were quite pleased with our choice and were looking forward to the experience. It met all of the criteria (so we thought...).

England "flavour" - check

Three year old friendly - check

Fun - not so much

Upon arrival, our resident 3 year old climbed into her stroller, and off we went. We purchased tickets (yes, we paid for this soon-to-be short-lived adventure), and we stepped back into time. Very pleased with ourselves we perused the exhibits, looked at the antique buses, cars, fire trucks, and wagons, and window shopped along the old town streets.

Then came the verdict, as stated by the discontent and convincing 3 year old:

"Let's go somewhere fun and play."

Yep, this pretty much sealed the deal for this Friday family outing.

In all fairness, the resident 3 year old wasn't simply being difficult. She was actually rather creeped out by the "people" standing in the shops and sitting on the vehicles. She was sort of confused by the large, dark roof that covered this "town." (At one point, she even wanted to make a quick getaway through the wide open loading zone doorway.) She had simply endured all that she could and knew good and well that this place for her did not equal fun.

Needless to say for our 3 year old, who by the way doesn't forget anything, this particular Friday family outing is without a doubt a faded memory. No turning back for one last glimpse of the chemist or tobacconist or blacksmith or the actual working pub. She was outta' there.

So, we resumed our Friday family outing at the park and playground by our house. Definitely a sure thing for FUN!

Fun - check

More fun - check

A Meditation

2009-04-27T12:40:00.000-07:00

We celebrated the Easter Offering Dedication Service last night for our Sunday evening worship. The Easter Offering is an annual mission emphasis for Women's Network of The Methodist Church. This order of service is crafted each year for churches to use, and the offering is taken for the Fund for World Mission. Included within this service is a beautifully and faithfully written meditation. I can take no credit, but I am compelled to share.

HE WILL WALK

He will walk
A little in front of us
Towards Jerusalem

He will not be scared
Though we are apprehensive

If we try to discourage him,
He will recognise the devil in our voice,
And he will tell us as much
In no uncertain terms

Then he will go on again,
In faith,
Towards Jerusalem.

He will walk
A little in front of us
Into controversy.

He will not be scared,
Though we are apprehensive.

He will argue with the intelligent,
Stop in their tracks the self-assured,
Touch the scabby,
Upset bank balances
By his outlandish behaviour in the sanctuary,
And weep in public.

Then he will go on again,
In faith,
Towards Jerusalem.

He will walk
A little in front of us
Into Gethsemane.

He will not be scared,
Though we are apprehensive.

He will sweat blood
And ask God if there is another way,
And when God says no,
He will take the traitor’s kiss,
The soldier’s spit
The bile and venom from the princes of religion.

Then he will go on again,
In faith,
Towards the cross.

He will walk
A little in front of us
Towards Calvary.

He will not be scared,
No,
He will not be scared.

He will feel the pain
Of wood and nails;
But more than this
He will feel the weight
of all the evil,
all the malice,
all the pettiness,
all the sin of the world
heaped upon his shoulders.
He will not throw off that weight
Though he could.

He will not give back evil for evil,
Return malice for malice,
Take revenge on the petty minded,
Or spew out hate
On all who have despised or rejected him.

He will not give back the sin of the world,
He will take it away…
Into death, into hell,
So that he can lead us into heaven.

Then he will go on again,
In faith,
Towards resurrection.

He will walk
A little behind us
Through the graveyard.

He will wait
Until we realize that he has died
And admit our complicity in his life’s ending.

Then he will come up behind us,
And say our name,
So that we can say his,
For ever.

(The Easter Offering service was prepared by Sandra Lewer, past President of Women’s Network, with the help of the Connexional Team’s Communication Office.)

A Village Procession

2009-04-14T03:27:00.000-07:00

I exited the front doors of St. Mary's Church with the cross firmly in tow. I followed the path through the church yard, entering Swan Street with my plain, black robe billowing in the misty breeze.

I traveled along the pavement (the sidewalk) in Kingsclere

past the hair salon

past the gallery

past the cafe

past the grocery store

past the butcher

past the chemist

past the pub

until I reached St. Peter and St. Paul Church.

I entered the front doors and leaned the cross at the front. This cross-bearing was profoundly strange and wonderful. This was my own early start to Good Friday.

Then, our collective worship began, and we ushered in the truth and the darkness of the cross. We prayed together. We sang together. We followed the cross together along the pavement on Swan Street

past the pub

past the chemist

past the butcher

past the grocery store

past the cafe

past the gallery

past the hair salon

until we reached St. Mary's Church yard.

"It is finished."

One by one the Good Friday crowd placed red carnations at the foot of the same cross that had quietly and prominently led our procession. The bed of red carnations organically (and unexpectedly) formed into the shape of a prickly crown of thorns beneath the cross. There was no turning back. We were living into the memory of our crucified Lord.

It was finished...

but it was not the end.

The red carnation crown of thorns formed by the hands of humanity was transformed into a never-ending ring of snowy white, resurrection lilies, bearing witness to our God of life and our risen Lord.

In the end, it wasn't just a Good Friday procession of life-draining finality. It was a procession aiming in the direction of life-giving grace and salvation for an Easter people. That is where our walk along Swan Street would ultimately take us--to the empty tomb, to the resurrection, to hope, to life!

Christ is risen!

Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!

A Toe-Tapping Palm Sunday

2009-04-08T12:22:00.000-07:00

It wasn't until this past Sunday that I realized I had not really planned or been involved in a more traditional observance of Palm Sunday in five years. You know...the donkey, the road, the Hosannas, the waving palms, and the little children. In fact, last year I missed out all together because my Palm Sunday involved high fever, aching body, and full blown influenza.

In recent years (other than the last), I have been privileged to share in the Cashiers UMC choir presentation on Palm Sunday. And what a faithful presentation they offer thanks to Tom Adams (director of music) and Bryan Heller (pianist) and many wonderful choir singers and musicians. (Although no longer present in Cashiers, I was still able to read online about the powerful message that was offered by the choir once again.)

With this said, my new location this year afforded me the opportunity to share in Palm Sunday with all of its traditional elements as well as some new experiences too. Thatcham Methodist Church joined with St. Barnabas Church (Anglican) for the morning. Many of us gathered half an hour early to prepare for our Palm Sunday processional between the two churches. I had never before processed outdoors on Palm Sunday. A cross led the way. We followed along the roads of Thatcham, bearing witness through action of our allegiance to Jesus the King.

Our ecumenical worship enhanced the celebratory and joyful spirit of Palm Sunday, and we altogether were blessed, especially with the parade of children. In they came, waving their paper towel roll/shredded newspaper palm branches, and they were proclaiming, "Hosanna! Jesus is coming! Hosanna! Jesus is coming!"

As a pastor, it was a joy to see and experience such an uplifting and contagious act of worship. As a mother, it was simply beautiful to watch my daughter with her palm branch in hand, proclaiming the announcement, "Hosanna! Jesus is coming," while grinning from ear to ear. And how wonderful that those very words, "Hosanna! Jesus is coming," have been echoing in our home and in our cars and in our lives ever since she marched alongside her Sunday school friends on Palm Sunday morning!

Thankfully, my Palm Sunday did not end there. I finished out the day with an evening service for the older adults and community friends at the local sheltered housing facility in Kingsclere. With service sheet in one hand and the paper towel roll/shredded newspaper palm branch in the other, I entered for another Palm Sunday celebration. We opened with our own "Hosannas!" We reflected upon Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem. And we sang lots and lots of hymns, which are chosen by this residential community for the services.

As meaningful as it was for me to be leading the Palm Sunday worship service that evening, the highlight came while we were singing our closing hymn, Onward, Christian Soldiers. If I must be truthful, this probably would not have been one of my song picks for Palm Sunday had I been doing the choosing, but there is no doubt that this hymn, its sound, and its rhythm strike a particular cord and resonate well with this faithful generation of Christians.

"Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before," we proclaimed in song. And then I noticed it: the rhythmic toe-tapping. Almost everyone had at least one foot moving to the marching beat. Although a moment shared only with myself in my own thoughts, it too was an uplifting and contagious Palm Sunday act of worship. We marched together, as if on the road! We marched together, as followers of Jesus the King! And you can imagine that I marched my way right out of Rose Hodson Court with thanksgiving for this wonderful, toe-tapping Palm Sunday!

Scenic Journey

2009-04-08T09:32:00.000-07:00

Once again, I have been away from this "riverbank" of reflection too long, allowing too many weeks to pass in rather a blur. Thanks to springtime I have regained an awareness and sensitivity to daily life that can so often be suppressed.

We have spent more time outside in March and April (so far) since they have brought dry and sunny instead wet and cloudy. We have taken advantage of the well-planned walking paths, the warmth, and the long days. And, oh, what we have seen along the way!

Lots and lots of daffodils!

Hippopotami at Marwell Zoo!

Pristine gardens at Hampton Court Palace!

Sunny afternoons at the pub!

And adorable little lambs!

Yes! Oh, what we have seen along the way! How could I not be sensitive and aware of this scenery, especially when accompanied by a very willing and curious 3 year old who LOVES to walk anywhere at anytime? It has been warm and exciting and bright and wonderful and engaging and freeing and experiential and fun! And I anticipate so much more beauty along this ongoing, scenic journey!

New Experience

2009-03-11T08:21:00.001-07:00

I am not quite sure how two weeks have already passed since Ash Wednesday. This means that we are two weeks into Lent...and two weeks closer to Easter! It has been a busy two weeks.

We hosted additional guests from the US, as they arrived on Ash Wednesday!

We celebrated the birthday of our very happy 3 year daughter!

And I spoke for the Women's World Day of Prayer gathering in the Thatcham community!

I happily accepted the invitation for this a couple of months ago. It was something that I had not experienced previously. I was not familiar with this event and had never participated in its annual day, and I am very pleased to have had the new experience!

The 2009 worship liturgy for the Women's World Day of Prayer was crafted by women of Papua New Guinea and was shared by people throughout the world. From Tonga at the start to the far stretches of Alaska at the close, people joined in the spirit of worship to connect the global body of Christ. We allowed Romans 12 to guide our thoughts through the theme of unity: "In Christ There Are Many Members Yet One Body." I was excited to participate!

As women, men, and children joined together on this evening, we benefited from the global nature of this Day by learning about our sisters and brothers in Papua New Guinea. We oriented ourselves to the location of this island. We viewed photos of its tropical and mountainous terrain. We were exposed to the practices particularly of women in daily life. We expanded our lives in faith amidst the far-reaching yet meaningful encounter with Christians on the other side of the globe.

And we did all of this by gathering and worshipping!! What a wonderful celebration!

In closing, I will share the prayers of thanksgiving from the worship service--only one example of the faithful expressions offered in the liturgy.

We thank you Lord for the unity and wholeness of the human body. We especially thank you for all our senses whereby we come to know the world and one another. Our hearts are full of gratitude for the gift of life.

We give thanks for the gifts that differ according to the grace given to us.

We thank you Lord for the gift of Jesus, the Christ, who lived among us, who suffered and died and who rose again that we would have life more abundantly. We are grateful for the empowering message of the Gospel that we are to love one another. May the unity that we have in Christ be experienced in every aspect of our lives, our families, our clans, our tribes and communities, our countries and the world.

We give thanks for a genuine Christlike love.

We thank you Lord for directing our lives. We are grateful for those who hold fast to what is good: those who advocate justice for the least, the oppressed and the marginalised in our society; those who speak truth to the powerful; those who share generously; those who are compassionate to all. By the power of your Spirit enable us to make necessary changes in our lives with hope, now and forever.

We give thanks for the gifts that differ according to the grace given to us.

We thank you Lord for those who lead with diligence, mindful of the good of all and not of their own special interests. We thank you for giving us opportunities to use our leadership qualities. We remember our leaders--the able and dedicated men and women in the government, in the private sector and in non-governmental organisations. Lord, we thank you also for changing the hearts of men to recognise and value the leadership of women in Papua New Guinea.

We give you thanks for a genuine Christlike love.

Amen!

And thank you to our faithful friends in Papua New Guinea!

Ash Wednesday

2009-02-25T01:09:00.000-08:00

I appreciate Ash Wednesday. Not only do I find the liturgical practices on this day very meaningful but I remember it because it was the day in 2006 when our lives were forever profoundly changed. My daughter was an Ash Wednesday baby. Although it is a different day each year and doesn't necessarily coincide with her birthday, I have yet to experience Ash Wednesday in the same way as before.

I think about how this holy day calls Christians to penitential practice and to a discipline of active searching. These practices and disciplines call us to something greater for God. They shape and re-create and transform us into Easter people--into people who seek life in the midst of a world that would like to try otherwise. There is certainly something amazing about being called to something greater for God, as we journey from Ash Wednesday into Easter. And in 2006, Timothy and I certainly claimed life and began new practices and disciplines.

