Life, Faith, and Mommyhood

I'm Back. . .Maybe

2008-06-02T20:33:00.000-07:00

Some friends have recently started blogging and I found myself going back through my old posts. Partly due to nostalgia and probably a little over-ambition I decided to start posting again. Now, in all honesty, this will probably be my only post for 2008--just want to have at least one a year.

So. . .I might be back.

Or. . .I might not.

We'll see.

The New Me

2007-06-21T18:18:00.000-07:00

Over the last few months I have been acutely aware of my need to gain some balance in my life. Family life, church life, work life, life life have been in direct competition for too long now. So much so that I have sought out the wisdom and prayers of a spiritual director. She has me looking over the things in my life and identifying them as either consolation or desolation. And, she has me working on embracing the love of God instead of trying to achieve more of God's love. i.e. by doing a really good job at all of the various things I do. She said today that God could never love me less AND that God could never love me more. I knew that God could never love me less. I mean, I teach that to every teenager I talk to. That's the truth I carry with me. But to think that, even if I develop the best product ever at work or start running again and finally lose that baby weight or get through the day without raising my voice at my 4-year-old or sing in the choir or teach that bible study or take on every burden known to man--even then, God would not love me more than he does now. Hmmm. Now that's a thought that makes me want to sit down and soak it in. I think I will.

A New Thing

2007-04-11T18:01:00.000-07:00

So my blogging record has dwindled to once a year and I'm really embarrassed about it. I have a lot of (in my estimation) really profound thoughts, but I lack the fuel to get the thoughts from my head to the computer.

Anyhoo- I want to tell you about this new thing that is going on in the Youngman family. NO, IT'S NOT ANOTHER YOUNGMAN and don't even think it lest it become true!! Although, it does feel a bit like birth; I've been working on a record for the last nine months or so. At first I was too shy or emarrassed to say that I say out loud that I'm a songwriter, especially in Nashville. Seems a bit cliche. But this last year God just did some amazing things in my life to bring these songs to the surface. And, I got connected to a really great producer in Nashville, David Henry of Brother Henry, who helped me live into the idea of being an artist.

In the last month I have opened for Beth Neilsen Chapman who was very complimentary of me to the point of wanting me to send her the record when it's finished so she can pass it on to some crazy-famous artists that she thinks might want to cut a song or two; I have printed an EP to get a few of the songs out there before the whole thing is finished (the nights and weekends production plan takes a long time to complete); I had one of my songs selected for the emergent podcast; and I just walked out of the studio realizing that I had nine songs in the can. That means I've got one more to go and I think we'll call it an album.

I don't really know where this whole thing is headed, but I have to say that I am really cognizant of the way God lets various aspects of our callings percolate in us until just the right time. All of this is to say that God is always doing something in our lives and when we pay enough attention to it we can, almost tangibly, feel the presence of God doing a new thing.

My website is coming together. You can read my press kit and listed to a few songs at my epk site. Stay Tuned.

Happy Birthday To Me

2006-10-15T18:09:00.000-07:00

I've been 31 years old for two whole days now and I'm finding myself a bit reflective. I've been trying to assess what I've learned in my thirty-one years and here's what I'm thinking:

*naps are a really good thing
*so are Peanut Buster Parfaits
*that going to sleep and waking up next to your best friend makes every day worth the in-between stuff
*you should forgive an offender when you'd rather hold a grudge
*that loving people just the way there are is really, really hard sometimes
*that's it's probably hard for other people to love me just the way I am sometimes
*that girl's night is increasingly essential
*that kids are exhausting and amazing at the same time
*that there really is a time and season for everthing under heaven
*that following Jesus is a decision I have to make every day
*that living out your dream may sound crazy, and even be crazy, but it can make you feel so alive
*that God is always doing a new thing
*that I'll be thinking about all new things when I'm 32

May it be so--

A Dollar A Soul

2006-04-24T16:59:00.000-07:00

The other night while waiting for Mark to come home I was in a channel-surfing trance until I came upon a "Christian" station that was having a telethon. The preacher was bouncing and repeating himself because he said it was so good we needed to hear it again. He was talking about sowing seeds and reaping harvests. He said if we have enough faith and believe that we will reap a harvest than we'll get it. If we don't have enough faith we'll be stuck with a cancer or other illness, broken relationships, loneliness, and over all misery. He was really laying it on.

