Open letter about college chapel

Before you read this I want to qualify my remarks in this stated opinion. Please as you read this, and I hope you all will, know my heart. I do not desire defensiveness or explanation I am merely reminding us of my view of the purposes and benefits of Chapel/Assembly. I do not have an expectation that this communication will alter everyone’s mind or that everyone will be able to attend every chapel. With our new schedule we certainly will not be able to have all the participation but that should not take away from the community that is offered in Assembly or the support that this campus wide initiative needs. That being said, please read.

“It’s not that I don’t like Assembly. I just don’t have time to go – I could use that time to study in the library."

“I am an older adult and don’t really need the spiritual encouragement that happens in Chapel."

“I, know, as a faculty member I should go, but I just don’t like what happens in there. The praise & worship is not my style and the whole time seems geared toward students”

“I don’t like being made to go, and so I usually don’t."

“I love Chapel/Assembly – it’s great to see everyone and get a chance to be still and remember why we are here.”

“The student leaders who give announcements do a bad job, and I just can barely stand to go.”

“Sometimes as a employee getting to be in chapel regularly gives me the chance to look around and see the faces of our students, some happy, some disgruntled, some sad and it reminds me that I need to get out and reach out to the ones who may be really struggling with things behind the scenes. A face says so much.”

For the past 16 years, the Assembly program has been under my oversight. I have heard the comments listed above, and at times, I have thought and said some of them. Most particularly for me, the time devoted to going to Assembly seems like an interruption, but I have learned it is a valuable time. Not only from the standpoint of my job but from my desire to be a model, I have decided that I need to go. For me allowing the students to see me in a venue that is out of my office is important. It seems Assembly is a time when we all, if we choose, get to see one another out of our normal element whether it be the classroom setting, the library, the student center, cafeteria or whatever. We come and all have a chance to participate for a few minutes.

In fact, if I have an analogy for Assembly it would be dinner time within a family. When I was growing up, many families always ate dinner together. Everyone came to the table from whatever activities they had been involved in to share news, concerns, verify schedules and for those of us who are believers we got to pray together. Dinner time wasn’t just my mother's or father’s idea; it was for all of us.

I am a believer that the loss of dinner time created a breakdown in the community that families experienced. This community happened in family dinner time even when it was mandatory. I, myself, remember begging to be excused to be involved in some other worthy cause, but my parents felt this dinner time as necessary and sacred so we could remain connected as we all went out into the world. Many of my friend’s families did give up dinner time, and as the stats show, something beneficial was lost. We let our busy-ness overtake the subtle yet authentic nuances of lives that were integrated and conversation that occurred around the dinner table.

Coming back to the concept of Assembly, I feel the same way about this avenue of community. Most colleges and universities who have abandoned the concept did so for very good reasons. Maintaining chapel and its place in an institution that values time, money, GPAs, and college credit meant that daily chapel just didn’t make sense. And for us often Assembly has been viewed as an event that was out of Student Services or Campus Ministry. When in truth, it is commissioned by the Board and they didn’t come up with this concept to strangle our plans but actually had thought and reason behind it. Though, as we often reside in our own overworked and underpaid world, we can easily forget the “whys” behind Assembly. Studies indicate that the colleges and universities that have given up chapel programs have major regret and a sense of unique community has been lost.

In Jim Collins book, “Good to Great” (New York: HarperBusiness, 2001) he indicates that greatness for an organization comes from having integrity and focusing on your niche. At Rochester College, I truly believe Assembly is one of our niches and sets us apart from others. During this 30 minute daily event, we as a community have an opportunity to deal with life as a group. We cannot teach living in community if we are not indeed modeling it. Events such as 9/11, the war in Iraq, the deaths and illnesses of our families, the chance to celebrate community accomplishments, praying about life, peace, catching up with campus news—all these draw us together. Lastly, like a family dinnertime, it is a time where we all come together from our different walks of life to just be together.