I shared a reflection with the churches recently about what it might mean for our lives of faith, especially during Lent, if we avail ourselves of practices and disciplines and just plain ministry. So, as I give thanks for Ash Wednesday (and for my beautiful, little gift of life), I will share my reflections and hope that Lent will be a time of growth and life for those who are open to God's working among us.

I journeyed along the M4 carefully following the directions from the sat nav. I really do know the way to Gatwick Airport, but I still use the navigational crutch. I made all the correct moves along the way, and once I was about 4.5 miles and 10 minutes away from the airport, the traffic stopped. All three lanes were at a standstill—bumper to bumper to bumper. The waiting persisted to such an extent that people began to walk along the motorway, rolling their luggage behind them. No doubt there were flights that could not be missed.

After about 50 minutes of sitting without any advancing whatsoever, I had convinced myself that my parents would have been waiting so long that they were already slowly sipping a cup of coffee in my absence. I hated the idea of not being there when they crossed the international arrival threshold. But, there was nothing I could do until the driving resumed. And finally it did.

I moved safely but swiftly through the now moving auto traffic and parked in the first space I could find. I raced into the airport and moved in what seemed like slow motion through the people traffic, searching intently without success for two familiar faces. I was rather relieved at that point and began to regain my hope of greeting my parents just as I had in mind. I settled into a spot, and while slightly winded, I began to wait (again). It was then that I heard a public announcement over the speaker system.

“A service of Holy Communion will begin in the airport chapel at 10:30.”

Amidst the controlled breaths and the continued waiting, I thought to myself, “Did I just hear an announcement about Holy Communion? Yes, I most certainly did.” Then, I began to wonder. Who will be presiding at that service? And more interestingly, will anyone actually attend that service (either a traveler or an airport employee)? At that moment, I was most curious as to whether or not people would go to a worship service at the airport. I guess that they wouldn’t provide one if people didn’t go, but I still wondered. Where is the chapel? Would it be easy to locate? And ultimately, will anyone go to the trouble to find out?

Being that an airport is a place of rushing, running, ranting, and roaming (and I speak from experience at least with the former two), it seems that a person would really have to be intentional about attending a service of Holy Communion in between the comings and the goings—the departures and the arrivals—the hurrying and the waiting. It seems that a person would diligently have to make the worship service fit into their travel plans or into their workday. It seems that person would have to consider Holy Communion an important enough priority to slow down long enough to attend especially in a place that seems more like the antithesis of slow down.

In these brief couple of moments, my wondering not only helped to pass the time until I greeted those two familiar faces, but also it gave me rich food for further thought. I would go so far as to say that probably in our everyday lives we very well relate to the aforementioned rushing, running, ranting, and roaming; yet, more often than not, these things are probably not happening with us inside an airport. Maybe, then, the question of whether or not someone will attend a Holy Communion service in Gatwick Airport isn’t too far off from questions that arise in our own journeys of faith. Maybe our own experiences and the choices that we make lend themselves to the same demands for intentionality, diligence, and priority.

I think that in some way this provides food for thought that is a catalyst for our own self-reflection in the season of Lent. Are we intentional and diligent in our practices of faith? How do we choose what does or does not fit into our busy days? Do we make the things of our Christian journey priorities in the everyday? If not, what is hindering us, holding us back, or keeping us away? These are questions that may very well challenge us in the season of Lent to recognize our need for God and in turn cause us to reclaim the practices of faith that help us to find God at all in our lives. Through intentionality, diligence, and priority, we might just realize that we are actually moving closer to God and experiencing God’s love and grace in more profound ways.

What are you doing or not doing that works well? What are the aspects of everyday life that make involvement in faithful practices easier or more difficult? Are you able to identify intentionality, diligence, and priority amidst life with God? Such questions are at the heart of our calling as disciples and may very well help us to take care in the choices we make so that we are able to grow through faithful practice. Ultimately, we must avail ourselves of opportunities. So as we journey with Jesus along the way in Lent and prepare ourselves for Easter, take time to reflect upon your faith, to think about your choices, and to consider the practices that help you to keep God at the center of the everyday despite the rushing, running, ranting, and roaming. Peace be with you!

[If you happen to be curious, I have since learned the following on the Gatwick Airport website: “The South Terminal chapel is on the Gatwick Village level near Caffè Nero (before security), and is open to people of all faiths for private prayer and meditation. Christian services are held regularly on Sundays and weekdays by the Anglican, Roman Catholic and Free Church chaplains. Services usually last 25 minutes, and details of forthcoming services are posted on the noticeboard outside the chapel. There is also a chapel in the North Terminal, next to international arrivals (before security).”]

Feeling Caught

2009-02-20T04:48:00.000-08:00

It is a sunny and mild Friday in England, and I am enjoying a quiet couple of hours while the two year old is asleep. We have already been for a walk just down the street to Burdwood Surgery (the health clinic) for my daughter's latest thumb check. (This has been an ongoing part of our routine since her thumb came between the door and door frame of a cupboard at nursery last week, and for the record, it is definitely healing but rather slowly.) We have already ventured out to the petrol station to fill up the tank in my car. It has been a very low key day.

While I was finishing at the petrol station and trying to decide where we would go next, my daughter promptly fell asleep. This, of course, meant that I would accomplish nothing else in the immediate time. A nap is definitely priority number one, so here we are back at the house.

There is the soundly sleeping toddler and the mother who is putting the other stuff of the day on hold. The shopping will wait. The afternoon walk at the Roman wall will wait. So, I find myself with a bit of time, and I have decided to use it for this blog that has certainly been waiting in recent weeks. I realize that with blogging practice as well as with many other aspects of everyday life I often feel caught.

Caught between having the time and choosing to take the time.

Caught between accomplishing things that I need to do and things that I want to do.

Caught between writing these reflections and ticking off some things from the ongoing to-do list.

I rarely feel free of this pull from in between. The tricky thing about this potentially unsettling pull is that there is more than just the demands of the everyday. There are more impacting situations of people and relationship--of past and future. And it seems with these at the heart that the pull intensifies and life becomes even more complicated. I then find myself very conflicted in the midst of the pull with a deep desire for resolution and peace. So, I do very often find myself feeling caught.

Caught between the pull and the need for resolution.

Caught between wanting to fix things and really having no control over things at all.

Caught between life today and life tomorrow.

Lately, I have experienced the vast cavern between broken relationship. It is sad and painful. I without a doubt feel caught between divided sides, and there is absolutely nothing I am able to do to change this. With this truth on my mind and on my heart, it becomes all too obvious that the pull from in between intensifies and life is officially complicated. I can offer love and compassion but have no control over the ins and outs and ups and downs. And I can see in the immediate future that the complications will only perpetuate. I can't help but feel caught.

As I have been writing and reflecting on this truth in my life, I have been watching and listening to the sleeping toddler. Although these glimpses of her do not erase the reality of my feeling caught, they certainly do remind me that there is peace--a peace that waits even when we aren't always able to find it. I may rarely feel free of this pull from in between, but I am able to claim some peace along the way. And for this I am grateful.

Now I will set the reflections aside for awhile and prepare for the toddler to wake up. I may on some level feel caught between the things of life, but today there is a full-of-possibility afternoon that is before us. The sun is still shining. The plans are still waiting. I must be ready to claim a bit of this peace and enjoy it with her as freely as possible from the pull of the in between.

Okay, so I could not resist...(and now you

are able to see the evidence of the thumb).

Changing Course

2009-01-29T01:27:00.000-08:00

It is hard for me to think that almost six months have passed since we packed up our lives, said goodbye to North Carolina along with our family and friends, and arrived in England. Timothy, Laura-Clare, and I disembarked the plane in London and embarked on quite an adventure. It has certainly been one filled with excitement, adjustment, surprises, fun, learning, and joy! We have been living a dream and experiencing life and ministry in Thatcham and beyond and in The Methodist Church. We anticipated much in our coming here and have encountered even more, and for this I am truly grateful.

Although we have been immensely blessed, this time has not been without important personal reflection. While maneuvering this adventure, we have been faced with discernment and decisions. Along the way, I expressed to Timothy my own uncertainty about the duration of our time in England. I began to recognize that I couldn't really envision this family experience into the more distant future.

It was at this point that we found ourselves in the midst of particular discernment and decision-making, and it was in my being honest that I began to understand with more clarity. It became clear that our original plans would need to change, and so through prayerful consideration, Timothy and I met one another in a new, shared vision for our family's future.

We decided that we would claim this year on its own as our great England adventure and that we would make plans to return to North Carolina in the late spring. It was the right decision to make but a very difficult truth to tell. Honesty is not always an easy practice, but fortunately, we have been met with love. I have expressed my appreciation to the Circuit and the churches, as they have responded to the news of our departure, and the following is a portion of what I wrote for the most recent church newsletters.

"Please know that we did not come to this conclusion without much prayer and searching. We did not intend for our experiences here to turn in this direction, but in being honest with ourselves and with one another, we found it necessary to change our plans. We certainly do understand that our decision impacts the ministry life of the church and the Circuit for the future, but we continue to trust in our God who is faithful and hope that you will do the same.
I am humbled by your kindness and compassion in light of our situation, and I will appreciate your continued prayers, as I will hold you prayerfully close at heart as well. I thank you for the time that I have had in Kingsclere Methodist Church and Thatcham Methodist Church, and I look forward to sharing ministry with you for the time ahead. May God bless you in your faithful service."

As we have shared our story and disclosed our plans, we have truly been met with nothing but compassion and concern. We have been offered Christly kindness and respect. And we are thankful for the body of Christ that stretches far and wide, especially throughout this portion of south England. Our first-hand knowledge of this far-reaching love is a gift! I have received an outpouring of support from folks, but one email in particular has meant a lot to me and expresses so beautifully what I have felt so often amidst this experience. (It will remain anonymous.)

"It seems it's all change again, and just wanted you to know you are in our thoughts and prayers. Please let us know if there is anything we can do to help with your smooth return home. Amy, in your short time with us you have been a breath of fresh air and I hope you feel the experience has had some upside. This is a crowded island we live on and as [we] have travelled the world, we have become increasingly aware that the wider UK population rarely appreciates or supports its Christian heritage. We try to teach [our family] that they have a lot to learn by broadening their horizons and to try new experiences is better than not to try at all."

I deeply appreciate receiving this email, knowing the foundation of faith on which it rests. It exemplifies the very loving kindness and compassion that I have been offered since the moment I arrived. These generous words also say something particular to me about this journey and about what we are able to learn from others within another cultural context.

I have been profoundly enriched by living my faith in south England, and I can't help but believe and reiterate the words, "[T]o try new experiences is better than not to try at all." Yes, yes! And so I will make the most of our time in England before changing course and returning to North Carolina at the end of May, and I will be thankful for how it has helped to shape profoundly my life and faith!

Watching (Not So Intently), But Watching

2009-01-20T09:24:00.000-08:00

We shortened Laura-Clare's day at nursery school so that we wouldn't miss the Inauguration. I usually pick her up just a few minutes before 5 p.m., and being that we are five hours ahead of EST, I would have missed the event completely had I been in transit (especially since the main road that links my route is CLOSED - ugghh!).

On the way home, Laura-Clare and I discussed President-elect Obama. I explained that there would be a new US President (she was not really following), and so I offered her something that she understands the best. I told her about the Obama family. I explained that the new President and the First Lady are the daddy and mommy to two little girls. She responded, "Who?" I told her about their daughters, and she said, "Can they come to my house and play?" I made no promises but with a grin reveled in that image for a moment.

So, upon arrival at the house, we positioned ourselves in front of the television to watch the events unfold. And amidst her comings and goings, we showed Laura-Clare the two little Obama girls, and we witnessed the Inauguration. As documented below, she watched and made it through but not without several requests along the way for her "little girl shows." Nothing personal, Mr. President!!

President Barack Obama

Vice President Joe Biden

I Will Tell Her!

2009-01-20T05:16:00.000-08:00

I am watching the events of this Inauguration Day at a distance; yet, amazingly my being in England feels no farther away than if I were in North Carolina. Global communication and media access really do blur the miles. So, I will witness the live coverage today, as Barack Obama officially becomes the President of the United States.

I will share the occasion with my husband and my two year old. We will celebrate and always remember where we were when! And we will claim this memory for Laura-Clare as well and recount the events for her when she is older! After all, this is an occasion not to be missed, and this is a course of history for which we should be thankful! No doubt, I will tell her! Yet, there are some things about today that I would rather her not know.

I don't really want her to know that there are people who think their political opinions are more important than the historic milestone that is this Inauguration Day. I don't want her to know that people are more interested in criticizing on a day like today than respecting the monumental occasion that it is. I don't want her to know that people are so self-revolving that they think our election of the first African-American President is of little significance.