The bad part is that he wasn't the bad part of the whole deal. Across the bottom of the screen there was a ticker. It read, "Give $1,000 to save 1,000 souls. Give a dollar a soul." Of course he never actually substantiated that our money would indeed pay for the salvation of a soul. I'm not exactly sure how that whole system works, but boy was he preaching it! Would I be able to see the face of the soul I was saving? Is there some kind of quantity discount?

I'm wondering. . .for all the "abominations" Christians go on about these days, shouldn't someone, somewhere be speaking out about this crap? Shouldn't we be concerned with the heretics that attach American dollars to souls and brainwash vulnerable people into believing their lack of faith is why they're not rich or plagued with a disease or reaping a "harvest"?
What the heck???!!!

Here Goes. . .

2006-03-15T11:53:00.000-08:00

This is my attempt to take the Gavin approach to blogging and just sit down to write something even though I have no idea what to write. Here goes. . .

Mark is in his final stage of ordination that propels our family into the cycle of itineracy. I've known all along that this would be the life we live and I'm OK with it. People ask me how I'll deal with it as if it's a disease we'll live with forever. I just think about all the different experiences we'll have that we wouldn't necessarily choose for ourselves. For instance, we probably wouldn't have chosen a small-town 70 miles away from Nashville, but we so value this experience and some relationships we've formed.

I realized the other day that I've never really had a sense of having a "home church" that people speak of. All my life I've sort of lived in the community, but enough outside that if I left it wouldn't be the end of the world. As I say those words a sinking feeling comes over me that maybe I've never fully committed myself to a congregation--given all of my prayers, presence, gifts, and service. But upon further reflection I think it was God's way of preparing me for the life we will have from now on. I have had great relationships in every church I've been a part of, but my "home" is in the larger community--the body of Christ. My membership is in a particular congregation, but all of me is a part of the Church. I wholeheartedly give my prayers presence, gifts, and service everywhere I go.

I'm also thinking that I'm part of a generation that is less about rooting itslef in a single congregation for life and more about what it means to be about the work of the Church in the world. Maybe that has something to do with it. All I know is that I'm ready for God to do what God will do as we continue this unpredictable pilgrimage toward the heart of God.

My Prayer This Day

2006-03-06T13:01:00.000-08:00

My God, in these quiet moments I caught a glimpse of your vision for me. Inspire me, my God, to carry into the everydayness of my life all to which I aspire at such a moment as this. May my faith have feet and hands, a voice and a heart, that it may minister to others--that the gospel I profess may be seen in my life.

I go this hour to encounter the routine of duty with a new vision. Equip me for my common tasks, that I may this day apply myself to them with fidelity and devotion. . .

. . .I give this prayer to you who inflames my soul with vision and desire, that I may be a faithful laborer in the fields you have assigned to my stewardship. Help me to be a good and faithful steward.

--a prayer by Norman Shawchuck

Wondering About the Will of God

2006-03-01T10:07:00.000-08:00

Scene:
10:30pm- feeding baby and putting him to bed for the night
10:35pm- remembering to tell husband that I love him
10:40pm- begging God for a night of peaceful rest
1:00am- unanswered prayer: baby wakes to eat
1:30am- baby grunting himself back to sleep; disappointed that he didn't sleep until 2 or 3.
1:35am- trying to recall a scripture verse that might give me comfort
1:40am- "Trust the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will make straight your paths."
1:41am- Trusting as hard as I can and wondering why my paths still seem crooked; recalling scripture not working as comfort
1:42am- begging God to let him sleep until 7
4:45am- unanswered prayer: baby wakes w/o definite hunger cry
4:45-6am- on-again-off-again sleeping and crying
6:00am- baby is ravenous due to mother's failed attempt at assessing baby's cry
6:30am- determine sleep is now pointless; decide to get over it
7:30am- shower; wonder if unanswered prayer is more about my lack of faith and God's will or baby being only 4 weeks old; concluding the latter and determining myself officially ridiculous for wondering in the first place
8:00am- Forgetting about lost sleep and loving every second with the sweetest little baby in the world

Seven Months Later

2006-02-16T10:04:00.000-08:00

Here I am again. Contrary to my last post I am not grieving anymore. In fact, I am celebrating new life. My two-week-old son sits next to me in his bouncey seat listening to ocean waves and (hopefully) drifting off to sleep. During my pregnancy I just couldn't bring myself to blog and, at times, I wondered if I'd lost my blog voice all together. I'm not sure that anything I write these days brings a whole lot of profundity, but at least (and probably at most) I'm interested in any insights I can pull out from these sleep-deprived, constantly talking about what kind/color and how many diapers Myles has, heart-gushing-with-love days at the Youngman house.