I say all this because I believe Assembly is worth endorsing with our presence. None of us has time for the many things we fill our lives with and yet here we have a chance to just show up and like church (because in the truest sense of the word – we are “church”) we can participate by just being there. It saddens me that a few come here as employees or students and choose to see Assembly as a distraction, interruption or event that they feel doesn’t meet their needs. It is a tremendous tool – it is our dinner time and I am asking everyone to make time for it in their week so we can come together even when we don’t like what’s being served. Meatloaf night was not my favorite night but I still ate what was served. Even what a family eats fits in with the idea. My parents didn’t make us hot dogs or grilled cheese every meal when we didn’t like what was being served. We were introduced to challenging foods and learned to appreciate them. The same is true with Assembly. It’s a place where we can introduce students to different thoughts, worship styles, ideas, etc. Some might be hard to swallow at first, but with the community around them, they are given the opportunity to expand themselves and their horizons through the experience. Also remember that the meal isn’t only the cook’s meal because she/he cooked it. The meal belongs to everyone and is best enjoyed when everyone contributes by cooking, cleaning up, and most of all, showing up. No wonder our alumni remember and miss Chapel as much as any other major happening in their time here at RC.

Getting to hear about Matt’s battle with cancer, Dave’s trials in his life journey, Keith's helping us understand why we are perhaps hated by the Middle East, and the time we get to praise God should not be missed. I am fairly certain that regardless of whether I enjoyed or got anything out of these presentations that my presence meant something.

And I truly believe each of us making a time to be there to support this campus-wide initiative, which was put in place by the men and women who founded this college, is not only worthwhile but is respectful and honors their intentions. I hope you join me in sustaining, creating and participating in our daily assembly program.

Thanks for taking time to read this.

He believes we can save the world!

Years ago during Christmas holiday I had reluctantly accompanied my parents to one of my brother’s homes for the week of Christmas. I say reluctantly because I was very down and it seemed to me which ever way I turned things were not working out. I knew I wouldn’t be much company but I needed to be around familiar faces and hoped that that might distract and comfort me.

But the truth was that being in a crowd of people, even ones I knew, only seemed to make my failures increase in my estimation as I contemplated on them instead of the conversation occurring around me. I felt like a lead weight.

One night after everyone had retired and all the lights had gone out I lay in bed and I heard voices which were quiet but distinct. It was my Mom & Dad and they were talking about me. I listened intently and my Mom was saying that she was worried about me, that she had never seen me so down. There was a pause and my Dad spoke up in his noted southern accent and stated, “Mom, Candy is the most resilient person I know – she will make it through this”.

As I repeated his words back in my head I felt renewed somehow. To hear that my Dad believed in me was wonderful. I always felt I had been a major disappointment and truthfully I had, but my Dad believed I would make it.

Do you know what it feels like to be believed in when everything you have done says you’re a failure?

The disciples were told many times that those who have eyes to see and ears to hear and yet again and again they didn’t see or understand. As we take time to remember Jesus and his life death and resurrection let’s go back to the last meal with them and read what was recorded in Matthew 26:26-32

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to his disciples, saying, "Take and eat; this is my body." Then he took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them, saying, "Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it anew with you in my Father's kingdom." When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. Then Jesus told them, "This very night you will all fall away on account of me, for it is written: " 'I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.' But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee."

And in Luke 22:14 -20

When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. And he said to them, "I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God."

After taking the cup, he gave thanks and said, "Take this and divide it among you. For I tell you I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes."

And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me." In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.

Our participation in communion is one way of remembering Jesus and his demonstration of his belief in us:

· Jesus went ahead and chose death even though it seemed his disciples didn’t get his message and even abandoned him. He believed his disciples heard his message and saw his model and that they would fulfill the work he left them to do. I am pretty sure if I had been Jesus that I would have asked God for either a few more years or a whole new group of followers :-)

· Jesus told Peter when you have turned back strengthen your brothers.

· Jesus told Mary to tell the disciples to meet him in Galilee after he had risen.

Jesus believed in them and I will say he believes in us! Just as he had faith that the disciples and those who followed him would carry on the message of his life, Jesus has faith that those of us who are also the result of that faith will carry on his mission.

