Small

I am small. This is not some sort of self-bashing. This is a fact of creation. God is very big. The universe somewhat smaller and that is pretty big so comparatively I am small. I am however, larger than my friend Bunsen’s 3dz2 orbital density plot (a plot of electrons).
I like being small compared to God though. I thank God that I do not have to worry about planets and their rotations or how life lays dormant in a seed. Being small means I don’t have to go it alone. I can hang around with other small people and let God be God.

Being small allows me, for example, in a theological debate to see that at the beginning of the debate is another small person who desperately wants to bring glory to our great big God. The debate itself indicates there are many small people who want to get it right (knowing what is right to God is possibly not within our reach but we debate in order to get as close to right as we can). And while the debate and my study goes on so that I too might get closer to right, I figure that if God calls into use this small cracked pot to deliver his message then it is probably close enough to right for his purposes at that time.

Graduated!!

No I have not graduated from college yet. My glasses have graduated before I have. While I am tremendously happy to be able to see when I sit at the computer or read and with a nod of my head be able to see out the window into the distance at the same time, the adjustment has not been without struggle. I am embarrassed to say I was car sick the first day and not even in a car. As the weekend progressed, I got the knack of the nod and even was able to lead worship without too much difficulty. The problem now is restricting the nod to vision purposes and not nod too often when in agreement otherwise I simply agree with you but may not be able to see you or your point.

Visual

Happy New Year. Wow, I have lost track of time. I meant to blog long before now. I resolve to do better this year.

A few weeks ago, we played a Playstation 2, Eye toy game. Mirrors is a simple game that requires you to touch the spots in the corners of the television screen. The eye toy is a camera that puts your image on the screen so you see yourself touching the spots. But then the screen turns like a mirror from left to right. Your image on the screen is now like a mirror and in order to touch the spots on the left you raise your right hand. Then the image turns upside down. Now you move your hand down to touch the spots on the top of the screen. Of course the spots are really at the bottom of the image that you see (you see yourself upside down with spots by your legs) so moving down is logical. However, the spots are at the top of the screen so moving up seems to also be logical. The screen also turns you upside down and mirrored left to right.

I knew before this game that I am a visual learner. So I found this game more difficult than my husband who is a logical person. I had to consciously override the signal that my eyes sent to the brain that said the spots are at the top of the screen as opposed to the bottom of the image.

At times to override what I saw, I had to move my body to the left or right and fool my brain into thinking I was responding so that the correct motion could be made. Otherwise, at times I simply could not move my hands because of the conflicting signals.

I was reminded of how difficult Faith can be. Hebrews 11:1 (NRSV) Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Maybe the difficulty is not in the unseen but in the things we see that are in conflict with the unseen?

Still in use

So for all you that just had to know.....this is what a cracked pot looks like and how it works.

Why I can't take myself too seriously 1

Today, I received a lovely email from a friend (female). The email had a poem with pictures and at the bottom said, I just didn't want to miss the opportunity to tell you I love you. So I happily replied to the email, "I love you too" and a short update about my travel plans. Then I clicked send and to my horror (humor really) realized that I was sending my reply to the original sender of this forwarded poem (male). For some reason many of the emails I receive from this friend are forwarded as attachments which when I open seem to open the original email that she got. I am usually clever enough to close this email and reply directly to her. Not today.

So in heaps of giggles, I email her and explain and asked her to let the original sender know. She replied, "Oh, you make me laugh..." Which made me giggle more. Of course, in giggles had to call my husband at work and let him know how funny I thought this was.

Then received an email from the originator saying, "I am curious, I can't think of who you are...."

Which made me laugh more. I am such a goof. At any rate, there is not much chance that I will suffer from taking myself too seriously any time soon.

PS: It is not so bad as it sounds. I know the guy.

Moving sheep

I have heard people exclaim that getting their particular group to do something together is like herding cats. I think most people have witnessed the independence of cats and can relate to the potential difficulties. I have, however, experience with moving sheep and relate well to the Biblical phrase “the LORD is my shepherd” (Psalm 23:1).

I thought it appropriate to capture some of the memories of moving sheep.

