Whistle while you work

People amaze me. And sometimes even in a good way!

Our church is relocating this week. Yep, it's busy. There is much to be done. Lots to be thought through. Plans to be made. Boxes to be hefted. Paint to be rolled. Organizing to do.

I have been through situations like this before. The personalities are generally the same. Some dive in, some hold back, some encourage, some find fault. The job gets done and we generally learn more about each other from a week of working side by side than we would in year of light foyer conversation .

What I DO find unusual is when someone surprises me with extreme dedication to a project.

Such an individual is working on this relocation and has been there nearly every time I have shown up at the new space. When I get there, he has already done the job I planned to start! He is gleeful when I think up something new for him to do and changes his plans in order to accommodate the new task. I made a "to do" list today and had to ask him to leave some things undone so that others could have the satisfaction of helping. He grinned sheepishly, understanding that his joyfulness about this project is something to share with other excited folks. (Then he hoisted up a heavy load from the back of my car and carried it inside.)

I hope at some point in this project I will be able to communicate to him what an encouragement his behavior is to me. I don't know his motives and I don't need to. I live in a world where, so much of the time, people are focused on themselves and how life feels to them. Seeking to be served rather than serve.

It is refreshing to be around someone who is getting such a visible reward from the act being available and using his skills in this way. It is clear that he loves these people and is joyfully seeking to serve. There will be little reward for this work, other than my exuberant thanks and the satisfaction of having done it. There will be no awards ceremony for who put in the most work, the best paint job or the strongest back.

Clearly this wise individual realizes that the reward comes from the the joy that blooms in the deepened relationships and the encouragement that is shared between tired people with paint in their hair.

173rd and Walker

My first vivid memory of Ron Stump was he and my Dad standing around our dining room table looking at the giant roll of blueish floor plans for a new Westside church building at 173rd and Walker. Property had been purchased and we were ready to break ground. Ron and Kay Stump had just taken a job at Westside and moved down from Canada and this was the first time they were in our home. It was 1985 and Ron was 38 and my Dad was 40, the ages of Josh and I now.

Westside Church of Christ had been meeting at a building on Butner road which we had outgrown and sold to a Korean church. My family had been there since 1976. We worshiped at Meadow Park Jr. High for almost 2 years until the new building was finished.

Those were formative years for me. I watched my parents participate in the leadership of a church on the move. My parents moved to a larger house to accommodate church Christmas parties and large family groups so we could continue to meet together with our "homeless" church community. I watched people work together on plans for the new building, fight about what color the bathroom stalls should be and whether it should be a "multi purpose" building or a traditional sanctuary. It was an exciting time for Westside, often tense and embattled but we had a goal and were doing our best to go where God was sending us.

I was there on the inaugural Sunday of that building. I taught aerobics classes there and stayed late to hang out with that skinny Stump kid after basketball. He and I led the youth group and hosted many lock ins and events. I listened to hundreds of sermons from Rudy Morrow and Tim Woodruff. Ron Stump listened to hours of my railing about the injustices of the world in his office with that ugly couch. I married that skinny Stump kid there on May 15, 1993 and the walnut trees feature prominently in our wedding photos.

When we moved back to town a decade later, I brought my 6 month old baby Gibson back there and spent many Tuesday mornings helping to lead a MOPS group in the fellowship area. 7 year old Griffin has never been a member anywhere else. I sang "Carry Me", a song Josh wrote to inspire the struggling, many Sundays while watching my dear Ron Stump grow weaker and in more need of God's carrying arms. I sat through Ron's funeral at 173rd and Walker. It was filled to the corners with people he had touched over the years. A multi-purpose building with blue bathroom stalls, used for so many years by a loving yet sometimes battling community. A family.

Now we are leaving that building behind. We've sold to another Korean church. Once again we are a "church that moves". This will be my fourth Westside Church location and I am looking forward to what God has in store for us. I am admittedly a little melancholy to leave. So much of my life unfolded there and my years there really shaped who I am.

But we follow God and he has made a new place for us. I am excited about the possibilities and opportunities he has placed before Westside. He has long provided for us, inspired us, grieved with us, nudged us and loved us.