I read a troubling Facebook status this morning of a person who is more concerned about calculating numbers in order to prove a political point than about setting aside opinions in order to be respectful of people and of history in the making. I find myself rather concerned about this spirit of negativity and hopelessness. Okay, so I really don't take Facebook statuses that seriously; yet, I can't help but think even beyond the Facebook status about this person's voice of skepticism, criticism, and (I suspect) racism.

I am certainly not suggesting in my own reflection that judgment or division are appropriate even though I am concerned about the message being offered by this person. But, honestly, I don't want my daughter to know this voice.

Instead, I will tell her where she was when President Barack Obama stood before the world and committed his life to service, to hope, and to change! I will tell her what his election means for a country that has been plagued by racial injustice! I will tell her that no matter what our race, our background, our opinions, or even our Facebook status we do not divide ourselves from anyone!

This is a day that I will celebrate! And I will tell her!

Change!

2009-01-19T13:43:00.000-08:00

With permission, I am posting a piece written by my husband, Timothy Moore. I am grateful for his reflections and feel compelled to share them. Although it was crafted several months ago during the election season, it is timely for this MLK day and for this Barack Obama pre-inauguration day. Let us celebrate realized hope and hope that has yet to be realized!

Change!

Rosa sat so Martin could walk,
Martin walked so Obama could run,
Obama ran so our children can fly!

This viral text message began circulating, first, around the United States and, then, around the whole world the morning following Barack Obama’s election as the 44th president of the United States. The text message captures a sentiment, an emotion, a hope defining Obama’s election. His election has taken on mythic qualities. Images of long lines of young and old, rich and poor, black and white, the frequent voter and the first-time balloter were everywhere. Something different had taken place. Whether conservative or liberal, American or not, we all can recognize the significance of that vote. Obama’s election tapped into something deeply felt, patiently yearned for, thought lost yet waiting to be found.

On one day, it was as if an entire society awoke from a forty year slumber to be reminded that freedom is not just a dream to be hoped for but a life to be lived. Such a life does not happen by accident but through intentional, direct action. Sometimes that action is in the form of dramatic stands taken despite the threat of social discomfort, familial rejection, police dogs, and assassin’s bullets. Sometimes that action is a very visible, public spectacle.

Yet, with this election, we were reminded that sometimes that action is less dramatic, less public. It might seem to be less profound. It takes place with a door being knocked, a phone call made, a conversation had, an email sent. It takes place in the solitude of a voting booth. It begins with one pen marking a ballot, one finger on a touch screen, one hand on a lever.

And, in that solitary moment, one heart’s desire for something radically new is transferred from distant dream to present reality. A vote becomes the incarnation of hope springing from a single soul. Slowly one becomes two become four become a chorus of 66 million souls crying out that forty years has been long enough, rousing the slumbering giant of freedom, signaling for a new generation that faith truly is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not—yet—seen.

Obama’s election marks forty years since Martin Luther King, Jr.’s voice fell silent, reminding us that dreams of liberation don’t always come right away. But, for the church, we shouldn’t be surprised by this story. It is one we’ve heard before.

When Moses went to confront the Pharaoh to demand God’s people’s liberation, liberation did not come easily. It took plagues. It took persuasion. It took determination. It took time. Then, after a change of heart, Pharaoh consented and let God’s people go. Yet, after Moses secured the liberation of God’s people from the bonds of slavery in Egypt, he realized that while their bodies were free their souls were not ready. They might be walking towards the Promised Land but their hearts remained captive to the land of the past not equipped for the promised future. It would take time. So Israel marched.

They marched from forty years. Forty years of prayer. Forty years of preparation. Forty years of wandering. Forty years of waiting, waiting for their moment and the next generation to lead them into the Promised Land.

Along came Joshua. Joshua offered a new hope. The hope was not just the future hope of a liberation that might come one day but the promise of liberation delivered, today. Sand became salvation as wilderness became water—the waters of the Jordan River. By wading through the Jordan, Israel moved from the shadow of their past into the dawn of a new day, a present future. In those waters, Israel washed away the old, making way for the new.

Forty years had passed. Forty years used to make a people ready for liberation.

With this U.S. election, the church finds itself in an interesting position. For the first time in years people are publicly expressing transcendent exaltation. They are speaking about the real, tangible call for hope’s manifestation in identifiable ways. Average, non-churched people are speaking our language; they are speaking the church’s language. They are crying not just for the possibility of new hope but the material signs of it. That is where we come in.

If the church is anything, we are the purveyors of a story of hope, a hope in the liberation that comes through the life and death of Jesus Christ. This hope is not just some ethereal, dreamy, distant state. It is a real, physical, different-making story. It is the story of a God that is not satisfied with the status quo, a God who is not happy with how things have been, a God who demands a radical change in our politics, in our economies, in our families, in societies, in us. It is the story about liberation of the heart, soul, and body. It is the story of liberation demanding in real-time for the real world that “justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

Our story—the Christ story—is a story about a world-changing, people-liberating, hope-incarnating God. It is the story that just might be the very story for which the world has been waiting and needing to hear. It is the story we are all ready to hear.

The events of this November’s election in the U.S. are a concrete reminder that what people are interested in are not uncertain time frames of possible future promises but present arrivals at the shores of change. Such change will not happen by accident. Neither will the church’s poignant narrative of liberation be heard if it is not offered and intentionally woven together with cries from the waving fabric of humanity ready for change.

What appropriate, timely viral text message might the church have to offer in response to Obama’s election and the world’s hopeful cries? This one might do.

Moses spoke to the power of Pharaoh.
Martin spoke to the Powers that Be.
Joshua led from wandering to winning.
Barack leads from winning to wondering.
Wondering: What does the Promise expect of me?

Welcome, birthdays!

2009-01-14T11:05:00.000-08:00

We just returned from a wonderful, much-needed vacation to the Scottish Highlands. We spent 9 days just outside of Grantown-on-Spey and Aberlour right along the whisky trail and even reconnected with dear friends in our old stomping grounds of St. Andrews. We had been to the Highlands previously but only for short breaks at different destinations. So, an extended stay was a lovely change of pace. We were more than happy to spend the long, dark mornings by the fire and the long, dark evenings by the fire. And in between during the short, windy days, we explored beyond the fireplace.

In addition to the joy of a relaxing, family vacation, we had reason to celebrate. It was the Amy and Timothy birthday season. It was a very special experience to celebrate our respective birthdays in the Highlands of Scotland and to welcome 35 in such a memorable way!! Highlands or not--wonderful memories or not, I still can't help but stumble ever so slightly along the number 35 and wonder if I could really possibly be talking about myself.

I have always thought that only other people should be in their thirties, not me. Do you know what I mean? Have you ever felt this about your particular age? I guess it is all about a perception of age really, and for some reason, I find it rather difficult to perceive myself as a thirty-something year old. I can see my sister as a thirty-something year old. I can see my brothers-in-law as thirty-something year olds. But me? When did this happen...? Okay, so I know when it has happened because it happens every year at the same time, but somehow I still feel like a twenty-something that has fit a thirty-something worth of stuff into her life.

Yes, it happens every year at the same time on January 9th. My birthday roles around 15 days after Christmas while everyone is very comfortably in a post-Advent/Christmas/New Year fog. If not careful, this January 9th birthday of mine can be very sneaky. Generally, people are very kind to remember me in the midst of the post-seasonal madness, especially my hubby, who happens to share my birthday one day delayed. Being that Timothy celebrates his birthday on January 10th, he understands all too well what it means to welcome a new birthday year in the midst of seasonal haze.

At this point, I am not sure how either of us can really be 35. It's not that I think 35 is old, but it is in some strange way that percieved age of other people. Maybe it isn't so much the age as it is all of the adult things that go along with 35 for us. Maybe it is the vocational life in ordained ministry (i.e. full time jobs). Maybe it is the picking up and moving thousands of miles from home. Maybe it is the almost 13 years of marriage, 17 years of commitment. and 18 years of friendship. Maybe it is the home mortgage. Maybe it is the almost 3 year old in our household. Yes, maybe it is the almost 3 year old...

Now that I think about it, maybe it has less to do with the actual number and more to do with the circumstances and responsibilities of life that we claim at 35. And in the midst of it all, my hope is to hold firmly to my carefree, exciting twenty-something spirit that I remember so vividly while at the same time being a joyful, responsible adult, wife, and mother. Without a doubt, I have welcomed 35 with a grateful heart, and despite the strange perception that it brings, I happily share it with my wonderful and generous husband and give thanks for our journey together.

As I once again watched January 9th and 10th come and go with a beautiful view of the hills of Scotland before me, I realized that our soon-to-be 3 year old was more excited about our birthdays than we were. My perceptions didn't matter. She didn't care if it was 35 or 350. The age was irrelevant to her. Birthdays to her no matter what the year are just plain thrilling!! We drew from her energy and welcomed 35 with even more thankfulness!

And now she is waiting with excitment for her own special day! When that time comes, we will happily welcome yet another birthday and will be the responsible, 35 year old adults, who make the practices of birthday joy come to life for the newly 3 year old girl! Welcome, birthdays!

The Nativity

2008-12-18T07:27:00.000-08:00

We have enjoyed experiencing various nativity presentations throughout Advent. It has been such a joy to see these expressions of glad tidings and good news come to life in unique ways.

We have seen preschoolers raise the star of Bethlehem and guide the angels, the holy family, the shepherds, and the wise men. We have seen the best King Herod ever--high and lofty in his dark shades and black leather jacket. We have watched as a congregation itself was transformed into the nativity right before our very eyes. We have seen the angels of Heaven watching the people of our "topsy turvy" World on Terrestrial Television. And I have been touched in some way by each of these presentations in the storytelling.

These have been so much fun because Laura-Clare has not only enjoyed them while on the edge of her seat but has been able to experience the birth narrative "first hand." These experiences have given her new language to talk about the story of the baby Jesus, and so this story has come to life in our household in new ways for this Christmas season. In fact, she has been able to play with her Fisher Price Little People Nativity in a whole new way this year.

She can identify the characters in the story and engage with them, and in many ways, this nativity has become the focal point for our household instead of the Christmas tree. It draws out the best in nativity fun especially when the star is pressed and "Away in a Manger" begins to play. This is when the dancing starts. It is a very sweet and honest response for the Christ child. The little drummer boy played his drums. Laura-Clare dances.

She was also dancing the day that we witnessed the presentation of a Topsy Turvy Christmas. I was particularly struck by the "lead track" in this nativity play written by Lucy Moore and Neil Ogley. It shares a Christmas message that a two year old may not really understand, but there certainly can be dancing. Take a look at the lyrics.

"Topsy Turvy World"

It's a topsy turvy world we live in
We long for peace but we end up with war
It's a topsy turvy world we live in
We have enough and we still long for more
And we fight and we kill for a few miles of ground.
It's a topsy turvy world we live in
Find me a place where it all comes right way round.

It's a topsy turvy world we live in
Children go hungry and starve on the street
It's a topsy turvy world we live in
Others are dying from too much to eat
And there's plenty for all if we shared it around.
It's a topsy turvy world we live in
Find me a time when it all comes right way round.

It's a topsy turvy world we live in
We fly into space but so many don't know
In this topsy turvy world we live in
About him who made us to live, love and grow
And we've found out so much, but there's one we've not found.
It's a topsy turvy world we live in
Find me the one who will bring the right way round.

It's a topsy turvy world we live in
But God came at Christmas from heaven above
It's a topsy turvy world we live in
And live, died, and rose up to show us his love
And this love shows the way we can change things around.
It's a topsy turvy world we live in
But working with God we can turn it right way round.

Yes, fun and meaningful storytelling for all ages!

So, we may live in an upside down world, but God intends with our help to "turn it right way round." I am always looking for glimpses of things that are "right way round" in our world. I am always hoping that "we can change things around." I think that when the nativity story comes alive in our midst we might just see our "topsy turvy" world and lives transformed. Because of God's generosity through incarnation, maybe we will become more generous and selfless. Then, maybe there will be a little less topsy turvy at all.

I saw a little less topsy turvy and caught a glimpse of "right way round" the other day while Laura-Clare was arranging the scene on her brand new felt board nativity. Once the characters, animals, and props were situated, she carefully placed her collection of little Christmas cracker toys onto the empty manger (to our surprise without any prompting). She said that she wanted baby Jesus to have toys to play with once he was born.

And so we receive the Christ child once again this Christmas so that our "topsy turvy" world might find itself "right way round." May we be ready with generous and selfless hearts, with dancing, and with lots of toys.

Festive Indulgence

2008-12-14T01:57:00.000-08:00

I am always hopeful that my blog posts will be helpful offerings for readers but especially for relatives and friends, who are far from England. Of course, I am most interested in keeping people informed about some of Laura-Clare's experiences. And now that Advent is in full swing and Christmas is fast-approaching, I am even more inclined to chronicle some of our journey through the holiday season. So now for a little bit of festive storytelling!

