Monday, March 30, 2009

Dearest God,

I've been going through pictures, thousands. Pics of my early years as a child, a teen, then a married woman, a mother, a minister, a grandmother. I am sweeping through the years of my life. My, how I have changed. I've never sat down and looked at a pictorial directory of my life. I've been awash with memories.

How could I have gone throughout life without you? How could I have made the changes, been bent by life experiences and transformed without your loving grace? How could I have made it through life without faith in the only Living God?

I have seen your handprint on the images. I have witnessed difficult times exchanged for seasons of faith and trust. I have seen how love has turned my fear into faith. I have viewed ugly sin remoulded into grace. I have witnessed tears turned into joy. I have looked upon brokenness mended into wholeness. I have seen one miracle after another.

What can I say?

What can
I say indeed,
dear God,
what can
I say
to you?
Compassion
and grace
have seasoned
my life
with hope
and comfort.
Birthings
and blessings
have filled
in the cracks
and crevices
of death
and loss.
You have been
my constant companion,
my redeeming savior,
my confidant,
my comforter,
teacher and friend.
What can
I say,
Gracious Loving God?
My heart
is yours
forever.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Dear God,

Where will I make my new church home? With whom will I sing in the choir? With what community will I make my prayer? Where will I serve?

These questions are very important to me as I ready to leave my church in retirement. I want to make my fellowship with your family. I want to lift up my praise in your church. I want to be a servant reaching out into the community.

Where will I lie down following the days of my life to be remembered?

Lead me,
Lord,
lead me
to your church.
Make my path clear.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Dear God,

I witnessed a miracle today. When a friend tried on an Easter outfit, a radiant color came to her cheeks. It's her first in more than 50 years.

A life changed, transformed by you. It's what you do, change lives. And with that transforming power, you give evidence that you have swept by. I could see your radiant glow in my friend's face.

You never leave us alone. You know our growing edges, our challenges, our struggles and wrestlings, our worries and fears but you never abandon us, leaving us in our puddle of woes. You speak to us, you nudge us, you whisper hope and the possibility of change. You give us power to do something different. You lighten our load as we take the first step. You show us the way, opening doors, windows, even making cracks where we can move from where we are to where we can be with your assistance. A remarkable feat.

Keep us growing,
dear God,
keep us stretching
and growing.
Refine us
with the fire
of your spirit.
Reshape us,
as a potter
reshapes old clay.
Restore us,
taking the broken
and mending it,
filling the cracks
with your
mercy-filled love.
Renew us
with grace,
giving us
new perspective
and appreciation.
Redo us,
as an artist
blends the colors
bringing new life
to the canvas.
Revitalize us
for praise.

Love, Andrea

Friday, March 27, 2009

Dear God,

What is prayer, Lord? What is prayer? When I prayed in bed as I was readying for sleep to come, I saw a puppet maker with strings to people all over the world. One slight jerk and a single puppet dances on the earth.

Tonight as usual I prayed for the whole world. How can I pray for those closest to me if I don't pray for all? But in this strange scenario I saw all the strings being pulled at one time. What is prayer?

By my own prayers alone I ask you to help others, the suffering, the frightened, the abused, misused and mistreated. Do I think you hear the prayer alert and you begin pulling strings? Who is the god in this scene?

It came to me that prayer is a way to keep me involved in the world, not just me but all people who pray. Prayer is a way of softening the human heart; it fills the heart with compassion. It inspires me to help at home and abroad. It makes me look at others with mercy and kindness. Prayer links me with my brother and sister human. It makes me responsible to share my self and my resources with those around me. It keeps me from setting up my own kingdom.

Prayer connects me like a chain link fence with every other creature in the creation. It teaches me to lift others up, those who are sagging, having trouble holding their tiny piece of creation. It causes me to respond in difficult moments. It draws me close to your living heart. I hear and see the heartbeat of God and often I respond in beautiful ways. Not because I am a great prayerer or all that faithful, but rather because with a softened heart, I am enabled to see and hear in deeper and more meaningful ways the cries of the world.

You put
such thoughts
in my head,
O God.
You are always
breaking down
the walls
of tiny boxes
I build.
You
enlarge,
expand
my capabilities,
my courage
and strength,
my love,
trust and faith.
You made me
with a part
of yourself
so I am enabled
to see
as you see,
to hear
as you hear,
to respond
as you respond.
Teach me faithfulness
every waking moment
and even
in my dreams
that I
may become
more effective
in your service
of love.

I desire to honor you, Andrea

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Dearest God,

I took the first step toward better health, Lord. I stepped on the treadmill and walked 20 minutes, burned 120 calories, and went over a mile. I listened to Taize music, that magnificent four-part harmony. I remembered sitting on the floor in the worship center at Taize, peoples from all over the world gathered together to sing your praise. I walked, sang and remembered.

I want to surrender eleven pounds, dear God. Eleven pounds that have been burdening me down. These eleven pounds represent an undisciplined life with my weight and I want to step back on the disciplined path once again. I need to for my health and outlook.

I can do nothing substantial without you. I can play at life but a real life is one lived with you. By taking your direction, by desiring to live life fully in your spirit, by making a commitment to make a contribution to the lives of people around me, I can rejoice in praise and live a meaningful, valuable life.