As we celebrate this communion and this remembrance let us be renewed in our belief, in our faith and commitment to Him, Jesus, who chose a bunch of misfits who he knew with only his help could they begin to rescue the world. Becasue he believes in us let us rise up from our disappointment and forgive and be forgiven.
Let us join Jesus in his belief that we may join Him in saving the world.

Barbara Brown Taylor's Leaving Church

I finished Reading "Leaving Church" by Barbara Brown Taylor and truly appreciated the read. It was an easy read full of feeling and heart as this one time female priest shares her journey from pastoring a large congregation in Atlanta where priestly duties never ended to a rural white-picket fence-like town where her greatest lessons are revealed.

Brown takes us through her personal journey where she learns that “church is broken and we know it, even if we don’t know what to do about it”, “We speak and sing of divine transformation while we do everything in our power to maintain our equilibrium. If redeeming things continue to happen to us in spite of these deep contradictions in our life together, then I think that is because God is faithful even when we are not”. This is a wonderful book that helped me see myself along her journey and the last few chapters were particularly heartening as she finds peace with leaving Church as she once knew it and yet finds aspects to keep in her new vocation as a college professor. Walking away from the collar, so to speak, gave Brown a new found faith and a new way to live out her beliefs that are truly challenging yet peace-filled to her own ministry.

Although the first chapters were good I felt I had already been there so the last few chapters were where I found the most meaning. So the initial journey though well rehearsed by me was totally worth the last few chapters which opened my eyes and heart in a way that makes me rethink how I live and think about church and my participation in it.

A thousand miles to take photos from the car!