Laura-Clare and I set off on a big adventure to London! Yep, just the two of us. Trains, taxis, stroller, and our good 'ole fashioned feet carried us through the day.

We ventured to the Thatcham train station despite the slippery, ice-covered paths, and we loaded onto the train that fortunately took us directly to London Paddington with no changes (and only two brief stops). Laura-Clare gazed out at fast-passing trains, watched for cows, looked at houses, and struggled to keep her feet off of the lady in front of her. Within about 50 minutes and only a couple of gentle kicks later, we arrived at Paddington Station.

We moved along hand-in-hand, as we followed the signs for taxis. I had made a deliberate decision not to juggle the tube because our route would have required two changes. So, we opted for the less cost effective means of travel (but no doubt more convenient and more comfortable). Through the taxi windows, we watched as the city passed by, and Laura-Clare was most excited to see people riding on horseback on the streets along the way. Once we crossed through Hyde Park, we arrived at our destination--Harrods. It was time for a bit of seasonal browsing (notice I didn't say shopping).

We ventured into the world of over-the-top consumerism and festive, holiday excess, but I must admit that several times along the way, even amidst the Juicy Couture, Godiva, Thomas the Train, and Wedgwood, I quietly hummed "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."

So, to offer my disclaimer, yes, I do understand that Harrods in Advent says nothing about Jesus. I do understand that shiny, shimmery green, white, and red aren't heralds of the good news. But, at the same time, I do also understand the joyful language of chocolate and much more in the life of a two year old! And the language of chocolate in the Food Hall of Harrods speaks volumes. This is where it began.

We entered the chocolate shop. We looked wide-eyed into the chocolate cases: milk, dark, white, bars, truffles, hollow, solid, assorted, mixed, decorated, cream-filled, nut-covered, bagged, boxed, on-a-stick, wrapped, organic, fair trade, sweet, bitter, mint, orange, and sugar-free. How could we resist?

We walked away with just enough--a dark chocolate Godiva bar for Daddy, a milk chocolate teddy bear (to be eaten by the two year old immediately), and a penguin-shaped milk chocolate character (to be nibbled on by the two year old throughout the entire day). Obviously, this was not a day full of healthy food boundaries. So, I just this once will blame my lack of parental discipline and positive influence on something else--the yummy temptations of Harrods!

After having completed our chocolate escapades, we continued through the maze of indulgences to feast our eyes on the other rooms filled with candy, ice cream, cheese, tea and coffee, cakes, exotic fruit and veg, and yes Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Then, we were off to the Harrods "Toy Kingdom" where Laura-Clare walked around rather aimlessly yet mesmerized. It was wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor toys in this kingdom of sorts. And really Laura-Clare didn't know which way to turn first.

After the toy extravaganza was said and done, we had to break for lunch. We certainly needed our sustanence for the journey. We found a very kid friendly restaurant in the bounds of Harrods where Laura-Clare enjoyed another indulgence of her very own--food and cartoons simultaneously!! She watched her fair share of Bugs Bunny before she loaded up with her chocolate penguin and fell asleep.

This was my chance to explore beyond the chocolate and the toys and the candy. I made my way straight for the china and crystal rooms. I always have a good laugh at myself when I think about how much I love china and crystal and all the bits and bobs that go with them when, after all, I am not the most proficient cook in the kitchen. Nonetheless, I browsed along every aisle of the breakables while the toddler slept. No curious hands. No running feet. No mommy heart palpitations. Just peace and quiet and fancy dinnerware (for a whole hour).

Then, in the post-dinnerware, post-nap part of the adventure, we realized that there was very little that we hadn't seen except the ice cream! So, we feasted on our final two scoop, strawberry and vanilla, indulgence, and this yummy treat would close out our day. We had eaten our fill. We had window shopped the day away. We had lived the festive Harrods adventure.

So, we exited London the same way we entered, but this time with memories of adventure and experiences of festive indulgence in tow.

Life Is Play

2008-12-09T07:02:00.001-08:00

I love to watch the way play imitates life.

Of course, I know that children (including myself) have "played school" throughout the course of history, but when I watch my two year old in action--when her play imitates life, it almost feels as though she is the very first one. It draws out a parental joy that is simply wonderful! Part of the joy is watching her express and explore, but the other part of the joy is that her life-imitating play brings out a playful side in me that is not always easy to find.

I realize that the game of pretending offers many expressions of the things of life. And in our household, there is a favorite at the moment. I would call it the game of order-taking. (Clearly, this says something about our daughter's experiences with restaurants...) The game generally involves a piece of paper or notepad and a crayon or pencil or maybe even the Super Scribbler, a two year old, and a willing participant. It goes something like this.

It begins with the order-taking: "What do want?"

The response: "I would like pancakes, please."

The order is written down.

Then again: "What else do you want?"

The response: "I would like some strawberries on the pancakes, please."

The order is written down.

Then again: "What else do you want?"

The response: "I would like some orange juice, please."

A brief pause: "No. You want milk."

The response: "Okay, I would like some milk, please."

The order is written down.

Then again: What else do you want?"

The response: "I would like some hashbrowns with ketchup, please."

The order is written down.

You must certainly understand the game by now. This is the joy of "tending," as our little one says. Frankly, it is just plain fun. And it is, of course, adorable because there is an actual order sheet brought forward in two year old handwriting (that really says nothing yet somehow says everything at the same time).

I think that in many ways this is play imitating life at its best. There is fun yet also a means by which we can engage with one another. There is laughter yet also a way to encourage a practice of cooperation. We all love to play the game of order-taking!

With this said, we have happily realized that the lines between order-taking play and life are often rather blurry. We knew this with certainty one day not too long ago when the doorbell rang. It went something like this.

Ding-dong.

Two year old order-taker, WITHOUT crayon or paper in hand, takes off running.

She screams: "It's a customer!!!!!!!"

(Cut to Mommy and Daddy stopped in their tracks by laughter.)

Yes, I love to watch the way play imitates life. But moreover, I love that life is play!!

A Few Days Together

2008-12-02T06:20:00.000-08:00

We squeezed in a few days of holiday in November, and strangely enough, it had nothing to do with Thanksgiving. We made arrangements to visit Wales (yes, despite the potential for cold rain) and to explore beyond Thatcham. We booked a room at a lovely B & B in a village called Llyswen just at the edge of the Black Mountains and the Brecon Beacon National Park. Needless to say, it was rather quiet in Llyswen. Just what we wanted!

Upon arrival, we had absolutely no daily plans. We had no itinerary in place. We had no detailed agenda. And really we had no specific expectations except that we would rest, play, and be together.

We piled into our cozy family-size room and loaded it down with what appeared to be enough stuff for three weeks not simply three days. (How else do you travel with a 2 year old?) Of course, this included all variations of weather gear for each of us--waterproof jackets, wellies, walking shoes, dry weather jackets, fleeces, hats, gloves, and scarves (these are the British Isles after all)--as well as a useful variety of toddler toys, activities, and snacks.

Somehow amidst the mounds of personal belongings we settled into the space and more importantly into the time, and it would be the start of a very relaxing and renewing (and even dry) three days.

We enjoyed the scenery!

We visited churches (of course)!

We played!

We indulged (yes...juice for LC)!

Our adventure into south Wales was fun and joy-filled. It was a wonderful occasion to have a few days together so that we could share experiences, simple yet somehow extraordinary, that will be remembered for years to come. We are very fortunate to have opportunities as a family to explore, play, and even indulge. And for this I am grateful!

Sunday Surprises

2008-11-07T12:51:00.000-08:00

I have been away from blogging for a month. October was a bit head-spinning really. Between regular Sunday morning services, Sunday evening services, and weekday evening meetings (especially amidst the Church Council season), Spivey and Moore were out a lot. Ultimately, this means less about the being out and more about the who is going to be in. There is a two year old to consider after all.

So far it has been our commitment that one of us is with Laura-Clare at night when the other is out. This means that we have been very careful about scheduling our evening meetings. (We have out of necessity welcomed iCal and MobileMe to our household and happily live with them!) There have only been a couple of Sunday evenings recently that have required both of us to lead separate worship services, and I am able to be home before little girl bedtime. Thankfully we have met a young lady, who has become Laura-Clare's newest friend. (She is following in good company with Laura-Clare's sitter (and playmate) for the first two years of her life! Thank you, Ashlan!)

For two Sunday evenings in a row, Catherine has come to "play" while we have been out. This has been great, especially since Laura-Clare is so happy to have a friend come to her house! Their time has been chocked full of fun! It is simply adorable that Catherine has been teaching Laura-Clare to give a thumbs up. What is even more adorable is that Laura-Clare, while unable actually to hold up her thumb, very confidently and proudly raises her pointer finger instead...!!

Outside of these Sunday evenings, typically, Laura-Clare alternates weeks with us on Sunday mornings. Because all churches are not accustomed to providing nurseries, we rely on part-service Sunday school or in-service creche. Fortunately, she is getting to know people and feeling more comfortable, but it still means that ultimately Mommy or Daddy will be the default for the vulnerable little two year old (even if Mommy and Daddy are the ones leading worship, preaching, and presiding over Holy Communion). Needless to say, there have been some priceless Sunday moments. I am compelled to share.

Laura-Clare arrived at church with me several Sundays ago, and she very happily joined the Sunday school group that meets during worship. I was well aware that she would enter the service with the other children at the time of Holy Communion, but I didn't expect her entrance to be so dramatic. Something had upset her just before the group entered, so needless to say, she caught the attention of everyone as she made her way towards me front and center behind the altar.

-fast forward-

Having completed the delicately balanced Communion liturgy, Laura-Clare and I walked forward hand-in-hand and positioned ourselves to offer the bread to the people, and I whispered for her to stand right beside me. She stood, listened, and watched. I began as always: "The body of Christ broken for you....The body of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ given for you...The body of Christ broken for you..."

In just a couple of moments, one of the church members received the bread and invited Laura-Clare to go and get a biscuit (a cookie!). Initially, she asked if I could go along and was very reluctant, but in the name of cookies, she reconsidered. I continued, "The body of Christ broken for you..."

-fast forward-

Following the morning services, our family reunited as always at The Manse, and we prepared lunch. Despite our best efforts, Laura-Clare wandered away from the table with a slice of cheese. Timothy followed her with gentle instruction and soon thereafter summoned me and said, "Tell Mommy what you said to me!" As she stood beside her Elmo chair and pinched off a small piece of cheese, she reached towards me and sweetly said, "The body broken for you."

-brief pause-

Our earlier struggle through the Communion liturgy was erased in an instant. The grace of God came alive through the playful practices of a two year old. And in some strange way, time stood still while Timothy and I reveled in the moment.

-brief pause-

I will resist the obvious urges. I will set the theologizing aside for now. I will save the "churchy" reflection for another day. And I will simply say there is most certainly a two year old to consider amidst our busy lives in ministry, and with the gift of Sunday surprises and so much more, it is amazing to share life with her!

A Letter to Friends

2008-10-01T01:50:00.000-07:00

The distance from friends and family is much more obvious. I guess this goes without saying, so I am trying to be more diligent about keeping in contact. I plan occasionally to send an informative email so that we can remain connected in some small way. I sent the following email just the other day and included these couple of photos as well. It offers a bit of a glimpse of our experiences in Thatcham and in our new church appointments. We look forward to sharing more about our journey!

Dear Friends,

I hope that you are very well! We are very sensitive these days to the added distance that is now between you and us, so we want to keep in contact as often as possible. There have been several emails recently that have prompted our writing, so we want to let you know about our first two months in England. We will welcome any updates from you in return!!

We are settling into our new home in Thatcham. It is a nice town and offers easy access to many places in south England. We live just a short 3 minute walk to the train station and an easy walk along footpaths to the town center. We live right across from a large park with a children's playground, so we can easily venture out for some running and climbing. We are right between Newbury and Reading, and we are about an hour train ride away from London. Thatcham is a commuter town for many people, so the trains in the morning and evening spill over with commuting passengers.

We are literally finding our way around, learning the roads, and even on some occasions getting lost (at least for me:-)). Thankfully, we have been given a TomTom (known as a Sat Nav in Britain, not a GPS) as a gift, so we are appreciating the navigational assistance. We actually found it much easier to acquire two cars and a Sat Nav than to get cell phones. Until we have been residents for at least a year, we are dependent upon the less convenient, high maintenance pay-as-you-go phones. (I mean no disrespect to any pay-as-you-go people out there.)

On a given work day, we take Laura-Clare to nursery (Monday - Thursday). She enjoys her time at Woodlands, and she is flourishing amidst the many offerings that they have even for a two and a half year old. She is managing, despite our initial concern, to be very agreeable with the requirements of wearing a hat and wearing wellies for outside play. On the other hand, she has everyday for three weeks rejected her lunch because she is extremely selective (i.e. picky and headstrong). Fortunately, she does eat her morning snack and afternoon tea. No worries. She is not going hungry. :-)

The going favorite toy for Laura-Clare right now (besides her ever-faithful Baby Madison, of course--thank you Angie and David!) is the excellent Play Doh Big Barrel that I found at the Toys-R-Us in Reading recently. It is chocked full of Play Doh and accessories, offering hours of fun for Laura-Clare to "squish and squash." She has also added to her favorites collection a new, little pram for Baby Madison. Laura-Clare loves to push the baby in the pram on our walks to the park.

