new life

I suppose I could argue that I gave up blogging for Lent and that's why my last post was about Ash Wednesday. I have a friend who gave up giving up stuff for Lent. I like that.

I'm really excited that tomorrow April will have arrived. That means that I'm one month from this semester being over, one month closer to graduation (Dec), super close to my first real apartment in 3 years, and pretty close to the start of camp. For the record, I am excited about camp, but the anxiety about writing sermons is slightly winning that battle for now.

This has been a difficult semester just based on my work-load and time commitments. I decided last week that I needed to be more intentional about spending time with people. I have some great friends who give me grace and space when I need it - usually grace more than space, but who's counting?

Easter Sunday was a turn around day for me. I decided that life needed to be different and so I resolved to work extra hard over the weekend to finish all my work so I could spend time with people all day. I began the day at the hospital, holding the pager for the on-call chaplain as she wanted to be free to do the chapel services without interruption since it was such an important day. That morning I got a page to visit a patient who was a retired minister. I spent quite awhile with him, listening to the story of his life – mostly about his call to ministry, and the various places God had taken him. His journey resonated with me – how still at his age (77) he was still searching, still looking, still trying to connect. We prayed together before I left. For a short second, I could feel the presence of God…kind of like I did when I was a kid. In case you are wondering, the presence of God feels like goose bumps.

I then went to a potluck dinner with some old friends. I met some new friends and I reconnected with my old roommate from college. After the dinner, and a walk around Lake Lynn, I went straight to church. We had an Easter sunset service. I felt so connected to this small congregation as we sat out by a lake on the campus of Meredith listening to the Easter story from the gospel of John. I had the sense that this is how the story was told long before it was ever written down - with people sitting in a circle next to a body of water. I decided while out there that I am going to officially join – whatever that means for this congregation. It’s not a traditional thing, so thankfully there’s no aisle to walk down (I think I’ve walked down enough aisles in my life by now).

New life is everywhere. We just have to look for it. Feel it. Hear it. Choose it.

good for the soul

I need a ritual.
I need a rip me up.
I need a do over.
I need a fill my cup.

I need more over here.
I need more light to feel.
I need more friction, move.
I need melancholy.

I need to confess wrong.
I need to feel the grace.
I need to confess right.
I need satisfaction.

ashes

Ash Wednesday inaugurates the season of Lent in the Christian calendar. The imposition of ashes on one's forehead is a bold statement of one's faith, possibly even more bold than a WWJD bracelet.

I was raised in a tradition that didn't celebrate Ashes or Lent for that matter. Easter was the only important sacred day in the spring, with St. Patrick's day as a close second. I've never had a minister remind me that "you are dust, and unto dust you shall return." The only smudges I've had on my forehead were self-inflicted and usually involved a marker.

Tonight, without every receiving the ashes, I had the opportunity to impose them on others. I went with Jared, a fellow CPE intern, to the Rehab floor to have an Ash Wednesday service with a patient who was not able to make it to one of the hospital wide services. When we arrived at the floor we found out that there was about 15 patients who wanted ashes, but could not leave their rooms. Neither Jared nor myself had ever done this kind of service.

We decided to split the task in half. I would do the short litany and Jared would actually impose the ashes. It was a humbling and overwhelming experience to confess my own humanity and mortality time after time, with sick person after sick person.

I realized that I wasn't telling them anything they didn't already know. They're sick...they're broken...the monitors, nurses, and tests are a constant reminder of their condition. At best I think I was reminding myself about myself and my own condition.

We found community in that space- in remembering that we are all broken. But maybe even more so in remembering the life and the grace we experience through faith. Or something like that.

I left hopeful, ready to begin the journey towards Easter.

saints and angels and the other

Yesterday I found myself in the presence of a true modern day saint. Mama Mary was visiting from South Africa. I met her when I was there in December 2005. Her smile welcomes everyone and anyone into her presence. I sat next to her on the couch and she began to tell me the stories of the new projects going on and updated me on the lives of some of the children my team had worked with. I got very few words in during our visit. Mama Mary is a teacher, and yesterday I was her student. She reminded me that when we greet someone with an embrace, we are welcoming their angel into our house.

Since the beginning of the year, my life has been going on a crazy pace. Classes, my internship with BSU, and CPE at WakeMed have consumed almost every day. I have been physically and emotionally drained. The door to my apartment has been shut more often than not. I've had to put friends and family on hold so that I could get all my work done. In th process of letting myself get so busy, I think I've missed a few angels along the way. So I'm looking forward to a less crazy life in February.

This week I'm heading to Atlanta to attend the New Baptist Celebration. I'm excited to go, but I wouldn't describe myself as "fired up" as was described in this week's Sunday edition of the News and Observer. I'm sure I'll have something interesting to say after this experience.

For more information about Mama Mary and the work she does in Mabopane, South Africa check out the Mabopane Foundation.

2008 so far

I brought in the new year at Carolina Beach with some old AppState friends. We had a great, relaxing time as most of the long weekend was spent in pajamas and that's always a good thing. In case you were wondering, yes...Carolina Beach does sponsor its very own ball drop. Of course it's off of a fire truck ladder, but wonderful nonetheless.

Day 2 was spent traveling back to Raleigh and recovering from the weekend. Not that I needed that much recovery, but I did miss my couch.

I spent most of Day 3 shadowing an on-call chaplain at WakeMed in preparation for my internship this upcoming semester. This was pretty overwhelming, but at the same time it felt so right to be there. I'm very excited about what I will learn this semester.

Day 4 was spent traveling home to change cars with my Dad. I've got my old Jeep back (my dad has been driving it since May). My Jeep is much older than the car that I have been driving, but I missed it. It feels good to be up high again. It does not feel good to spend $40 on gas.

And that's all I got so far.

Photo taken by Megan

It takes no time to fall in love...but it takes years to know what love is

The title to this entry and the one posted on December 6th come from a song written by Jason Mraz. In this particular song, he reminds the listener that "Life is Wonderful." Thank you to my friend who introduced me to this artist.

I've been thinking about love a lot lately. This could be due to two external factors. The first is that in an effort to put together some last minute Christmas presents for some folks back home I've been raiding the $1.00 section at Target, and they've already got Valentine's Day stuff out. Secondly, this past week I've been driving long distances at night and the Christmas music station is hosted by Delilah. So in between "Here Comes Santa Clause" and "Let There Be Peace on Earth" the listener has to listen to some stories about love and relationships.

I never feel more "single" than when I at home at the large family gatherings. With Christmas rapidily approaching, I dread the questions and the looks. I'm now the only cousin over 18 on my father's side who is not married. My grandmother told me that she just wants to see me get married before she dies.

Well grandma, I've been busy. And I've got stuff that I want to do before I even begin to think about married life.

Oh yea and I am not good at love and I am not good at relationships. Trust issues? Sure. I am not consistent. One time it took me two years to acknowledge the love I felt for my friend. One time it took me four dates. Both times didn't turn out so well.

I wonder what song Delilah would play for my story.

But I've learned a lot. I do think I'm getting a better handle on what it means to love. Maybe more so on what it means to be loved. To live in it. To let the trust issues go. To relax and exhale.

To let yourself fall just a little bit.

The best reason why the writers need to come off the strike

I came across this for the first time tonight when I couldn't sleep. Thank you Scrubs. Enjoy :)