Several times throughout my pregnancy I wondered if I had enough love to give a second child. My heart spills over with love for my little girl so much that I almost mourned the loss of time with her I knew was impending with a second child on the way. I wondered how any heart could be that big. Then I remembered one of my favorite passages of Scripture: Romans 5:1-5. Indeed, "God pours his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which is given us". I didn't have enough love on January 31, but the minute I met my little Myles on February 1, God poured his love into my heart. I loved him so much and I was dying to see my daughter and share all of the excitement and love with her. The other day I was sitting on the couch holding Myles with Gracie curled up next to me. I nearly burst with fullness and joy. And then it hit me: I spend my days and energy trying to work out my theology, reading and talking about what it means to follow Jesus. I talk all around a truth that I miss because I forget its realness. God is as interested in me as I am in what my newborn son's diaper contains. God looks at his children and feels like I did that night on the couch. As much as I love my children and my life--as full as I feel right now, God loves us, loves me, more. I hope I don't soon forget that when I get back to my analytical ways.

Grieving Still

2005-07-25T17:12:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went to a memorial service for some amazing people I knew who tragically died in a plane crash. A mom and her two teenaged daughters lost their lives and the father clings to his life in a burn unit. Tragic loss is hard any time and for anyone. But this family was amazingly gifted, giving, selfless, and committed to the Church universal. This family was at the church whenever the doors were open. This family lived in a wealthy area where most kids went to private schools--they sent their girls to public schools to ensure exposure to diversity and just to support the public school system. These parents wanted to teach their girls to give voice to the silent, food to the hungry, hope to the hopeless, and help to anyone in need. This family made sure their identity was in their actions and not just their words.

I'm struck by my lack of ability to believe this has actually happened. I haven't seen them in about six months and if I'm honest I probably haven't thought about them either. Now that they're gone I realize what an example they were to me and to everyone who knew them. I can't believe I barely noticed it before. I had hoped that the memorial service would give me some closure, but it didn't. I don't know why. All it did was stir up in me a disbelief of the fact that they are really gone and a conviction to be the kind of parent Diane was to her girls.

I wish I was that kind of Christian who didn't have to think, "why did God let this happen?" I wish I could get over that thought and be comforted by the Great Comforter. I wish I could go immediately to the knowledge that God, in his great mercy, will heal the recovering father, the broken hearts of all of the friends and family, and even me. I'm not there yet. My heart is broken and all my mind will do is wonder why this horrible thing had to happen to such an amazing family.

Predicting Chaos

2005-07-19T18:02:00.000-07:00

Sorry to be away so long, friends. My busy schedule and pregnant tiredness have kept me away too long. Even as I type this I am half asleep and wondering what I will write. I guess I will tell you about a vision I had today.

Some background: My brother is a single (for now), 30-something Spanish teacher who spends his summers seeing the world. Usually around this point in the summer I'm wondering what I was thinking not becoming a teacher! I digress. . . This summer he chose Venezuela as his destination and planned to meet up with some friends he had met online. He left in June and we heard from him a few weeks ago (or an alien that took over his body) about how he had fallen in love and planned to get married October 2. THIS OCTOBER 2!! Nothing like giving your family time to plan and save to come to your wedding! Anyway, he sent an email that sounded nothing like the brother I know and everything like a smitten, lovesick guy who swears he can't leave Venezeula without his true love. Did I mention that she doesn't speak English and pretty much nobody but Jason in our family speaks Spanish?

I come from a very large family. Some (my husband) might call us loud and sometimes obnoxious, but I call us fun and exciting. Semantics, I guess. Anyway, the flurry of phone calls, emails, research on travel arrangements among my family thus far has been funny in and of itself. My step-mother was concerned about my taking Gracie since it's a "third-world" country and all. She wrote it in an email, but she would have whispered it as though third world was a bad word if she was saying it to me. (Is it really considered a third world country? I don't know.) My mom has said the phrase "go through customs" so many times in the last two weeks, I'm getting suspicious about what she thinks she's going to bring back.