I remember a few beautiful days, lovely weather and sheep that moved almost effortlessly from one pasture to the fresh pasture. But mostly, I remember, having to do a lot of running and some fancy footwork that would put the best dancer to shame. Of course, the object was to never have to run because that tended to scare the sheep. Moving sheep, always began as gently walking around on one side causing the sheep to graze in a particular direction. I remember this as the easy part. Then we got to the gate. Things got a little hairy at this point. The sheep would circle around but not go through the gate. At this point, Dad would take a bucket of grain and try to coax a “Lead”sheep through. This was often pointless, the “lead” sheep would go through with a few others and when the flock did not follow, they would return back through the gate. Occasionally, we used dogs to coax the sheep through the gate but Dad and probably Grampa before him thought that the end result of using the dogs was wild sheep. So the use of dogs seemed to be kept to a minimum. I can remember a few times, that we sort of carried sheep through the gate one at a time until there was a critical mass on the other side of the gate the encouraged the rest through. I remember a few times, all of a sudden the whole flock went through the gate for no apparent reason after having been at a stand still for some time.

This was not always in the lovely weather. Many times it was cold. Occasionally, we used horse and riders. But most of it was on foot and why not we were kids. A couple of times, an old ewe would bolt back and hit you dead on. It not only knocked a kid over it knocked the wind out of you. It took minutes to be able to breathe again and you had to get right back up. It was better to be knocked over than run over so you didn’t want to be lying on the ground.

Moving ewes that had lambs created additional challenges. Why would a mother, of any sort, leave her lamb to go and look for the very lamb she left? Strange but true.

Green pastures never seemed to be a good enough motivation for sheep to go through the gate.

What I learned from herding sheep…
Be patient
Be patient
If you cannot be patient get help from someone who can be
Be creative
Don’t give up; it is in the best interest of the sheep to be in green pasture and after all you are there for the benefit of the flock as that is in the shepherd’s best interest as well (Circular argument).
And lastly be patient

PS: I asked my Dad for some of his sheep memories. He said herding sheep was staying with them 24/7. He has done this, I have not. I have only experienced “working” sheep and “moving” sheep. “Moving” being a short stint at herding about a day long. Dad commented that it was while herding that you really get to know the sheep and yourself.

The Garden

I have been meaning to post these thoughts for a while but wanted a photo of my back yard to post with it and up till today did not have such a photo. I love this view of the garden. There are tall trees and not so tall trees; if you look closely you will see dead trees. There are plants dying and there is new life shooting from the decay. There is bamboo that is not native next to the native gum. There are all colors, shapes and sizes. There are a few weeds but remember a weed is just a plant out of place. There are a few plants stifled and crowded. There are plants with plenty of room. Some plants don’t get much sunshine and wish they did and there are plants in the shade that love it there. There are trees that are very old and there are the very young. There is a small creek. There are birds and snakes, frogs and lizards, probably stray cats as well. There is diversity. There is a small group of dedicated, loving people that remove the plants that would kill the garden. In the daylight, the garden is a beautiful, safe place for people to stroll and enjoy but in the dark, the garden can attract people who have less than honorable intentions. It is the garden that I enjoy being in and looking upon. It is all there in the garden; the place that God designed.

Briar Creek Retreat

Briar Creek Retreat is a thing, event, place that does not exist; at least not yet. It is a dream (which I believe God inspired) for a retreat centre for ministers. A couple we know have tried to send their minister and family on retreat only to find the cost of the retreat centers prohibiting. They also found that these places had many activities that were part of the cost. They began to see the need for a place for ministers and families to go with little or no cost and simply have time to be, to relate with each other and to have control of activities or lack of activity. At this imaginary place, there will be cabins with names; a community breakfast, if you want; a lake; walks; a garden and nearby a town with concerts; boating, fishing, etc. Will it be real? I think so. I see the need for such a place and am supportive of the dream. Right now, it is at the trust God for the funding stage. I believe in about 4 -5 years this place will be real and Mal and I will be sitting by the lake with my Dad, maybe with siblings, children and grandchildren. Care to join me?

"I killed a bird with two stones"*

Sometimes we all miss our mark. Two birds with one stone is a special event and perhaps even one bird with one stone. But I think many times to get to what we are aiming at we need to “throw” several “stones”. I believe that it is okay to keep trying to achieve good goals. The idea would be to make sure the bird that we are aiming at is truly the one we want. After that, fire away. Otherwise, you simply join the ranks of people who throw stones.

