A+ha.

O Come All You Faithful.

I was listening to Christmas music on an early run this morning and heard the familiar tune and words: "Sing choirs of angels, sing in exaltation..." I stopped for a moment--right in the middle of the street--and wondered what that would sound like. What would it sound like if choirs of angels started singing in exaltation? And then believe it or not, I heard it. A choir of angels. They were singing from inside of me: inside of my heart, inside of my head, deep from my soul. And I started to weep as I realized the simplest truth: the choirs of angels aren't outside of us. They are inside. And they are beautiful: their voices, their light, their very being is amazingly holy and beautiful. Glory to God, indeed. 

Playlists. Rituals. And Soundtracks.

Very few people know that before I get ready to preach I have a playlist that I listen to. It's kind of a pre-game ritual: songs that pump me up. The playlist varies according to the season of the year. For example: Lent and Advent have a bit more of a meditative feel while Epiphany, Easter and Pentecost are a bit more upbeat. No matter what the season, though, there is one song that is always on my list: Honky Tonk Woman by the Rolling Stones. I'm not exactly sure when I started listening to this one as a part of the ritual, but it's been at least six years. It has a good beat and I can dance to it and besides--it's my favorite song. Oh, yeah: dancing is an important part of the warm up ritual, too. Moving. Getting going so that I can get others going (or at least try to get others going). I one of those people who believest that moving and music are pretty holy...and this is a holy ritual every week. 

What are your rituals? And what music provides the soundtrack for those rituals? 

 

Purging. Part 1.

Every now and then, it's good to go into your closets, look under the bed, go down in the basement and rummage around...and then start throwing away all of that stuff you've been hanging onto, carrying around, sitting with, saving "just in case." Pitch it. Toss it. Lose it. 

That's what I've been doing for the past couple of weeks: sorting through years and years and years worth of crap that has been accumulating (multiplying?) and cluttering up space. 

What amazes me is that even after sorting and cleaning out and cleaning up, there is still way too much stuff. It's amazing what all I've been holding onto. What I still hold onto. There's more work to do...

 

Breathe.

I was having a hard time focusing on my workout this morning. Not because I didn't want to. I did. Really. But sweat was dripping in my eyes. My feet felt like cement blocks. My abs felt as though they were being torn apart. It wasn't pretty. So when I heard a perky little voice from the front of the room say, "Only one more minute until we switch it up!!" my first thought was "#*$@!" quickly followed by "you've got to be freaking kidding me..." and a whole lot more swearing.

*Note: I believe those thoughts were all in my head. I apologize to those around me if they weren't. 

Anyway, just as the swearing in my mind was hitting a crescendo, the perky voice came back with: "And don't forget to breathe..." which prompted the voices in my head to laugh hysterically. "Breathe? Who can breathe? I'm trying too hard to do these crunches..." 

Oh. Yeah. I heard it. "I'm trying to hard..." Breathe. D'oh.

I could translate this gem of an insight into hundreds of different feel good "Aren't we all just trying too hard?" stories about work, family, relationships, government, religion or any other hot-button topic. But I'm not going to. Not right now, anyway. You get it. I get it. We all get it. It's the simple truth that makes life less painful, way more full and a whole lot more fun:

Stop trying so damn hard. And don't forget to breathe. 

More to come...

You? A Minister? Huh.

"YOU? A minister? Huh. Wouldn't have guessed it." That's been the most common response to the "what do you do for a living" question that I hear when introducing myself in workshops, classes or at a convention. As I've spent a lot of time in workshops, classes and conventions this year (a LOT of time), I'd guess that I've heard this response at least...oh, say...a few hundred times. Easily a few hundred times. Usually I just smile and say, "Yup." But every now and then out of sheer curiosity I'll take the conversation one more step and ask, "Why does that surprise you?" I've found that the answer to that question is most often this one:

"Because you seem pretty (cool, sane, fun, approachable, easy going, open minded, decent)." 