Not only do I want to help myself, I want to bring joy to you. I want to delight you by becoming more disciplined. I want to live a life that is a witness to all that I believe about you. I want to bring you the joy of my praise.

Living God,
I want
to walk
more fully
with you.
I want
to awaken
with you,
journey with you,
go to sleep
with you
in my life.
May my life
be a testimony
to your love
in the world.

Loving you, Andrea

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Dearest God,

Seven youth. That's what I have in my confirmation class. Seven youth.

As the new year rolled around, I was not looking forward to conducting a confirmation class. Why? My health was at an all-time low. A friendship had been lost. A church issue was consuming my time. Personal issues were sucking the life out of me. I could not imagine having the energy to prepare and orchestrate a confirmation class for teens.

And yet with determination I held the orientation class. Following the class youth and parents shared concerns over the requirements, mandatory attendance and time in class and with mentors. One parent stated they had no idea so much was involved. I was ready to cancel it. In fact that's what I said to a couple of parents. The kids could wait for the next pastor. I simply had no energy left and I was not going to do a disservice to the youth by diminishing the program. They deserved the best and even in a debilitating emotional, physical and spiritual condition I held my ground.

Now, I know why. Tonight we met together. I gave them a pop quiz. Oh, not a memorization quiz, like write down all the books of the Bible or who said? Rather I asked eight questions. What is the Bible? What is the value of the Bible? What is the biggest question you have about the Bible? We traded papers and then we discussed the answers. I've never held a confirmation class where kids shared more thoughtful answers. The discussion was amazing as we wrestled with the big questions. At times we could have heard a pin drop; they were hanging on the discussion. I felt faith alive, being bounced around, wrestled with, savored. I was proud and humbled at the same time.

Later I asked a couple of girls if they liked confirmation. (Like they're going to tell me no) "We love it." They both said at the same time. "We love it."

They love learning
about you,
Lord.
When discussing
the question
of evolution
and creationism,
one girl
raised her hand
in her
school class
when asked
who believed
in creationism,
my youth said,
"I put up
my hand.
I was proud
to say
what I believed."
Faith
in-the-making,
that's what
it is,
faith
in-the-making.

So grateful, Andrea

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Dear God,

Trips to the mountain have led me to surrender past hurts. I encountered you on the mountain, a gentle whisper telling me to do what I knew was right and good.

Some time ago I surrendered resentment and bitterness toward a family member. A situation had occurred that had placed elderly members of my family in a precarious, vulnerable place. I had to work hard to undo the situation and protect them. I harbored resentment against the guilty party. In the long run the resentment festered in my soul because the soul is an unnatural place to hold on to destructive things. A trip to the mountain gave me an environment in which to release, let go of those damaging feelings and emotions.

On a regular basis I return to the mountain to talk. It may be an actual mountain in New Mexico or it may be a higher state of mind, an uncluttered place where I go to sit at your feet, to listen to your voice, to weep out my sorrows, to find new perspective. I am rarely disappointed.

Because I traveled up the mountain and released pent-up feelings, I was able to renew a relationship with the family member. I didn't receive an apology either for the wounded family members or for myself. However, my soul is clear. I suspect there's some clutter in his soul and it is his to deal with. What it did do for me was establish a relationship once again that was destroyed at the time the event/events took place.

I got a call from the family member saying he was having surgery. I know he has fear tucked inside. Since the incident he has had several surgeries and needs more. He didn't know he had a heart problem until they told him he needed five bypasses. I knew he had had a "heart" problem at the time he was doing what he was doing. But the call opens the door for my family to get together and I am grateful.

Loving God,
you opened
the door
to reconciliation.
You made
a path
in the desert
for living water
to once again stream.
You spoke hope
to the parched,
to the scorched,
to the thirsty
and we drank
together.

Loving you, Andrea

Monday, March 23, 2009

Dearest God,

A fresh new day is dawning. I am filled with hope, a hope that is a mixture of faith and trust. To awaken in the dark and watch the miraculous birthing of another day is a gift I savor each morning.

I do not know what today will bring. Could be joy, could be sorrow. Doesn't matter because you are God of both. I learn to trust you each morning. I step into the darkness knowing for certain that the light will shine.

O God,
I love
to meet you
in the darkness
or in the light.
Our living relationship
gives me
such life.
On days
when I feel sad
or sometimes hopeless
I am nudged
by a force
that reminds me
that I do not live
a solitary life.
Your gentle nudges,
well not always
so gentle,
keep me
on course,
keep me
in love
with you.
My life
is rich
because you are
in it.
How many ways
are there
to say
thank you?

Love, Andrea

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Dearest God,

I wrote my sermon from inside a love story, yours. I was writing my sermon on Saturday when my pastor husband shared a story from a new book he was reading. The illustration changed the course of my Sunday morning message.

Yours is a love story. The story of Jesus is a love story. The promise of presence at the ascension set the stage for a continuing love story.

Telling a love story is a comforting, joyous occasion. A story that goes on and on, on and on even into eternity is always worth telling. And the fact that I am a minister is a love story itself. I was called to share the story in every way I could. You trusted me with your story. At times it is still hard for me to believe you allowed me in to tell your story.