*Mia, 2 September 2007

Stormy Weather

When it rains, it pours. I take that back – not always. Often in my life there have been gentle rains. Rains that I are not so messy, rains that I have walked through with my children, where there have been puddles to jump into for fun. But other times, it doesn’t just rain; it pours. I have to say, that God has blessed me with what I am doing. It hasn’t been a cruise but busy enough and challenging enough to fill my time. I have seen things that should be done but have left them because they are not urgent and they are not my job. Had I picked up every job that I saw needing to be done, it would have been too much. I believe that God has blessed me with a real picture of ministry over the last three months. Then it pours. I realize that this is a season; only one week really. While the weather is chilly and blustery outside in Brisbane indeed, in my life, the weather is now calm until next week probably when I start work again.

Once in a lifetime

We often justify our expenses, our actions, our decisions by saying that they are "once in a lifetime". I think that phrase really is justification. The truth is that every moment of our lives is only once in a lifetime but we seldom treat them as such. I believe that we need to stop chasing expensive "once in a lifetime" opportunities, stop justifying things as "once in a lifetime" and start paying attention to the moments. I'll stop preaching now!

When you don’t know what to blog

Well since this is a weekly journal and it has been a week, I need to blog something. I don’t know if it is because I am tired or because there is a holiday this week or because I have too much to say or not enough but I don’t know what to say so may just log a few random thoughts like:

Why do people never say what they mean or think? Me included. For example, instead of telling my daughter I am proud of her college/uni grades. I say great you’re catching up with me. I should probably just have said I am proud. (Hi Mia, I am proud of you!) That is just one of many examples that I have come across this week.

Why do you just get to the cruise stage of something then it changes? Yeah, yeah, “Rejoice in our sufferings knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope and hope does not put us to shame…” (Rom 5:3-5a ESV) But do we need to remain in that cycle so much of the time?

Why does time go so fast? I am halfway through my Guam time and I don’t want to be halfway a quarter way would be fine. I am just catching on, see the paragraph above. Of course the reverse applies, if it were not fulfilling and educational, time would probably be dragging. Age old modern question, huh?

Well this will have to be enough rambling. I feel like I am just being silly and killing time.

From humiliation to humility

Just over 5 years ago on Guam, I had to get some paperwork from the public health office. I remember this experience as humiliating. First of all, this is not a nice building, run down, and abused. I was ignorant of the reason that a healthy person with insurance would have to go to “public health”. I was very prideful because at the time, I was living well below the U.S. poverty level and had insurance and enough money, so it seemed an insult to me that I had to go hang out at public health with “real” poor people. I was concerned that I would be judged as in the same category as everyone else there. You know the stigma thing. Maybe, it wasn’t only pride, a bit of fear because my family and I were so close to being there in need.

As God would have it, I had to go back again for the same piece of paper. The original had been lost from my record. I hoped that public health would have the record and could copy it but no, I had to go through all interviews and steps in the process all over. However, this time I was not humiliated. I was humble. I sat with people in real need. The number of children out numbered adults. They were all patiently waiting there turn, no one complained. Most people even seemed grateful to have a place to turn to in their need. There was no stigma. I was there for what I was there for and everyone else was there for whatever they were there for. I was too caught up in myself to notice anyone else the first time.

I thank God for the opportunity to see how much I have grown by this sort of apple for apple comparison.

When the roll is called...

I don’t think about death too often; in fact, I can probably count the number times on one hand, but recently pondered death for a bit. I think it is a healthy thing to do as long as death is not the continuing thought. One should remember one’s mortality in order to appreciate life and live.

I thought of death when I enlisted into the Air Force Reserve. I was to enlist just before 9-11 but was held up by some paperwork, then after 9-11 had to think, we are at war, am I ready to do this and possibly die? I enlisted.

I thought of death when I was told that my tuberculosis skin test was positive. I know that people do not die from TB much anymore but I was just beginning life with Mal and didn’t want to think about death when life only seemed to be beginning.

I think of Mal dying once in a while. He is older than I am and the chance is he will die before me. I read in a marriage book that you should mourn the death of your partner together while you are both alive. That way you do not miss the opportunity to say, “I will miss you.”

