I don’t care, Lord, I don’t care

Today I met with a pastor to talk about what it is that I’m doing out here in burbland as far as the Kingdom of God goes. It was a great talk, and he had many wise things to say about building friendships and connections in the place I live, and being knitted in to the body of Christ. He prayed over me before I left, which was awesome. As I often do at my church when someone prays for me, I had tears streaming down my cheeks by the end.

I think the Holy Spirit was so deeply at work in the pastor’s prayer that I felt compelled to continue to pray after our meeting was over. I went with my husband down to our church’s prayer room, and knelt on the floor. I cried and cried, just letting the Spirit wash over me.

One of the things that has been so hard for me in this season of the unexpected has been letting go of how I thought things would be. I wanted things to look a certain way, as I pursued this whole God-based career thing. But things did not end up looking as I wanted. As I knelt there before the cross, I prayed over this next season of intentional reaching out, my next season of non-traditional* ministry. I found myself in a place where I was crying out to God, just asking to serve and to give to His kingdom – in whatever way He wants. Even though I have prayed this prayer many times before, this time it was taking place at a more profound level, I think.

“Set me free” was playing on the sound system, and I sang along with that in my heart. Set me free, God. Set me free from my quiet but real need to feel validated and legitimized by outside metrics. Set me free from illusions of “success.” Set me free from fake, light relationships that bring no light to the world. Set me free from a fear of failing. Set me free to do your work, the work that you have for me, whatever it is. I don’t care, Lord. I don’t care. I’m ready to do your work, even if it isn’t what I thought you had for me. I’m ready to fail and look like an ass in order just to try and discern your will for me. (At least, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.)

Even though I dislike the super sincere blog post, I’m afraid that’s all I’ve got today. Nothing pithy, nothing funny, nothing terribly insightful. Just me, kind of emptied out by the days words and prayers, looking forward to the next season.

Rest assured, I’ll have something snappy and sassy to say soon, I’m sure.

______________

*or, incredibly traditional, depending on how you look at it!

Advent and the unexpected

Advent is my favorite season of the year. The scandal and beauty of Jesus’ birth never ceases to amaze me, and I think Christmas trees are pretty much the most awesome decorative item ever.*

One good thing about not being in a traditional ministry position this year is that I don’t have to participate in Advent/Christmas nonsense. By “nonsense” I mean things that in the church world can end up being distractions instead of aids to understanding the season. Examples of Christmas nonsense include: Decorating Committees bickering over whether to have red poinsettias or red AND white poinsettias this year; Christmas pageants that are showcases for child and/or adult talents, instead of opportunities to revel in the stable birth.

This year, I’m going to invite our little (VERY little) community to gather and celebrate that this weird, crazy, awesome thing really did happen. The Messiah, the long awaited one, really came here, to us. He was not born in a castle or even a decent home. He was born in the middle of life going on in an occupied territory, born to a woman passionate about the very thought of God’s justice and love, born in a place made for animals.

What a story. What a wild, unexpected, strange beginning for the Messiah. Should I be so surprised that my own life is so touched by the unexpected and the mysterious? Considering whom I follow and His life’s circumstances, maybe I should be a little less welcoming to the understandable, and a little more welcoming of the unexpected.

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*yes, yes, I know their pagan roots. IDK! I love them!

Fall colors – even in SoCal

The other day, my step-daughter, my husband and I went for a walk and collected some (non-native) leaves for decorating.

Martha they are not, but I still like them.

Here’s mine:

And here’s Bee’s:

In spite of the vagaries of SoCal weather (more fires already!), creation down here can be beautiful.

My step-daughter, who had a fabulous time on the second half of the walk, was whining about having to walk uphill at the beginning. Her dad and I told her she could either keep going or we could go home. That was the first time she ever said, “You’re a mean mom!” to me. She apologized (after paternal prompting) and was holding my hand and chatting about why leaves turn red three minutes later. Even though I knew something like this would (will) happen, it was still hard to hear.

But, did you know I was Wesleyan?