Our arrival to Corpus Christi, Texas occurred with lots of excitement and trepidation as neither Mom, Dad nor I had been back in this place for at least twenty five years or longer. We had been transferred to Corpus when I was 9 years old as my Dad had been promoted and we left Wichita Kansas having only lived there 3 years. The memories I have of this city in Texas by the Gulf of Mexico, the people and places are too numerous to share but even now, as I write, a smile is crossing my face as I think about those times of life then and how unwittingly they have shaped who I am..
I had two best friends in Corpus, Mark L and Patrice S. We were the three musketeers and had lots of adventures, and were either inseparable or so mad at one another for some unknown reason that we would have nothing to do with one another. Of course this rarely lasted more than 24 hours. One of my favorite times was being over to Mark's house right before dinner, where it seemed like his parents drank margaritas daily and often they let us have a sip. Oh, the enjoyability of getting to do something adult-ish and feel like we got away with it! We were fantastic friends and the margarita sips were just one of the many memories I have of our “Spanky Gang”-like friendship.
So here we are cruising along Shoreline Drive which is lined with tall, skinny palm trees. suddenly spying the Holiday Inn with its big green sign with what looks like a cartoon like crayon drawing of some sort of fire works for their logo. We stayed right in that place when we first moved to Corpus (no one who lives there says the entire name of city – natives just say “Corpus”) and we began throwing out all the places we remembered like, our favorite restaurant was the Black Diamond, where Pop taught us all to love oysters on the half shell and Padre Island beach where we spent lots of summer times swimming, playing, searching for hidden sand dollars and getting stung by jelly-fish.
We lived at the Holiday Inn for about a week or so prior to being able to occupy our new home and the last morning of our stay in what we felt was royal living Mom treated us to breakfast at the hotel restaurant. It was a delicious time getting to eat in that nice of a restaurant with all those choices of pancakes, bacon and real butter and we relished every morsel.
When we had finished licking our plates of every drop of syrup and were sitting around the table like overstuffed pups, sort of cocked backwards & sideways in our sitting because our tummies were so full, Mom was digging around in her purse to come up with a tip and all she had was quarters. So with no other option, she left several dollars in quarters (I think we were going to do laundry that day) and we moaned and groaned as do those who have eaten with satisfaction and moved slowly out of the restaurant. Even now I remember what a great feeling it was to eat such a wonderful breakfast and then get to go to a new place – it was so exciting.
As we walked across the parking lot to reach our car, a 1969 white Chevy, My Mom noticed my youngest brother, Greg, was way behind us and she was urging him to stay with us. Greg was around 7 years old with bright blue eyes, fair complexion and blinding blonde hair, styled (if you can call it a style?) in a crew cut. He was running and had a wide grin on his face and had his hands cupped together holding some precious treasure. My Mom asked where he had been and how he needed to stay with us and Greg not waiting til she finished scolding him, blurted out; “I found a bunch of quarters of the table, Mom!” My two other brothers and I were all smiles and turned our gaze from Greg quickly to Mom to see what she would do. "Greg (with her teeth gritted), that money is for the waitress, it is called a tip and you leave it for her in thanks for the service! Now, she is not going to get anything!" There was a pause and then nervously we all laughed, except for Greg who had quickly discerned that he just lost his wonderful find. Mom told David, number two son (Dave was a year older than me), to take the quarters back and grimacing and pouting (which Dave was famous for) he ran back to the restaurant. We were only a few steps from our Chevy and we waited for my Mom to unlock her door and reach over to unlock the passenger doors to let us in (there was no such thing as automatic door locks then).My Mom, again, fumbled through her purse and somewhat panicky asked if any of us had seen the keys? We all shook our heads saying, "No” and then Mark, the eldest, who was peering in the window of our car stated excitedly, "Mom!, the keys are in the ignition!". All the doors were locked, as that was a rule Pop had always impressed upon each of us. "Did you lock your car door?" He would ask all of us as we got out and this time locking the door had not worked in our favor. Secretly I knew in my heart that forgetting to lock your car was not all bad.
Here we were on a very sunny July morning and it was already really hot, Mom did not want to bother Dad who had already started his job, so we stood there momentarily while she thought. The windows were cracked a bit and the driver's side window was about 2 and half inches open. We, not waiting for Mom’s decision, hoisted Greg up to see if his arm was skinny enough and it was but way too short to reach anything. Dave had returned and while we were pushing, pulling and squeezing this seven year olds’ limb around David was busy picking grass up and had tied several grass weed-like pieces together to make what looked like a mini-noose as it had a loop on one end. He held it up to show us and looked like a proud parent smiling saying he thought he could unroll the window with it. We all doubted his invention could actually work but we were a bit desperate though I am not sure why because the car didn’t have air conditioning so getting in would not make us cooler. I guess once we got the Chevy moving the breeze from the open windows would be better than standing here in the hot southern sun? As he lowered the grass noose through the crack and maneuvered it to slip over the window handle and slowly pulled it up, we had success!! The window came down enough for him to get his arm and hand in and unlock the door!! Mom was thrilled that she didn’t have to call Dad. I remember David was and still is our resident ingenious handy man.
Okay back to the current journey, as we drove along, Mom and Pop began to argue over the streets, street's names and directions that would lead us to our house on Kilarmet Circle and it was testy for several moments but when we finally began to behold familiar landmarks, we realized we were in the right place and we all commented on how developed the area had become. Once we got into our old subdivision, Schannen Estates, Pop crawled along so we could soak all the views of what was both familiar and unfamiliar in, as we tried to remember the families who had once lived in the houses we were seeing. We pointed and called out names of those residents we thought we remembered and stated a qualifying characteristic or characteristics of who the person was, like; remember Mr. Andy? He had a huge beer belly, skinny legs and always sat in his drive way in an aluminum lawn chair drinking Coors or remember the family on the corner who’s Dad unknowingly taught all the boys to cuss? It was fun to remember these neighbors and the parts they played in our lives, good, bad and humorous.
When we came to the left turn we needed to make to be on the circle I think we must of all held our breath abit in anticipation as to what we would see when we saw our former homestead? Pop drove at a slower pace and we could not believe our eyes, the house looked just the same, all the arched front windows had decorative white woodwork below the frames, there was a rubber tree plant growing up the side of the porch to the roof where I had once jumped off the roof through the tree and the small cut out door Dad had made in the fence so we could get through it more easily instead of having to open the big wooden gates. Everything seemed in tact..
Mom and I requested that Pop stop so we could get out and take a look around and get some photos of our old home. There was no one out and about in the whole neighborhood but Pop, turned and looked at us as though we had said something obscene, and replied, "We are not stopping, the people who live here will think we are casing out the joint. Just take the photos from the car and be quick about it!"
Honestly, I was dumbstruck! Could he have actually said that we should take photos from the moving car??? I automatically raised the camera as did my Mom and we both snapped several pictures and slowly drove off. I lost a bit, okay, most of the excitement I had felt about being here at a home that we had lived at thirty years ago and I was finally coming to from my state of unbelief and was beginning to think about how angry I was. We have driven a thousand miles to see a house that had become our home with so many wonderful memories and we didn't even get to stop but had to take snapshots from a moving lopsided rented 98 Oldsmobile! Ridiculous doesn't even begin to describe this behavior! Dad acted normal, as he had obviuosly seen what he wanted to see and was ready to move on. Looking back now maybe he was right to want to move on so quickly as no matter how long we stared at our home from some 30 years earlier those days and times could not be retrieved. But I think I would have enjoyed exhausting that lane of memories.
That evening in the hotel I got beyond my anger and allowed my mind to run through all the times we had at Kilarmet Circle in Corpus Christi, Texas. This journey and its events has just begun in all senses; the physical, emotional and spiritual. And I don’t think I was prepared for all these aspects that will obviously affect not only me but my parents. Was I insane to come? I guess we will find out and only eight more houses to see (or drive by) and some twenty four days to accomplish this five week trip – I can tell it will be a wearing but interesting process, if I survive?
Still thinking about this one event, I will always have a hard time believing, from my perspective, that we drove a distance of a thousand plus miles only to whiz by our old home hoping to take pictures of what might have been a lifetime of memories for many and Pop acted as if we were the dreaded paparazzi running from some maniacal celebrity. But we aren’t the paparazzi and there were no celebrities let alone people chasing us – I must laugh and hope the reader can fully drink this whole scene in. Oh, to get in the brain of my Dad and see what he must be thinking?? Was he really afraid someone thought we were trespassing or was it actually close to a meal time and he had more important things on his mind?

