Gym Class and a Pulpit

 In fourth grade I owned a pair of sneakers. These sneakers were a cross between Punky Brewster and Converse All Stars. They were also minted by Beverly Hills 90210. I was in a new school, in a new city, and feeling more and more insecure in myself with every passing gym day- insecurity mounting as I was daily being picked last for kickball. 

We all know this story. We’ve all been the last one chosen, left to stand, pitifully, while the team leader concedes to have us on his team. If we have not experienced this first-hand, we have seen it in a dozen movies. Because it is true to life: in fourth grade gym class, and so much more. 

I used to cry- used to being operative terms as I still cry- a lot. As a 9-year-old, I learned that I could cry at the start of gym class, insist to the teacher that my parents will be mad at me if I ruin my new shoes, and be rewarded for this lie with a two-tone Smarties lollipop and the ability to sit off to the side and watch someone else be the last to be chosen. 

I did this week after week. I am no fool. 

Tears are something like a counterpart of mine, always there, waiting to make their appearance. In some ways, they can be very therapeutic and cleansing, but I have asked the Lord more than once to please take them away, as they can also impose themselves upon me, demanding to be known. Yesterday was a day of tears. I cried because I felt discouraged. There are so many opportunities I would like to embrace, so many possibilities I see, and I dream up, and I want them all. It is a fool’s request, maybe, but, as I noted, I am no fool. 

Yesterday I spoke with a friend. She and I both do ministry, only she has been in this game longer and is truly America’s Sweetheart. I did a lot of research, invested time and came up with a *ahem* awesome proposal for our church. The proposal was sent over a week ago and I knew that our head pastor, my friend, and others in leadership, were all sitting down to discuss where this might lead. Optimism abounded when I sent the email. Optimism waned when I got some feedback. It is’t that our church does not like my proposal, or that it won’t happen in time, but for the here and now, they decided to try something a little off brand. A mock proposal…just to see how it lands. 

I began to cry. The truth is that this is my fourth attempt to propose something for our church- really great ideas- and every one has received a “no”, “not now”, “we don’t do it like that”. Every. Single. One. The tears began and my voice wavered over the phone. I like my friend, but it has been feeling personal, all this rejection. So, I chose to take myself out. 

There is no guarantee that this most recent proposal will have any flight in it, and I was honest yesterday when I told my friend that I wasn’t sure I had the heart for this spin-off she was suggesting. My heart, perhaps selfishly, was in a certain direction, and this alternative was leaving me hanging. My heart is to be a good steward, to be a willing participant in ministry and service, but I could not pretend that my heart wasn’t feeling a little crushed, as well. 

Pastor Kent spoke about being the last one chosen at his school, too. It was either he or skinny Susie. It was uncanny, his story, as I was just telling Big Strong Man about my experience with kickball earlier this week, literally having no idea that a similar experience would be spoken from the pulpit. The randomness of it all drew me to write this out, this time, however, it does not escape me that I am not sitting because of lies and insecurities, I am sitting out as I wait on the Lord for guidance.

Although I have wavered between heading up this alternative plan and forgoing anything about it at all, I truly haven’t felt God’s prompting one way or another. What I do know is that I value friendship over making a point and doing ministry well over doing it my way. 

I wish I could encourage fourth grade me. I would tell her that -contrary to popular belief- no one wins life because they were chosen first in kickball. I would remind her that being picked last, although stinky, is a part of life. And I would encourage her to make the most of this, to look for the other kiddos who are insecure (like skinny Susie and little Kent), and to play her best. I would also tell her that her shoes are awesome and that one day she will have the advantage, because trials help shape us into motivated people. 

I’m not sure how this isn’t already blazingly obvious, but teachers everywhere should realize that the favor is not always equally stacked, and that the impressions felt will last longer than the fleeting win of the game. 

It is important to me to do life right. That is, to do it well. 

This looks different for us all, but I know I want to be true to myself and truer still to God. And so, I sit, waiting, not for gym class to be over, but for the Lord’s direction. And I can do this with as many Smarties lollipops as I chose!

Communion

 Ann Voskamp talks about Communion using another word altogether, and when she speaks of it, it is always with such dreamy appreciation and gratitude. This word? Eucharist. 

We have the Eucharist every week at our home church. Placed on tables alongside the church walls, large bowls filled with wafers and juice represent the body and the blood, both given from a Savior who loved us enough then to release His flesh and pour out His blood so as to die. A Perfect Sacrifice- the only one of its kind. 

I place the wafer on my tongue and, as it dissolves, I think over the pain and the longsuffering Jesus endured- for me. I thank Him, repeatedly, and then I drink the juice, whispering even more words of gratitude. Sometimes this makes me emotional, the remembrance. 