Ah, the day after Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is a cool reminder that the under-prepared, devout and slightly clueless Pilgrims were smiled on not only by God but also by good people who took pity on them. Of course, there were a lot of Pilgrims who didn’t make it to the feast, but we don’t talk about that much. In any case, Thanksgiving is a good holiday. I like it. But, I’m not one who needs turkey and family to have it be fabulous. I’ve had awesome Thanksgivings in wierd places with odd foods – a bus trip in Africa one year and salmon in D.C. another year stand out in my memory. This one was nice: just my husband, me and my BFF having burgers and pumpkin chiffon pie. Yum. (Oh, and a stop at the H’s house for leftovers and gabbing.)

But best of all – it’s nice to have four whole days off with very little to do – time to relax, read and goof off.

In the spirit of goofing off, I took two quizzes on the innernets.

The first quiz I took was designed to tell you what sort of theological worldview you possess. (The second was to answer “what theologian are you?” I am Anselm, evidently!)

Apparently, I am a Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan. I know that I went to seminary and all, but I’m not sure what that means, exactly.

The quiz explained it this way:

“You are an evangelical in the Wesleyan tradition. You believe that God’s grace enables you to choose to believe in him, even though you yourself are totally depraved. The gift of the Holy Spirit gives you assurance of your salvation, and he also enables you to live the life of obedience to which God has called us. You are influenced heavily by John Wesley and the Methodists.”

I’m totally in agreement, until we get to the last bit about John and the Methodists. If I’m heavily influenced by them, they must have been talking to me in my sleep. I’m afraid I haven’t read more than 10 pages of Wesley’s stuff; and I can’t say I’ve even dropped in on a Methodist church, ever. (Which, considering how many churches I’ve been to, is a little wierd.)

Here’s how they broke down my profile. I love how it is in percent of agreement. If only theology really were so quantifiable.

Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan – 79%; Emergent/Postmodern – 68%; Neo-orthodox – 57%; Fundamentalist – 46%; Charismatic/Pentecostal – 46%; Classical Liberal – 43%; Reformed Evangelical – 39%; Modern Liberal – 29%; Roman Catholic – 29%.

I love that someone took the time to put this quiz together. I often feel like I have inherited my theology from many streams. I have beliefs that put me squarely in the Fundy camp, some that are only OK if I am with Charismatics, and a few that are more acceptable in the Liberal world. I guess that is why I am trying to find my way in some “in between” world right now – still woven into the church as it is, but in the emergent church form. I still feel like such a failure that I didn’t keep “un-church” going, and that even now, as I consider organizing something during Advent, I’m plagued with self-doubt. Why hasn’t the pastor that I consider my mentor answered a recent email? It must be because I suck, right?

But, I do recognize that there is an aspect of this kind of self-doubt and fear that is wallowing in the “depravation” pool.

I mean really. Don’t I know that I’m a Wesleyan, for goodness sake, and that God’s grace enables me?

Maybe I should go take that quiz again.

Words

By pilfering some seminary notes, a few “meaty” blog entries, and doing some original writing, I’m up to 17,011 words now. Still behind, but coming along. . .
My step-daughter is in the room with me while I’m writing. The rule is that if Megan is “working on her book” (people are very indulgent around here), you can be in the room, but you can’t talk to her. No, not even if your Barbie Laptop (I kid you not, peoples) game is confusing.

That is what Daddy is for.

15,423 Words

Miguel asked me how many words I’ve written so far on my psuedo-NaNoWriMo project.  The past week has been the worst, as I’ve barely written a thousand words all week.  I decided I would take a few days off when I was visiting my in-laws, and then I just never got back on the path.  Sigh.  I should be somewhere around 27,000.

Hopefully more will come today and in the weeks that remain.   Even though I am pathetically behind, it is still amazing (for me!) to see that I have 33 pages of words all in one document. I am sure Annie Dillard writes 33 pages in two days, but I am not Annie Dillard, so that is OK.

Dear Very Nice Mac Verizon Expert in Tijuana

THANK YOU!!

