Coffee

I'm headed out to church camp for the week with youth from all over Southeast Alaska. No internet so I thought I better write and post tonight just so no one experiences a great vacuum of inane thought this week.

I bought five pounds of espresso roast for five days of camp. That would be normal if there were more than three of us who drank motor oil, but as it is, I think I might have an issue.

I love coffee. I come close to worshiping it. Don't tell my husband, but every morning I drive to church with my knees so I can hold my coffee cup in both hands and let the fragrance of heaven fill my nostrils.

At least I sing psalm 141 (Let my prayer rise up like incense), while I enjoy this moment of idolatry. My prayer life has sucked recently. I wouldn't normally use that word, but it has felt like a draining demand slapping me with a sense of failure instead of the focus and joy I normally experience.

So, my coffee is my prayer especially in the midst of so much travel. It's the moment that stills me and gives me joy and focus. I sing my psalm and get my jolt to make it through the day. Everything has its season. I don't want to stay in this place of distractions and drainage, but I trust God to pull me back as long as I keep going through the motions and rituals that folks have been doing for thousands of years.

I was tempted to write about the worm infested fish we had for dinner tonight, but I decided to go to my warm, happy place instead. But the worms were a gift. We laughed for a long time making up worm songs at dinner. It was good to laugh hard. Nothing like parasites to pull you out of the season of family crabbiness.

It does make me nervous about what will pull me out of my season of distraction. I'm hoping it's coffee.

Not Enough

My eyes are starting to droop. We are at the tail end of an eight day whirlwind trip and it is catching up with me, but I’m German and my discipline is to write on Tuesday nights. 

Great crew of kids. I only yelled a couple of times and tried not to call them dipshits. I forget that’s not a term of endearment in most families. 

I was terrified on the roller coasters. I’m not sure my heart has felt like that in a long time. It’s probably healthy to experience heart stopping fear every now and then. 

I spent four days waiting in lines with 30,000 of my closest friends with many folks giving out free hugs. I walked out of the big group gatherings and instantly made a circle around myself where no one could enter. That didn’t work so well. I’m thinking electric fencing next time.

The Temptations showed up one night (at least two of them) and I danced and sang my little heart out. It was such a relief and almost made the night of heavy metal okay.

The speakers and worships were pretty solid. I always flinch a little at praise music and I do think one of the hip hop songs had a motion that resembled grabbing my crotch so that seemed a bit awkward. But, overall the gathering had some solid stuff about living out a countercultural faith where we accompany one another in suffering and grace. That’s solid theology.

There is one thought that’s bugging me from the National Youth Gathering and I should throw it out incompletely processed while it’s fresh and rolling around in my head.

The problem was throughout the entire gathering I spent my time devising tactics to be first in line, get the best restaurant with the shortest wait, and find the most amazing seats by going in the sneaky entrance. There were plenty of seats, plenty of food, and enough time even though it felt scarce at times.

That’s what’s haunting me. I swiftly got swept into the whole mindset of scarcity. Scarcity instantly makes hostility and aggression bubble up in a less than charming way (normally my hostility and aggression is a bit more entertaining).  I wasn’t the only one. 

Some elbows were thrown and folks pushed and there was mumbling about line cutting throughout the event. Everyone was fine most of the time, but this irritability that we might not get our fair share kept showing up. 

We’ll never know peace or solidarity or grace until we wrestle with the demon of false scarcity. It’s a thief that takes my focus from the abundance of resources and opportunities to focus on devising tactics to get ahead or take shortcuts.

I took a great shortcut on Mackinac Island that only added four miles to my trip. I think my focus is fading and the flights are over. Good night.

Scary doll Nyah found. Stuff of nightmares
but not related to this blog at all

Trips

It’s a plane day as I write this because I know I won't feel like writing after riding roller coasters all day.  

I realized this morning (Monday)

at 3:30 am, it’s been a long time since I’ve taken a crew of youth on a trip. We normally do family service trips where everyone goes and there is something absolutely wonderful about not feeling responsible for a group of youth. There’s also something wonderful about sneaking off as adults to play cards in the bar-I won’t lie.

But, here I am feeling responsible. Luckily I have Adam along as a responsible adult who is much younger than I am and an extrovert. He brought ten packs of those nasty jellybeans where some are yummy and some are gross. Helpful hint from me, don’t throw a handful in your mouth at one time.