And so to my vision: Our families are meeting at some beautiful, outdoor restaurant on the beach; the mountains and crashing waves are our background. Jason introduces us all and we smile like we know what he is saying. Then he introduces her family to us and they act like they know what he is saying. Then there is a brief lull in the "conversation". Before it gets uncomfortable, my Dad starts making up Spanish words and speaking them with such authority that her family feels too bad to ask what he is saying. They say something back to him in Spanish and he keeps up with the fake Spanish words as if they are having an actual conversation. He won't tell us what he said--it's a private matter.

Then, my mom and step-mother want to throw their hats into the conversation ring. They turn to the fiance's mother or aunt and don't pretend to know Spanish, but feel like if they triple the volume of their regular speaking voice, they just might be understood. So my Dad is making up his own language and my mom and step-mom are screaming their lungs out and my soon-to-be sister-in-law is thinking that she has just joined loudest, most obnoxious family ever. Hopefully my husband can learn how to say to her in Spanish, "it's really fun and exciting to be part of this family."

2005-06-26T20:26:00.000-07:00

A letter was taped to my front door yesterday. It was from a friend I had visited with a few days before. She read a book about missions and really wanted to talk about what was going on in her heart. I have been wrestling with my self-diagnosed laziness about being the hands and feet of Christ, so I was eager to talk with her in the hopes that we might put our efforts together and see what God might do. We talked for a few hours and while we come from different traditions and have different ways of getting to what we believe, I felt like we had a great conversation and knew it was the start of something.

Then I got the letter. For the most part, she said she was glad we had talked, but the tone didn't communicate that. During our visit she talked about wanting to have Bible studies and talk to people about Christ. When I said that we didn't need to just think in terms of study and prayer, that feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and speaking for the powerless or someone who felt defeated is a demonstration of Christ's love in itself. I said that if the act is girded with prayer and our hearts have at their core communicating that God is the one who can really meet their needs it might do more than simply telling them that Jesus loves them. She basically negated that as plain-old social work (not in so many words) and said that we needed to read the scriptures to people and let God's word live. I wonder if God's word lives because of what we do or because we speak it. I suppose it is both.

Despite our differences, I still felt good leaving her house. To my dismay her letter was a defense of her position. For some reason she felt like she needed to convince me that we couldn't really help people apart from the help of God. She thought I was saying that if people think I'm great because of what I do for them, then they'll think my God is great too. On the contrary, I really do think it's important to communicate to people that God loves them and that he can meet needs that I could never dream of being able to help.

My friend Kara (darewebe.blogspot.com) just started blogging and her first post tells a beautiful story of helping someone whom she will probably never see again, but knowing that it was God's work. She's wrestling with vocation as I guess I am too. I want so desperately to have a cause, a mission. I want to be doing something to end poverty, love the unloveable, and heal the sick. Instead, I just wrestle with what I'm supposed to do.

I don't know why the letter got to me so much. It's OK with me that we come to missions and ministry from different perspectives, but I don't think it's Ok with my friend. What to do with differences among believing friends? How to reach the world with the message of the Gospel?

On a completely different note, Gracie has officially been a 2-year-old for a week. More to come. And check out Mark's blog at nostynostril.blogspot.com. (My hyperlink button isn't working today).

2005-06-15T11:09:00.000-07:00

You scored as Emergent/Postmodern.
You are Emergent/Postmodern in your theology. You feel alienated from older forms of church, you don't think they connect to modern culture very well. No one knows the whole truth about God, and we have much to learn from each other, and so learning takes place in dialogue. Evangelism should take place in relationships rather than through crusades and altar-calls. People are interested in spirituality and want to ask questions, so the church should help them to do this.

Emergent/Postmodern
86%
Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan
75%
Neo orthodox
71%
Roman Catholic
71%
Classical Liberal
50%
Charismatic/Pentecostal
46%
Reformed Evangelical
36%
Modern Liberal
29%
Fundamentalist
4%

I like the idea of being a "Reformed Evangelical". I don't really know what that means, but I think I want to be it. I'm surprised the Holiness/Wesleyan wasn't my number 1 type.