As I preached, my hope and prayer was that your love would fall upon your people, that they would discover once again the awesome power of your love. I watched as I shared the story of two Amish girls who faced down a gunman with courage, sacrifice and love for the neighbor. It was a powerful story, it is a powerful story of love.

There is so much power in love, dear God. From the beginning you created love, not just some kind of infatuation that one feels for another but rather a love that overrides everything else, love that emits hope, compassion, joy, peace, and faith, of course.

How many times have I been caught up in love from on high? How many times has your love wooed me back home? How many times has love caught me as I was falling? How many times? If there was an exhibit of your love, no building would be big enough to hold it. No museum great enough. I guess that's why I told the story of Marion today who exhibited your love. Her life is the exhibit and her story went around the world. What more could you ask of any of us?

Lord of heaven
and earth,
I stand amazed
at the wonder
of your love.
So long ago
you captured
my heart
by your love.
As a young child
gazing into
the dark night sky
from the
sleepover floor
of my grandmother's
front room,
I felt
the sudden movement
of my heart
as I thought
of you.
Your love
has held
my heart
all these years.
I am
so incredibly grateful.

Loving you always, Andrea

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Dearest God,

Little four and a half year old Stella sat on my lap in the basement. Just getting up from our sleepover, my little red-headed granddaughter wanted to talk. She started every sentence with "Hey!"

This miracle baby who saved her mother from dying of ovarian cancer wants to be a builder. That's what she told me at Bob Evans last night. "I have a dream!" She told me. "I want to be a builder." "What do you want to build?" I asked her. "I want to build an Eiffel Tower!" I told her she could do it.

I don't know the inside of miracles. I don't know how a mystery unfolds. What I do know is this child has a purpose. I believe every child is born with a purpose; however, Stella has promise to do something more.

I looked into her eyes this morning. Those hazel eyes sparkle when she talks. Her creamy-colored complexion, red hair and hazel eyes pop against a toy-laden background.

Every time she comes to visit she will come up to me and say, "Hey, Grandma, I love you."

Thank you
for grandchildren,
Lord,
for the privilege
of sharing
in their lives.
Thank you
for Stella,
the wonder child
who wants
to build.
I told her
she builds love
all the time.
Thank you,
God,
thank you.

Love, Andrea

Friday, March 20, 2009

Dear God,

You have taught me well. Tonight as I worked on my computer I felt a sudden loss of energy. Not as much as sometimes. But I always know what I need to do. Conserve, move slowly, breathe deeply, trust you.

Climbing the stairs can sometimes seem a monumental task. But when I climb one or two and then rest, I find the strength to make it the rest of the way. When I climbed into bed allowing my body to recoup, to find physical and emotional strength I breathed in your hope.

Such times remind me how close I need to remain with you. I need to trust you like the first time. I never know what might happen: get better, get worse. But I pray my trust will not grow worse but grow better.

Life is
all about
trusting you.
Whatever I do,
wherever I am,
you teach me
to trust you.
You call
my name.
You call
my name.
You call
my name.

Gratefully, Andrea

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Dearest God,

I am preparing for the future. I sense in my soul my new future.

Transitions, those moments when things change and I have to make an adjustment, are times when I realize you are so close. Those openings that don't look familiar call to me inviting me in. Sometimes I don't want to go in. I hang on to the past, to the familiar, the known. Being drawn in I hear and feel the skidding of my feet, not wanting to enter. And yet, you call out and call me in.

Like a tender shoot rising up from the deep, moist, and warm soil I feel vulnerable and scared by all the new things I see and feel. When I am not sure of my changing environment, I sometimes want to crawl back into my cocoon where I know every crack and crevice. But most of all, I cry out to you, "Lord, Lord, help me." I've been crying out for a long time.

Yet, I know in my spirit I have already entered in. I am in the new place you have created for me. Sometimes I cry out for the past; yet, I know this is where I am destined to be. You were with me before and you are with me now. I am not alone.

O God,
Traveling Companion,
I am
never alone
on the journey
of life.
I have only
to turn,
to look
and I find you.
Thank you,
Everlasting God,
for your attention
to the details
of my living.
I could
never travel
without you.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Dearest God,

A beautiful day dawned with sunshine and blue skies. As I looked into the heavens, I knew it was yet another miracle.

When I got up it was dark. The moon was bright and to the left of my bedroom window. Later as I stood at the kitchen window I saw that it had moved to the right of my kitchen window. I stood and gazed for a bit at the wonder of it all. The moon was giving way to the sun who would follow.

Although I have lived thousands of days on this earth, I am still amazed at the wonder of your grace. There is purpose to the moon rising and moving and giving way to the sun. There is purpose to the sun shining and moving and giving way to the moon.

There is, indeed, a time and season for all things. Even a time of amazement.

Rise and fall,
rise and fall,
rise and fall,
your call,
your voice
calling earth,
its sun and moon,
its stars and clouds
to rise
and fall.
Gracious God,
I am grateful
to live
in the middle
of your creation.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Dearest God,

An empty space, you asked me to make an empty space. An empty space without pre-planned words, cluttered feelings, a rehashed past. You asked simply for an empty space.

I watched how you filled the space with honesty, truth, forgiveness, laughter, hope, compassion, grace and love. If I weren't one of the two participants participating in this unfolding of your plan, I would have used it as a case study in openness.