Those things are all true, BTW. I am all of those things and more. And I'm a minister, too. In a Christian church. The United Church of Christ, to be exact. And I love it. I love being a minister. I love being a part of a church--a community where people sometimes agree and often times don't. I love it that we all get together week after week after week to share life and ask questions and wrestle with answers and wonder what it in the world it means to be fully human and fully holy. I love it that I can ask people what they are going to do with their "one wild and precious life" (thanks, Mary Oliver, for that beautiful image) and challenge them with Dr. Phil's "how's that working for you?" question, too. Because in their searching and reflecting, I get to search and reflect, too. That's the thing: we are in this life together. All of us. Connected. One. We belong to one another because we belong to God. 

And that's why I love the church. It's the best place I know to be reminded of these truths, to be reminded of who we are and to whom we belong, over and over and over again. Without these reminders, we forget. We start to think that life is all about us. And when we think that life is all about us, we lose our sense of compassion. We lose our sense of empathy. We become selfish and mean and generally downright awful people--and that's not good. Not good for us. Not good for our relationships. Not good for the world.

It saddens me to think that there are those in the world who don't associate "cool, sane, fun, approachable, easy going, open minded and decent" with the church. I hope to change that. 

There's an app for that.

Laugh if you want, but I use my iPhone to meditate. Evidently I'm not the only one. Check out these great meditation apps...

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2011/07/meditation-theres-an-app-for-that/

I guess it's time...

The blog is back. After a loooooong hiatus, it's time to start blogging again. You can check out old blog posts about youth ministry, family stuff, and who-knows-what-else on these pages. Along with these topics, I hope to be sharing thoughts on community, the Enneagram, coaching, Integral Life and who-knows-what-else. We'll see what comes up. Suggestions for topics are always welcome. Happy reading.

Twas the Night (or weeks) Before Christmas

The Plymouth UCC staff got together last night for our annual Christmas party. There was the usual exchange of silly gifts and a great dinner. There was also a lot of laughter and some downright silliness. There was singing and dancing and storytelling, too. What a great group of people! What a great event! Check out the photos posted in the 'photo' section of the blog.

Merry Christmas!

Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving Day. Some traditions about this holiday don't change: the Macy's Day Parade, football in the afternoon, reflections on what we're thankful for, prayers for those who go without.

And some things do change: beef and noodles instead of turkey (a long story), marriage and the question of "where do we spend the holiday?" People get divorced, their children grow up and loved ones die. In the midst of all of the change, we are still thankful and grateful for God's presence in our lives, each and every moment.

I'll be sharing this day with my family: Ben (home from college), Bailey (home from her first college visit), Hannah, Paul, my dad, his wife and her mom. We'll be eating the now-traditional beef and noodle dinner, remembering Thanksgivings-past, and reflecting on all we are thankful for: health, home, friends, family, changes in life, the opportunity for moments like this.

A good day. Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.

Turning 40

I missed my 40th birthday. Well, not really. I still had a birthday but I spent it on the couch recuperating from surgery.

I also missed the Iowa State Fair this year. You might be thinking: "Big deal." But to me it is a big deal. I love the fair: the sounds, the colors, the animals, the people, all of the food on a stick.

I guess Paul must have felt really sorry for me because he started working with my friend Jane to plan the coolest 40th birthday party in the whole wide world. It was at the Iowa State Fairgrounds. There were corndogs. And lemonade. And tenderloins. Birthday cake, too. A couple hundred of my favorite people showed up to listen to my favorite band (the Saturday Night Worship band) play some of my favorite tunes, participate in a talent show (ala The Bill Riley Talent Show), and even ooh and aah over the butter cow made by the high school youth from Plymouth. I was even crowned the new Iowa State Fair Queen by the Lieutenant Governor of the Great State of Iowa. Yes, Sally Pederson herself wrote and read a beautiful declaration for my birthday.

Quite a party. Quite a husband. Quite a group of friends. I'm still speechless. My tiara is now sitting on the head of my jackalope in my office. My declaration is waiting to be framed. And photos abound--you can see some of them on this blog site.

Thanks, Paul. Thanks, Jane. You two are sneaky. And wonderful.

I love you.