But I thought of me dying this week. I was sitting in the clinic in a great deal of pain from an outer ear infection. I first was thinking of the purpose of pain; to signal to the brain that something is wrong. But as I thought, I decided that pain for many of us may need to be part of death. As I sat there in pain, I thought if God tapped me on the shoulder at that moment and said your time on earth is up, I would have readily gone. The pain would stop. I desired that. I know that God is not tapping but at the same time recognized I was ready and not afraid.

I am not sure that once the pain stops I will be able to say the same thing. Once life is pain free, I am not sure I will feel the same way about dying; I will not be ready to die, I will desire to live. So maybe I will need a bit of pain to encourage me to my eternal home. Maybe…

Fight or Flight

Today, I met with my supervisor at his office at the Bible College. I am in the Air Force Reserve and came straight from the base to his office so was still in uniform. It also meant that I was coming to the college from the opposite direction and when I got to about where I thought it was and didn’t see it, I stopped at a shop and asked a young man if he knew where the college was. He point just there. I was close so headed back to my car then he called to me. I stopped and he asked me, “Why do you want to go study Bible and go fight for our freedom?” I stopped dead in my tracks. I was late for my appointment so I gave him the easy answer, “I am just going there for a meeting.” But then I did not have long enough drive to campus to really give this deep thought so here it is on the blog. The truth is I don’t want to fight for freedom. I don’t want to fight period. This was probably not true when I enlisted, oh so many years ago. I have put too much time in to just give up the retirement benefits. And most of the time I enjoy my military work because I can do ministry and serve people where I am. I was told by my commanding officer that I have a certain ethic about me. Could it be….God? I believe so and the comment tells me that God is working there. Tough question, why study the Bible and fight for freedom? I feel called where I am so could say, “God told me to.” Or I could just say, “I have a meeting.

My Home?

“This world is not my home; I’m just a passing through...” All houses are temporary.

I have invited people to our house for dinner. Then I had to say, the Pastor’s house, but had to change that again because the house belongs to the church. I invited my friends to my temporary house to which the response came all houses are temporary.

I fully understand that I am in this lovely location in Guam for another 8 or so weeks but we have a townhouse in Brisbane, how long will I be there? A couple of years probably, Mal and I purchased it with the intention of staying forever. Even then, I knew that was not really true and just a figure of speech. Even when we bought the house I knew it was just for a time until God called.

Ever since we purchased, we thanked God for the home and prayed that God would use it for his purposes. But often I forget that it is God’s house. I wanted new floors, I was planning new floors for me. I hate the existing floors and was demanding new ones. God said, “It’s not your house.” Then, tiles began to fall off of the bathroom wall. I was devastated. Now, we have beautiful new bathrooms and fresh paint in the bedrooms and the same floors. Not my plan, I was happy with the bathrooms. But the result, I need to not plan so much and just let it be God’s house. God can plan and the results are beyond my dreams and better than what I would have done.

If God can do that with a house, what would happen if we gave him all our possessions? What would happen if we gave him our lives?

“My treasures are laid out somewhere beyond the blue. The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door and I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.”

A Cracked Pot

I was asked the other day why my blog is named “A cracked pot”. It was suggested that I put the explanation onto the blog. While at the time I thought it not necessary, I now feel moved to explain.

Probably about 15 years ago a very dear friend of mine was struggling. She complained that she wanted to be a vessel for God and that with so much happening in her life she didn’t feel like a usable vessel. Suddenly at that moment in the discussion, I believe God gave me a word for her, but it happened suddenly; I had the picture of a plate come into my mind. It was earthen, shallow vessel; a plate is the best way to describe it. As I explained what I saw, she began to be a bit excited. She was indeed a vessel for God and the description fit perfectly for where she was at the time. She asked how I saw myself and at that time I saw an earthen vase big and round on the bottom so that it would not tip easily. And it had a long narrow neck with a bit of a flare at top. Then we had some laughs as I told her about the crack that I felt ran down the side; a cracked pot.

The discussion has been memorable for both of us and usually when my friend and I converse the memory of that conversation and laughter about the “cracked pot” begins again. I believe the laughter is because we know that it is true. We cannot serve God whole and that his Spirit and strength flows like water through our wounds and cracks.