A burden I have carried for months filled with anger, resentment, bitterness, sorrow and pain has been lifted. In an effort to open the space, to listen and watch, to follow your leading, the passing of the burden to you was nearly effortless.

An empty space, you simply asked for an empty space.

Loving God,
I watched
with intense interest
how you unfolded
your plan.
I saw firsthand
what you want
to do
with human lives.
The painful carrying
of past wounds
ended today.

In loving gratitude, Andrea

Monday, March 16, 2009

Dear God,

Sometimes it is hard to say what I need to say. I lack courage. I dance all around it and only in the end do I finally say the words. It's hard, really hard. But today I said it straight out. Felt good.

For a long time I prayed for clarity. Clarity to see things. Clarity to know things. Clarity that steps out of the gray cloud, the muddy waters, the misty fog. I have clarity now; however, once a person has clarity then another challenge presents itself. Action.

I am grateful for a clear picture. But a clear picture is not always what I want it to be. A clear picture illumines the truth. And the truth is not always easy to see but living in the darkness, not being able to get at the truth is much more difficult.

Watch what you pray for, someone once said. And it is true. I have prayed for a clear vision and a clear vision is what I have gotten. I know what I need to do.

Fog Lifting God,
you have answered
my prayer.
But your answer
is painful,
yet I know
its truth.
Help me,
O Lord,
to follow,
to act,
to be faithful,
to be obedient,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Dear God,

Today we announced the name of the new pastor who is coming to replace me in July. I clapped after the announcement. A new day is coming.

There are moments when I look back. This has been a pastorate full of experiences. Good, bad, crazy, inspiring, sad, fruitful are some of the adjectives I would use to describe my time here. I have learned from what I have done and what I have failed to do. Sometimes I think of people who have left; I wonder what I could have done differently.

There have been some particularly painful moments. Yet, what I have discovered in my life is that painful moments drive me to my knees. In those moments I feel I am in the company of one. I feel lonely, sad and sometimes distraught. The lonelier I am, the sadder I become, the more distraught I am, the more I find I need you. And the more I realize I need you and give myself over to you in pleading prayer, the greater is my opportunity for growth.

I have grown more in the last 15 years of my life than in the first many years. I have discovered my value is tied up in my relationship with you. When I am arrogant believing myself to be god or at least acting that way sometimes, my value decreases. I discover my own unworthiness. When I allow pride to run my life, I lose ground in my own development. My greatest value is when I turn my life over to you, when I ask for your help, when I step aside and let you lead the dance, when I fall at your feet in shame, when I pray "lead me not into temptation".

The beauty of my life has been when you have turned my lemons into lemonade, when you have taken what I have broken and you mend it, when I have surrendered and you have taken my pitiful excuses and transformed them into a new way of being, when you have one more time reshaped, renewed, and restored my life knowing how high maintenance I really am.

Yes, I'm looking back wondering about the effectiveness of my ministry. Have I been faithful? Have I loved enough? Have I given what I could, should? Have I lead under your guidance? Have I fulfilled your purpose?

I'm reflecting and remembering.

Wondrous God,
Great and Loving Potter,
Living Spirit,
Redeeming God,
today I sit
at your feet
reflecting,
wondering,
pondering,
opening myself
to you.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Dear God,

I've been looking for a line, a word, a beginning, a way to reconnect with someone and your word came just moments ago. Truth, I am sure, is the way to start.

To hold a relationship so close to my heart and then lose it is very painful. It devastates my soul because there is a permanent etching of the person on my heart. When it is lost, a wound exists where the tracings of the etching remain.

I have never been able to let go, to surrender very easily. It takes me a long, long time to release someone. If I have been injured by another, I feel the tentacles of resentment especially if the person was someone I loved very much. When I feel the pain of such loss, I replay the tortured moments in my mind, over and over again. Like a sad instant replay. And I hurt like the first time.

I explore my soul trying to figure out what I did wrong. Surely I must have done something, I tell myself as a way to understand. Often I will find something but sometimes there is nothing. These moments are especially painful. Sometimes I want to retaliate.

But you have brought someone to mind and now is the time to come together if only for one last time. You have made it clear to me that this is your desire. And I know if I do not follow through, my soul will remain restless.

Work on me,
Lord,
work on me.
Whisper to me
your desires
for my life.
Teach me
your way.
Make your desire
my own.

Love, Andrea

Friday, March 13, 2009

Dearest God,

You brought a book to me: A Room Called Remember. It's been sitting on my desk for a couple of weeks. I am remembering.

I was asked to provide a guest list for my retirement party. As I have looked through old church picture directories, so many stories have come to mind. People whose lives intersected with mine for a time. Precious people who reached out to my single parent family, individuals who entrusted their struggles to me, teenagers and women on retreat, persons who challenged my faith and gave me opportunity to challenge theirs. People stacked up in my soul who have loved me and let me love them back. You have blessed me immeasurably in my years of ministry.

You have allowed a divine weaving to take place, a tapestry of lives interwoven together. On one side there are the knots and pulls, the snags and weak strings, the tears and tattered places. But on the other side there is such beauty, so much beauty. Bright, warm colors, patterns so gloriously planned. Breathtaking because through it all there is a single golden thread that holds it all together. You, Lord, you. You did it all. You left nothing out. Even the horrible times, the losses, the God-awfuls, the suffering pain, they are all there, but so are the transformations, the threads and colors I had missed during those times. You wove them into my being and for the first real time I am seeing them. I am overwhelmed.