Lay Down Your Burden

Lay down your burden I will carry you; I will carry you, my child, my child. Lay down your burden I will carry you; I will carry you, my child, my child.

I can walk on water, calm a restless sea; I have done a thousand things you’ve never done. I’m really watching while you struggle on your own --- call my name and I’ll come

Lay down your burden I will carry you; I will carry you, my child, my child. Lay down your burden I will carry you; I will carry you, my child, my child.

I give vision to the blind and I can raise the dead, I’ve seen the darker side of hell and I’ve returned. I see your sleepless nights and count every tear you’ve cried --- some lessons hurt to learn.

Lay down your burden I will carry you; I will carry you, my child, my child. Lay down your burden I will carry you; I will carry you, my child, my child.


We talked about the powers and influences that often rule our lives and keep us from truly bringing God’s kingdom to this world at the Women in Ministry conference. How do we engage the powers and influences that have so distorted our world?

The answer for me was found in this song quoted above by Amy Grant. I heard it one day a couple of weeks ago and I was suddenly hit by the reality that I would have a problem with singing let alone saying these words. They are such simple words but thinking about it made me cringe because as I listened to the words I thought about what my reaction would be to Jesus if he actually wanted to carry me??

Through the influence of our culture and my own desire to give in to that - I am a do-it-yourself person and I imagined with a smirk on my face and some sadness in my soul that if I were unable to walk or lame that I would probably say to Jesus – “oh don’t worry about me – I can make it”, “It’s not that bad” or even if I did allow him to carry me because of some sense of knowing who he is – I would somehow try to lighten his load – perhaps holding my breathe and distributing my weight in such a way that I might be convinced I was helping him carry me?? Or maybe I would make sure that if he did carry me that at least I looked really good. Truly, this is laughable.