I feel moved to write this because again I recognized that I am cracked, not whole. I have always known this but this morning I felt it. I did not recognize the pressure that I was putting on myself till it popped. You see, I woke this morning with only two things on my mind; finishing my essay and writing a sermon. Pretty much, everything else was blocked out. I desperately wanted the assignment finished because that is the last bit that is hanging left from my past and I want it finished so that I can press on into the now. The now being a sermon for Sunday that has been rolling around in my head crying to get out.

Because I became so focused, I missed a finance meeting. I took time out to call my Dad because family is a priority then totally forgot the meeting and jumped into finishing the essay.

I know that my presence at the meeting was not imperative. I may miss another, the next one, because of the kindy’s Vacation Bible School. But I want people to know I support them and I wanted the opportunity to get to know people and their roles. But I blew it. Yup, I feel stupid. I know that it is not because there were expectations of people that I may have really let them down. It is because, my mistake was not taking the time to review the calendar, I let outside pressure control instead of relaxing and letting God worry about it all and doing what needed to be done.

I will probably make this mistake again in different ways and situations but I think I have learned to set aside time in the morning to look to God, listen and layout a schedule that will ease the pressure and meet all the requirements.

Well, I better finish so that I can check my calendar and finish my day better than I started. I think it is important how a person recovers and regroups after an attack of stupidity (a topic for another entry).

Oh yeah, I have the design for a cracked pot water feature for my yard if we ever come off water restrictions. I have already a great collection of you guessed it – cracked pots.

PS: I can't help but feel better the kids at the kindy are playing water games outside, it looks like great fun.

In Place

I am not in place yet. I have come to Guam moved into the manse (parsonage) and not started much ministry. I think that although it has been difficult not to just jump right in and get going that it is better this way. God has allowed my to exercise patience. Patience is a muscle that like all muscles requires exercise in order to be strong. The fact that I am here and not involved allows me time to see and listen and discern. I think that this is the first skill that field placement has taught me. Take your time and get to know what is going on, then jump in. I am looking forward to next week after I have taken the plunge.

Guarantee

As I see it, I have one guarantee; life eternal with my Lord. I write as a reflection on my daughter’s wedding to a wonderful man name John. During the day, I so enjoyed watching them smile. They are truly happy and seem to me to be well suited for each other. John’s best man commented that he has never seen the “well-balanced” (John’s Dad’s words) John so happy.

I wish that somehow I could promise them life long together. I do not wish them an easy life because I believe much character and strength and wisdom and hope (Rom ) is built through trials. But I do pray for them that it is a life-long marriage. But….I can’t guarantee that. Now that I think about it, I cannot even guarantee them long-life.

During the vows, I prayed that they would not suffer broken vows and divorce like I did. But I can’t guarantee.

I am aware that there were people at the wedding struggling from the recent results of broken marriage. I wish I could have guaranteed them a life-long marriage as I prayed for them at their wedding.

Not long after the beautiful wedding yesterday, I was notified of family members whose behavior was not in the least bit marriage strengthening for them. In fact, the behavior puts the marriage at risk. I can’t guarantee not even for my family.

The fault of course is sin. Sin, I define as separation from God. My marriage broke down when my ex-husband made choices that separated him from God. As a result, I guess I became closer to God; my response to trials that build endurance, character, and hope.

I cannot really comment on any other marriage break up but I reckon someone walked away from or never had God in most cases. I see marriage at risk when people step away from God.

It is so easy to do. Young couples, like I was and did, get married, get busy, have kids, life is good and going to worship becomes difficult. As the church attendance waned so did my connection with God. I turned back to God after time but my husband came and went and finally went permanently.

The guarantee was and ever will be God. My prayer for you Deb and John, and all people, is that you stick close to a church and to the people who will help you and pray for you and challenge you to connect and reconnect with God, your guarantee.

Amen.

Community

Well, this will be a busy week so thought that I would put some thoughts into a blog while I have time.

Today in worship, we prayed for Deb and John's wedding coming up on Saturday. And our minister read from the notices that the congregation was invited to attend and take part in the service that day. It struck me that this is how weddings are intended to be. They should be an experience of worshiping God. Not just the couple who are to wed but the entire congregation. I felt that people who have weddings outside their congregation or do not have a congregation are somehow missing out on the experience of God in their marriage. They are leaving out some very important people of the wedding party - the congregation who will support them and pray for them and stick with them through the entire marriage; call them the church family.

Romans 15:5
May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus, so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ (NRSV)
Amen.