We are traveling with a great group of youth. They are a bit nerdish but don’t tell them. The fact that Banagrams and Set are some of their favorite games is revealing enough. 

Tomorrow is Roller Coaster Day. I kind of love roller coasters. I’m also kind of emotive when I am on them and waiting in line for them and after I ride them. I’m pretty sure that I will be hanging around with the boys all day because the girls have already censured my behavior.

I’ve quickly been reminded why I love taking folks on trips:

-We get out of our comfort zone and learn to trust each other, explore new things, and  figure out what kind of people we really are

-We meet new folks and get pushed into new situations

-We learn the fine arts of compromising and using manners

-We see each other silly. Adolescence can be so exhausting as a parent because we don’t get to see our kids silly any more. They might get goofy with friends but it stops when an adult enters. On trips, we just get too tired and wired on sugar to care.

-We have time to talk about important stuff and silly stuff.

I’m trying not to do a running commentary on the junk they eat. Instead I strike bargains. 

Yes, you can consume that entire bag of Skittles if you eat something resembling a vegetable. 

Yes, you can have a can of pop when you finish your water. 

Yes, eat all those french fries as long as you eat them with catsup, since it is considered a vegetable by the USDA. That last one is sarcasm. 

I do limit their time and my time on phones and such. We all are working on being present where we are and open to the surprises God has in store. Like most experiences it will be as miserable or joyful as we make it. Showing up and being open are big parts of following Jesus. Sleeping might be helpful too.

World Domination or Brad Pitt

I had to text my brother my great bookstore find - RISK. It's not a book; it's a game. If you never played this game of world domination, then your life is just a little sadder.

My brother texted back "Ah yes Risk. Lots of not so good memories but the thought is nice." Here I thought I was re-living an awesome childhood experience, but I suppose there were lots of arguments and fits thrown in the course of dominating the world.

I texted back, "Learning to fight with you helped me hold my own after."

There really is something to it. Healthy relationships should fight well. Maybe I'm just saying this because Kirt and I had a fabulous fight on Saturday, but I do think it is true.

We disagreed about something and it wasn't putting laundry away or cleaning the house. We had very different opinions about how something should be done and we argued. No tears. No yelling. But there was lively discussion and debate.

Fighting is hard. It's easier to roll over or to dominate with emotional manipulation, but actually making an argument about why your perspective has validity is difficult. It is difficult to hear what the other person is saying and not take it personally or dismiss it.

Fighting well is as vital to a relationship as playing well. Fighting and playing are both ways we create intimacy. They are ways that we engage the mystery of the other trusting they will not abandon us. That's why the promises of marriage are so important.

We've made vows of faithfulness through all that is to come until death parts us. Are there times that if Brad Pitt showed up on a horse to ride off in the sunset I would be tempted? Yes. But, then I would remember:

a. I read the magazines and he has some serious issues
b. Unless the horse can swim, we will only make it to mile marker 44
c. I've made promises to the one who is making me crazy and we're bound to figure it out

I'm not looking for therapy, but hiding conflict is not healthy. I think we have a relatively healthy marriage and it's good to know that arguing is part of health. We still laugh and smooch well so don't fret.

I do bring this up also because as a congregation we are going to engage the conversation about marriage and same-gender relationships. We are a congregation bound together by the body and blood of Christ. There are lots of different political and social perspectives in our community and we disagree about some things.

I'm going to be lazy and just share some thoughts from a sermon a couple weeks ago:

I bought a refrigerator for the church the other day and the young woman helping me asked if I was the pastor of the church that welcomed gays and lesbians. My immediate answer was no, she was probably thinking of Aldersgate Methodist who recently had an article about welcoming. I then told her we would love to have her worship with us, but welcome isn’t probably the right word for what Lutherans do or I would argue what Jesus does. I told her that we would love to have her gather with us in what I call an uncomfortable comfort. We expect all to be shaken by God’s word and  comforted by it. She is gathered into God’s love in the same way that someone who struggles with same-sex relationships is gathered and we expect God’s grace to transform us all into people who love and are loved. She freaked when I told her worship was at 9:30 am.

We're going to have some uncomfortable discussions and conflict ahead. That's okay. I'm not freaking out. I'm hoping we can all stay at the table because we all need each other. I'm hoping that if Brad Pitt shows up on a horse outside the church promising a place with no conflict where everyone agrees with you and happy sunsets are forever, you'll have the sense to remember you'll only make it to mile marker 44.