Wise words

I’ve been reading a little book called The Inner Voice of Love by Henri Nouwen. It contains meditations Nouwen wrote while suffering from a “dark night of the soul”. It was recommended to me by a pastor who knew my faith has felt tremulous.

It's as if Nouwen peeked into my heart and wrote these words to me. I find myself re-reading certain passages, hoping to imbed them in my mind and heart—hoping to believe that such freeing truths could be, well, true.

This book addresses the inner work which I believe we all must do, if we hope to grow in our spirituality. Nouwen identifies universal fears and—while writing to comfort and reassure himself—offers comfort and reassurance to the reader.

Nouwen writes about gratuitous love. This is love freely given to others, without the expectation that they will return it, but with the knowledge that all expressed love will flow back eventually. The recipient of your love may not be the giver, and that’s okay. It is still right and good to give love freely. And it will come back.

I long to be free of the mind games we play with each other. I must believe that—with God’s help—I can thrive without expecting others to fill my empty spaces. I long for total acceptance of myself and others. But I have such a long journey still. And I feel so vulnerable.

Nouwen’s words point me in the right direction. They are salve on my sore spots. They are dewdrops of grace.

If this resonates with you, I suggest that you read Nouwen. You may find a voice that speaks right to your soul.

Getting on the schedule

As I seek to support children’s ministries at my church, I’ve concluded it’s all about relationships. The church is the perfect place for us to get to know one another and establish caring connections. But it’s hard for us to get on folks’ schedule.

We’ve tried Wednesday nights, but things dwindle when the weather warms up and activities kick in. Now the church is thinking of centering family activities on Sundays, but that idea sounds kind of exhausting. I like Sundays to be quieter, less hectic.

I know many churches struggle with these issues. How do we compete with sports and other activities for space on the family calendar?

Maybe building around the Sunday service makes the most sense. Adults might not want Sunday afternoon activities, but children and youth like to be together.

Now we’re preparing for school to end and folks to scatter. But before we know it, we’ll be back again, trying to gather children and families in meaningful fellowship.

Check out www.disciplesworld.com for an inspiring story about a thriving, creative children’s ministry. It just takes one gifted and creative person—and a supportive church—to make a huge difference for children.

Remembering Mom

I love that Mother’s Day falls on a Sunday, though my mother and I have sat in church together only a few times on Mother’s Day. The last time was seven years ago, I think, before we cut off the boys’ silky curls for the first time.

But I have sat in church many times and thought how blessed I am to have a mother like mine.

Mother’s Day means something a little different every year. This year it’s bittersweet because there was one less card to buy. I’ll miss talking to my grandmother and hearing her proclaim, “Every day is Mother’s Day!”

Whether we are celebrating, grieving, appreciating or regretting—and the mix grows richer and more complicated every year—let’s pray for reconciliation and reunion today.

For it’s a holy day, of sorts.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

Happy Mother’s Day, everyone.

Clear and present children

“I believe that children are our future,” Whitney Houston sang at a time when I listened to the radio as much as possible. I guess radio-listening is passé now.

Children and youth are the future of the world, obviously. But they are the present, too.

Many churches acknowledge the need to reach out to young people. Too few put children’s development at the center of church life.

Imagine a church with a vibrant spectrum of programming from tots to teens. Imagine a family of faith that spans the generations. Imagine the support that would under-gird and sustain us through the challenges of life—and faith.

Such a church won’t fix a broken world. But it would be a haven.

How can I give life to the vision that glows in my mind of a place where folks finally realize that what is good for children is good for all of us?

Is God calling me to make that vision reality?

Help!

Docking the ARK group for the summer

We’re nearing the end of the pilot ARK group.

Everyone claims that they love the program and find value in the support and suggestions. No one can think of a more convenient time or format for the meetings. Free food and childcare after church are pretty good incentives.

But attendance has been unpredictable.

The most reliable participants have been those of us who live the closest and have the most regular schedules. Yes, those of us with two-parent families in which no one ever works on Sundays or has to worry about court-ordered child visits.

In truth, my family might have even missed a time or two if I wasn’t the coordinator. The boys had 2:00 soccer games the last two Sundays, which made our Sabbaths rather frenetic.

Today, families go nonstop. If weekends ever were sanctuaries, they are no longer. Sometimes we cut things out because we just need to find down time wherever we can.

The last thing I want is for ARK to be another stressor for families.

So, in the fall, I plan to offer the group during the Sunday school hour. The kids will be in Sunday school and, right now, several parents just wander around and munch donuts. We might as well be gathering and supporting one another.

Funny how scheduling seems to be one of the hardest parts of ministry. I know I’m guilty of putting church last on the list of priorities. Maybe it’s because you know they’ll probably forgive you, while the soccer moms might not.

Still, I have to think about what I’m showing my kids. I never expected that we’d spend so much time and energy on athletics. Church activities round our family out in important ways. They ground us in values too often missing on the soccer field.

So, I’m committed to ARK as a ministry to families in my community. I count my hours in ARK groups among the best time I’ve spent this year. I’m going to keep spreading the word.

Learn more about ARK at: www.thearkgroup.org.

Wherever two or three are gathered

Here’s the working title of my new book: Why Churches Bring out the Worst in People.

I’d like to know how church life can manage to turn a bunch of Christians into wild animals. We better hope God is with us because otherwise we are going to get eaten alive—by each other.

I know some of the answers. We’re human. We’re political. We’re sensitive, and often blind to out own faults.

Plus, we’re prone to group think. The outspoken speak out and too many of us just mumble our opinions under our breath , but go along with the crowd.

Factions divide, resentment festers, and feelings get hurt. Churches are messy because people are messy.

I’m quick to point fingers at those who I don’t get along with, but not as good when the finger gets pointed at me.

I know I should pray more, but I’m better at complaining.

Yet, I know that the church is me and I am the church. Maybe I should call my book: Why Church Brings out the Worst--and the Best--in Me. That would be more accurate.

Yesterday I read a publication in which a young woman minister quoted Sharon Watkins, “We are the people we’ve been waiting for.”

Oh. Okay, then.

I guess--if I want peace and justice--it's up to me.

But what do I do with this accumulated angst? And how can I best advocate for children, and others whose voices aren't heard?

Prayer, take three.

Navigating the wilderness

I’m beginning to see the scope of things. Yes, I’m beginning to get the lay of the land.

It looks rocky. It looks dangerous. I’m not sure I can get across in one piece.

I’m wondering if I should turn back and run for shelter. What was I thinking, coming out into this wilderness? I feel lost and alone.

Where am I?

No, I’m not in the Arizona desert, among the rattlers and scorpions.

I’m in church. And I care about children.

Children and church. Church and children. The alliteration is lovely. You’d think the pairing would be natural. But it’s not.

Of course, I once believed churches were enclaves of harmony and bliss, too. You can tell I didn’t attend church much in my younger days.

Churches are microcosms of society. Just like people, they are imperfect.

But I have a dream. I want to see children fully embraced and celebrated at church. I don’t know exactly how to make that happen, but I better start to figure it out.

I have a feeling that there are no magic pills. I have a feeling that this is up to me.

I must take action. I must spread the word. I must practice what I preach.

Time to pray, again.