Faces, voices, lives, faith, trust, courage, I see them all. What extraordinary beauty! What gifts you have given me, so unearned, so unplanned, so unexpected.

I gaze upon
your work,
O God,
the loveliness
of it all
is spectacular.
I am filled
with joy
and gratitude.
How lavish
are your gifts,
what remarkable creations
come from
your hand.
That you have
entered my life,
that you have been
my potter,
that you have been
my weaver,
that you have been
my basin
of living water,
that you have been
my wellspring
of joy,
grace,
peace,
hope,
comfort,
compassion,
and mercy
is too much
for me.
I can
only fall
at your feet
and cry out,
"Holy, holy, holy,
Lord God Almighty,
praise to you,
Lord Most High.
My heart beats
with thankfulness.
I shall always
love you more
than the rest
because your blood
runs through
my veins.
Your love
pumps my heart.
Your joy
is mine.
Let my heart
and soul
and being
forever praise you.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Dearest God,

Twice you brought the name of a person to me. Twice you showed me what to do. Twice you made it clear than an unresolved friendship needed attention. You did not say how, when, or what, rather that you expected something of me.

I have delayed. I have not said no but I have made excuses. I have waited. You wanted more so yesterday you placed the person right in my path. I could not become invisible. I could not ignore. I could not pretend. The moment I saw her I knew what you were doing. So I followed your lead.

During Lent it seems my soul is more on edge. I see more clearly because I have prayed to be more open to you. I want the journey of Lent to be completely what you want it to be. I want my life to be more in line with your will. I pray for that. Therefore, I hear and see more.

I want to rid my soul of unwanted feelings, resentments, bitterness. I want to let the cold spots warm. And why? Because that is what you want. If I really want a living faith, then I have to search for clues, pay attention to nudges, listen more intently, and act upon your challenges.

I told the woman I would call her today. I will.

Guide me,
Great and Holy God,
guide me
to your will.
Lead me
to your end.
Shape my words,
guard my soul,
open my heart,
stir me
to follow you.
No life
is worth much
without you.
Make me yours.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Dear God,

A new day is dawning in so many ways. I feel the effects of that dawning in my soul.

I am shifting in my heart, in my soul, in my work, in my relationships, in my self understanding. A new day is dawning in all of these.

Last night I felt the work shift. I felt a sudden loss. I walked differently down the hall. My soul was telling me it was time.

Retirement parties are now being planned. A new pastor will soon take charge. I will leave behind people who've found their way into my heart. I will say goodbye.

There is so much comfort in the dark before the dawn. It's like time sitting still. What is coming has not yet come. I know the dark; I've made friends with the darkness. That's why I like waking up in the darkness. I have time to be with the darkness before the new day comes taking over with activities, responsibilites, people, lists of things to do... The darkness is quiet. There is a solitude, a silence. A quiet place to be alone with you.

A new day
is dawning
in so many ways.
And with it
brings a call
to trust,
to really trust,
to listen,
to really
be obedient,
to follow,
to act,
to do
according to
your will.
Let the
new day dawn,
dearest God,
let it dawn
in every part
of my life.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Dearest God,

I remember offering a retreat on a bitter heart. I remember some of the symptoms of a bitter heart. I remember the sweet smell of grace when women, including me, released, let go, surrendered the bitterness our hearts had held for many years.

That's why it's hard to accept that bitterness found its way back home. The incident was a shock to me. If someone had predicted the event, I would have laughed. I would have said, "No Way!" And yet, the situation occurred. I had to deal with many of its dimensions. And that's when I allowed bitterness to set up shop in my heart once again.

There's something so unnatural about bitterness. It gets in your bloodstream. Like a virus, it can take over your thoughts at times. It can bring anger, resentment, and a sense of hopelessness. It can eat away the good things about you. And it can make plans for a take over. It can make you evil, demanding, ugly. And it can bring tears. Tears about the situation, the brokenness of the relationship, the way you feel used, and the acceptance of what bitterness has done to your life. When tears come, there is so much to cry about, you feel you will never stop crying. That's been me. Through and through.

That's why I was surprised last week when you brought the name of the person to me. You said her name, not once but twice. "What?" I asked. Like maybe I hadn't heard it right. Your gentle persuasive power spoke to my bitter heart. It's time. It's Lent; it's time.

I have felt the gentle massaging of my heart. Like life coming back to parts that went silent several months ago. It's strange, very strange. Yet, it's so like you to do it this way. What was dead is now alive again, at least that part of it.

I have
to act now.
I shared
with a friend,
two friends
about the incident,
committing myself,
making myself accountable
to do something:
a conversation,
a call,
a card,
something.
You are ready
to take
a swipe
at my bitterness,
that layer
of resentment
that has formed
around my heart.
And I am thankful.
Help me, I pray.

Love, Andrea

Monday, March 9, 2009

Dear God

Today I celebrated a birthday with my daughter who turned 40. I remember holding her for the first time. In the quiet space with no one else around I remember telling her how much I loved her. I prayed for her life. There were only three of us present in the delivery room after she pushed her way into the world on her birth day, Janice, myself and you, Lord. What an awesome moment!