Yes, you, Mr. Tijuana Verizon help line guy. You stayed on the phone with me for almost 45 minutes, helping me set up my DSL and router. You were sweet and helpful, and now I am back in the land of the innernets living!

You cannot imagine how happy this makes me, Mr. T Verizon. I was getting very lonely for the rest of the blogosphere.

Hi everybody! I IS BACK! Back with more stories about sucker free countdown, wheat thins and Jesus.

Pick up your faith spoon

I am at the public library in my town, trying to type as fast as I can, because I just got off work and it is 8:36 and the computer lab shuts at 8:45, but I am a VDB (Very Determined Blogger.) Lack of internet access shall not stop ME from posting.

Over the past few days, as I’ve been living my own little life of faith, I’ve been finding God sending me little postcards, letters and notes through strange little avenues. The day before yesterday, for example, I was watching this pastor preach on TV. I don’t know much about this Pastor Scott, but her Greek kicks ass. She was preaching about how the promises that God makes to all the characters in Biblical history also apply to us, here and now. She was reading a story about Hezekiah. This is how Pastor Scott rolls. She will preach the most beautifully obscure passages, which I totally love about her. I’ve also seen her preach on stuff that people have preached into the ground, and she’ll bring something fresh to it. She is like the poster child for seminarians REALLY learning Greek, not just faking it, like most of them did in my experience.

In any case, God has been keeping my faith fed in the past days with little things like this, but it has been reminding me how much I need to get my own head back into reading the Bible on my own. As my favorite pastor says, people of faith need to learn how to pick up a spoon and feed themselves the word, not rely on others to spoon feed them.

So this is a public reminder to myself that it is hard for God to be speaking to me through His Word (which is ALIVE, peoples) if I never spend no time in that Word. It is time for me to pick up my faith spoon and open up my cute daisy Bible more often.

Amen. (two minutes to spare. . .)

Hanging out with family. . .and DSL!

I’m down in Sandy Eggo county with my husband and my step-kids, visiting Grammy and Grandpa and their FABULOUS DSL CONNECTION!  Yes, we still are only with dial-up chez nous.  The DSL guru has not gotten back to us yet.

It’s nice to have in-laws that one likes to visit.  I know not everybody is blessed with such a situation, and I know enough to be grateful that I have such warm and welcoming in-laws.  I’m a bit sad to miss going to night church with my BFF, but I’m trying not to dwell.  I’m going to make a quick and dirty list of ten things that I’m grateful for today (in no particular order):

I have nice in-laws.

I have a BFF in Shauna, without whom I don’t know WHAT I would do.

A nice neighbor agreed to watch all of the pets – dog, cat and fish –  for us, free! (Thanks Holly!)

My husband. 

Christmas music!

One of my tutoring clients has been making remarkable progress in school.

Vitamins.  I feel so much better after having started taking vitamins.  I like me my vitamins.

That BBC, the cat that used to hiss and not let you touch him has turned into the most awesome house cat ever, who loves to be petted and purrs like a maniac.

The weather has been cool in Cali for three whole precious days.

That I got to go out last night and talk about theology and life with two super smart friends.

Life is so wierd without internet.  I depend on it for so many things now that I hardly know how to run my day-to-day life without it.  Everything from the mundane (bills) to the meaningful (emails) takes place there. Sigh.  One day it will be back.  One day.

Pop quiz: How do YOU feel about people?

Last night, for the third time in as many weeks, the neighbor’s dog started barking around 1 a.m.  I need a lot of sleep to be a civilized human being – somewhere around eight hours.  Every night.  When I don’t, I feel awful.  I don’t just feel a little sleepy.  I feel like death when I don’t get enough sleep.  So, when my sleep is disrupted, I get very upset.  Maybe I could say I get angry.  That would probably be fair. 