We are juggling our new home life with our new ministry responsibilities, and we are appreciating the challenges. The Methodist Church has quite a different structure from The United Methodist Church, so we are learning much along the way. Although the two Churches share some similar terminology (District, Circuit, Superintendent), these function in different ways. We are having fun trading stories and making comparisons. This is certainly one very interesting part of being in ministry in a new culture.

There is a deep interest with the church in Britain to explore new ways of worshipping and simply being church. What we might call emergent worship in America is called fresh expressions in Britain. Fresh expressions are being explored quite a bit in seemingly unexpected places, and it offers exciting possibilities for new ideas in the local churches. Also, there are distinct and vital ecumenical relationships within communities.

We officially began our ministry work on September 1st and were welcomed with a worship service on our first Sunday. This was a lovely occasion for our two Circuits to come together. (Feel free to read my blog post about this welcome service.) Since then, we have now had three Sundays for preaching and leading worship after months of being in limbo. It has helped to give us much needed grounding. We are each and everyday trying to make the most of our time in this new place. In addition to the things of ordinary daily life, we are happy for the opportunities to explore. We are looking forward to a few days away to Wales in November for a break before Advent and Christmas.

Needless to say, we are overjoyed, curious, excited, and overwhelmed by the experiences thus far. We will appreciate keeping connections with you and do hope that you will keep in touch!

Love,

Amy (and Timothy and Laura-Clare)

A Day of Formal Welcome

2008-09-26T15:47:00.000-07:00

Early on I asked, "Would it be possible to experience this calling of ministry and life in the church somewhere besides North Carolina?" I had been in North Carolina for almost my entire life, of course, except for the two years that I spent in Scotland. I had a familiarity with Great Britain and, therefore, an interest in the "somewhere else" being Great Britain. So this question had immediate direction. I asked it and explored the possibilities.

I was well aware that there is vital ministry to be done in North Carolina and that my commitment is with The United Methodist Church in Western North Carolina. I understood that my yearning for new experience in ministry and life in the church would consequently remove two people from ministry in the WNCC; yet, I could not ignore the sense of excitement and curiosity for ministry that was stirred when thinking about serving within another Church in a new cultural context.

I navigated the application process and waited. I waited for months and lived in complete limbo. I received the invitation to go. I struggled with the reality. It meant that I would extend my lifelong, North Carolina roots and would expand my United Methodist ministry connections. It meant that I would have to move my family. Ultimately, it would bring to life the answer to my question.

Obviously, I have come to England. I have extended and expanded the things in my life that are most familiar. I have come to serve in The Methodist Church. If I were still in North Carolina, I would continue to call it the British Methodist Church. But clearly after 7 weeks, I am no longer in the Tar Heel state. And so none of the differentiation is necessary (or appropriate really)..."The Methodist Church" it is.

Here I am thousands of miles away from the Western NC Conference of The United Methodist Church that I know so well. Here I am in The Methodist Church. And somehow I am beginning to feel at home. Don't get me wrong. The surroundings are different. The church structures are definitely not the same. Yet, I believe that by grace my new place in life is being transformed, and I am being transformed in it.

I may not be Home, but I am feeling at home--for good reason. Yes, we have been welcomed graciously and hospitably. Yes, we have been met with kindness and generosity. Yes, we have been given a comfortable place to live. Yes, we are renewing connections and making new ones. But, really my feeling at home in The Methodist Church began when we experienced the Church's practice of a welcome service.

On every occasion that a minister arrives in a new appointment (no matter whether from within the UK or from abroad), a Circuit offers services of welcome. Timothy and I had been hearing about the plans for this worship service long before we arrived, but we had no specific expectations. We knew that it would be a joint welcome service being offered by both of our Circuits. We knew that it would include our carefully selected hymn choices, "Be Thou My Vision" and "Amazing Grace." That was really the extent of our knowledge.

Not only did we have little expectations and knowledge, but we would have never been able to predict what the occasion would become for us and the community of Methodists. We realized that this service was a unique opportunity for our Circuits to join together--for leaders in the Circuits to work together--for the people called Methodists in the Reading and Silchester Circuit and the Newbury and Hungerford Circuit to worship together. We came to understand that in this service of worship Circuit boundaries were being opened to the future and The Methodist Church in some small way was being made ready for the promises of tomorrow. Our welcome service was formative and memorable.

I must take you through the experience.

The welcome service was held in a neighboring Benedictine abbey called Douai Abbey just a few minutes outside of Thatcham. www.douaiabbey.org.uk Because of its size and its convenient location to both Circuits, this beautiful and unique worship space was used for this afternoon of formal welcome. Our Circuit Superintendents and the Senior Circuit Stewards had organized and planned the service as well as the reception that would follow. Our District Chair for the Southampton District would be the preacher, and the two Superintendents would be worship leaders.

My parents were still with us from North Carolina, so they were able to celebrate this occasion as well. I was grateful for their presence and for their being able to share this experience. So, we along with over 400 other people filled Douai Abbey to share in this afternoon of worship and fellowship.

The liturgy was especially crafted to offer formal welcome, and within the service itself, Timothy and I were each asked to make a response of commitment along with the gathered congregation. We each shared public words of promise. We each made brief introductions about our lives and our thoughts on ministry. Then, we were each welcomed by local clergy from our ministry areas, as they approached us and greeted us, and we saw for the first time just how vital ecumenism is in Great Britain.

I will never forget my sweet, little daughter in her flowing summer dress on this day of celebration. As we spoke and received welcome and sang hymns during the latter part of the service, my daughter was outstretched on the stairs below the altar with her crayons and paper. She was moving about, keeping watch on the congregation. She was dancing, as the organ pipes offered the timeless music of "Amazing Grace." And it was pure joy!!

The abbot of Douai Abbey even leaned in at one point to a person down the row from me and said, "Those steps were made for children." I would guess that those Abbey steps don't find children on them very often. But, on this day of formal welcome, I am grateful that they did. To some extent it was as if our little girl found her own moments for welcome. She opened herself to everything and everyone without reserve. And there is no doubt that before the close of the service we all found our place. We had been welcomed, initiated, introduced, and offered love in the midst of it all.

It was a day of formal welcome--a day that will always be remembered!

Celebrating the Spirit of Gratitude

2008-09-22T05:37:00.000-07:00

September and October mark the Harvest Festival season for British churches. Churches use the harvest theme to craft worship and to give reason for eating together. Mmmmmm! :-) We have begun our ministry service in England just in time for Harvest, and so I share some reflections that I have offered in light of the season.

I celebrate the spirit of gratitude that has persisted throughout God’s salvation history! I celebrate the practice of giving thanks that remains at the heart of Christian community! I celebrate the gift of humility that enables the people of God to set self aside and offer appreciation for the gifts of life! I celebrate specifically for two reasons.

First, it is time for harvest festivals when we seek to be intentional about acknowledging God’s goodness and provision in our lives. Second, I have personally been more aware and sensitive to the presence and prompting of God while in the midst of transition. We may be reminded of this spirit of gratitude during the celebrations of harvest or any impacting life change, but really the practice of thanksgiving should be ongoing rather than intermittent for our lives of faith.

We may know well the voice of the Psalmists in offering thanksgiving to God. It is certainly evident in Psalm 136: “O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures for ever. O give thanks to the God of gods, for his steadfast love endures for ever. O give thanks to the Lord of lords, for his steadfast love endures for ever; who alone does great wonders, for his steadfast love endures for ever; who by understanding made the heavens, for his steadfast love endures for ever…O give thanks to the God of heaven, for his steadfast love endures for ever.” (NRSV) This litany reminds us why we give thanks at all—God acts on our behalf and loves us always.

There is willingness by the Psalmist to pray and to share this spirit of gratitude in a way that bears witness to God and to a professing trust in God. And this willingness opens the door for all of God’s people to follow this example and claim the posture of humility and gratitude. Is your heart open to this longstanding spirit of gratitude? How might you express your thanksgiving for God and for life that abounds? Are you able to finds words that express your own litany of thanks for our God of love?

With this harvest season and with this new season of life into which I have come, I am thankful that God has called me into ministry with you in Thatcham! I am thankful that God set out a path for me to follow and has provided along the way! I am thankful that these provisions have come because of your willingness to respond and reach out to my family and me! I am thankful for your gracious hospitality! I am thankful that we are now traveling together, as we share ministry for the sake of the good news of Jesus Christ! This is my litany of thanksgiving for God, for you, and for the possibilities that await!

I most certainly am celebrating the spirit of gratitude, the practice of giving thanks, and the gift of humility that shapes the character of God’s people! And I pray that our practices and offerings of thanksgiving for this season will become the constant offerings of our lives!

Get to Know the New Minister

2008-09-22T05:29:00.000-07:00

The youth group at Thatcham Methodist Church sent me a list of questions so that I could introduce myself to them. I think that they are fun and insightful and worth sharing!!

What Is Your Favourite Meal?
My favourite meal will not involve meat, as I am a vegetarian, but it most likely will involve some sort of rice. I really enjoy a creamy, cheesy risotto because I don’t make it or get it very often!

Are you musical? Do you play any instruments?
I played piano and alto saxophone when I was much younger and, unfortunately, have not honed these skills for many years.

Do you know any parts of UK and do you have any favourite places?
I previously lived in St. Andrews for two years, so I am somewhat familiar with Scotland. I would definitely count St. Andrews and Edinburgh as favourites. I explored a fair bit of Scotland in the south, along the isles of Skye and Mull, and into the Highlands, but I hope to go to northern Scotland while I am living here again. I have seen some of the Lake District, London, the Cotswolds, and Wales, as I travelled along obvious American tourist routes, but I am looking forward to seeing much more. (If you have any suggestions of your own favourites, please offer them!)

What do you think of the English weather?
Admittedly, I would have hoped for a bit more sun in August when we arrived but have been very pleased with the sunshine that has come with September. With that said, I am very happy with the cooler temperatures (as it is very hot in the summer where I come from in North Carolina). I would count English weather as a prominent part of the experience of my living in England, so I will take it as it comes.

Do you like animals? Have you any pets?
For the past seven years, I have had two orange tabby cats—Cupar and Pumpkin George. They are now living in new homes in North Carolina.

Do you have any brothers and sisters? Do you come from a big family? How do you feel leaving them behind?
I come from a family of four with my parents and one sibling. My parents live in High Point, North Carolina, the town where I grew up. My sister is two and a half years older than me, and she lives with her husband in New York City. It was a very difficult decision that we would move so far away from family. But we felt strongly about the opportunity, and we trust that the trade-offs will be very exciting and worthwhile.

Are you sporty? Do you play and sports?
I am an active person, but I do not really play any organized sports. I enjoy walking, working out, and playing with my very active two and a half year old daughter.

What will you miss in America the most (apart from your family)?
Very simply…I will miss Mexican food and watching the television comedy show for which my sister is a writer (Saturday Night Live).

Beauty in the Rain

2008-09-07T06:01:00.000-07:00

Admittedly, we have felt a lot of rain and wind since we arrived in England. Yes, you are probably saying to yourself, "What else would they expect?" But, actually, there usually is a very nice summertime in Britain. Although, this year is an exception. (And the Brits have been apologizing for the dreary weather since the day we arrived. :-))

We had one completely sunny, blue sky, and very warm day last weekend, and needless to say we spent all day outside. Besides that there has really just been early autumn. I don't really mind the cool because we left the way too hot summer in NC, but there are times when a little more sunshine would be nice.

With that said, we enjoyed a beautiful benefit of the rain one evening last week. As you can see, we viewed the most vivid rainbow that we have ever seen. It stretched completely across the sky and showed a glimmer of light in the midst of rain, rain, and more rain. We will take what we can get along the way and will be grateful!!!

A Note from Thatcham

2008-09-07T05:30:00.000-07:00

The following note was offered to several relatives and friends and expresses a brief update about our life in England thus far:

Dear Friends,

Now that we must keep up from quite a distance, we are checking in and hoping that all is well! We want to offer a brief update about our experiences thus far, and we would love to hear back from you too!

We have now had four full weeks in England after our morning arrival on August 7th. We were kindly met at the airport by representatives from each of our church circuits, and they drove us directly to Newbury (about an hour southwest of London). The manse in Thatcham was being vacated and prepared when we first arrived, so we stayed in Newbury while we were getting over jetlag and enjoying some sightseeing.