The Mystery of Raisin Bran

2005-06-08T05:51:00.000-07:00

I just finished a bowl of raisin bran and I am really confused by it. Why does it taste good? What about bran flakes is tasty? I'm also perplexed by the little dried up grapes. I don't like them on their own or in anything else, but in raisin bran they are really, quite delicious. It's like a surprise in your mouth because the raisins and the bran flakes have absolutely no visual appeal. There's nothing about them that makes you go "mmmm. . .that looks yummy!" But then you take a bite and sure enough--yummy they are.

I think I woke up too early this morning!

Cineplex Churches?

2005-06-04T11:47:00.000-07:00

I'm just now getting around to blogging about last Sunday's Tennesseean article about the church. Of course they had to talk to Rick Warren. He said that his dream was to triple their membership to 30,000 without building a new facility. He wants to have "movie church" where the bands do the music and then there's a video of him preaching. This way he can have services on the hour all weekend long. People can choose to pop in and pop out.

I know he is not the only one thinking about this; there are already people doing it. I'm sure the taped messages are engaging and all, but is that really what church is? Am I just old fashioned? This isn't the same thing as resisting the switch from organ to piano, or piano to guitar, or bringing a screen into the sanctuary, right? I'm all for visuals--all kinds of them, that's my thing. But to never see your pastor in person? Is that OK?

Two weeks ago we had some of our big authors come in for a meet and greet. Tex Sample was doing his schtick about participatory worship. He played a clip of a Janis Joplin concert and showed how the audience was just listening. She was the star. Then he showed a NIN concert and of course the audience was jumping, singing, etc. It was everyone's concert. His point is that UM churches need to take that difference seriously if they want to come back to life.

Then Adam Hamilton, the pastor of UM Church of the Resurrection in K.C. talked about why he started that church. He wanted to start a church that was all about reaching nominal and non-Christians and he believed that the Mainline church is where it's at for doing this. He talked about how so many Mainliners are content to say that their church is dying and then letting these churches die a slow heat death. Hamilton said that he wanted a church that was overtly UM, but that you could feel Life when you walked in the doors. He's a teaching pastor so he's got 7-steps for this and quips for that. But, his premise is so true. The Mainline church is sitting on thousands of years of history. It's not dying or going anywhere.

It strikes me that Rick Warren's cineplex model is 100% observation-style worship. The congregation gets to just sit there and take it in. He says he expects to grow to 30,000 with this model. Then there's Sample who says worship has to be participatory or people will stop coming. Are there really masses of modernists who are content with observing worship? I'm baffled.

Back to Normal. . .For Now

2005-05-29T18:02:00.000-07:00

Finally I think I am on the way to normalcy (although I'm sure some of you will argue that point). Between work, freelance, motherhood, and church stuff I have been SWAMPED. Whew! I have missed you friends.

I was in NYC last week and it was friggin' cold. This will sound really lame, but in my free time I went on a search for some tinted moisturizer with spf. It's summer: a girl's got to have some coverage! My hotel was just a few blocks from Bloomies so I went there first. As I walked up the stairs I saw the sea of make-up counters before me. I didn't have a clue where to start. Before I even had to make a decision I had been wooed. Our eyes met and I knew he was the one. He would be the one doing my make-up. I had hoped that we would be best friends, but now I think he was just using me. He lured me to his chair and began cleaning my face. Then he took out the very product that I was looking for and told me how beautiful I would look wearing it. He took such time and acted with such perfection. His use of the different brushes was exciting and exhilarating. With a little bit of this here and a little bit of that there he was transforming the old Jenny into something new and fresh and "soft" (I don't really know what that meant, but I wanted to be it). Then the moment came: he handed me the mirror. I would swear that angels sang and soft lights glowed around me. I looked beautiful. No wait. . .I looked &#$@ good!

And just like that it was over. I was only buying three of 20 things he said I desperately needed. His tone changed like I was his ex-boyfriend. He was uninterested and abrasive. I had broken his heart. He gave me the silent treatment as I made my purchase and left. I wanted to be best friends, but I had clearly crossed a line in not taking his advice and buying the $300 worth of product. I felt so used and abused. He said I was pretty--that my skin was flawless. He said I didn't even really need to wear all of the things he put on my face, though I was more pretty with them. He said I glowed. Now I know that was all a line to get me to buy stuff. I was deceived.

