Thank-you

 I knew you for only a short time.

    Despite the time, you were dear to me.

    I didn’t really get to say good-bye.

    People tell me it’s better that way

    That way, I never saw you in pain.

    But you encouraged me not shy away from pain

    So I don’t really know what to think of that.

    But I do know that I’m thankful for you

    And that I’m grateful to you.

    I didn’t get to say good-bye

    But maybe there’s still time for thank-you.

    So.

    Thank-you.

    Thank-you for welcoming me.

    Thank-you for recognizing me.

    Thank-you for your insight.

    Thank-you for the trivial conversations.

    Thank-you for all the times you made me angry.

    Thank-you for your support.

    Thank-you for your openness.

    Thank-you for snapping.

    Thank-you for apologizing.

    Thank-you for laughing.

    Thank-you for crying.

    Thank-you for breathing.

    Thank-you for living.

Let's Look at One Another!

I sat in a hard plastic chair. Laying open in my lap wass a copy of Our Town. But I wasn't really reading along anymore. My eyes are held captive by the 70-90 year olds reading it out loud in front of us. They sit in a row, mirroring the young’ns, none of us any older than 25. The 95 old woman reads, “Living people don’t understand much, do they?” She paused and silently scanned her eyes across the row of youth. As much as my friends find it humorous when I tell this story, at that moment, I didn’t find it funny. I think I understand. But then again, do I really? It’s a question worth asking. It’s a question worth praying over. It’s a question worth pondering on. At least I’m trying to understand. God knows I’m trying to understand ma’m.

                I lay on the Webb’s bench offstage. I wasn’t going on for awhile. I could rest. Imagine that.“This play is called Our Town” the Stage Manager says. I sigh in contentment. Everything about this show, and my life in general felt rushed. But not right now. In the time being, I could relish in the moment.

There wasn’t anything spectacular about it. I watched my friend pace back and forth as he spouted out his lines. I just listened. He finally sat down, and I sat down next to him. He must have gone through his monologue at least three times, in a row, sometimes without my cuing line. We sat, and stared off together. Like I said, there was nothing spectacular about it… it was just a moment with a friend that for once didn’t seem to be moving too fast.

I could hear the clicking of my heels echo throughout the hall. It was quiet. The lights reflection caused double in the mirror. As I looked over the balcony I felt surrounded by light. Outside was so dark. From far off though, I could still see the lights on in Walton. Everything was around me was still. Everything around me was light. It was beautiful. From below I heard, “This is…geographically where Emily is when she says her good-byes.” I looked out at my college home that in a few months, I knew I would also be saying good-bye to. Suddenly I understood Emily just a little bit more.

                I was exhausted. I was nervous. I was really ready for this weekend to be over. Act III lay in front of me and all I wanted was to go sleep. My mind rushed through lines. The list of homework I could be doing grew and grew. The problems I had were swirling in my brain. My heart was pounding. I tried to take a deep breath, which is difficult in a corset. Then there was the cue of thunder. I looked up to black umbrellas opening around me and a blue light shining down on us. For a play about treasuring life’s “little” moments, it’s so easy how life distracted me from it.

That night, my stomach was in knots. And it wasn’t the corset. It was my nerves. I couldn’t eat. I wasn’t visibly shaking but I felt like I was. My nerves had not been this bad since I was a Stage Manager. Despite my nervousness, the hugs in the hall, grasped hands, thumbs up, shoulder pats, and kind words carried me through the night. Every action and word was paired with a face and a name that I hope I never forget. I know for sure that I will be forever grateful for them.

We sat on the stage, in full costume and make-up. I sat on a chair, lightly touching flower petals of my boquet. Once again we sat across from the senior citizens who had inspired us months prior. They asked us questions and made comments that sent us into roaring laughter. Despite our ages, we had remarkable common ground. It’s amazing how stories bring people together.

Blank

Blank pages sit in front of me.

Blank pages waiting to be filled.

Blank pages inviting experience and insights.

Blank pages shouting,

"Go live so that you can write!"