For 13 years we were apart from one another. But through a miraculous act, softening of hearts, and countless thousand prayers you brought mother and daughter back together again. I remember it like I remember five seconds ago. Walking into another daughter's home for Thanksgiving and hearing my oldest daughter laughing for the first time in more years than I could count. She never laughed. Maybe I didn't either for years. Maybe I didn't show her how. But on that November day my daughter laughed and I knew someone had been made new. Tears formed in my eyes. I breathed in deeply. Maybe there were two new people.

On her 40th I wrote her a poem in an e-mail. It was about all the things I wished for her: faith, peace, joy, hope and strength. The words came effortlessly because you were guiding them, reminding me of my gift and perhaps hers too.

I am a mother with three daughters, three J's. There is nothing separating us any more, only a cord holding us together, an eternal cord, a beautiful cord, a soft cord that doesn't squeeze or cut off circulation, but gently holds us together.

My little girl
turned 40 today.
And I was able
to celebrate
with her.
And I knew
the gift
you gave me
16 months ago.
Have 16 months
already passed by?
And every day
this mother's heart
has celebrated joyously.
My daughter
turned 40 today
and I felt
the gentle tug
of your
divine cord.
Sweet!

Loving you, Andrea

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Dear God,

I am feeling the effects of change. As I listened to you, I saw my prayer change. A name rose up twice, the name of a person I need to share with in a conversation. I have resisted such a conversation. But you brought the name to me. I know what is needed.

The church is changing. I see the effects of its change, its desire to move forward, to live out of a faith that I have watched emerge over the last few years. I am seeing its enthusiasm for the future.

My own congregation is changing. Especially have I taken great delight in the growing faith of our men. I see the meaningfulness of faith being lived out in service and mission. Our women have been on a journey for some time and I have seen their transformation. But the men, what a change has been wrought as they have given more and more of themselves to the opportunities for growth.

As my time as pastor of my congregation swiftly passes, I find myself changing too. I realize all the issues, the things, the work, the ministry, the people, the concerns I have carried for a long time are changing too. My spirit is letting go in appropriate ways. More and more I am moving back, letting others take the yoke. Not that I am not doing my job, but rather that I am stepping aside so others will take the responsibility and live into it. It is right and good.

I am listening to my heart letting go. I am listening to my spirit voice calling me forward to a new life. I am listening to the cry of my soul in the bittersweet transformation of pretty much all that is around me. I am listening, Lord, I am listening to you.

I am listening,
Lord,
I am listening
to you.
Your voice
stands out
among all
the rest.
It is Lent,
the time
to listen,
to follow,
to be obedient,
to bow down,
to listen intently
to your call.
O God,
my Maker,
make me flexible,
bend and
shape me,
Great Potter,
for the
great day
of your glory.
May Easter
find me
reshaped
for your glory.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Dear God,

There were 600 at the confirmation rally today, almost all youth. They played some team building games, took their picture with the bishop and sang and danced with a Christian band. Then they lined up in the aisles to take Holy Communion. What a scene!

I hadn't looked forward to it. I knew it would be a long day and a loud day. But I had hoped it would be a good day for the kids. I was blown away by what I saw. Perhaps it was my inability to believe that God could speak to my own heart during a youth rally. But speak, you did.

I think I could even see a stirring in their faith, a gentle movement toward a deeper understanding of a life with you. They listened intently as a model of John Wesley talked about faith and its meaning to life. And to the bishop when he spoke about confirmation and what that means.

However, the greatest surprise was when I mentioned about saving the pop can tabs for Riley Hospital that took my breath away. I just mentioned it and all of us placed ourselves beside the recycle bins telling the people we would like their tabs. A couple youth were up to their shoulders digging in the bins to pull the tabs. The boys went through the crowd asking for tabs. I don't know how many we saved but we filled a plastic bag. My confirmands still sang and danced with the band while we collected them but they were determined to get as many as possible.

I thought to myself that these were the ones who would be church leaders in the future. They would make big decisions about how we do church in the future. They would determine what mission and service would look like. They would negotiate how Christian love is lived out.

Holy Spirit God,
today I watched
with great interest
the movement
of your love.
I saw
the ways
your love
was present
and I was excited
to see
your power
at work.
I was honored
to be present,
to participate,
to sing
and dance myself.
Thank you,
dear God,
thank you.

Love, Andrea

Friday, March 6, 2009

Dearest God,

I love a quiet day. It seems as though all is right in the world. It's an illusion, I know. However, quiet moments allow me to think, reflect, be silent, allowing my soul some much needed rest.

The quiet solitude opens doors to visions I would otherwise be too busy to see. Like standing at the window, looking out over the backyard and seeing green pushing through the soil. It's time again for spring to come with all its radiant beauty. Before I know it, my garden will be full of color. Another season will have gone, giving way to the next. That's what I love about Indiana - four beautiful seasons.

As I observe the changes taking place in my garden, there are changes taking place inside me. I think they are good for the most part, but even good changes can be painful, stinging their way into existence. And what I know for certain is that just as the ground gives way to new life, so must I if I am to continue. Otherwise, what good is a stagnant, dull, no-growth life? If my life does not lift you up, does not give some evidence of hope, faith, and trust, does not learn from my mistakes, does not take leaps of faith, does not breathe in new air, then what can be said about me and my life in you?