Back at home I've been wearing my tinted moisturizer with spf a few days and I don't even like it anymore. It turns my nose red and makes my face look oddly shiny. Somehow in the lights of Bloomies it really did "glow". I'm sure I could ship it back but what's the use.

I think tonight I'm going to read Psalm 139 until I fall asleep. Surely that's not just God's salespitch to hook us. God loves me and thinks I'm pretty, even without the perfect lighting at a makeup counter in a New York department store. I don't need Mr. Make-up in my life. He would probably just make me more self-conscious than I already am.

It was good to be with the church today--the people who really do love me shiny, red nose and all.

Randoms Thoughts

2005-05-22T11:20:00.000-07:00

Before I write anything else, let me just say that Gavin was the one following me around on Thursday. . .not the other way around!

Ok, now that that's out of the way--on to more random thoughts.

Emergent was like being back in seminary. It was fun to talk theology and ecclesiology non-stop--oh, and don't forget hermeneutics. Sometimes when I'm with "normal" friends I start talking about that stuff and they're like, "Jenny, you sound like a complete dork." I love to hang out with people who love the church. My soundtrack for my short time at the convention is Derek Webb's song, "The Church". I LOVE that song. It says, "I haven't come for only you, but for my people to pursue. And you cannot care for me with no regard for her. If you love me you will love the church."

I only made it to the Scripture learning community and it was awesome!! Brian McLaren started by talking about how in love he was with the Bible and how not a day goes by that he doesn't read God's Word. He said a lot of other brilliant things, but that's the one thing that convicted me the most. I read something everyday, but not always the Bible. I read Anne Lammott, Dan Miller, Kathleen Norris, John Wesley, Reuben Job, Brian McLaren, a lot of blogs--but the Bible is nearly never my first choice. I'm really convicted about that because I don't find my place in the story if I don't love it and long for it daily.

I was so glad that Jonathon and Co. identified the "emo" look. Before I got there I was worried that I was going to look really out of place. My perception of who I thought I would see was young, hip-looking, goatee-having, messenger bag carrying, Vans-wearing, trendy people, of whom I am definitely not a part. And, while not everyone looked like that, it was definitely the dominate look. Funny, really. How I wish I could be hip.

So, not the profundity of Lynnette's or Jonathon's posts, but I was only there for a day. I'm hoping everyone else's thoughts and wonderings will spill over enough so that it's like I was there. I'm fried from such a crazy week and tomorrow I'm off to NYC for a conference that will have me fried and toasted. I'll blog if I can. If not, that's all until next weekend.

Focus

2005-05-13T19:40:00.000-07:00

I feel like I could write about 15 different things right now. I'm am really taken aback by the whole "lack of female leadership in emergent" dialogue. I could go on about the whole good-ole-white-boy-with-goatee problem that abounds, but I think Lynette has articulated it better than I could, especially since she is actually in the movement and I'm in Tullahoma (definitely NOT an emerging area).

I could also write about a comment Jonathon made in his blog about what he likes about Jim Wallis. He said that he appreciated that Wallis knew who he was--evangelical. It got me thinking if I really know who I am. . .I mean if someone were talking about me to someone else and wanted to describe me in a few words, what would she say about me? Progressive evangelical? Liberal? Conservative? I have friends that when I hang around with them I feel like a total conservative. On the other hand, here in Tullahoma I feel like people must think Mark and I are flaming liberals. So I'm thinking. . .what would people say? (And then I'm also thinking is that thought even worth my time?)

The heaviest weight on my right now is finishing my CIC module. I was so excited to get to write something for fun since I edit and write all day long for work. However, the extra work is really starting to weigh heavily. I guess I'm feeling the same way that some of my writers feel when they are about to turn in an assignment and are worrying about the deadline.

Finally, my passion--the thing I want to think about constantly until it comes to fruition is this church plant idea that Mark and I have been talking about for the last week or so. We were dreaming of the greatest church we could be a part of and we got to talking about having a downtown church that wasn't known for the tallest steeple and the richest people, but for being the church for homeless people, travelers, young people, old people, rich people, poor people, multi-ethic, varying socio-economic situations. It would also just be a place where people loved being the church, loved each other, and hungered for time together in worship. We dreamed that we'd sing ancient hymns and talk before and after the singing about the beauty in the words so people could hang all for however many verses there were. We dreamed of the church writing new music to sing together--born out of the organic nature of the community. We dreamed that we'd have communion every week to feed our souls and then lunch together to feed our bodies. I know this is happening in places and we just don't know about them. I'm thinking though, that we don't know about them because they're not happening around here. I hope I'm wrong and naive about this.