So I want to share my struggle with you – it may not be yours but you probably know someone like this, who is allowing the powers of our culture to persuade us that we are in control. Some one who feels if they don’t tackle a situation or need it won’t get done and certainly not done right!!! That if you are asked to do something that is worthwhile – you should! That as a woman you have to accomplish whatever is placed before you so that you can prove your worthiness, to yourself, your peers, your spouse, your children and to our Father.

Maybe you have done this – invited people over for a meal and stayed up late cleaning to the point that you are weary when your guests arrive and later you realize they never even mentioned how clean your bathroom was?!? But it’s not always the mundane things that burden us – often times it good things.

When I was a student at LSU (years ago) and involved with the campus ministry one year I applied to intern in the campus ministry and it was titled “College Women’s Counselor”. I was very passionate about my faith and really wanted to encourage other young college women and part of my role in this internship was to host bible studies in the dorm, hold office hours at the campus ministry student center on campus and host events to help evangelize the campus, etc. Soon I became immersed in doing God’s work and within a couple of months I was growing weary but I felt guilty at the thought of not spending every moment doing good things, so I trudged on. One day my roommate stopped by when I was the only one at the student center and when she popped her head in my office she looked at my quite seriously and asked slowly “How Are You doing and I mean really?” It was like that question was in slow motion and taking it all in I realized I was doing terrible for all my involvement and outreach – I was dry and beginning to shrivel up from the lack of nourishment from God, from lack of dependency on Jesus – this busyness that I spoke of earlier was consuming me. I cried and cried. How could I possible help others truly if I was not fully connected to the source of all wisdom, power, grace and forgiveness? The truth was . . .I couldn’t.

Even though I realized that then . . . it continues to be a battle for me – it just looks a little different. Saying “yes” to things can be so easy until you come to terms with the things that you may have to say “no” to because of your “yesses” –Does that make sense? If I say “yes” to a church ladies committee that may mean I say “no” to spending time with my kids or fill-in-the-blank.

This makes me ask why I feel the need to be so involved. Am I afraid to miss opportunities? Is it my drive to prove myself? And my answer is “yes” to all and I have discovered it is a sort of false humility – “I feel humbled by God and his gift and know I can’t do enough but I keep trying. I am subconsciously hoping to make up for my failures somehow – I am holding my breath to help Jesus carrying me better. In essence I am saying I don’t think God or Jesus is big enough to handle my issues.

Going back to the song I heard Jesus trying to convince me that I could depend on him because of all that he is capable of. How sad that I need reminding but how glad I am that he never grows tired and so instead of thinking about Jesus carrying me and my ego or false humility struggling with him carrying me - I begin to hear the song again and Jesus’ other words;
“I can walk on water, calm a restless sea, I give vision to the blind and I can raise the dead – I’ve seen the darker side of hell and I”VE Returned” – in these words my mind rushes back to the stories in scripture that support these word pictures and I realize my folly. Jesus wants to carry me and has more than enough power to do so. There is nothing I can do to help him other than be obedient. Allowing Him to carry me is so much easier when I am relaxed, at peace and enjoying the ride. While He carries me – I can listen to His point of view, get to know Him, telling Him my fears and realize the comfort of calling His name. I also realize that His power extends to everyone that He is in control and that even if I have to say “no” to a good thing that He will ensure He gets accomplished even if not by me. For goodness sake!! God loves and desires all to come to know Him and be rescued!! and Hhe has the power, grace and love to accomplish all His plans and although Hhe does not need me. . . He longs for my love, obedience, my resting in His peace, my allowing Him to carry my burdens, allows me to be useful in His quest to rescue the world.