My mother-in-law joined us during these initial two weeks while Newbury was our temporary "home base," and we enjoyed many day trips to visit and re-visit different areas of the south (Oxford, the New Forest, Stonehenge and Salisbury, south Wales, and London). After a week and a half we traveled north to Sheffield for our Induction Course for The Methodist Church. We spent three full days in this orientation, and we are grateful for the official introduction to The Methodist Church and its Circuit system. While we remained in Sheffield, my mother-in-law bravely ventured off on her own to London to await her morning flight back to NC. We returned to Newbury for one more night before we moved into the manse in Thatcham on Friday, August 22nd.

We were so pleased to have our daughter in her new home, and she has settled very well with her new room and her new bed. She will begin at her nursery next week and will most regularly attend four days a week. We are so pleased with it and feel very confident in the care and instruction that will be offered. We have been working diligently to unpack and organize in Thatcham, and thanks to my parents who arrived on August 26th we have made tremendous progress. The manse is a lovely home, and we are thankful to be so comfortable in it already.

Along with the help in the house, we have also been able to show my parents around as well. We have explored a lot locally and have ventured to Stonehenge with them and also to Eton and Windsor. We were able to access the private campus of Eton College (William and Harry's high school stomping grounds) with a dear friend (and temporary tour guide), who teaches theology at the college. We spent yesterday in London with my mom's oldest niece and her family (my cousins) for a family reunion of sorts.

We officially started our work with the churches and circuits on Monday, September 1st. This has been a week more or less to ease into the ministry duties and the new settings; although, my husband has already been a part of one funeral and has another one plus a wedding on the schedule for this month. We have been welcomed very graciously, as the two circuits hosted a dinner for us Friday night with the circuit leadership. Also, The Methodist Church has a formal practice of welcoming new ministers into a circuit, so there will be a joint welcome service for us this afternoon. (In addition to welcome services, they also formally do farewell services, both of which are excellent practices for churches in the itinerancy.)

This is a short version of our first four weeks in England. We will try to offer updates regularly. We are excited about the challenges that come with new life and new ministry, and we are hopeful in the possibilities that await! Please do keep in touch and let us know how you are these days!

Much love from us all!

Comfort and Convenience

2008-09-03T06:46:00.000-07:00

Within three weeks, we have bought two cars. We arrived with none and now are comfortably and conveniently sharing two just as we are accustomed.

The first, a Vauxhall Zafira, is large by British standards (although easily medium size in our eyes). It has already been an asset in our travels with a two year old and with visitors. And even this "larger" vehicle still gets 40 mpg (thank you Europe!).

The second automobile, a Rover 216 SLI, fits right into the little car landscape. It is economical and practical yet fun for zooming along the roundabouts. The cars have helped us in these early days to navigate our lives, especially as we find our way throughout our sections of the Methodist Circuits. Adding these cars to our household has brought to light the reality of just plain starting from scratch. And we have just what we need.

It is a rather strange but exciting feeling to start new--to know to some extent that life is not dependent on the stuff that you own. Don't get me wrong. I have left behind a collection of stuff that is meaningful to me (which has made a temporary home with parents in North Carolina) and that I even long for in certain moments. But, really I claim a sense of liberation in the 17 boxes and 5 suitcases that transported a small portion of my family's precious belongings to England.

We arrived mainly with clothes and shoes, some special wall-hangings, select children's books and toys (including a sweet, little, pink bike dismantled into a large suitcase), a few necessary electronics, reference books (only 4 boxes to be exact--that was hard!), and pertinent papers and documents. We each lived out of a suitcase for two weeks and, after almost four weeks, have only just unpacked the boxes. We have been diligently making some necessary purchases to make our house a home, but generally, we are living comfortably with the scaled-down version of our material world.

In the midst of these reflections, I can't help but remember the 2 carry-ons, 2 suitcases, and 3 boxes that carried us in 1999 into our two automobile-free years in St. Andrews, Scotland. We certainly are nowhere near that scaled-down this time around, but we are happy with another new beginning that has caused us once again on some level to reach at the heart of need and not the frivolity of want. I welcome this practice at the start of another new season of life and hope that it sustains itself along the way. Although, there is no doubt that I will happily enjoy the comfort and convenience of our two, "new-to-us" cars.

If I Hadn't Known It Was Sunday

2008-08-29T23:25:00.000-07:00

I must admit that last Sunday was a strange day. Really, if I hadn’t known it was Sunday, I wouldn’t have actually known it was Sunday. There were none of the usual signs, symbols, or rituals. There was no indication that it was a sabbath day for the purpose of particular Christian practice. Well, I guess it was a sabbath of sorts...

It was all set into motion by the fact that we finally moved into our manse in Thatcham on that Friday (August 22). We joined all of our boxes and suitcases, which had been waiting on us for two weeks, and we began to envision the house for ourselves. We realized very quickly that we would need to make our first pilgrimage to Ikea.

With no official obligations for the Sunday, we did what was most unusual for us. We made plans for this side journey and traveled the one hour and fifteen minutes to Bristol (much like the distance between Glenville and Asheville).

We caught our first glimpse of the blue and yellow box building, as we motored along the dual carriageway towards Bristol's town centre. It was well-positioned exactly as the map indicated, but we could see absolutely no way to access it. And then it faded into the distance. (For those of you from High Point or the Triad of North Carolina, it is rather like trying to get to Hanes Mall going east on I-40 in Winston-Salem. It can't been done easily.)

After a short tour of Bristol, we proceeded onto the carriageway headed in the opposite direction, and once again, we saw the bright yellow and blue in the horizon. This time an exit appeared, and so we proceeded into the car park. We happily found a parking space very near the entrance in the designated family parking area (thank you Ikea), and we unloaded, organized, and embarked upon the practices of this particular sabbath day.

Without hesitation, we followed the meticulous directions and fell into line with the thousands of other people on this sabbath journey (yes, thousands and thousands--at least half of south England it seemed). We carefully let the arrows guide us through the massive showroom--living room to bedroom to kitchen to children's space.

We deliberated, made our decisions, and moved with the masses to the self-service warehouse where we would retrieve our furniture-to-be. We navigated the trolleys filled with furniture and accessories, the stroller with the two year old, and ourselves to the end of the line. We followed the final few arrows. We avoided the last of the crowds. And we came to the other side of this sabbath day pilgrimage.

It was a very strange day away from the signs, symbols, and rituals of particular Christian practice. And somehow in the midst of thousands of people in this self-service world, we were really our own little island. We didn't engage or interact. We just shopped and shopped. I guess these are the rituals of an Ikea pilgrimage. There is no doubt that, if I hadn't known it was Sunday, I wouldn't have know it was Sunday.

At the Altar

2008-08-19T11:23:00.000-07:00

We arrived in Sheffield on Monday for the Methodist induction course, which offers an introduction to The Methodist Church for those clergy like ourselves who have other Church affiliations. This is the first of our official duties since our arrival in England almost two weeks ago.

We are in good company with others from Mozambique, the United States (Oregon and Maryland), England, Gambia, and South Africa. We have already been enriched by this global fellowship. In fact, our daughter has become fast friends with the other children from Gambia and Mozambique. She commented very sweetly this afternoon that she wanted to go and play with her "sister." (Her little girl heart offers wisdom that seems far from little.)

As we all arrived yesterday (of course after sharing a cup of tea), we gathered together and centered our hearts and lives. It was a welcome moment when we met one another for the first time at the altar.

We encircled the holy space and, despite the differences, instantly found common ground. And it was on this common ground of Christ where I was given new perspective in the midst of this new journey. I experienced several things in and through this worship.

First, I realized that I have very effectively disengaged from community and practices that shape and sustain my life. On one hand, this disengagement is rather important because my transition out of my appointment necessitated that I find pastoral distance from the church that I called home. On the other hand, this disengagement propelled me into too distant of a place where I was closed off to the purpose of my life in faith and even to God. I was in need of a new openness and engagement with my faith.

It was yesterday at the altar where the common ground of Christ gave me renewed faith.

Second, I envisioned more clearly than ever before why I have come with my family to England. Yes, I have come to experience new culture. Yes, I have come to seek adventure. Yes, I have come to reconnect with friends. But really, I have come to live out active ministry. I have come by way of God's prompting to offer my gifts in a Church that is unique to me. I have come because I believe that God will use me and challenge me in new ways to share the good news.

It was yesterday at the altar where the common ground of Christ gave me renewed vision.

Third, I recognized that I have been functioning in a mode of survivalism simply to make it through. And although this has been somewhat necessary, such survivalism depletes energy and spirit. I have allowed myself to be depleted by closing myself off for the sake of making it through. But now, I have caught a fresh glimpse of my deep desire to do more than just survive. I want to seek life-giving practices that fill me instead of deplete me.

It was yesterday at the altar where the common ground of Christ gave me renewed life.

Renewed faith.

Renewed vision.

Renewed life.

I was offered these gifts at the altar yesterday, and now I am reminded that they will carry me forward.

Holiday Travels

2008-08-15T13:24:00.001-07:00

It still remains very difficult to imagine, but we have actually moved to England. To some degree the reality of it has been softened because we have deliberately used this first week for holiday travels. Work, schedule, and routine will come soon enough...

Our gracious hosts in Newbury have offered us amazing hospitality, as we wait to move into the manse in Thatcham. And this gift of space and time has provided us the opportunity to explore. We have enjoyed the market town of Newbury as our first "home base." It is well-situated in south England, so we have experienced quite a bit in these early days.

We traveled to Oxford for an afternoon and re-visited Christ Church Cathedral. We drove into the New Forest as far as Lymington (near to the Isle of Wight). We spent a day in south Wales, visiting the lovely town of Chepstow. We explored Chepstow Castle and went into the Welsh countryside for a visit to Tinturn Abbey. We ventured to London for a morning of play at the Princess Diana Memorial Playground in Kensington Gardens.

Next we will re-visit Stonehenge and find our way through Salisbury before we are off for a three day Methodist Church Induction Course near Sheffield. So, we are easing our way into life and ministry in England by enjoying some holiday travels.

First Day Fog...

2008-08-13T13:35:00.000-07:00

The first day fog extended well beyond the first day...

Following six days in England, I finally feel as though the fog has lifted. The initial few days brought a delicate balance of new adventures and new challenges, and we have been both excited and exhausted.

We shared the excitement of searching, choosing, and acquiring an automobile, and we may now add Vauxhall to our list of personal vehicles. The Vauxhall (with four happy passengers) has already found its way to the New Forest and to south Wales! We have enjoyed most of all the joyful exploration that comes with a toddler and ancient ruins! And this has opened the door for the promise of many adventures to come!

We endured the exhaustion from toddler jet lag, and now we can say that we have jumped the dreaded hurdle (hence the challenges!). We faced a few days of early morning bedtimes and sleep deprivation, feeling the temporary strain on the heart and the mind. But, thank goodness we have begun to claim great victory in a 9:15 p.m. bedtime. This certainly helps the day to day adventures! (More about these in coming posts.)

We have come a long way in six days--beyond the fog and the jet lag. And we have willingly opened our lives up to further adventures and probably further challenges too!

We Have Finally Arrived...!

2008-08-07T09:44:00.000-07:00

We have finally arrived...! Following our transatlantic flight (thankfully with a very agreeable two year old who slept two-thirds of the way), we are now in Newbury, England and have been welcomed very graciously!!

We have learned first hand about the preparations that have been and are being made for us in England, and we are grateful! Once we have moved beyond this first day fog, we will be able to see the manse that will be our home and will begin to explore the immediate and surrounding areas.

We are happy for the adventure!

We are grateful for the experiences that await!

We have finally arrived...!

The Day Before Sunday

2008-07-05T10:21:00.000-07:00

It's Saturday on a holiday weekend, and I am carefree and work free at the High Point homestead. The day before Sunday is often not very carefree or work free. Don't get me wrong. The joyful rhythm of my life in church ministry is exactly that, my life. But, I do appreciate this unusual break.

I am not thinking about a sermon. I am not thinking about the Sunday routine. I am not thinking about the hurried Sunday juggling act. I am officially in between jobs. This explains the leisurely Saturday...

I completed my service at Cashiers UMC. I packed and cleared out my office. I preached my final sermon and said my goodbyes. I exited following five final days on a youth mission trip (the best one yet!). Now I am experiencing summer days that sort of reflect those of younger years--less responsibility, less structure.

Yet of course, I am making necessary arrangements for our August departure to England; although, doing so with an out-of-the-ordinary amount of time. Fortunately, we now have three passports with three valid entry Visas. (This is a relief!) We are sorting, packing, selling, and moving the things of our household. We are car-shopping and nursery school-shopping at a distance. We are learning about Thatcham, our soon-to-be home, and the surrounding area, and we are getting excited.

All the while, I am reveling in the summer days! And I am happy that it is the day before Sunday!!