At first we talked about how connecting to the whole emerging thing would be great, but then we remembered that methodism started as ministry with the poor and imprisoned. At the Healthy Churches event in Houston a British Methodist leader gave a message called "Remember the Foundry." He said that the worst thing to happen to the methodist movement was the "mahoganization of the church". That is, when the church became more about fancy buildings and pomp and circumstance than living out the gospel. I continue to be challenged by that. So, while the emerging thing is great and challenging for the church, I'm thinking that maybe United Methodists just need to go back to being who we were. We need to remember the foundry--where the spirit of true methodism began and the gospel was truly lived out.

I'm pretty sure I could keep on writing tidbits, but that's neither interesting nor fruitful. Excuse the randomness. I'm off to watch Life Aquatic. I hope it's good. Good night, friends.

Blue Mountain

2005-05-09T12:09:00.000-07:00

So for the past week I've been at my brother and sister-in-law's log home on Blue Mountain in Pennsylvania. As I write this I'm sitting on their deck looking at the budding trees and blooming flowers. . .oh yea, and I'm also dodging pesky bees that are about to scare me right inside. I like to think I'm much tougher about it than I am, but I'm not at all. I'm a wimp about bees and wasps.

Anyhoo, my brother goes to a new Wesleyan church plant. The pastor used to be a UM guy. He graduated from Asbury and did the whole itineracy thing for a while. He felt like God was calling him to plant a church, but his conference didn't give him as much freedom as he needed to do what he thought God was calling him to do so he left the UMC. I don't know why I mention that except that he is a really good pastor and very into the emerging church. It's a shame there wasn't room enough for his ministry in the UMC. That was a few years ago, so maybe things would be different today.

Thursday was the National Day of Prayer and the church was in the middle of a sermon series on prayer. That night they had a service that started with praise and worship music with an awesome band and then multi-sensory stations spread around the church--including a family friendly one where kids painted tiles and they built a mosaic wall of prayer. It was really, really cool. I've done prayer stations before, but this was the most seamless and meaningful for me. In one room we ate bread and drank water as we prayed for the world--that through us Christ would be bread and water for a hungry and thirsty world. That is still sticking with me.

"Pastor Dan's" (that's what they call him) last sermon in the prayer series talked about the power of blessing other people with our prayers. That's also sticking with me. He said that when someone tells us his or her story and we don't know how we can help or know that we can't do anything about the problem, that our first instinct should be to want to pray for them. I know a lot of people that I love very much and would really like to solve their problems. Pastor Dan said that I can't solve their problems, but I can point them to hope, peace, and reconciliation through prayer. I'm going to start doing that.

So, it's beautiful here and I love being with family. They have a new baby (Jordan Abigale--she's beautiful), so it's been crazy around here with a newborn and a toddler. One of them is always crying and waking up the other. I'm pretty sure they're about to kick Gracie and me out of the state.

More when I return to the southland in the springtime.

Exhaustion, pt. 2

2005-04-29T17:27:00.000-07:00

At this moment I finally have peace, solitude (except for the dog snoring), and silence--note that peace and silence are two different things. Gracie was crazy today and since I'm mostly crazy (about parenting anyway), we made for quite a pair. The funny thing is that this very moment I know how to parent. I know what I should do when she openly defies me. I can imagine myself in the middle of TWWTTYO (The War With the Two-Year-Old) and I am acting calm, together, and speak a language she understands and respects.

The real story is that those moments crowd out every other perfect moment of the day. There were maybe three times that just about broke me today, but the rest was complete joy. There is nothing like snuggling and sleeping in with your child. Singing in the car on our errands fills me with such fullness I sometimes cry. At the end of the day I want to be able to forget the craziness and remember the joy. Why is that so hard? Why do I walk out her room after putting her to bed and recount the failures of the day instead of the awe-filled minutes.

I think the whole disease, for me, is more than just about my growing as a parent. Why do I look back on the failures of my life and see them in greater proportion than the joys. I have an amazing husband, unbelievably perfect daughter, a job that incites my passions for ministry, friends that make me want to live on a commune so we can always be together, and many, many more blessings.

