Thanksgiving in America and BFD

We celebrated Thanksgiving in America for the first time in 4 years. While some things seemed normal, some things took me by surprise.

We drove to my uncle's house at which 4 of my 5 cousins were there with their families. We ate the quintessential turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. Although with two kids, we found that we did not overstuff ourselves as we kept tabs on them between bites.
We enjoyed meeting some new 2nd cousins and introducing Ceara and Caleb to everyone, too.

I enjoyed watching Thanksgiving football for the first time in 4 years.

Yet I came across a new term, which surprised me: "Black Friday." Now I had always heard of the term used in ways to denote something negative. Yet my cunning intellect reasoned from the bombardment of advertisements that it meant the day after Thanksgiving. I looked on Wikipedia to find the origin of its use in this context - because obviously retailers intend it positively. I saw an RV parked outside a Kohl's in preparation for a 3am opening. People across the country lined up the day before (on Thanksgiving Day!) to ensure their chances of getting a good deal...

I was astounded and appalled by the degradation of Thanksgiving from a time to remember what we have (which may not be 'things') and give thanks for them to a time set aside to acquire more stuff, more things, more... Maybe I notice it more acutely now because I haven't experienced this insanity for the past few years. Maybe the term "Black Friday" should still have a negative implication?

I know, I know - Thanksgiving... A lot of time well spent catching up with family - I should write about that rather than writing about Black Friday Deals. Ironic this acronym is BFD... I wonder what would happen if "we the people" stood up to our overconsuming culture and said, "BFD to BFD." If we took more time to be thankful for what we have instead of plotting how to get more. If we took all the time, energy, resources, and passion exerted in shopping and, instead, used it to reconcile broken and hurting relationships in our lives or reaching out to those we know have brokenness... God help us - seriously.

I am out of practice at writing. I struggle to articulate a complete thought. I have noticed it effecting my spoken word as well. I find myself gesturing with hands, lips, and eyebrows to finish many sentences. I guess this another attempt in the 'just keep writing' vein.

fun video clips of Ceara and Caleb

click on the links below to watch some cute, short videos of our kids.

Ceara pushing Caleb in the Bumbo

Ceara dancing at daycare

Caleb "talking"

Whirlwind Weekend

I know I missed writing last week - I thought about it everyday. I didn't want it to happen two weeks in a row, so I thought I would try to recap the weekend while I wait for my out of Pittsburgh.

Friday I had the tremendous opportunity to hang out with a bunch of college students from various colleges and universities across West Virginia. The weekend had the theme of "Spiritual Disciplines", and they asked me to share about the link between missions and spiritual disciplines. (I stumbled through that on Saturday morning.) Beyond this, though, I enjoyed having time to talk with and listen to these students navigate their faith journeys in this world. I'm thankful the students invited me and the campus ministers allowed me this opportunity.

Saturday as I drove from one college retreat to my next engagement I had the opportunity to reconnect with some friends I haven't talked to in a while. That time served to fill my soul for a bit.

On Sunday I had the opportunity to preach at Trinity UMC in Scotsdale, PA. What a lovely congregation. Nervous though I was before the sermon, stepping into the pulpit felt like slipping on a pair of well-worn, comfortable jeans. So thankful for that time.
After church a lady in the congregation took her 90 year-old Aunt Jenny and me to hear the symphony in Pittsburgh - something invigorating and inspiring about live music...

Today I had shared at two different churches about an hour apart about joining and partnering with people in mission around the world. Each presentation took a different shape with the stories shared and the approach to partnering in mission.

This weekend reaffirmed my call to share, teach, preach, work with young adults, and work in the global community.

Well, we're getting ready to board, so that's all for now.

Back in the Saddle Again

This past Sunday Courtney gave me the opportunity to preach at her congregation. An opportunity for which I am truly grateful. I have not preached in church for over a year, and I missed it.

I had trouble sleeping on Saturday night...

On Sunday it felt like I was back doing what I was created to do. Woohoo! The song that comes to mind is: "I'm back in the saddle, again..."

I'm thankful for God's inspiration and strength and insight,and for this opportunity.

I look forward to the next opportunity in two weeks in Western PA, and then hopefully here in Saco in the not too distant future.

In other news, Court's parents arrived last night and will be here for the next week. We're going to try to make a fresh lobster lasagna. mmmm. Then my Aunt will come for a week. Maybe we'll try to make lobster ravioli with her.

well, that's all for this week.

Learning to See - again

I'm on a train heading back to Maine. I spent the last few days in New York City for some meetings on missions with my organization. I'm tired, yet hopeful and inspired.

Traveling has a way of helping me to see things from fresh perspectives...

Court has invited me to preach this Sunday at her church, and maybe because of the stories in Luke dealing with blindness and sight I'm more open to possibilities and thoughts on "seeing" and "sight".

My roommate in New York told me an encounter he had upon arriving. The Subway in NYC had maintenance work occurring over the weekend - which altered the service of some of the lines. He got turned around and, finally, asked for directions of a Subway official. As he headed back to the platform a blind lady stopped him, "Excuse me, from where did you come and where do you want to go?" He told her. She replied, "Well the directions that man just gave you are wrong. What you want to do is..." and she proceeded to tell him the best route. She ended with "I can't believe you didn't see the signs at Penn Station - they're everywhere."
We had a good laugh about that last point - and it had me thinking about we who can "see" don't really "see" at times.