These past few weeks have been a mix for me. I couldn't receive the Eucharist one week because I needed to get right with someone I offended. The following week, having made my peace, I stood, holding the wafer -holding His body- and I thanked Him over and over, as I do, but this time was different. It was some form of acknowledgment which confirmed in my head and heart that He gave ALL OF HIMSELF. 

This did something to me. Drinking the juice -His blood- I felt this overwhelming grace flood over me- He paid it all for me. All of Him, for all of me. 

Two weeks later, I surprised myself when, yet another revelation came to me during the Eucharist. Just as we continue to come back to the wafer and the juice, Jesus keeps coming back to us. He chooses us over and over, confirmed by the never-ending bowls filled with grace and goodness- the best of the best. 

I have been in churches where the body is represented with a piece of bread and I have shared a communal chalice with strangers in a chapel, red wine within. I have prayed over dinner tables and McDonald's Happy Meals enough times to remember that, whether a wafer or a baked potato, Jesus loved us then, and He continues to love us now. 

And then there is thanksgiving. In Ann Voskamp's latest book, Waymaker, she also stumbles across this holy reunion of the Eucharist and thanksgiving. Over and over, she speaks about this Chara joy- this cause of joy, receiving of joy, and the joy gifted to us by another- the joy of Jesus. 

***

The Eucharist is the source and 

summit of the Christian life. 

The term “Eucharist” originates from 

the Greek word Eucharistic,

 meaning thanksgiving.

***

The Eucharist brings us back to Him. It reminds us of the depths of His love. And yet, every day, and with every meal, He comes to us, and we remember. 

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Bookends

This summer has felt long. I'm most certainly not complaining, but with just about two weeks still remaining until school begins, it has felt incredibly refreshing and unlike any other summer I can remember. 
As with every summer, I am always scouting for activities my sons can participate in, which is how we have ended up in multiple Vacation Bible Schools, library programs, and camps over the years. In almost every town we have lived in, one such activity is the free movie our local theaters offer each week, typically movies already a few years old, but still fun to watch again- and on the big screen. 

Our summer began with a Despicable Me marathon, and we were there every time they played a movie. The children of McFive have always liked these films SO MUCH and I am smitten with Steve Carell, so everyone is happy. Funny thing, although we've seen the movies multiple times, I still wasn't prepared for the emotions which came over me during the first movie. (I'd issue a Spoiler Alert but who am I kidding? This movie is 12 years old- everyone, everywhere has seen this!)

In the last few minutes of the film, our despicable protagonist, Gru, is standing, arms wide open, waiting for Margo to jump into his arms and be rescued, just as her sisters, Edith and Agnes are about to do. Margo hesitates, unsure that she can trust the man who broke her little girl heart, the man who became a father-figure in one moment and turned his back on all three girls in another. 

Standing in one plane, Gru on another, the girls are told to jump.

"You gave us back," Margo cries, pulling Anges close. 

"I know, I know. And it is the worst mistake I ever made. Look, you have to jump now." Gru replies in his mixed-European accent.

"It will be okay," says Margo to her sisters, helping them closer before yelling for them to, "jump now!"

To everyone's delight, Gru has caught them both, leaving only Margo left on the other plane. 

Turning toward Margo, arms lifted high, Gru states matter-of-factly, "Margo, I will catch you and I will never let you go again," he adds, crossing his arms for a moment to exaggerate his point. 

Margo waits, unsure. She grips the plane tightly, she considers his change of heart, and with that, she leaps. 

And to this sentiment, Gru's confession of never again letting her go, I began to bawl.   

I couldn't explain why the tears came that day. I wasn't particularly emotional, nothing bad had happened, but I found myself stunned and a little embarrassed because the tears were real, and they were not stopping. This affected me and it was something to do with my core.

***

I began some work this summer of learning about trauma and core values. One of the most remarkable portions I heard was that, at every traumatic experience, regardless of the size, we re-evaluate four parts of our core self, specifically: What does this trauma say about me? What does this trauma say about the other person involved? What does this trauma say about the world at large? What does this trauma say about God? And from these four questions, we reconstruct our core beliefs. 

For the vast majority of my life, I have doubted I was lovable, and I have doubted I was beautiful. As a young girl, this affected me greatly because I was always gauging my worth on feelings of simultaneously needing to be more (it was not enough to just be myself), and already being too much ("back off, as you are too much to handle"). This wasn't necessarily spoken, but it became a core belief I held: I needed to impress to simply be wanted and I needed to be small because no one wanted to deal with the whole of me. This belief has followed me into adulthood. 