Thirty-eight Years Too Long

2008-06-18T08:51:00.001-07:00

On my next to last Sunday at Cashiers UMC, I was more than just relieved that it wasn't time yet for my final sermon. I was grateful to hear a sermon by someone else, Dr. Mickey Efird. I didn't have the opportunity to be in a class taught by Dr. Efird while I was a student at Duke Divinity School, so it was a joy to receive his morning message. He lifted up the story of the man at the pool in the Gospel of John, and it resonated very clearly with me.

Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Bethzatha... One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, "Do you want to be made well?" (John 5:2, 5-6 NRSV)

Dr. Efird offered a much more interesting translation of the phrase, "Do you want to be made well?" He suggested that a more faithful reading of the Greek would be, "Are you willing to receive healing?" The nuance of this alternate reading is both eye-opening and challenging.

The former phrase from the NRSV requires a simple "yes" or "no" or maybe even duh!...of course!...yes. The latter phrase to some extent requires more than a simple "yes" or "no." It encourages and maybe even demands introspection, honest self-reflection, and heartfelt desire for change, especially in light of the man's lengthy stay at the pool.

When asked about his willingness, a simple "yes" or "no" would not suffice for the man at the pool, considering he had positioned himself in the same place for THIRTY-EIGHT YEARS! There would definitely be more required in his response. Something had kept this man by the pool for all these years. After all, as Dr. Efird said, "For some reason this 'ole boy didn't even try to role himself into the water." In turn, Dr. Efird allowed for some speculation within this story, and so he offered four barriers that might have caused thirty-eight years worth of difficulty for this man.

First, he might find himself to be a barrier. Sometimes facing self and being honest is most difficult. Second, he might find the world to be a barrier. It may just be easier to hide and ignore rather than to confront the struggles, sadness, and overwhelming needs in the world. Third, he might find other people to be a barrier. Interacting with people requires vulnerability, and amidst conflict and pain it may not seem worth it. Fourth, he might find a fear of failure to be a barrier. There might just be too much cost in taking a risk.

And now, Jesus is standing before the well-positioned man at the pool and is looking him in the eyes. "Are you willing to be healed?" He must overcome the thirty-eight years. He must overcome the barriers. He must set aside the excuses. And he must trust (maybe for the first time in his life).

Then, the man hears the commanding words of Jesus: "Stand up, take your mat and walk." In an instant, the well-positioned man found himself on the other side of barriers and excuses. He allowed Jesus to transform, to open his life up, and to draw him away from the side of the pool. I can imagine that he not only became a man that could walk, but he became a man who would see the next thirty-eight years very differently.

Are you willing to receive healing? Are you willing to trust? Are you willing to be made new? Are you willing to receive grace? Jesus can liberate us from the barriers and excuses that keep us too well-positioned. Jesus can transform us into people who see the gift of a new journey.

I am willing.

I don't ever want to be so well-positioned that I am unwilling to move. I don't want to be the same person that I was yesterday. I don't ever want to be able to say that I waited thirty-eight years too long.

Conference Conversations

2008-06-08T07:28:00.000-07:00

I made my way through the congested roads with my immediate destination at heart and in sight--Lake Junaluska, of course. I creatively found a parking space, as to be in close walking distance--"create-a-space," of course. I maneuvered amidst the masses--United Methodist masses, of course.

Specifically, I was amidst United Methodists from all over the left half of North Carolina for our annual conference meeting, which happens at the same time each year. We descend upon beautiful western NC at Lake Junaluska, and we meet. Of course, we meet to share faith-filled connections and for official Conference matters, but really we meet for conversation and catching up. We see long-time friends. We talk. We become acquainted with new colleagues. We talk. And then, we talk some more.

On Wednesday night at the clergy session, it was revealed to those present that my husband and I would be appointed at churches in England. Those gathered voted and made it official. And the chattering began along with the questions. Where are you going? What will you be doing? etc. etc. etc. We joyfully shared our story (the short version), again and again.

"We will be living in south England in Berkshire County, an area one hour southwest of London. We will be serving separate appointments and will be in two adjacent Circuits. We will be living in a town called Thatcham, which is not too far from the well-known tourist destination of Windsor. We have had an interest in returning to the UK for another experience, after having lived in Scotland two years previously, and so we applied to serve directly through The Methodist Church in Britain. We complete our current appointments in June, depart for England in August, and begin our ministry appointments on September 1st. We are thrilled about the opportunity, and we eagerly anticipate our new experiences!"

(Definitely, the short version.)

The clergy members voted and the Bishop set the 2008 appointments at this session of Annual Conference, and my husband and I continue to claim our story--long or short. In our telling, there is joy...! In our sharing, there is excitement...! In our speaking the words, there is reality...! Yes, reality... And after being with the masses of United Methodists, things are now really sinking in.

I think about all that is familiar. There are long-time friends and colleagues on the North Carolina side of this journey, sending us forth with blessings and encouragement. They are listening and sharing our joy. They are thinking about the possibilities of visiting. They are pleased for our willingness to set out on this adventure.

I think about all that is yet to be known. There are new friends and colleagues on the England side of this journey, offering words of introduction and kindness. They are welcoming us even before we arrive. They are planning for and awaiting our arrival. They are gearing up to share in our adventure.

With England in mind, I do understand the reality of such a move. On the one hand, I am sensitively aware that there is much of the familiar that will be at a distance. On the other hand, I am equally as certain that there is much of the great unknown to be experienced. So at this point, I must be content and find a balance between the two. Thanks to the chattering, the talking, and the heartfelt conversations amidst the United Methodist masses, I have become more comfortable with the reality of life transformed and have drawn closer to the goodness of adventure.

Journey Stones

2008-05-29T09:56:00.000-07:00

"So these stones shall be to the Israelites a memorial forever." (Joshua 4:7c)

As I approached the crest of Mt. Battie in Camden Hills State Park off the coast of Maine (after a moderate climb), I stopped to observe and to photograph the stacked stones.

I realize that such monuments are often memorials for persons who have met untimely death while mountain climbing and yet these simple stacks are probably just symbols. But, I also realize that stacked stones are a way for the people of God to remember the faithful activity of God in their lives. And so I stopped to remember...

Joshua led the people of God across the Jordon river, and they stopped. They gathered stones and stacked them as a memorial to God. In response to their faithful God, it was important that they never forget.

I stood still in my tracks by the stacked stones and remembered. As I gazed out at the boat-speckled harbor in the distance, I remembered. My eyes reached for the islands in the horizon, and I remembered. With the dramatic beauty of creation before me and the joy of family vacation all around, I couldn't help but remember the faithful activity of God.

At the close of wonderful holiday week in Maine, I am grateful to have had time to relax, time for new experiences, and time to reconnect with my husband, daughter, parents, sister, and brother-in-law. Most of all, I am thankful to have been able to remember--to remember that life is filled with gifts. And these gifts bring undeniable joy!

I not only stopped to observe the stacked stones at the top of Mt. Battie, but my husband and I formed a new stack. We claimed the practice of remembering not only in our thoughts but in our gestures. And maybe our journey stones will help someone else remember too!

The Cross at the Center

2008-05-27T07:44:00.000-07:00

It is simply a few weeks now until I complete my ministry service at Cashiers UMC. I am teetering between North Carolina and England, and my heart is caught in the middle. I shared some final words with the congregation in our June newsletter, which I have included below.

My eyes were drawn to its rainbow of colors—to its mesmerizing pattern. I actually saw the small shapes instead of only the large image. With the rays of the morning sun, I felt a warmth from the streams of glowing light. The details caught my attention, as if for the very first time. The sanctuary cross definitely finds a prominent place among us, and hopefully we do occasionally see it with a new perspective. I most certainly did.

While hearing the sounds of worship, I noticed. I caught a new glimpse. I received that image of the stained glass cross and all of its truth with new perspective. Although I have seen it numerous times before, it really was as if I was seeing it for the first time. I reflected on those small shapes, thinking about their purpose in forming the larger shape of the cross. I reflected on their different directions. I reflected on their distinct colors. God invited me through this fresh encounter with the cross to consider the life and shape of the body of Christ.

Then, I heard that little voice of Avery Morgan. She was before us, awaiting the waters of baptism. She was looking at all of us, and she was truly thinking her baby thoughts out loud. We all were watching and listening, as the water trickled down her head and her expressions traveled throughout the sanctuary. As she was carried towards the aisle to receive her special welcome into the body of Christ, her eyes were drawn to that brightly glowing cross, and in an instant she was silent. She noticed and caught a glimpse.

In this moment, I knew with even more certainty that this cross tells us something of the life and shape of the body of Christ. It tells us that even a little baby is welcome. It tells us that we are able to find our place differences and all. It tells us that our lives of faith are joined one by one by one. It tells us that there is more than enough room for each of us and for others.

As I prepare for my departure this month, I am grateful that the cross of Christ joined me with you and you with me. I am grateful that I found my place in the part of the body of Christ that is Cashiers UMC. By your faithful witness and practice, you have given me more than enough reason to trust that the body of Christ offers hospitality and kindness. This is immensely encouraging, as I finalize my plans to move to England and to find my new place in the body of Christ. I hold this truth of the cross close at heart and find comfort in the midst of transition.

It has been a joyous four years, and I sincerely thank you for sharing faith, ministry, and friendship. I deeply appreciate the time that I have had in ministry with you. I will hold dear the memories and will cherish our life together. I will depart knowing that I have formatively experienced the love of Jesus Christ in Cashiers UMC. And this formation will be a blessing, as I carry out pastoral ministry in England in Thatcham Methodist Church and Kingsclere Methodist Church.

I will be at Cashiers UMC until Sunday, June 22nd, and then I will close out my time in ministry that week with the youth on the summer mission trip. We will leave for England on August 6th and will begin our new ministry appointments on September 1st.

With the brightly glowing cross in the forefront, I will trust. I will give thanks. I will be sad. I will be excited. I will look back. I will look ahead. I will love. I hope that I will forever see the rainbow of colors, the mesmerizing pattern, and those unique shapes. I hope that the image of the cross will throughout my journey of faith bring me into moments of humbling silence. I hope that the streams of light will always offer comforting warmth. I hope that my memory of this cross will remind me over and over that there is more than enough room in the body of Christ. May we continue to catch a glimpse of this brightly glowing cross and know that it binds our lives together forever in the name of Jesus Christ.

Thankfully, I have a place in the body of Christ right now in North Carolina, and with trust I look forward to my place in the body of Christ in England.

One Hand and Three Fingers

2008-05-12T21:06:00.000-07:00

I am now able to count on one hand the number of times that I will preach at Cashiers UMC before I complete my service on June 24th—three times to be exact. It seems strange not only because it signifies the ending of a 4-year tenure in Cashiers but because I have been preaching unusually often lately.

My colleague in ministry has been away on a 6-week sabbatical (this partly explains my delay in blog-posting), so I have been solely responsible for the preaching and worship leadership amongst other things. It has been a busy time but a gratifying time. I have been sprinting from sermon to sermon; yet, I have now slowed to a single digit jog.

I am presently planning for the three—two Wednesdays and one Sunday—at Cashiers UMC. Yet, I am also to some degree planning for the quarterly preaching plan in the Newbury & Hungerford Circuit. I have begun to think about this schedule because of recent correspondence with the Circuit Superintendent. As strange as it may seem from this end of the Atlantic, obviously, he will be including me in the preaching rotation.

On September 1st, the sermon count will start all over again. Until then, I will keep my eyes fixed firmly on one hand and three fingers.

Practicing Hospitality

2008-04-28T10:29:00.000-07:00

For many, the far-flung village of Glenville is a holiday destination.

Nestled in the Appalachian mountains Glenville is home to the highest (3492 feet) large body of water in the Eastern US. It has unique history. The climate is near perfect. The mountains are peaceful and beautiful. The skies are bluer than blue. The lake offers limitless outdoor fun. How could it not be inviting to people!

For my family, Glenville is simply home.

Yet, it is great when holiday destination and home intertwine. It provides unique opportunity for hospitality. And this practice of hospitality is important for my family of three. It is at the core of our lives together--our lives in ministry--our lives of faith.

I understand hospitality to mean having a welcoming spirit and being open to others. If we are hospitable, we are willing to set ourselves aside for someone else. It often demands generosity, selflessness, and maybe even sacrifice.

I intentionally make every effort to claim this spirit of hospitality not just because it is a nice thing to do. I seek to be hospitable because I identify myself through God's narrative, a narrative of openness, generosity, selflessness, and yes sacrifice.

Admittedly, these characteristics of hospitality don't just happen. We may be given through God's grace the mind and eyes to know, but it really takes practice to be open, generous, and selfless. Ultimately, when this grace and practice find rhythm together, setting oneself aside for another becomes a privilege and a gift.

My family experiences this giftedness when we are able to offer hospitality, especially in our Glenville home. We will joyfully host several sets of visitors in Glenville in the coming weeks, and so we will offer hospitality a little bit more in this mountain destination. We certainly want to stay in good practice. We want to hone our skills. We want to ready ourselves for the next destination spot that will become our home. And I am so excited!!