The other story happened to me in Boston on the way down to New York. I had a 2 hour layover between trains and decided to grab coffee and try to write for a bit.
I sat at a table with my journal open, sipping coffee, and people watching. An auburn hair, freckled man set his things down at a neighboring table and proceeded to tally receipts speaking to himself in French and English. After he finished, he packed his bag, turned towards me looking intently, "And you, you have a VERY good week, sir." I paused and asked him if his accent came from Southern France. We chatted briefly, and as he left I said a casual, "Have a good day..." Yet this stood in stark contrast to his intentional parting comment a few minutes before, and I suddenly saw something that I had lost over time. He spoke his words almost as a benediction while I spoke with casual, American, friendly indifference. In every encounter I have an opportunity to speak a word of blessing into and over someone's life, and my eyes had grown blind. When did these cataracts of indifference occur? I don't know - maybe they form when I'm preoccupied or think I don't have time and rush by people. Maybe they form when I don't actively exercise the ability to pronounce blessing.

While in NY we had an opportunity to tour part of the 19-story (I think) building which houses my organization and many faith-based organizations. It's amazing how an elevator ride can grant a different perspective on NYC - which is the photo I have attached.

Well, that's the stream of consciousness for this week.

May you have a VERY good week, and may you know hope and joy in ever deeper ways.

The "Jesus Loves You" Project - again

The other day I realized that I needed to restart the "Jesus Loves You" project. Honestly (and disappointingly), I can't remember when I stopped the project.

However, the other day as I walked around Biddeford it dawned on me that I had not pursued this project much at all lately.

What is the Project? Well, to begin I have re-posted(and revised a bit)thoughts from a blog entitled "The 'Jesus Loves You' Experiment" (24.March.2009) followed by some other thoughts.
***
The "Jesus Loves You" Experiment
"Jesus Loves You." Frederick Buechner tells a story in one of his sermons in which he hears this phrase directed at him as he walks through Central Park in New York one Spring day. He says that it catches him by surprise and it takes him a few seconds to realize what just happened, yet as he stops he finds that she has mingled into anonymity in the mass of pedestrians.

I read this sermon about five months ago, and this story confronted me, challenged me, and would not leave me alone. I have re-read it few times. I decided to try an experiment, and it has made a difference in my life. I don't feel nearly as bold as the woman in Central Park to speak these words aloud to those I pass on the street. However, as I walk down the street - or wait in line at the store - or people watch at the bus station, I look at each person and in my head say, "Jesus loves you!" This completely changes the way I see people. I say it in Latvian, and I need to learn the Russian - it helps me "contextualize" the situation. (When we were in Rome I tried to say it in Italian.) It challenges my inclination to judge or take offense or gawk or avert my gaze. It reminds me that God truly loves each and every person - the crippled beggar; the arrogant mafioso; the girl too young to have lost her innocence; "Jesus loves you!" - the important business person; the despondent store clerk; the toddler amazed by falling snow and his mother who needed a few drinks to cope with single-parenthood; "Jesus loves you!" - the bitter man too beat down to be amazed by anything at all; the young couple laughing as they walk arm and arm; the other couple whose yelling leads to blows; "Jesus loves you!"- the men from other countries here on "woman trips"; the young women who go after those men; the driver who cut me off in traffic; "Jesus love you!" - the ...

Sometimes this phrase leads to giving a loaf of bread or placing a coin in a palm or praying for a person throughout the day. Hopefully this can lead to the courage of the Central Park woman, for it is not enough for me to see people as loved by God, because they need to know it, too.

This experiment has me thinking of another experiment along similar lines to carry out simultaneously - the "I forgive you" experiment...

As you go through the rest of your day today, May you know in a tangible way that God loves you and that God's love is for everyone around you.
***

Biddeford and Riga may seem worlds apart, yet many things are still the same. People deal with hopelessness, exhaustion, domestic violence, crime, addictions, broken dreams, disappointment, failing health, aging parents, 'bad' things happening to 'good' people...

Although these manifest themselves in different ways in different communities, they happen all over the world. The same world in which we CAN make a difference by taking small steps everyday to be peace, to give hope, and to love those around us.

During the last few minutes of writing I have become distracted and struggle to string words together to make coherent sentences, so that is all for now.

"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..."

The other day in Court's sermon she mentioned that recently we introduced Ceara to "Finding Nemo." She likes the colors and sounds for about 15 minutes, and then she finds a hangar, empty box, or blocks to carry to another part of the house.

A song one of that characters sings is, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...swimming, swimming..." That's how I feel today.

I said I would write every Monday - whether I had something to say or not. And for those of you who know me, it's rare when I don't. My problem today is that I don't know where to begin or about what I should write. Yet I know that I need to "just keep swimming..."

On Friday, Courtney gifted me a few moments to go and write. Strands of thoughts that had been traveling on different tracks for the past two weeks finally seemed to merge in my head, and in some ways, my heart.

I wrote eagerly. I wrote with purpose. It felt good.

Today, however, I don't know how to put simple sentences together. (It has taken 35 minutes to write this much.)

But, today I need to just keep swimming... just keep typing... just keep thinking... just keep writing... just keep praying... just keep on keeping on...