This is one of the main reasons why I am married to a wonderful man, and yet I find marriage difficult. 

This is why I have a difficult time opening up. 

This is why I landed in Behavorial Health inpatient treatment.

***

Summer vacation is near over and I feel this unresolved tension in the air. An event happened, spiraling these core beliefs of mine and words were said. Words of regret. Although I felt the Lord prompting me to make amends- and I did- the other party has not responded, and it makes my heart ache. 

I sometimes need to remind myself to keep breathing. 

I saw this experience as bookends- I think of the link between my beginning of summer weeping and my end-of-summer longing as streaming from the same source. And this is not a blame game, it is, however, some sort of closure. I am not shutting doors on people; I am shutting doors on false core beliefs. Somehow, I have to find worth in myself that tells me I am lovable- just for being me.  

And guess what? You are lovable just for being you, too. 

My Husband Has a Garden (Roasted Tomato Recipie)

 Big Strong Man has a garden. He is incredibly proud of it- as he should be. It has cost him time and sweat. His reward has been tomatoes larger than his fist and enough massive zucchini to make chocolate chip zucchini bread for our family multiple times, as well as 7 of our neighbors!

It also harvests basil, a gift from one of Zeplin's teachers. This incredible smelling herb is one of my favorites and is best served over roasted tomatoes with mozzarella- the real stuff is preferred, but truly any cheese can do. 

My friend Dawn made these once upon a time and I have been fanatical about them ever since!

So simple but so ridiculously tasty- I can eat an entire tray like candy!

                                                            **********    

                     Roasted Tomatoes with Mozzarella and Basil (Last Meal Request)                                     

 Ingredients: 

 *Tomatoes, any will do, but I like mine big, so they are 

     like hearty sides or giant finger foods; sliced 

 * Cheese- fresh mozzarella is the best but we have literally 

     done this with just about whatever cheese we 

     have on hand and it is still delicious!

* Fresh Basil, chopped

*Olive Oil

Directions:

*Clean tomatoes and basil leaves. Slice tomatoes and place on cookie sheet. Add gallops of cheese to each slice, top with basil. Drizzle some olive oil over it all and bake about 15 minutes at 325 degrees. (Baking times may vary.) -Keep an eye on yours to make sure they don't get burnt, although I find slightly crispy to be its own type of yummy! Enjoy!

Operation: Early Timing (Operation Christmas Child in August)

Yesterday our church had a table set up with tons and tons of red and green boxes- sure signs of Operation Christmas Child. Although we know this ministry well, it was a shock to see them show up this early- As I type this, Christmas is still 146 days away. But here's the deal- this is Early Timing Brillance!

Bing Images

During the height of the Christmas season, adding another idea -as well-meaning and precious as it may be- just seems to muddy the already stirring waters. Advent calendars, Elf on the Shelf, Cookie Exchanges; Christmas plays, choir concerts, church services. Shopping, movie watching, snow days; Tree and house decorating, Christmas dinner prep, and holiday travel... the list goes on and on (and on and on...) But we are loyal to this cause because it is important work. 

Samaritan's Purse

For anyone unfamiliar, I suggest clicking here. The long and the short of it is this: each shoebox is pack and prepped to be shipped to a child somewhere in the world. This child may have never before received any such gift- so you can imagine the impact. That delight our *admittedly spoiled* kiddos share on Christmas morning? That, only 100x over. 

The boxes are not large- literally the size of a standard shoebox, but we try to pack ours to the brim. 

If you decide to pack one- or three!- here are some ideas for what can help fill your box from seasoned O.C.C. ministry supporters- McFive!  (This list is mostly taken from a previous post but has been altered slightly.)

These include:
*flashlights (These crank versions are AMAZING!!!)
*baseball caps**
*sunglasses**
*toothbrushes**
*bar soap**
*band aids**
*wash cloths**
*flip flops**
*drawstring bags**
*pencils**
*paper**
*crayons**
*sewing kit**
*combs**

*Fun toys**

*Kid's Picture Bible

*Picture of your kiddos with packed boxes

*Chapstick**

*Balls- these are wildly popular (a deflated ball with a hand pump is prime!)**

**These items can be purchased at the Dollar Tree.

There is a complete list on the official sight, as well as where you can pick up your box, and how you can help fund its travel. 

Really, churches everywhere: THIS IS VALUABLE TIMING!! 

Beat the rush and craziness of the holiday season, when everyone is already strapped for cash and time. Take a page from Pastor Kent *bless* and put out your Operation Christmas Child boxes now!

Happy Packing!!!