TENSION

I use to think the pivotal word in life was balance. It came out in almost every discussion I had about aspects of my life like work versus family, responsibility versus play, waste versus recycling and on and on. Since I work fulltime and I enjoy what I do almost to the point of getting lost in it . . . at some point in my desire to feel good about home I had to ask myself what my priorities were and when it came down to it I had to BALANCE work and family. They both are important and truthfully I know family and relationships are so much more lasting but work has its place, too, and if it gives one purpose as my work does as well as enable me to live comfortably – it’s like a double dip. And so it goes BALANCE is needed in every aspect whether it be your responsibilities, diet, relationships, hobbies, faith, exercise, sleep, work or even play.

But I have learned something new and it almost hurts because it is so true! Balance although still true might be substituted by another concept that seems more visual and for me a bit more of a fit when it comes to life and trying to explain how we as humans attempt to deal with the everyday grind of it all and that concept is TENSION.

This topic of tension came up as one of my dear friends and a true kindred spirit and I were sipping iced and calorie packed coffee drinks at the local Caribou about 10 a.m. one day last week. We were talking about the STUFF that happens in our lives and if you don’t already know this for a fact - you will find out that bad things happen to everyone, including sinners and saints, and she mentioned that one of our resident teacher/preacher/philosopher types described how we ought to live as though “living in the tension of life”.

I began ruminating over that thought, about the tension necessary to sew something as easy as two pieces of fabric together and you must have a tension on the thread so the pieces of fabric stay together and fit snuggly. If you don’t have enough tension the pieces of fabric will likely look loose, fit badly and possibly come undone. If you have too much tension the seams will pucker and again a bad fit is the result and what you made lasts not long enough, is good for nothing or deeply flawed.

TENSION is a stress or pull but there is more than that - - - it is the right amount of stress or pull. And it isn’t just a matter of holding something it is grasping it with the right amount of pressure – are you seeing what I am saying why this truth is SOMEWHAT hard!?! Life is holding on to the important and necessary aspects with the right amount of grasp – not too tight and not too loose. Tricky uh?

I also know from my friend who deals with muscle tension that to build a muscle it requires being tense by lifting or exercising – too much tenseness and the muscle is damaged, a muscle that has no tension does not grow or become strong. So many analogies can happen here but I think you get the picture. Creating the right tension in your life so that you are holding on to the important things with the right pressure and you realize this grasp and the tension you exert can either help you grow and hurt you?

This also means we have to be conscious of our grasp and not take it for granted because sometimes we thinking we’re holding on but we have lost our grasp and the thing that was important becomes lost and we often can’t explain the hurt or loss. Because tension is so important we should realize – there are soem things we will need to realize and one is obviously there is a limit to what we can grasp and so we need to choose with intention the things we give our time, energy and heart to. although this tension aspect seems really hard - the trick is to practice.

Jesus didn't start his ministry until 30 years of age and I have often thought that he knew he had to be prepared, had to know his Father's word and be good at grasping his mission and that takes practice. Practice in what and how we grasp and keeping the grasp firm will certainly take training. I fear we dislike practice/training because we want ease and I am all for ease but it seems I only learn when things are hard.

And sometimes we are The Thing that is lost because someone else’s grasp has either become too tight and has let go and we are the person hurt, damaged, or betrayed. I am still reading Marianne Williamson’s book, The Gift of Change (It is getter more and more profound despite it’s wordiness) and something she said in the book also fits well with this concept of TENSION and that is we often don’t have control over the circumstances in our lives, such as cancer, death, job loss, or betrayed relationship but God has given us control over how we respond and in fact for me God’s perspective is one of those tensions, one of the grasps in my life that is conscientious and that I need to have in order to gage the other tensions necessary in my existence. I would love to say I always have the right tension in my grasp on God but I often get caught up with some other tensions and usually they are ones that are seemingly important but ones that are immediate wants?

Good-byes

Time to say Good-bye - I was listening to this song by Sarah Brightman and Andrea Bocelli as I drove to work this morning. The title actually in Italian is Con te Partiro' and everytime I hear this song I weep. The fullness of the music seems to be a rhythmic cry and the dramatic yearning in their voices helps the listener know regardless of whether you speak Italian or not that this song is about deep feeling and heart felt emotion. This particular morning as I wept listening to my car CD Player hearing Con te Partiro' I thought about all the times I have had to say "good-bye" most especially the times I felt this strong emotion about leaving the person, relationship, or place that I had grown secure in and several episodes came into my mind as I nudged along in the early morning traffic.