I must take the risk of new growth. Yes, the tender shoots will be vulnerable to the storms that may come. There may be dry times when I will wonder if I have enough energy to keep going and growing. The winds of change will come, urging me to rise up, to stand tall, to be courageous and not everyone will like my change. Sometimes I will feel the heat bearing down upon me. I will want to wilt and drop but what is faith if not to hold me up while I am in the midst of the heat? And when I feel I am drowning in my own tears, I will stand anyway because I will hear your voice calling me to trust you once again.

Even now I look out and see the tiny green among the dark brown of winter. Hope is alive for my garden and for me.

Wondrous God,
who else
can I trust
more than you?
I cannot mistake
the green
for something else.
It is
new life.
It insists
upon taking
its turn,
realizing the
green is temporary.
Even the green
will give way
at its
appointed time
when you
give the word.

Trusting you, Andrea

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Dear God,

I slept all day. An early morning routine medical procedure left me sooooooo sleepy. I don't do well with anesthesia, so I slept all day.

I'm now waiting for a path report. I don't expect any problems. But nonetheless, it's a bit unnerving.

I have put myself in the hands of many people throughout the years. My parents and siblings, friends, teachers, pastors, counsellors, doctors, dentists and other medical personnel. Every time I am put under with an anesthetic, I am trusting the doctors to wake me up when the procedure is over. Generally, I trust them, although a scheduling nurse friend once told me all doctors are not equal. Be choosy, very choosy! She told me.

Every day I have to trust a lot of people. I can't make it through this world without trusting people. Every day I trust my staff to do their work. I trust my family to be safe. I trust other drivers to be responsible on the road. I trust postal workers to deliver my mail. I trust the banks with my money. I trust in you to give me air to breathe and hope to make it through each day and enough joy to keep me believing that life is basically meant to be good. I trust the message I provide each Sunday to be real, authentic and life giving. I have to trust myself, my instincts, those guiding moments when I know there is a Greater Source leading my thoughts. All day long I have to trust.

My hope
is in you,
Lord,
my hope
is in you.
My hope
in you
never disappoints me.
My hope
is really
nothing more
than a smattering
of trust,
a belief
in your reliability,
your love
and faithfulness.
Forgive me
when I fail
to trust
in you wholly.
Stretch my ability
to trust you
more and more.
And help me,
Good God,
I pray
with trusting others
and myself.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Dear God,

It seems there are mini crises all around me. A woman from a former church feels I could help her husband in a difficult time. A mother whose child is in trouble wants me to meet with her. A stranger who knows someone I know wants me to officiate at her child's wedding. Someone else is facing a dreadful disease. A husband wants me to talk to his wife. Some days I want to close my door and turn over my shingle. How can I possibly muster up the courage to do what I need to do?

Some days I'm not sure there's enough air to breathe. Or energy enough to open my mouth to speak. Some days...

I am learning how to say no. Not to be ugly or mean, but to say I simply can't do what they say they need of me. I cannot give all of myself away. I won't have enough left to take care of myself. Oh yes, I know there is a fine line between giving myself to others and caring for myself. How much do I give away? How much is enough? When is it appropriate to say I'm sorry I just can't do it? Sometimes people are desperate and their desperation wants to push me beyond my limits, my ability to help others. In those moments I often cave and then I am so weary.

O God, only you know what is needed of me. And I have to fall at your feet to find my answers. I am not God. I am not a miracle worker. I cannot change people. I cannot make people be something they do not want to be. I can't make someone love someone else.

At your feet,
Lord,
at your feet,
I fall.
I cannot move
without you.
I cannot speak
without you.
I cannot act
without you.
Lead me,
Good Lord,
lead me,
I plead.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Dearest God,

Does someone have to own their mistakes before someone else forgives them? What if the person doesn't think they have done anything wrong? What then?

A name came to me today in a strange sort of way. Can I forgive? Do I want to? I have been angry, hurt really for a long time. I really don't think the other person cares or if they do, they have a very strange way of showing it.

I imagined in my own mind retiring and putting the past behind me. My last year has not turned out the way I had envisioned it. Nothing is the same. I have lost a great deal. I thought I would gain in this last year. I don't know why. I guess I fantasized how I thought it might be. Whose vision was it? Mine, God's, whose?

For months I've been burdened down. Some days it has been extremely difficult to get up and get going. And some of those days I trusted you alone to make it through the day. And when I trusted you, I was able to move on and move forward.

As the song goes, "My heart is restless until it rests in thee." I think it is true. I still carry an ache in my heart and a lack of understanding in my head. Together they make for a sad state of affairs. How can my heart be open if I keep it closed? How can I trust if I close off all the entrances to my soul?

I've been hurt a great deal this year. And I have carried the burdens, the heavy burdens. Some days I just wanted my retirement to be finished and done. That way I didn't have to look back. I could honestly say I did what I could with the light you have given me. Yet, there is still that nagging in my soul. Have I really? How willing am I to be faithful to my call as a minister, as a friend? What do I hope to accomplish? And whose plan am I following? Mine or yours?

Is my life a witness or not? Is my faith real, authentic? Is it large enough to carry me in the work of forgiveness? Or do I want to turn away and carry the burden for the rest of time?