I would love to get to the end of the day and not think about the failed attempt at discipline, the flopped conversation, the toilet paper on my shoe, the missed deadline. Instead, I want to recount the blessings of the day--the million shades of green I got to see on my way home, the giggles of a two-year-old who thinks I am the funniest person ever, the way my husband looked at me from across the room and filled my heart with love.

Starting now--literally--my head hits the pillow and I know nothing but joy, blessing, and fullness.

Exhaustion

2005-04-28T17:25:00.000-07:00

One week into blogging and I'm already out of things to say. Think sheer exhaustion. If I proceed to post a thoughtful reflection I'm sure I'll make a fool of myself. So I guess that is all I have to say today. I'm sure this one is going to get a lot of comments:-)

Random thoughts

2005-04-25T17:35:00.000-07:00

I had dinner with a friend the other night and we talked a lot about her struggle with whether or not to leave her church. She talked about the preacher and how every week he gives a "come to Jesus so you don't go to hell" sermon and comes across angry and hateful. I totally get that that church is not home for her. However, our conversation ended up being about what worship is supposed to be. I said that worship is all about what we do and not what we get out of it. I said that it doesn't always matter (though usually does) if the sermon is completely lame. I said that singing hymns, saying creeds, reciting the psalms, and hearing the gospel read is what worship really is. My friend had a hard time with that because she wanted to be "fed" for the week. I get that. I want to be fed too, but we don't go into worship with that attitude, right? I think we do get fed through worship, but that is secondary to the worship of God. Whether or not we get fed or not isn't the point, but when we worship we experience God, and how can we not be fed?

She heard me saying that the sermon doesn't matter, but that's not what I meant. Believe me. . . I think sermons matter! It's just that the sermon is still worship. Our hearing, understanding, and responding to the sermon is worship, not feeding. Our souls being fed in worship is God's gift to us because of our wholehearted worship. I don't know; maybe it's all semantics.

Finally posting some thoughts

2005-04-22T13:20:00.000-07:00

Alas, I finally blog on my blogspot!

I saw a Sara Groves, Bebo Norman, and Fernando Ortega concert last night at a Baptist college in Chattanooga. The venue was a large sanctuary with jumbo tron screens. It turns out that the college was having a prospective student weekend and all of the "prospective students" got free tickets. Mark and I were among the few "elderly" folks there. OK, so we're not really that old, but we felt like it last night.

The hosts of the concert were staff of the college and just about did us in. We felt like we were in a scene from the movie, Saved--complete with a "Give me an 'A'. Give me a 'W'" and so on until everyone was screaming, "Jesus is Awesome". I'm not kidding. And while I do believe that Jesus is, in fact, awesome, I had a very hard time getting into the cheer. The funniest part of the pre-show was a guy who went on a rant about how thankful he was for his salvation (and let me just say that I am as well) only to end his remarks with, "And I am so excited about the day of judgment". Then he walked off stage. Mark and I laughed out loud. I don't think anyone heard us, but it was a really funny statement.

We talked some more this morning about why that seemed so funny to us and why the whole "Jesus is Awesome" cheer seemed a little far out. We decided that it plays into the need to either get people jumping up and down or crying their eyes out and racing to the altar. I think sometimes it's all about emotion at the expense of intellect and true reflection on what it means to love and be loved by God. I also thought about the level of extremes in that model and that there is no time for silence or introspection. I'm thinking that you don't have to be on the brink of emotional meltdown to experience God. I'm still thinking about it.

OK, now on to the concert. Can I just say that Sara Groves is my hero? I've always thought it was weird that people put singers/bands on pedestals (except for my affair with Bon Jovi in junior high), but my Sara is simply amazing. Her honesty coupled with her simplicity and amazing voice put me smack dab in a space of grace. Her music for me is a means of grace--especially her song about her son that says, "He looks like an angel when he's sleeping. . .but he looks like Charles Bronson when he cries. . ." OK, so that one is less than spiritual, but most of them say everything that I want to say but can't express. I don't want to be her, but I do strive for her sincerity in songwriting.

Bebo and Fernando were good, but I wasn't there for them. Bebo talks to much and Fernando wasn't as good with a band. I just like him at the piano, with only a cello or something.

I suppose this is all for today. The Youngman house is working on what discipline is the right discipline for children, so I should have some pretty funny stories about my attempt to be authoritative. Peace for now.