Last Thursday night I was awake from 1 a.m. until about 5 a.m.  because of the neighbor’s barking dog.  I had to call my  morning teaching job and tell them I was not competent to teach English.  I was simply too tired.  Last night, I decided there was no POSSIBLE way that my neighbors could not hear their German Shepherd barking every 3 1/2 minutes.  I also didn’t feel like missing out on teaching – for my students sake, as well as for mine.  So, I got out of bed and knocked on the neighbor’s door.  It was about 1:15 a.m.  They seem like nice enough people during the day.  I don’t know them well, but I’ve spoken with them several times.  Their dog sucks.  They have one of those big German Shepherds, and they just keep it in the backyard.  It is outside all day while they’re at work.  It barks off an on throughout the day.  I’ve never seen them take it for a walk, or even let it in the front yard.  Whatever.  People have different ideas about how to treat dogs.  I just couldn’t believe I was having to lay in bed and listen to someone’s dog drive me insane. 

It was surprising to me that I was willing to stand on their porch and tell them to make their dog be quiet, but this is the kind of thing I’m ready to do when I’m really desperate for sleep.  I didn’t want to call the police, because. . .because.  I live in nice suburbs.  Cops would seem extreme.  I don’t live in the part of LA county where calling the cops is “normal” anymore. 

I know it would freak me out if someone came to my door at 1:15 a.m.  But I also know that if I had a barking dog and someone came to my door in the middle of the night to alert me about said dog, I would apologize.  I would feel bad.  I would not be bitchy about it.  The dog went berserk while I was standing on the front porch waiting for someone to come to the door.  When the wife came to the door, she opened it about 2 inches.  I explained that the dog was keeping me up and that it had happened several times in the past.  I apologized for bothering her.  She said, “Well, there was something back there.”  What?  Give me a break, lady.  Your dog is bored and clamoring for attention.  It barks all day and sometimes all night.   I didn’t say those last things out loud. 

I don’t know if I did the “right” thing or not.  I knew from experience that once that dog starts the nighttime barking, it never stops.  I wish I had said something to them during the day last Friday, but I was hoping that it just wouldn’t happen again. 

This brings me to my pop quiz:  How do YOU feel about people?

I’ll tell you how I feel about people.  I laid in bed last night, after the dog was quietly ensconced in their house and I stewed.  I know this is not mature, and I wish I hadn’t, but I did.  I thought to myself, “People suck.”  People do dumb crap all the time – stuff like this and worse stuff.  All of us can think of plenty of examples, I’m sure.  By about 2 a.m. I was thinking thoughts along the lines of , “We’re all just a bunch of selfish, self-righteous creeps, basically.”  I had several stellar examples of immature, selfish, obnoxious, disruptive people in mind as the leaders of my personal pack of people who suck.  As I lay there, fuming, I had a horrible realization.

I’m a misanthrope.

You might think to yourself, well, Megan, that is unfortunate that you think people suck, and it is not a very nice way to go through life, and you sound like an immature cow, but that is your prerogative.  Go ahead and think like that.

Here is the problem with that.  Even if I was OK with the fact that I am sometimes a huge misanthrope – Jesus is not.  I have signed up to follow Him, and to work in His kingdom, and to play by His rules.  His most basic rule is to love my neighbor.  Ha, ha, Jesus.  Even if my neighbor has a barking dog that keeps me up when you KNOW I NEED MY SLEEP JESUS? 

I’ve looked in the gospels, and I can’t find the caveat that gets me out of loving people.  I know this is the most basic, boring, repeated sermon in Christendom: Jesus means love, and he means for us to love.  I know love doesn’t mean getting walked all over, or not fighting for what is right, or not telling the truth to people.  But it does mean after you’ve told the truth to a neighbor about a barking dog and they’ve put it inside, you should be able to go to bed, no matter how they treated you, and not stew and fume about how people suck.  Ahem.

I like to tell myself that I have learned a lot about how to love people because Jesus has changed my heart so much over the past ten years.   And that is true.  But all it takes is some lost sleep to take me right back to a place where my thinking is all twisted up.

So here is my prayer for my exhausted, cranky self today: Lord, help me to think about people the way you think about them.  Help me to consciously change the way that I think about my neighbors and people in general.  Change my heart, God.  For your son’s sake, for the world’s sake, for pity’s sake, change my heart. 

Oh yeah, and please let my neighbors put that dang dog inside every night. Amen.