I hear
your voice
and
I have
to admit
I don't like
hearing what
it has
to say
to me.
Yet,
I know
I do not know
the future.
Only you know
the future.
O Lord,
God of All,
make my
simple heart
a heart
of love
once again.
Help me
trust you
in all things.
I know
the ache
of unforgiveness;
teach me
your way,
dear God,
teach me
your way.

Love, Andrea

Monday, March 2, 2009

Dearest God,

Truth. Truth is almost always better than the alternative.

Learning one's own truth can be excruciatingly painful, but truth is better than living with lies, exaggeration, or a gentle massaging of truth. Truth, Jesus said, can set you free.

I know a person set free. A courageous person. A person who has willingly walked into the center of her own God-awful truth. What she has seen would drop anyone to their knees, pleading for help, comfort and mercy. Yet, she has not only walked into its center, like the eye of a storm, she has tackled each truth as she learned it.

Truth has a voice. Often muffled, threatened and challenged, truth still has the right to be spoken and heard. Truth is the road to freedom, peace of body, mind and spirit. My friend has not only found her truth; she is now speaking it no matter the cost. It's the one thing besides faith that keeps her going.

This may sound so simple. But when truth did not have a voice for decades, where illusion and fantasy and evil ruled every day, life was sucked out. All was lost, even truth itself. And when it did rise up, it was met with cruel violence of the worst kind.

My friend is a gentle soul, kind, loving and caring. She is the only truth bearer in her family. And while she went decades without a voice, now truth is the only voice she carries. And she will carry it to the grave.

I listened to her yesterday say things she could never say before. She is confident, trusting God to be her courage to speak the words of truth. Although sick and weak, she is living in faith because truth has become her mainstay. This truth is creating an environment where she can be herself fully. The past filled with lies, violence and abuse has died; it is finished forever. She now carries the family truth and although it is risky and costly, she is carrying the banner of truth hoping and praying that others will follow.

What an honor it is to witness this kind of truth emerging. Hearing the strength of this truth voice is something to behold. My friend has entered a new realm of living. And I know she has a foot on this earth and the other in heaven where she gains more courage every day to live the truth that can set others free. I pray for her.

Loving God,
truth is
the essence
of life.
Without it,
life is
an illusion,
an imaginary happening,
where nothing
is real.
Nothing to
sink your teeth into.
Nothing to
stand on.
Nothing to
hope in.
Truth is
the foundation
of life.
It is
what causes us
to skip
and sing.
It births hope
and possibility.
It frees,
releases,
opens,
heals.
My God,
thank you
for truth.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Dearest God,

Today warm tears spilled from my eyes as we sang in church. The past, present and future opened up for me and I was overcome with tears.

I have learned through the years that tears are a precious resource. When life is building up inside me, when I feel I am about to blow, tears release my emotions. They just spill out. And I have to let them have their say.

Just yesterday I listened to our Futuring Task Force give their reports. I was so proud of them. Each group had done a thorough job. They had prayed and followed your lead. They had used their imagination and their skills to come up with differing options for our church. Going in I had one idea and when they finished, I realized they had opened me to other options. One year. They have worked one year on this and each had given evidence of their love for this church. I stood and acknowledged my pride in them. Tears came then too. A different kind of tear.

My tears have a cleansing, healing quality to them. They are a gift really whether I am sad, happy, perplexed, joyous or angry. They are an indicator of what is inside. What I also know is that I can always entrust my tears to you.

Faith causes
me to cry
sometimes.
Why?
Because
my ability
to see faith
in circumstances
is a gift.
And a gift
of this magnitude
deserves my attention,
my gratitude.
Thank you,
dear God,
for tears
that express
my deepest emotions.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Dearest God,

Living into a new possibility brings not only hope but a certain amount of enthusiasm. Learning to let go of something in order for the new possibility to surface is a challenge for me. I hold on for a long time, a very long time. I do not let go easily, no matter what area of my life is affected.

Only after I let go can I look back and see how tenaciously I was holding on. I can rattle off the times in my life when I held on to something: people, a home, an idea, a loss, etc. Saying goodbye to something or someone is very difficult for me.

At the same time there have been situations and people that I have clung to even when there was no hope left, when there was not a single sign that change was forthcoming. I did that with my daughter, gone from our relationship for 13 years. I held on to the idea of her return with a death grip. I refused to let go. I could not release my love for her no matter the torment and anguish. And my holding on in this situation paid off; she did one day return.

And so I am left with trust. I need to trust you to guide me when I need to hold on and when I am to let go. Emotionally I am not always the best judge. The more important, the greater the value of the person, place or thing the more persistent I am in holding on, actually for dear life. The more I am able to see through your lens, the better I am able to follow your lead.

The more I realize your presence is always with me, the more I am able to trust, to follow, to be obedient. The more I trust, the greater my faith.

O God,
the more
I trust,
the more
I am enabled
to follow you,
to learn
from you,
to listen
to you.
You are
my Creator
and the creator
of all
that is.
My well being
is always
a concern
for you
just as
every living thing is.
When I
am able
to acknowledge you,
I discover
the great
Source of Life.
Teach me
to trust
more readily,
more ably,
more obediently.

You always have my love, Andrea