Searching and Seeing

I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again. I’m searching for you. It’s not that you’re nowhere to be found, you’re just harder to find than usual. When I hear from you, it’s like getting a letter, or a text, or (if I’m lucky) a phone call, but it’s not like you’re right next to me like it used to be. I don’t want to believe that’s part of growing up. I don’t want to believe that growing up means growing distant. So I’m trying to find you. I’ve been looking in books, old journals, talks with friends, movies, music…and I can’t seem to find you anywhere.

                For awhile it seemed to be getting better. The Christmas season began. With every twinkling light and with every whiff of peppermint, my soul was subtly reminded of you. I was reminded of your joy. I was reminded that those who searched for you did find you. I was reminded of the events that set the stage for your arrival.

                To be honest, I was a little jealous at first. Mary beheld Gabriel. Joseph had a clear dream. Elizabeth birthed a miracle. The innkeeper observed a desperate need. The wise men witnessed a celestial sign. The Shepherds were covered with angel’s light. You were so evident. You made yourself so clear. It’s not always that easy to find you and I feel like this story almost…leads me on.

                Things happen and it’s really hard to see you. It was hard to see you when friendships got weird. It became even harder to see when cancer returned. Then it became more difficult with the anxiety of finals. And then a man opened fire on children and I can’t seem to see you anywhere. I’ve learned to have faith that you’re there without seeing that you’re there and cling to that for all its worth…but I’m afraid I may lose my grip soon. And to be honest, I get really confused why you’re so silent when your entry into the world was anything but silent.

                But then again…it wasn't that simple, was it? One dream and one angel visit probably didn’t continually bring Mary and Joseph comfort when they were looked down upon by society. Elizabeth’s high-priest husband was mute for nine months because he argued with an angel. The innkeeper had to worry about the potential death of a newborn and mother. The wise men had to depend on the ever-changing sky. The Shepherds were probably scoffed at and quickly silenced. Mary and Joseph had to flee to Egypt for years. Herod ordered a massacre. It’s not always that easy to find you.

                But just because it isn’t easy to find you doesn’t mean that you are not there. In fact, it could mean that you are very, very present. 

Christ By Highest Heaven Adored

            Gabriel looked around the smelly, moist, noisy cave. He chuckled and shook his head. As he observed the surroundings he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see fellow angel Andrew standing there, smiling.

            “Not quite what they expected, is it?” Andrew laughed.

            “Certainly not. Not even what I would have expected for the King!”

            “What do you expect, as humble as He is?”

            “I know…I know.”

            “This does not change His kingship…it actually displays the heart of His kingship.”

Christ by highest heaven adored, Christ the everlasting Lord.

            The cry of the baby king echoed through the cave. Gabriel and Andrew turned quickly, grabbing the sheath of their sword. Gabriel felt a sigh of relief escape him as he saw that the fleshly, tiny, weak King Jesus was just fussing after being positioned differently in his mother’s arms. Now it was Andrew who was shaking his head.

            “He’s a baby. I still have a hard time grasping that He’s a baby. And then, as if Jesus being born to anybody was not strange already, He’s born to a virgin.”

            Gabriel let out a loud laugh.

            “Yes, it is quite the mystery.”

            “By the way, how did she take the news?”

            “It went a lot better than telling Zecheriah about John, I’ll tell you that much. See…she knew who sent me, and she respects Him and His word. She was puzzled of course, but she was willing to accept the mystery and embrace the incompresenbility of what was being said to her. “

Late in time, behold Him come. Offspring of the virgin’s womb.

            Andrew and Gabriel shared a chuckle. Gabriel slowly cocked his head as he looked at baby Jesus. Baby Jesus. Baby. He was loud, messy after just being born, wrapped in clothes meant to be burial cloths, dependent, weak, and tired. As Gabriel gazed at the baby, he could not help but picture the Jesus He knew. High, exalted, glorious, magnificent, beautiful and perfect. Who Gabriel was looking at was not the Jesus Gabriel was used to seeing at all. And yet, here He was. God, in the flesh. Not only in the flesh, but an infant.

Veiled in flesh, the God-head see.

            “Oh! Here they come!” Andrew whispered.

            “Good! I’m glad they got here…they were terrified.”

            “And despite their fear…they still came.”