We are saved by God, sent by God and led by God.....and there is work to be done.

Ophelia

I am concerned about the girls in our society. How can they grow up in a culture that so pervasively devalues them and still feel precious and nurtured. How can they remain true to themselves and focus on who they are inside and the miracles that happen inside their minds when the world is so focused on their outward beauty. How do we teach girls to remain authentic and not separate into a distinct true self and false self in order to gain approval?

There is much to read on the topic. I am re-reading "Reviving Ophelia" right now and it is rich and insightful and it interrupts my sleep. It is amazing how much differently these words impact me now that I am 40 than they did at 24 during my first read. Back then it was about me, now it is about them.

I have boys now, future men and husbands and fathers. I pray for the women that will enter their lives and shape them. I pray for the impact my sons will have on the tender 10 year old girls they sit next to in class and the professional women they will eventually work alongside. I pray that they will be respecters of their female counterparts. Champions who encourage the females in their lives to shine as brightly as possible and never, for one minute, believe they are anything but equally valued creations.

Marianne Williamson's words have really been speaking to me for the past couple of weeks.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

I guess I'd better get out there and shine my light.

Style Crone

I am hung up. I have developed an unusual attachment to a beautiful blog. (stylecrone.com) It is written by a 67 year old woman named Judith. My path to her was circuitous as I am always inclined to seek contact with people who are willing to step off the common path and seek a more curious and colorful direction.

She wears a hat every day, has a room dedicated to her collection and artfully combines estate sale finds and other eclectic clothing into a wearable work of art on a daily basis. I began reading her blog every day because I was so inspired by her inclination to enrich the lives of people around her with her whimsical clothing ensembles.

Then I read about Nelson. Nelson is her husband of many years. He is an avid rower; teaches classes at the local gym and has a significant following of students who are attracted not only to his rowing accomplishment but his deeply spiritual nature. Nelson also has cancer.

Judith, the Style Crone, photographs her outfit every day and talks about what she has put together and what it means to her. It is impossible for her to avoid comments about her beloved Nelson. He is interwoven into her life. The warp to her weft. She speaks of him with poetic words of love and dedication.

For six months now I have been moved nearly every day by her openness and grace as she allows readers to journey alongside she and Nelson through the emotional ups and downs of chemo and oncology appointments. We have also journeyed with them as they continue a beautiful love story of dedication; creative demonstrations of devoted love and loss.

I am continually amazed at how candidly and openly this grieving woman is able to communicate her feelings on a daily basis. She is attached to her emotions and is using her blog as a means of walking through them, of continuing to feel them and not wall them off.

This is one of the most healthy demonstrations of self care I have seen. It has made me wonder about my own methods. What do I do to intentionally remain balanced and connected to my emotions when things are difficult? If Judith is unable to care for herself and remain centered, how could she possibly provide such support and care for dear Nelson?

It is a beautiful love story. A stunningly open and graceful account of how two people have devoted themselves to each other and continue to be present, living every second of life.

I am wearing a hat right now. A beautiful black fedora. It makes me think of Judith and the lessons she teaches me every day about living and loving well and the beauty that is created from it.

Emerging

I saw life today.

My favorite two year old neighbor, adorably red headed, came over to play with us in our driveway today. Helping her climb up on a rock, I crouched down and I saw it. Someone, (probably the same adorable girl) had very carefully stacked a pile of large rocks inside a bamboo tripod designed to stabilize a beautiful and treasured peony.

Amidst that pile of large rocks were eight, fragile peony buds; forcing their way out from under the weight and growing sideways! Now that is power and determination! They had fought their way to the surface, in spite of the heavy burden that would hold them down. Stunning perseverance, surfacing and ready to blossom.

Just as our Creator designed. Our lives emerge in a beautiful, unstoppable, miracle, no matter the weight on the surface.

What a timely and powerful reminder today while holding the hand of a sweet little girl.

lemonade

Maya Angelou said: "People will forget what you did, they will forget what you said, but they'll never forget how you made them feel.

I would so love to sit on a porch and drink lemonade with Maya Angelou. I love the way she treasures relationships and values people.

If only we dedicated more care and effort to how we make people feel.