I am excited for my life to bear witness to the hospitable character of God, but I am also excited about the opportunity to extend hospitality to family and friends in England! What a privilege and a gift this will be!

Pink Flowers

2008-04-25T17:19:00.000-07:00

My dogwood tree has two pink flowers!

Champion of Change

2008-04-22T17:15:00.000-07:00

My days are filled with the truth of change.

My husband and I are noticing the effects of change. We learned that we would be able to live a dream and move to England.

Cashiers United Methodist Church is noticing the effects of change. I announced my departure, and my colleague announced his six-week sabbatical.

The Wesley Foundation is noticing the effects of change. My husband and the students are anticipating the close of this semester and the inevitable goodbyes.

My two year old daughter is noticing the effects of change. Just days ago she began the new journey of night time sleep without her pacifiers.

In the midst of it all, my daughter is undoubtedly the champion of change.

To be very honest, I am not sure who misses the pacifiers more, my daughter or her mother.

My own separation anxiety does not arise out of the minimal restlessness at night in the time before sleep; instead, it finds its way through my not too distant memories (last weekend in fact) of that little mouth and those little hands clutching those little pacies.

Admittedly, I shed tears even thinking about it. I recall the constant and careful rotation, as we would sit and read. From right hand to mouth to left hand and back again, the pacies would move as if on an amusement park ride. Yes, tears. But, tears of joy and new life.

Somehow the changes in life for me, as monumental as they really may be, pale in comparison when seeing through little girl eyes--when remembering the goodness of pacifiers. I am a grateful mother. And my daughter is truly the champion of change!

Moments of Surprise...Over and Over

2008-04-21T07:15:00.000-07:00

I scared the turkeys away this morning when I stepped onto the back porch. I watched and listened to them fade away into the hill. I, also, caught a lengthy glimpse of a beautiful woodpecker on a tree. It changed its course before my daughter could see it for herself, but we discussed its visit. If it is not a moment with the turkeys or woodpeckers, it's a moment with the deer or owl or bear or hummingbirds.

For some reason, moments such as these continue to surprise me. Even after four years of living on a secluded mountain, I somehow have these experiences over and over, as if for the very first time. I guess this is the undeniable city girl in me.

When we moved to Glenville, I didn't have any concept of darkness. I had always lived in places where street lights illumined the night. To be honest, I know now that I had never really seen stars and certainly not a shooting star streaming across the nighttime.

Every time there is a full moon, as there has been lately, like clockwork I ask my husband the same question, "Did you see the full moon?" Really, his response should be, "Of course... How could I not see it on this dark mountain." But, he always graciously says, "Yes." Then without fail, I respond, "Oh, isn't it gorgeous?!"

I deeply appreciate the beauty of the mountains, and I treasure every surprise moment that I experience over and over. Yet, I still can't deny the city girl in me.

Thatcham, England

2008-04-17T17:58:00.000-07:00

Our home-to-be in Thatcham!!

Glenville, North Carolina

2008-04-17T17:44:00.000-07:00

Our home in Glenville!!

A New Home

2008-04-14T12:03:00.000-07:00

I am anxiously waiting for my pink dogwood to bloom! Sadly, it didn't bloom last year because of a heavy April frost. Those beautiful pink flowers were noticeably absent, and the view from my front porch swing was simply not the same without them. Now the springtime snow has fallen on those bare, dogwood branches. The freezing temperatures have persisted for several days. I am holding my breath and watching.

My heightened sentiment for those pink flowers has come in response to the news of our upcoming relocation to England. I have really begun to notice the things of home--to see them with very sensitive eyes. So...I continue to watch and wait for the pink of the dogwood to appear. I gaze out from my front porch with hopefulness and anticipation. For me, this is more than simply a view--it is an image of home.

I am well aware in these cool, spring days that the location of my home will soon change, and I am clinging to the image of the dogwood that is life, peace, identity, quiet, family, simplicity, joy, comfort, place, and gift (yes, a tree from my husband!). What is a dogwood in bloom here will be something else there. We will exchange one place of home for another, and we will watch with hopefulness and anticipation for home to arise.

What I ultimately recognize in this image is that the things of home translate beyond Glenville, North Carolina, even into Thatcham, England. What we have discovered throughout our years in Glenville we will joyfully rediscover in Thatcham. It will be a welcome adventure to embrace a new culture! It will be exciting to explore this English town! It will be a blessing to find home in the midst of it all! And it will be so special to have these experiences with a lively, perceptive two year old!

I am grateful for my pink dogwood tree--flowers or no flowers--because in the midst of transition, it helps me to anticipate a new view that will narrate the familiar--life, peace, identity, quiet, family, simplicity, joy, comfort, place, and gift (and maybe a new tree awaits!). I look forward to life that remains filled with these things of home. I look forward to a unique setting for life together. I look forward to gazing out from another vantage point. I look forward to a new home!

Speaking Words Aloud

2008-04-12T18:21:00.000-07:00

There is power in speaking words aloud!

Although I knew it very well as a concept, it wasn't until I began to say out loud, "I will be moving to England and serving in The Methodist Church in Britain," that this concept became real--that this idea came to life. As my own spoken words fell fresh upon my ears (and the ears of everyone on the listening end), I realized immediately that this actually meant that I would be moving to England...!!

Admittedly, there was a part of me that thought, "Oh my!" Yes, there was a moment when I said to my husband, "Wow, this is really going to happen." Obviously, England was the ultimate dream and goal; yet, somehow in speaking this aloud, it had new impact. It had a new claim upon my life. In uttering these words, I was uttering words of truth. I would see, know, feel, understand, and respond in a different way after having heard myself say it. I was reminded that there is power in speaking words aloud.

I am grateful for this reminder!

After all, speaking words aloud is pivotal for my covenant in ordained ministry. So that I am faithful in my calling, I must be faithful in preaching--in speaking aloud the words of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. There is certainly power in speaking these words. Once they roll off the tongue and fall afresh, one hopes with all hope that there is new impact--that there is a new claim upon the lives of those on the listening end (and, yes, maybe even on the one speaking).

With distinct impact and refreshing claim upon my own life, I am humbled to hear myself say, "I will be moving to England and will be serving in The Methodist Church in Britain." Yet, I know that this humility has little to do with me and everything to do with God's grace that opens hearts, forges a path, and grants courage for response.

I have discovered a new sense of responsibility in uttering words of truth, as there is promise that they will be both impacting and life-claiming. Without a doubt, there is power in speaking words aloud!

Oh, the Joy of Easter!

2008-04-10T17:47:00.000-07:00

I was waiting for definite word about where I would be serving at the start of the new appointment year. It was a holy week like none other. I spent the week in quarantine with my husband, both of us suffering with influenza. Although much of this time was a blur, I finally received a clear word about my next church appointment. This would be one more step in the direction of new ministry, fresh opportunity, and in this case exciting adventure! I began to remember what comes on the other side holy week--EASTER! And it was time to share my good news with Cashiers UMC.

We have celebrated! We have rejoiced! We have sung praises! We have remembered the wondrous resurrection! Oh, the joy of Easter!

The disciples long ago discovered this joy, as the resurrected Jesus surprisingly appeared to them on various occasions. Jesus even instructed them, as Luke tells us: “You can see now how it is written that the Messiah suffers, rises from the dead on the third day, and then a total life-change through the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed in his name to all nations—starting from here, from Jerusalem! You’re the first to hear and see it. You’re the witnesses. What comes next is very important…”

So, what does come next for us as Easter people? We may very well find ourselves in the same posture as the disciples, following the ascension of Jesus Christ. “And they were on their knees, worshiping him.” We are overjoyed and humbled by the resurrection, but we are waiting to see what lies ahead.

The disciples were in between the glory of resurrection and the “what’s next” of life in faith. They were waiting for the promises to be revealed. They were anticipating something, but not sure what that something would be. Yet, despite the uncertainty, the “in between” was a place filled with hope and blooming life. And the disciples would have to balance delicately the present and the future.

These seasons of the “in between” can be exciting in our lives of faith, especially if we remember the hope and blooming life that abounds. We must always remember the hope and life in Jesus Christ, and we must expect that something will come next for us, as Easter people!!

I find myself completely reliant upon this hope and life because I am living in a season of “in between.” I am trying to balance delicately the present and the future. I am trusting in the promises that come with life in faith and ministry, and I am expectant for what will come next. Easter is the gift that has reminded me that there is hope and life amidst the in between, and this brings me to my knees!

In the past couple of months following the announcement of my anticipated summer departure, I have been grateful for the outpouring of love and concern. It has brought to light both the gift of faithful life in community and the difficulty of transition. Many people have asked about the “what’s next” for me, and I am pleased to share with you my plans for ministry beyond Cashiers.

Following an extensive application process and months of waiting, Timothy and I have very recently received confirmation from The Methodist Church in Britain that we will be placed in ministry appointments to serve churches in England. We will be moving in August to the county of Berkshire, which is directly west of London. Depending on which manse (parsonage) we choose, we will be living near either Newbury or Reading and serving in two separate but adjacent Circuits. I will be serving in the Newbury and Hungerford Circuit and Timothy in the Reading and Silchester Circuit.

This has been an exciting yet daunting decision, but thanks to Easter I have been reminded once again that there is hope and life in the “in between!” There is promise in the journey of faith! As I anticipate the experiences to come, I will cherish and hold tightly to the experiences of ministry that I share with you right now. May you know that by the grace of God these experiences are shaping my life and leading me forward into this new adventure.

I prayerfully trust that you too will find hope, life, and promise in what lies ahead for your life of faith and for the ministry of Cashiers UMC! Oh, the joy of Easter!

This is truly a dream bursting to life!

New Direction

2008-04-10T16:54:00.000-07:00

Following nine months of discernment, I disclosed in early 2008 to the church where I serve that I was seeking a new ministry appointment. Honesty is very liberating. The message that I shared with the congregation of Cashiers United Methodist Church introduces the new direction of my journey of life and ministry. These words begin my reflections of life at the riverbank.

I would like to have been at the river that Sabbath day. The prayers were being lifted in harmony with the soothing, life-giving waters. The fellowship was bearing witness to the need for life lived in community. Lydia and her companions were engaging in the familiar—sharing the everyday. Unsuspecting. Unassuming.

The visitors strolled along and joined them by the river. Little did the women know that this meeting would transform their lives. Little did they know that they would be set on a new direction of faith. Little did they know that the Lord would make an opening for them that would compel response.

We don’t know much about this encounter between Lydia and Paul and their friends, but what we do know is that Lydia heard something new that day. The familiar and everyday became something more. Her transformation and new direction culminated in her response through baptism, and she heeded the call, as “the Lord opened her heart.”

I often imagine myself sitting at the riverbank with that group of praying women. I think about such a grace-filled, seemingly unlikely occasion when hearts are opened and the word of the Lord falls afresh on innocent ears. I recognize the effervescent possibility at the waters edge when that call is heard. I understand all too well the transforming power of such an encounter.

I have been at the riverbank, and I have heard the unexpected call afresh on my ears. For me it means transformation and new direction, and as startling and unsettling as it may be, I have realized its truth for my life. Following much reflection and discernment, God has helped me to envision for myself a new path of ministry, and I have been compelled to respond.

At the start of the New Year, I submitted a formal request to our District Superintendent for a change in appointment. In this my fourth year of service at Cashiers United Methodist Church, I am humbled by my experiences of ministry and am grateful for the growth and learning that has come to me in this place. However, I see the inevitable promises of ministry that are to come at Cashiers UMC, and I honestly know that I am not the one to carry it forward.

With the needs of families, youths, and children at the forefront, I clearly understand that my own calling and giftedness do not compliment these important areas of ministry. I trust that there is another gifted clergy colleague in the waiting in the Western NC Conference, who can provide with energy and excitement new vision—new leadership—for our growing church. With this said, there is a wealth of opportunity for the next associate minister to be a leader not only in age-specific ministry but also in teaching, preaching, and providing pastoral care.

I do not yet know where my next appointment will be, nor do we have any idea at this point who will be appointed at the time of my departure. However, we do know that appointment changes are made at the end of June and that they happen concurrently. In the meantime, I will continue to live with you in the Cashiers UMC family, and I will continue to share this ministry that God has given us. It is my distinct privilege to be in service with you, and I thank you for your constant love, uplifting support, and faithful prayers.

I am honored to have been the first of what is sure to be many associate ministers at Cashiers UMC. I am thankful to have been able to help identify needs within this growing congregation and in turn to have been able to identify the desires of my own heart for ministry. At this point, I am no longer sitting at the riverbank. Instead, I am responding to God’s leading and am walking in a new direction of faith. May God’s grace and love sustain us along the way!

The journey continues...