            A dirty, smelly shepherd approach the mouth of the cave. Mary saw him and drew Jesus in closer to her. With a look of newfound father instinct, Joseph stood up and confronted the shepherd.

            “You need to leave.”

            “No! Please, let us explain!”

            “Us?!”

            Joseph looked behind the first shepherd and saw a group of at least ten more. Joseph sighed in frustration,

            “Please. My wife just gave birth to my son-“

            “Did you dress him in swaddling cloths?”

            Dumbfounded, Joseph moved his head back slightly

            “Yes…yes, those were the only clothes we had. I suppose we should have been more prepared…but…wait… how did you…?”

            Gabriel and Andrew smiled at each other.

            With a grin, the shepherd replied,

            “Like I said, let us explain. You see, we were watching our sheep when…”

            Gabriel and Andrew laughed loud and long as the shepherds attempted to explain what they had seen. Not because of the way the shepherds retold the story, but because of the joy of the magnificent story that they were seeing unfold.

            “Please…let us see this thing that has happened, that the Lord has told us about!”

            With mouth agape and eyes wide, Joseph turned his head to look at his wife. She had heard the whole thing. She returned his look with a look of equal amazement, and nodded. Joseph turned back to the shepherds, silently nodded and guided the shepherds into the cave. Mary placed Jesus in the manger so everyone could see Him.

            The shepherds crowded around the newborn King. A silent, reverent hush came over them. Reverent…of a child. Tears welled up in the eyes of some of the older shepherds. One older shepherd voiced,

            “We’ve been waiting…for so long!”

Hail the incarnate deity!

Joseph affectionately touched Mary’s shoulder and she smiled up at him.

            Gabriel now turned his attention from the King to the ones that He had chosen to live among. Jesus had lived with glorious celestial beings up to this point…and now because of His love for THESE, creatures that had been made in His image…He had come down as one of them. He who had created them now had to be cared for by them. Those who would have not existed without Him dreaming them in His heart, He was dependent upon. He loved them so much. He saw so much potential in them. He had such great and lofty plans for them. He cared about them so much, that He wanted to be able to relate to them. He wanted to live with them.

Pleased as man with man to dwell, Jesus our Emmanuel.

            Gabriel’s vision blurred. He closed his eyes and tears trickled down his cheeks. He smiled and whispered,

            “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty…Glory to my King…to the newborn King. Glory to the newborn King!”

Hark! The herald angel sings, Glory to the newborn King!

            After what seemed like hours, Gabriel was able to open His eyes, despite the glorious light. He was not in the cave in Bethlehem anymore. He was now facing another kind of cave. In a garden. A cave that moments earlier had served as a grave. It was no longer an effective grave…for the stone had been rolled away and its inhabitant stood before the grave, alive, glorious and well.

Hail the heav’n born Prince of Peace! Hail the Son of Righteousness!

            Gabriel stood completely still. Jesus was alive. First He had been born. Then He had grown. Then He had died. Now He lived again. And He was standing right in front of Gabriel, in all of His resurrection glory. The light that shone from Him was far more radiant than the light than all the angels had shown when they appeared to the shepherds.

Light and life to all He brings,

            Jesus smiled at Gabriel. He reached down to His belt and unlatched a set of keys. Gabriel’s mouth dropped open. Jesus held them up. The keys of Death and Hades. With a grin of triumph and confidence, He jingled them.

Risen with healing in His wings!

            The memories of the past 33 years in addition to the majesty of the present moment was overwhelming to Gabriel. For the last 33 years there had been nothing to attract people to Him…now He was the most beautiful, glorious being on the planet.

Mild He lays His glory by!

            Jesus approached Gabriel. As tears had come at the birth of Jesus, so they came again to Gabriel as the resurrected Christ approached Him. Jesus placed His hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. His eyes twinkled as He smiled. He began to chuckle. Then He broke into a loud laugh. He threw His arms around Gabriel and embraced Him. The tears streamed down Gabriel’s face. His King was not dead anymore. Jesus let go of Gabriel and held him at arms length. He smiled at Gabriel, and patted His shoulders. Jesus leaned forward with a look of mischief on His face.

            “The women will be here soon…I want to surprise them!”