I have always avoided good-byes even at formal and informal gatherings I slip away unnoticed if possible to attempt to get out of any slobbering, gooey, or sentimental good-byes and it's not that I don't feel sentimental - I do. I just don't like showing that emotion or getting caught up in my feelings of sadness over the change that every moment in our lives can bring. Maybe this avoidance is tied to my childhhood?I moved alot as a young person with my family and even though my Dad and Mom did a great job of preparing us (my 3 brothers and myself) by helping us look at the move as an adventure.

I do remember a couple of times having a huge lump in my throat when having to say "good-bye" to my best friends. When I was in seventh grade and we lived in Corpus Christi my Dad had a job transfer to New Orleans. That seemed wildly exciting but I had two best friends, Mark Lamb and Patrice Scott. We did everything together. Walked to and from school, drank Mark's parents' margaritas before dinner, planned our halloween costumes and talked about growing into adulthood together. The day we were to drive away Mark came to say good-bye (Patrice and I were fighting so she didn't come) and we just looked at each other with sadness, struggling for words. He started to cry and I told him if he cried I would hate him forever (I did not want to cry but knew I would if he started) and he gulped and kept his distance waving as we drove away. I could hardly breathe I was so sad. Here I was losing my closest comrade and faithful friend. Who knew what awaited me in another state and much bigger city?

Another "good-bye" that ripped at my heart was twofold. It was the first love of my life and I knew we needed to move on, that this relationship was deemed to be one of those brief but lasting first loves with lots of wonderful memories attached with time gone by. I knew in order for me to mature and make the emotional break that I needed to move far away and so I prayed hard and when the chance came I pulled up my stakes from this place and friends that I loved (I had hoped I would live there forever) and cried for years it seems over saying good-bye to not only my first love, the attachment and attraction, but to a closeknit group of church family and a best friend who is still my very best of friend - Liz. The heartache and choices at the time seemed monumental. It was the right thing to do because of my emotional attachment (which might have eventually caused me to marry for the wrong reasons) but still very hard because a dream of mine died and new dreams had to be pursued (though at the time this was impossible for me to grasp). I believed God would watch over all of us - pointing us to paths and being with us in our choice of paths so that in listening to Him our journeys might end better and for my part I believe it occured though perhaps not in the way I imagined. Does anything?

Another heart wrenching "good-bye" that comes to my mind was seeing my parents before I moved to Michigan and once again knowing my life would be changing in ways I wouldn't be able to fully comprehend at the time. As I drove away in my Toyota truck I could smell my Dad's aftershave "Old Spice" and my Mom's mixture of light perfume and baby powder. Just remembering this brings back those scents to my nostrils and the feelings I had about separation in the miles that I would be from them - I had lived many miles away before but somehow this seemed more permanent and it truly was . Funny how taste and smells can evoke memories? I cried most of the way from New Orleans to St Francisville driving and thinking about that "good-bye" (from depending so much on my parents to this unknown journey into adulthood and a fairly permanent career). What a journey it has been!

Although I despise "good-byes" the one aspect of this song that I imagine in the lyrics (which is actually between lovers and from my view that is an aspect of my relationship with God) is that as a Christian I believe good-byes are temporary even break ups will some how be reconciled to a degree. So my sadness can be felt fully and embraced because the change will bring maturity, if I choose it, and God will make good on all the times I have had to say "good-bye". I have experienced that reconciliation even here on earth and have learned to say "good-bye" more completely and allowed myself to cry because it was how I truly felt and somehow I know this is not the end. Embracing the feelings has encouraged me to appreciate the emotion in its full strength while also hoping that things would be renewed either with a new relationship or the mending of one torn or the understanding of the benefit of the "good-bye" for all involved. Good-byes are still difficult but so then they should be - good life equals good efforts which does not always equal an easy life. This is what I think.