            Gabriel took a moment to look at Him. Even after all the time spent with Him, Gabriel knew He would never totally understand Him.

“I don’t think you have to plan that out.”

            Jesus let out a single, loud glorious laugh and turned to leave. He had come to give people hope. He had died and they had been filled with despair. Now He was alive, and it was time to start letting them know that death did not have to be an option anymore. It was the reason He had come to begin with.

Born that man no more may die! Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth!

            Gabriel watched his master walk into the garden. He took a deep breath, contemplating what was to come and the amazement of the event that had just occurred and would last into eternity. He shook His head

            “To Him be all glory and honor…to the Firstborn from the Dead.”

Hark! The herald angel sings! Glory to the newborn King!

Christmastime is Here

             So many searched for Him. The magi, the shepherds, King Herod. Christmas is seeking Jesus. It’s seeking the fulfillment of long forgotten promises. It’s the glimmer of hope for downcast hearts. It’s the answer that no one was expecting.

            I’m still seeking. I still feel like so many of my hopes and dreams were crushed. I still feel unheard. I still feel like I’m lost. I still feel disappointed. I still feel confused. I feel like I have more questions than when I began. I still feel like I’m waiting for answers.

            However, there’s something in the Christmas lights that softly glow on my street. In the hymns singing of yearning. In the aroma of peppermint, hot chocolate or cookies. In the sound of crinkling wrapping paper. In the laughter ringing. In Scrooge’s redemption. A reminder.

            It’s a reminder that promises were fulfilled. That there are things to treasure in our hearts. That when things are not as they seem, it's not always a bad thing. That God resurrects hopes and dreams. That we are heard. That there will always be a light to lead us. That there is a cause for celebration. That just because things don’t make sense doesn’t mean He’s not up to something. That questions are often followed by declarations. That He does come.

            That there is hope.

Digging for Worms

      She handed me a woodchip. I looked down at my 2 year old student and took the woodchip from her, slightly confused. She plopped her adorable, chunky self down on the ground, pointed at a spot in the dirt, looked up at me and said, “Worm?” I chuckled. The day before we had found a worm, and apparently 20 minutes of taking turns holding said worm wasn’t enough time at all. I shrugged and went to digging. I knew the chances were slim, but I went ahead anyway. I told her, “The worm might be on vacation so we’ll dig for a little while but if he’s not home we’re going to stop ok?” She nodded. We dug for 5-10 minutes. Nothing. I told her, “Sorry, Mr.Worm went on vacation.” I put the dirt back in the hole and went to another part of the playground. 5 minutes later there was a little tap on my thigh. I looked down. There she was again…holding a woodchip. “Worm.” 

     This went on throughout the ENTIRE SUMMER.

            Relentlessly this child would ask me to find her a worm. I mean, I know that kids like bugs, but SERIOUSLY? After digging for 5-10 minutes, every time, we wouldn’t find a worm. And the cycle would begin again moments later.

            I kept digging for two reasons. One….because…I mean, not digging for a worm at a two year old’s request seems like a mean thing to do. Secondly…I couldn’t help but notice the faith she had. And it was fascinating to me. She never once thought that maybe the worm wouldn’t show up again. I was in a really rough patch in my spiritual life and it was encouraging to see a picture of faith in this little girl. It made me think of my own faith, which at the time felt so weak.

            Then we came to my last day at work. As we dug for a worm, I silently prayed, “Hey. Jesus. I think it would be really cool if you could help us find a worm.” I chuckled to myself and half joking, half serious silently said, “In the name of Jesus, we will find a worm.”

            We didn’t find a worm right then. But I walked to another area of the playground. I had been with a different class the other day and we had actually seen a worm there. So, maybe there would be one there. I moved around some dirt. Didn’t do any digging. Just moved some dirt around. And low and behold….there was a worm.

            God rewards faith that He’ll provide and earthworm, just like He rewards faith in anything else. I know it sounds cliché, and I don’t know, maybe it is. But it was a nice little reminder that He really, really, REALLY does hear us. He really does recognize any amount of faith we have. He really is overjoyed by our faith.

            Oh, one last thing that I learned from that little girl.

            When she received what she faithfully believed she would find…

            She wouldn’t let go.